#desperately wanting to out you no matter WHAT the status of your current deal is

[jlf23tumble]

On the assistant talk - does Oli have a google alert out for Harry or does he follow Harry UAs from a burner to keep Louis apprised (I’m imagining him giving Louis bullet points from each show/promo event)? Do Oli and Luis debrief?!? Lmao. Cause you can absolutely have no idea about the one direction hat unless your head is ass deep in H fandom. Not that I think Louis would have put on the hat in any case but he may have been a bit more gestural (the classic ehhhh shrug) if not for the Harry connection.

I saw someone say there's no way a Leo moon is going to put a hat on their head without checking their hair first, which was the truest hottest take, lmao

[degrees-of-fuck]

[vibrant-dol] CURRENT KNOWLEDGE IRRELEVANT i wanna know how your funny guys feel about living in dolville >:]

!!!!!!! OMG hi!!! OOH that is a fun oneeeee hmm

Clara the Phantom:

It's like- Fine. I guess. It's fine. She just needs to get through this week and everything will be okay. (And then she needs to get through the next week. And then the next. and so on forth.)

Because her family's been entrenched in the system of the orphanage for so many generations and because she really just. Avoids the church and all that, she can't really quite conceive of an alternative. She can just... Be glad she wasn't exposed to the 'real world' sooner.

Despite how much she detaches herself and downplays it all, she does sometimes, in a small and despised part of her mind find that she prefers to be at Eden (the canon dol character)'s cabin, or at the underground farm. But it's fine. She doesn't feel much of anything. She would never lie to you (hilarious lie)

Lettice the Heavensent:

Sheltered as shit even after turning 18 so she doesn't see the full extent of it. Only ever really sees Wolf Street, Nightingale Street, The Woods and sometimes as a rare treat sneaks off to the cafe or the hookah parlour. shh. However, she does play Emotional Support Doll/Minor Religious Guide for people a whole lot, so she hears things. And she sees the state of the statue in the temple. And she sees and experiences a lot of what happens within its walls!

So as little of the town she sees, she fears for it greatly and she knows that in her current situation at least, she is. Quite miserable, despite how much she tries to distract herself from that. She's pretty torn on the whole thing, between a sense of duty, even if mostly to people that have only abused her, or been too forcibly kept in the dark to help her - and leaving and finding some sort of life for herself (SCARY! Freedom is SCARY! Living under the thumb is miserable, but SAFE and FAMILIAR!) I need her deprogrammed SO bad.

Esmee the Astray:

For starters, the twins are French-Japanese and spent their like... Early childhood in France, so they are vitally, out of towners! (They got abandoned </3) So they know that this town is WEIRD. I think a bit of them just thinks it's a British thing though, even if they did likely live in another part of the UK before DoLtown. As for Esmee specifically... After ceasing to actually Show Up to the temple, she's found a. Weird, sick sort of comfort in this place. She likes pain! She yearns to be wanted, but "knows" that's not possible off of her own merits, so to be pursued to be raped and abused is... Good enough!!! She's the type of person that seeks out Morgan on purpose, enough said,,,,

Yeah. She knows the town is Fucked with a capital F, but she's sort of managed to twist her psyche and her perception of things so thoroughly that she now believes that if she didn't have to pay Bailey for both herself and her sibling's Wretched Existence, she'd Thrive here! She loves violence and she's managed to maintain her angel tf this long! (This ofc only matters because if she falls and becomes a demon, she will no longer be identical to her identical twin.)

She loves it! Chaos Reigns and she doesn't care about the deeper issues! Just leave her alone and let her roleplay marriage with her unwilling rapist headmistress in peace!

Eden the Pianist (My OC Not The DoL Character):

Eden however HAAAAAAAAAAAAATES it here. To the point of being sort of mildly agoraphobic. They desperately desperately desperately want to go back in time, to when everything was fine (lie. their parents sucked enough to ditch them) and they were happy (another lie) They hate seeing what this town has done to Esmee, who they try to remember as having been Happy and Innocent until this filth town Ruined her. And as much as they'd both have you believe - and try to have themself believe otherwise, they do feel the town corrupting them sometimes.

They deal with that and various other issues of theirs by throwing themself fervently into the temple and indulging in mountains upon mountains of self-deception. They're very good at it. In truth, a lot of their worse impulses would be there anyway, but they find it much much easier to just... Blame it all on the town. (Certainly not on their repression or on the really unhealthy worldviews and relationships they've developed to sustain themself off of) They're only an initiate, so they don't know a whole lot of temple lore, so they do sometimes find themself cooking up strange little crackpot theories about why the town is the way it is. They sort of hate themself for being too "weak" to be able to save up enough money to get themself and Esmee out of there tbh. Not very good at making any money at all.

DFIJLKM;hukml this was such a fun ask ty htrbgipfoipjok;mcijpk;vlnj

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Hi! So... this was one of the first major analysis posts I made on here and it blew up in a way that really surprised me. I loved reading through everyone's tags so I had made a kind of joking promise with myself that if this post got 2000 notes, I'd do a full reply to the ones that really got me thinking and expanded on this post.

Well. I wasn't expecting it to actually get there, but it did. I'd like to share and respond to some of the really cool thoughts people left in the tags. I didn't think people would like this post at all so the fact that it was received so warmly continues to make me really happy!

I'll be tagging the people who left the tags I'll be screenshotting here; I hope that isn't a bother - I just want to make sure I credit you! If you want me to take your tags down from here, just let me know and I absolutely will!

And if you left a tag and I didn't put it here, please don't think it means I didn't read it and love it! I loved each and every one. Seriously.

@originalaccountname

Yes! Status quo! I really think being unable to break out of it is a huge issue a few characters share in this series - Dazai in particular takes a good deal of comfort in it as it means he can better predict outcomes and make things go more according to his expectations. Part of setting his mask is learning all the predictabilities of his current context and then maintaining that or branching out only within reason. I think it's a key reason why his bonds with others are either shallow or stagnant and locked in the same patterns - breaking out of the status quo requires vulnerability which necessitates less control. In order to continue to change, Dazai needs a call-out like you've said. He is not Mori and he is not Fyodor but if he continues down this path he will lose those people he (does indeed!) value and become just as isolated as they are. At least, that's my two cents on the matter.

@nightmaresinviolet

"He only has to analyze one type of person while his enemies have to work against someone who thinks in dozens of different kinds" <- BRILLIANT! That's spot on! And the idea that it's rooted in him not having such a defined objective as Mori's "for the good of the organization and city" and Fyodor's "for a world free of the sin of ability users"... fantastic. I wonder if this looseness of objective and values is recognized by Dazai as part of the reason he's so able to adapt and if maybe letting go of that and sticking to something might be subconsciously perceived as vulnerability. Perhaps? Thing is, I do think Dazai has some values. He uh... doesn't seem to like mind control. He seems to get more serious and unusually openly murderous when up against manipulative opponents (which is a discussion in and of itself since those things they're doing are typically similar to what he does). He also had some opinions about the whole "undercooked meat theory" in Fifteen. So yeah. I think he has some values, but they're not strongly held nor are they directed in any way. Dazai will do morally reprehensible things while knowing and, I think, also personally believing they are morally reprehensible or at the very least, tiring lol. Don't know where I was going with this. I think this is a whole other post. Sigh.

@fedyazai

Yeah, exactly! It all ties back to the idea that he masks to suit his environment but the environment also influences him on a subconscious level. Listen. There has to be a reason he is always so drawn to people who value life. Unsure if he consciously realizes this or not but I think on some level he knows this is what he needs if he wants to do/feel better in any capacity. The company we keep goes a long way in our improvement as people.

While I want Dazai to get some serious callouts for his actions, I also desperately want Atsushi to tackle hug him like he did Kunikida in their reunion chapter. 🥲

@hella1975

Yes! Ranpo has Dazai beat when it comes to raw observation and deductive prowess. Dazai's strength ultimately lies in his uncannily accurate reading of and, funnily enough, his trust in the predictability of the people around him. That's also pretty much stated to be a big contrast between him and Fyodor in the prison chapters. That also leaves him vulnerable in a sense that when people don't act according to expectation, he tends to be a bit thrown (may also tie in with the above "status quo" point). This trust is also limited in the sense that Dazai does not open dialogue and it doesn't extend emotionally, but I digress. It's all in the text! We are literally told these things! Don't fall for his façades!!!

@purrfectlycontent

Okay, first off: are you working on that draft about Dazai's actions in Stormbringer still and may I read it once you're finished? Pretty please?

Yeah, Dazai really did the bare minimum in the Mafia... unless pushed to it lol. Some things have not really changed. It takes a lot to get him actually going - until there's some kind of genuine threat and then he's on hyperalert mode. You can't tell me that's not trauma based. He did have some semblance of loyalty to Mori it seems, as he did tell him to get out of the city once Guivre started to move towards it in Stormbringer and he was going to caution him against revealing the assassination plot to Chuuya in Fifteen but it's not the same as the strong loyalty and defensiveness of the Mafia's honour we see in most of the other members. Yeah! Reactivity!

@chuuyadelune

Yep yep yep! It's all based on probabilities. See, another reason I don't like the "Dazai is omnipotent" thing is because you can actually retrace the logic for the most part. There's some leaps but it's more about preparedness than anything else. I can't remember the full lead up to the cannons in the Guild arc but like... take the Lovecraft fight for instance. He had a bomb in his cast but I doubt he knew right from the outset that he would have to use it. It's a precaution and he had it because some of the Agency had already fought Lovecraft. Kunikida already noticed there was something weird about Lovecraft's ability and he saw his tendency to react to severe injuries with little concern. Kunikida makes detailed reports, so Dazai would've known two things - 1, Lovecraft's ability is unusual, and 2, he appears to be capable of regeneration. So, he takes something with him as a "just in case".

See, a lot of this has to do with Dazai's strong knowledge of weak points. Lovecraft is more likely to attack his broken arm because enemies often aim for opponents' perceived weaknesses. Lovecraft must have a weak point too and if it's not anywhere outside then it must be inside. Dazai's also scarily good at limiting the potential range of options for people to take; that, coupled with his accurate readings on people's characters and values heightens the accuracy of his predictions. Most of these are techniques that Mori also uses to make his plans work.

See, I think therein lies the problem in Chapter 101. Dazai premeditated that trap. And now that the ball is rolling... he can't stop it. I sincerely disbelieve he expected Chuuya to be there. Then again, if it was only Dazai who could target weak points, the conflict between him and Fyodor wouldn't be all that interesting, would it?

@lovejoyog

Yeah, I think I have the advantage of having gotten into this series like. Last year. It's a lot more recent and cohesive to me, I guess, because of that? I agree that the prison arc has to be a turning point. He's been getting worse and worse and now he has forced the hand of someone whose freedom to choose he has historically honoured. Something needs to shift for his development to continue and having Dazai attempt to drown two of his main foils (which uh. btw is the very method he tries to use on himself at the beginning of the series) is. Idk I think a good point for that to start.

Dazai: "I have defeated them."

Me, reading this and seeing all the blood: "Bro those people look pretty dead to me"

@gbxilschmidt

He very well can't mess up again, exactly. I think he's both better and worse when it comes to conscious awareness of his attachment to people. I think his bond with Oda means that he can't go back to being completely closed off since he has experienced genuine friendship, but at the same time... I think he still has that internalized "getting close gets you hurt eventually" mentality. So he's in this awkward limbo of valuing people but not really... treating them like he does to their faces. It's fear and bad habits of detachment that are easier for him to fall back on.

@note-boom

"dazai imitating others so can in essence nullify their plans" Every once in awhile you say something nonchalantly in the tags that completely rewrites my brain holy SHIT. Yeah! He nullifies their abilities and their plans! Renders it all inconsequential no matter how powerful! He, by ability and by nature, removes his opponents of their advantages to level the playing field.

I think part of the reason Dazai has so many foils is honestly because he's an excellent mirror and/or complement. That's the whole thing about "no one knows who he is" - what's the real self? What's the mimicked self? Does anyone really know? Does Dazai himself know anymore?

I think Oda really hit the nail on the head in Day I Picked Up Dazai when Dazai tells him that he was using a cover by conversing with him while watching his strategy to finally beat him at cards, and Oda's only response was "which is a cover for which?", as in: was the conversation to distract from the game, or was the game an excuse for the conversation? I wonder if Dazai himself is a bit unclear which is the cover at this point. I believe at this current stage, the best Dazai can do is emulate the pieces of those people he respects and admires.

And I think Dazai really likes being in partnerships. Not only does he mention repeatedly about how people are stronger in groups that work together and have each other's backs, but he seems to respond quite positively and genuinely to people choosing to trust him. Which is... dude. People might trust you more if you didn't do... all of that. *gestures to all of him*

@fivekrystalpetals

Honestly, I really do believe he was more relaxed than he ever was in the Mafia, at least at the beginning of the story. Dark Era does mention that Dazai always felt like "he was walking along fine blades" whenever he spoke to Mori and it's just... not a place you can let down your guard. Sometimes safety is putting walls up - and sometimes that bleeds through even when there isn't as much of a need to anymore.

@tachiguin

The shift in intention! You're right, you're absolutely right! There's a huge difference in approach when your focus is on the enemy vs their potential victims... you risk justifying the latter's sacrifice for the sake of "taking out a dangerous threat". I am unsure if Dazai conflates the two or whether he recognizes the difference but thinks only the latter is effective/sees his actions as a necessary evil. I'm inclined to think the latter.

@depressed-eldritch-horror

Yep! I think Dazai is fairly aware of when he is falling into reprehensibility, even when he was younger - think "that would be the normal way to think" bit from Fifteen, or "a man hated by righteousness" from Dark Era. I really think he knows. The problem is, like you've said, I think he's somewhat rationalized it similar to how you've spelled out above. For instance, Kunikida is always about saving others, at great expense to himself. This brings him immense pain and takes an extreme mental and emotional toll on him. I think Dazai likes having Kunikida as his partner for this reason, but I believe, given some of his comments from Entrance Exam, that he does not think his ideals sustainable or assumes that one day, he will eventually break. Idk if he thinks that anymore, but it's really worth noting that he chooses to surround himself with people who have strong morals/incredible humanity but still feels on some level that he cannot embody those things himself. Whether that's because he thinks he can't afford to, because he just doesn't believe in them the same way, or because he thinks he is literally incapable of it, I think that's up to interpretation.

@daz4i

Yes!!! Regression is a very real thing that can and does occur in the process of change and recovery, especially when elements of the old situation are suddenly thrust upon you again with little warning.

Thing is, I don't think Mori had to do much at all. They very much walk on eggshells around each other but also know some of the perfect ways to put the other in very uncomfortable situations. I don't think it's a coincidence that Q targeted Atsushi. It was definitely not a coincidence when Dazai brought up the burning of his old coat and the old boss' murder. It was hardly a coincidence that Mori set Chuuya as the first to work with the Agency during the tentative truce. They know how to work each other; unsure if it's along the lines of "if you didn't leave" but more like "you would be better here. remember when you did this and that mission went so well? we had fun together right? come back :("

Ok that got away from me. It's the "you would be better here" that is the important bit hdfbvid

"Your blood is Mafia black."

@greyveins-x

Omg. Mori's Dazai ex-machina, there to make sure his gambles go smoothly. Actually, that is very much the role he plays for a lot of people, isn't it...?

Sorry I'm running out of steam a bit. I think you're right about his perspective taking decreasing when it comes to the Mafia. It would be interesting if he screws up again because he became too confident in the Mafia's courses of action, as he did this time, but in that instance it forces him to confront himself seriously, rather than throw up more shields.

@pompompurin1028

Ok firstly, I think it's really neat that we both have similar views on these aspects of Dazai's character, as I actually have read all the light novels but not yet read any of Dazai-sensei's works, though I am familiar with them to some extent (I've been on a hold list for No Longer Human at my local library for months now... *sob*).

About the pain aversion - it's not as contradictory as people might think. Thing is, you can become numb to physical pain over time - while in Fifteen, he openly says it hurts when Chuuya attacks him, he's still rather lifeless about it, implying he's a bit... desensitized, even by that point. Pain receptors can indeed become numbed, along with general anhedonia. I think the biggest issue here is, like op suggests, emotional pain. For those of you who don't know - emotional pain actually activates the same brain areas as physical pain. While these numb too, there's not a simple solution to fixing the pain from these kinds of wounds, especially for things like outcasting or grief. What's more, memories and associations can bring this pain rushing back to the forefront. I believe this is more the pain he wishes to avoid.

I agree about the lack of control and fascinated by the notion that "everything I never want to lose is lost" is more an abstract, universal truth. I've often puzzled about this line because he says it with such certainty but I never felt he had anything to really... lose before that? I'm certain he didn't have family that cared for him, let alone friends. If a young kid, very clever and made to be on the sidelines without proper connection, came to the conclusion that nothing lasts - without having had the chance to experience the joys of it while it lasts - well, you'd probably wonder what the point of life was too. I think he's breaking out of this mentality slowly but surely, given his prison conversations with Fyodor, but he's only coming around to this in the context of other people, and not really himself. And so he still needs that pinpoint perfect control, but it actually serves little benefit for Dazai as a character and his growth. Anyways, you explained this really well op!

And to cap it all off... absolutely. He is at his best like that.

Genuinely don't think I've seen anyone talk about chapter 25 as a pivotal moment for Dazai so I'm gonna put this out here because I think his reactions here kind of negate that whole omnipotent Dazai interpretation which I hate with every fibre of my being.

Firstly, he's like, clearly caught off guard here. And don't try to tell me he wasn't, because this is just one instance of his genuinely horrified reaction to Q's release and when he realized what was actually going on with Atsushi, Naomi and Haruno.

Him being caught off guard carries significance here because you'd never catch him screwing up this bad later in the series - which is exactly my point.

I wrote a post earlier about how I don't think Dazai really is very much like Mori or Fyodor at all, and I stand by that, because their motives are different. Tldr for that post: Mori and Fyodor are ambitious and proactive, while Dazai is empty/numb and reactive.

What this leads me to believe is that Dazai is less a chess master like those two and more of a contingency planner - he's so good at "predicting" because he is uncannily good at thinking like his opponent and then planning for literally any possibility under the sun he can come up with. He's no gambler. Everything and everyone is practically (and unknowingly) micromanaged. It's almost paranoid in a sense, and I definitely think it's a trauma response to something he went through that we don't know about yet - after all, he was more than capable of this before he even met Mori.

...which brings to me to Mori's influence here. It's straight up like Dazai forgot how willing Mori is to gamble huge risks for a good outcome. It's like he forgot the mafia could be a real threat to his best-laid plans.

Going to throw out a wild claim here that I don't think is actually all that baseless - I think it's widely assumed that Dazai molds himself to what he needs to be (true!) but I think this misses the idea that he is also easily influenced by the mindsets of the people around him (see: the difference between Entrance Exam Dazai and early manga Dazai, the whole "the longer he was in the mafia the darker and more incomprehensible he became" thing from Stormbringer, how dark his eyes get in the prison sections with Fyodor, etc.). I could go on, but for the sake of not making this post too much longer, let's assume this is true because it suddenly makes sense as to why he failed to predict Q but predicted other events much later that were inherently more difficult to predict:

He was in the wrong mindset. He was thinking like an Agency member, and dare I say, he even got a little complacent. He started to get used to not having to manipulate every last variable - he was removed from a toxic environment - only for Mori to pretty much instantly fuck that up in one scene.

Let's also not forget what happened the last time he miscalculated Mori's intentions.

The consequences of this blunder could've been a lot worse and he knows it.

In his mind, thinking like an ADA member wasn't good enough to stop a potentially awful outcome - awful outcomes that could bring him pain. So, he goes back to what he knows - think like the demon prodigy. Think like Mori. Later on, think like Dostoyevsky. Because it seems to me that he believes as long as he is still working for the light that it doesn't matter if he uses these horrifically manipulative and inhumane methods of getting there. But he is wrong. Darkness within the context of good intentions is still very much darkness, and it hurts people all the same.

In the very next chapter, Dazai arranges Ango's car accident. And he only gets worse and worse throughout the series as he regresses back into his paranoid darkness that manifests as this omnipotent facade - his safety net that ultimately prevents him from developing in a positive, more human direction.

[a-tale-never-told]

I know, I know... it's just that I'm extremely afraid for Dad especially. Considering his skin color and race, he's a primary target for any white supremacist group, or racist bigot to assassinate him, especially considering his status as an Ultimate. And given that he's crippled and relies on a wheelchair to move around the house, he isn't capable of defending himself in the condition that he's in.

Look at it from this perspective: Nobody actively tried to hurt your dad, simply because he always stays within the house and has the front door locked and windows shut. Nobody actively tried to assassinate him as of late, right? So I'm absolutely sure that as long as he doesn't go outside without any of you to watch over him, he'll be fine.

I understand. I just... want him to do something, anything around the house! He's been cooped up for years in that house without putting any effort into improving our well-being. I get that he's crippled and can't walk, but that's no excuse for being lazy that he can't hide behind.

But... I absolutely understand why he can't afford to find any job opportunities, given the current state of race relations in this country. It's not like he doesn't want to pursue any opportunities to seek a job, but his disability, and the enormous gaps of segregation between white-collar workers that come from purely white families, and the rest of the racially mixed working class.

Man, it must've been incredibly stress-inducing for someone like him and you, who's already dealing with a physical disability, to just lay down on the couch and take shelter in his own home simply because he feared that he might get killed just by going outside his residence, huh?

Stress-inducing doesn't even begin to describe it... it almost felt like we were constantly being under surveillance in our own homes, always being watched and spied upon for even the slightest bit of activity we did. I had to resort to holding Mom's sniper rifle in my hands and positioning myself whenever someone knocked at the door since I couldn't tell if they were out to kill my family. Do you know how much trauma I endured from all of that alone?!

Dear god... I'm... terribly sorry for that, Mahiru. I can't even describe how much paranoia and pain you and your family must've suffered during this time.

It's fine, Sonia. Really.

Luckily, I've managed to calm down and think rationally since then, and I no longer hold the sniper rifle with me whenever a person shows up, so at least it shows that my mental state has improved... somewhat.

I just... really wanted my family to be protected from any insane, hate-filled, white supremacists that would've been out to slaughter us simply because my dad is black... and I ended up taking desperate measures to the extreme.

While I don't agree with the methods that you took to protect your family, I honestly don't blame you for being justified in your fear for your family's safety. Anyone with a sensible brain would absolutely feel threatened if a random psychopath went up to their house, and just started to kill their family members. I just doubt they would have handled it in the same manner you did.

Uh, I don't blame you for judging me on that. I admit that I should've handled the situation far better than I ended up handling it in the idiotic manner that it was committed.

But I definitely know far better than resorting to such a callous and reckless move like that. Next time, I'll try to handle situations like this far more appropriately, considering that I could've ended up shooting someone by absolute mistake.

Don't... even bring that scenario up. Please.

S-Sorry! It was just hypothetically speaking, that's all. Still, I really need to handle house security a lot better than I ended up conducting it in such a stupid and irresponsible matter. At least I know what NOT to do in the event of something like this occurring...

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

[robininthelabyrinth]

Jiang Yanli/one of the Nie brothers - your choice! Post war letter writing - a long distance slow burn type thing through letters? It would be especially lovely if they somehow save the day that way.

ao3

Untamed verse

You’d better not marry him!

Jiang Yanli did her best not to giggle when she saw the note in the mirror sitting on her dresser. It was a hand-held mirror, dusty and banged up – most people who saw it thought it was some treasured sentimental memento that she’d rescued from the Lotus Pier, probably because that was the only reason they could conceive of a lady of her status possessing something so poorly made. In fact, it was the most valuable thing that she owned, and it wasn’t even originally hers: Nie Huaisang had pressed it into her hands with a grin while she’d been staying at Qinghe during the war, claiming that he desperately needed her to keep him informed of everything that was happening while he was away in the Cloud Recesses.

She hadn’t understood what he meant until she’d looked at it again that evening and seen words shining in the mirror, at which point she’d abruptly been completely aghast – communication mirrors like that were sect treasures, utterly priceless. The technique for making them had long ago been lost, and most of them were bloodline-bound or, at utmost, used for married or engaged couples that had endure lengthy separation; she couldn’t even imagine giving something like that away to someone outside the sect that owned it. She’d written to Nie Huaisang at once with her protests, and he hadn’t listened to a single one of them, insisting that it was his inheritance that he could distribute it to anyone he pleased, and anyway that if she felt so strongly about it she could give it back to him on the event of his marriage. Or hers, if she preferred.

Jiang Yanli had eventually given in to his pestering – by the time she’d figured out its use, Nie Huaisang was long gone, and she really didn’t want to get him in trouble by revealing what he’d done – and they’d kept up a correspondence ever since. During the war it hadn’t been all that much, mostly updates on how the people around them were doing, but after, when it was done, Nie Huaisang’s liveliness had started making a comeback with a vengeance: he had opinions on people, lots of them, and he was a positive fountain of gossip. Really funny gossip, too.

Well maybe you should have warned me that Sect Leader Jin was going to make that sort of proposal, she wrote back, tracing the brush straight onto the mirror without any ink – the words were formed in the faint condensation that always seemed to cling to it, and sank into the mirror, vanishing without a trace.

If I’d known about it, I would have! You can’t hold that against me! Anyway you can’t possibly marry Jin Zixuan, he was a complete ass to you.

Jiang Yanli smiled. She knew how blessed she was, to have brothers and friends whose first thought was always her happiness and never the political situation.

Maybe he’s gotten better.

Jiang-jiejie! You can’t!

There are certain undeniable advantages to it, Jiang Yanli wrote, feeling a little wry and regretful. She’d never allowed herself to be a romantic, not even when she’d been younger – too aware of how ordinary she was, too aware of her position, her responsibility to her parents and her sect…it was all the more critical now, no matter what brave words her beloved Jiang Cheng said both in public and to her in private. Just because he didn’t want to have to trade her away for benefits, using her life to solidify an alliance with a bond that couldn’t be shaken as easily as the words on a page, didn’t mean that it might not make the most sense to do it.

Jiejie! Nie Huaisang wrote back, somehow managing to convey a great deal of emotion in very few characters.

Don’t jiejie me, she wrote, scolding lightly. You know it’s true. The Jin sect has money, stability and power, and my Jiang sect currently lacks all of those things.

But -

And it’s not as if it would be a tragedy to marry Jin Zixuan; I’ve only spent my entire life preparing to do it. I liked him rather a lot when we were younger…you might not remember, back in the Cloud Recesses, but I really did, I was very genuine. It wouldn’t be that hard to dig those feelings back out again.

Though…perhaps she might only admit it to Nie Huaisang, but it would have to be an affirmative effort to do so, if she did.

It was hard to maintain liking in the face of such consistent rejection – first in the Cloud Recesses, then later, again and again…Jin Zixuan had matured more during the war, and he’d been nothing but polite during the times when he’d escorted her to and fro through the dangerous paths, from battlefield to safety. But then there’d been the incident with the soup and it was all happening over again…It was painfully clear that even after years and years, Jin Zixuan still didn’t care to know her enough to know that she would never behave in such a manner. Even if he regretted what he’d done, if he by some miracle he liked her now, it was more than a little insulting.

But if Jiang Yanli’s pride, inherited from her mother, was deeply stung, then her practicality, inherited from her father, still ruled over her heart. If the best move for the Jiang sect was for her to marry Jin Zixuan, and it might very well be, then she would continue her tentatively started acquaintanceship with Madame Jin. She would accept all future invitations to be pushed together with Jin Zixuan against her will, and while she wouldn’t bend her neck to beg for his attention, if he finally showed interest…well…

Like she said, it wouldn’t be that hard to resurrect her former interest in him.

Jiang Yanli was a practical girl, friendly and easy-going. No matter the circumstances, she could find a way to be happy.

The Jin sect isn’t the only sect with money, power, and stability, Nie Huaisang wrote. You’re selling yourself short! Just because you can be happy with him doesn’t mean that’s the happiest you could be.

Happiness is a state of mind, Jiang Yanli wrote back to him, smiling a little – younger brothers never understood the nature of sacrifice the way oldest daughters did, and that was a good thing. And I really don’t have as many options as you might think. My Jiang sect is a Great Sect, and has to be mindful of its dignity; I can’t just marry some rogue cultivator or sect no one has heard of. And even the larger small sects…now that the Jin have expressed an interest, there won’t be many who would be willing to cross them in order to have me.

It was the simple truth of it. That was why Jin Guangshan had made the announcement public – even though she’d demurred and put him off, he’d known he was boxing her in, cutting off her options.

Then get someone whose influence outweighs theirs!

Jiang Yanli actually laughed out loud. Jiang Cheng had said something similar when she’d pointed out the situation they were in, refusing to acknowledge reality, rejecting it as if things could be different if only he willed it strongly enough. He’d done the impossible with resurrecting their sect, so he’d assumed the same would be true for her marriage. Sadly, things were never so easy as that.

That leaves me with the Lan and the Nie, she wrote, smiling. The Lan are notoriously picky. Are you making me an offer?

Nothing on the mirror.

She realized belatedly that he might not realize that she was joking, and lifted her brush to clarify, but before she could, the mirror shimmered again –

Yes.

Jiang Yanli blinked. Before she could say anything, the mirror was suddenly fully of words.

I don’t see why I can’t! You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever met, and even if you’re a weak cultivator in Jin Zixuan’s eyes, you’re still stronger than I am – anyway, no one in my sect will care about something like that. My brother’s always wanted me to marry someone who I liked, who’ll make me happy; I don’t see why I can’t be happy with you, and you can be happy with me. Certainly happier, and more genuinely, than you’d be with Jin Zixuan, at least until he grows up a little…even if you don’t actually want me, I’d be more than happy to pretend for a while, let him learn to fight for you. Just think about it!

Jiang Yanli stared at the mirror as Nie Huaisang rambled on, alternating between trying to convince her to marry him and trying to convince her to at least become engaged with him in some wild scheme to piss off the Jin sect and convince Jin Zixuan that if he wanted to make a move for her, he had to get off his ass and do it – accordingly to Nie Huaisang, the biggest problem Jin Zixuan had was that things came too easily to him, everything he wanted being given to him by his parents, never having to work for anything, no effort meaning no satisfaction with the result…

All right, Jiang Yanli wrote, and the words suddenly stopped. Let’s get engaged. We can work out how the rest will go after that, all right?

She waited for his response with her heart in her mouth. If he’d only been joking…

I’ll talk to my brother, Nie Huaisang wrote back immediately. Tonight. You just keep on refusing that arrogant jerk for now, all right? We’ll come talk to you soon, just you wait.

Jiang Yanli found herself smiling again, except instead of the faint, resigned smile she’d gotten used to, it was a real one. It was nice to be asked, nice to be wanted. Even if it did end up being a sham in the end, and Jin Zixuan did somehow pull off a caper to win her heart back after all this time, it would be…

It would be fun.

[acti-veg]

About the Soup Activism. I'm not upset about it since there was a glass panel. But I don't see how it accomplishes anything & to me it's bad optics. Targeting a painting in a public museum of a man who died in poverty has nothing to do with the climate (yes I've read their reasons). Do that in places where the disruptions will matter, like a bank or a private jets terminal or a slaugher house or a golf course. This anti oil group accept crypto donations & seems to be focused on travelling 1/2

a lot to do demonstrations like this. To be fair they also use the money to organise talks. Still the stunt events seem to be the focus and it doesn't do anything apart getting people talking and hyping the media to make more people hate climate activism. Just words and using polluting methods to spread them. That seems counterproductive 2/2

What does any lone climate protest achieve? Can you name for me an achievable protest that would materially address climate change? Because I can’t. That’s not what protest is - this is one act among a global collective of activists aimed at disrupting institutions and individuals to the point where it has to be addressed. Climate protests will continue to get stranger, because that’s the only way to get anyone’s attention on this issue now, good or bad.

You’re missing the point - no Van Gogh’s work has nothing to do with climate change, but they weren’t protesting Van Gogh. It is has nothing to do with the man, the work, his life or is death, or the fact that it’s an ‘oil’ painting which I’ve seen a depressing number of people parroting - the painting was just a public stage for them to say what they wanted to say.

As for crypto, it’s a non-issue and is just a great example of the kinds of things people will reach for to discredit a protest movement. It’s yet more of the same things all protestors deal with every day, as a vegan activist I constantly get ‘what are those shoes made out of bro’ ‘hey bet you killed loads of bugs on the way here in your car didn’t you lol.’ They take what money they can get to do the work they do, so long as it doesn’t influence the kind of work they do or who they target I really don’t see the issue.

In terms of bad optics, that criticism has been levelled at just about every protest movement to have ever existed, especially those who challenge a status quo that many of us currently benefit from. Do I think this is the best thing they could have done to promote positive public engagement? No, of course not, but I’m at a loss as to what else they’re supposed to do at this point other than grab the public’s attention and try to hold it.

You said it yourself - you read their reasoning. Do you know what an accomplishment that is for a small protest? Two protestors with a couple of cans of soup? To get potentially hundreds of thousands of people to Google what you did and why? It may not have been perfect or popular but it is more than most of us will ever accomplish.

More palatable education and protest campaign are happening every single day, and this needs to be viewed in that wider context. In fact, this very group has done plenty of other more ‘softly softly’ kind of work, we just don’t hear about it because the media doesn’t cover it. We are at a crisis point now, normal life cannot continue in the face of what will be a catastrophic climate catastrophe, we need a covid level response and people will get increasingly desperate the more it is pushed to the sidelines of public consciousness and political debate.

Climate protest is going to get more and more disruptive because it has to, because we cannot let it be ignored in the way it is being now. Not all of it will be things you like, or things that give climate protestors ‘good optics.’ The point is to disrupt, to engage, to educate - one protest can’t do everything but unfortunately this one act has got people talking about climate change more than the millions of people all over the world who are suffering and dying because of drought, extreme heat, floods and all the other effects of a rapidly deteriorating planet.

We talk about this issue as if we have time to do this nicely, to make sure every protest is on message and won’t piss off the public but we just don’t. At this stage of a global catastrophe and a collective turning away I’ll take any public attention on this issue that we can get. At least they’re doing something.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[funtimebunnyblog]

So! What about the god ok switch-a-roo? The pillarmen are now human and their s/os are pillarmen!

I interpreted this request as body swapping (similar to what we see in a much later part of JoJo) and I hope this is what you meant, my dear Anon! 🙏❤🥰

If not and you meant for me to write this in another way, I am SO sorry I misinterpreted the request and I sincerely hope you still enjoy this nonetheless! 😅😇

Body swapping with the Pillarmen! 😱 🔁

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Ending up in your body will piss Kars off more than anything really.

• Don't get him wrong, he loves you with all his heart; it's just that he's a man who is rather comfortable in his superiority and status over your race.

• He had worked VERY hard to get himself where he wanted to be afterall...

• Suddenly being reduced to a mere Human is enough to make his (er... your) stomach turn.

• Kars' new "limitations" in your body however didn't stop him from working out how this happened and, more importantly, how to UNDO it ASAP.

• When you happen to come to in Kars' body, the feeling is unsettling and strange to say the least.

• Piloting not only a Pillarmans body but Ultimate lifeform's as well will take you some getting used to for sure.

• For one thing, you'll come to find his hair gets in the way of EVERYTHING.

• If the wind blows or if you happen to turn sharply it's suddenly in your (well... his, but you get the idea) mouth or sticking in your eyes or just plain in your face!

• You can't understand how he stands it at all!

• There's no time for you to ask him to teach you how to wrap it up like he does either to remedy the issue so you have to grin and bear it.

• On the other hand, even the slightest jump in your emotions makes his arm blades spring forth!

• You almost ended up accidentally stabbing Kars (while he was in your body) as a result of getting worked up over the whole matter.

• Kars could only watch you floundering about in his body, frowning and shaking your human head as he told you repeatedly to keep calm and they'll stay put.

• As if you could keep level-headed at all in this situation as it was.

• On the upside ot things however... you learn some interesting things about Kars.

• "...Wait." you paused, peering down at the muscular legs beneath you; your eyes bore into Kars' boots with a critical gaze. There was something cushy sitting just below the heel on the inside.

• "Do you... have cloth wedged into your boots?" A sangria eyebrow raised, ruby eyes falling onto Kars.

• You watched as the features of your own face shifted dramatically, mouth falling open, scandalized. "I--" he began, but your voice fell short as he couldn't find anything to say in defense.

• "Do you do this to make yourself look taller?" A wheeze rose up in the Pillarman's chest, rich barking laughter ringing out as you doubled over in laughter.

• You suddenly came to the realization that you had never once seen Kars without his boots off, the pumps at the very bottom of the boots gave him a little boost as it was but on the inside it quite literally felt like you were wearing a pair of high heels.

• You were starting to wonder just how tall Kars really was. Hell, you were starting to wonder if he even passed Santana in height without these boots on!

• Your laughter fell short as a familiar, much smaller, hand reached up and grabbed your new body by the scarf. You were hauled down to meet the burning and intense gaze of your own eyes, Kars snarling right up into his own face.

• Jeeze, had your face always looked that red when you got angry before?

• "If you speak of this to ANYONE, I will spill each and every one of your own secrets to the others," he growled lowly, giving your voice an uncharacteristically harsh and grating tone. "Am I clear?"

• It took all you had inside not to call him "shortie" once things were finally back to the way they were and you both settled back into your own bodies.

• Despite your curiosity, your question on his exact height would never get answered.

• Kars knew how to put those arm blades to use better than you of course...

Esidisi:

• Oh boy... you have to be VERY careful piloting this one.

• And I mean the absolute definition of careful!

• When your consciousness ends up transfered into Esidisi's body, its no surprise that you feel very warm and fuzzy on the inside.

• It's almost a feeling akin to when you sit just a little too long in a bath that's a little too hot.

• Strangely, it was actually kind of a comforting feeling amongst this whole ordeal.

• However, if you're not careful with your emotions (warm and fuzzy feeling or not) than you might just accidentally end up burning a hole right through the Earth!

• Or worse... end up spraying scalding hot blood and flaying fleshy veins dripping with the stuff in all directions.

• Your core temperature has to constantly be monitored or you'll pay the price.

• It seems like even if you unfocus for one singular second, the Pillarman's entire body starts to smolder like a cake burning in an oven!

• Esidisi, on the other hand, is actually quite enjoying being in your body.

• He's having a much better time than you are for sure. In fact, he's laughing like this is nothing more than a game to him!

• You'll have to keep your eyes on him because he can't keep his (or rather, your) hands off your body.

• "Esidisi!" You barked, the Pillarman's voice was like the clap of thunder as it raised in octave; clearing the air with its power and inevitably startling you (again) even though you were the one wielding it. "Get your hands out of there, right now!"

• Your command was met with laughter, you watched as a wide grin stretched across your own face as Esidisi pried your hands off of your behind (for the 3rd time) and tucked them neatly into your pockets as he continued to giggle to himself.

• "I wasn't doing anything~" he purred, making your voice sound uncannily like a bad child playing innocent, acting wasn't just caught squeezing your cake.

• He was being to curious for his own good.

• That and the fact that he's taking enjoyment out of little ordinary Human things while piloting your body

• Things like feeling actual pain when skin is pinched or when hair is pulled seemed like it could entertain him for hours on end.

• If you don't keep a close eye on him and his shenanigans, you might just end up getting your body back all banged and bruised up if he goes too far with his fun.

• Fair enough, as he might just get his back half-burned into the ground or covered in blood...

Wamuu:

• Wamuu straight up does NOT have a good time dealing with suddenly being Human.

• The fact that it's your body he's in doesn't help that any either.

• 12/10 would NOT do again. 0 STARS!

• Wamuu, always a composed and calculating Warrior and tactician, was now in full panic mode.

• All his life he carried himself with pride, building his little ego off all his strengths and victories because of his status and his incredible unmatchable power.

• Now, with all of that ripped away from him, the Warrior felt too vulnerable and naked for his liking in this Human form.

• "Ow! OW!!!" Wamuu cried, eyes wide as your hands flew to your back. "Why does it hurt there? Do you always have pain like this?" Came the question, it was more than strange (and a little unsettling) to hear your own voice asking you that so desperately.

• "You get used to it." You replied, the deepness of the Pillarman's voice sending deep vibrations through the hardened chest as you spoke.

• "Why-- Why does this body feel so sluggish? I feel so inexplicably weary..." "I know. You get used to that too." "WHY IS EVERYTHING SORE?! WHY IS EVERYTHING CREAKING?!" "It's fine. That's normal."

• On the other hand, your mind suddenly being swapped into Wamuu's body isn't quite as bad as being in the others but... there are still some things to get used to.

• For one thing, it was hard to get used to simply walking around in it.

• Wamuu was so immensely big, muscular and heavy that you felt as if you were shaking the Earth with each step, causing you to lumber and stumble around with no grace to speak of.

• For another, a wirlwind just seemed to follow you wherever you went. It was honestly harder to control than it looked!

• When you wanted it to move one way, it went another. Wind blew up, wind blew down.

• You found yourself standing around, massive hands flying to the loincloth in an attempt to keep it from flinging up and showing too much.

• You wanted to spare least a shred of Wamuu's lost dignity while he wasn't piloting his own body after all.

• His horn is an entirely different matter.

• At one point the breeze blew too strong and the Pillarmen's signature headpiece suddenly flew right off his head and then... out sprang the horn.

• It shot 18 feet into the air, skewering two trees and drilling right through them like an overcharged power drill; a terrifying whir filling the air as chunks of wood flayed in every direction.

• The entire time you screamed in terror (you had no idea Wamuu's voice could go so high until that moment), slicing through an entire plot of trees as Wamuu yelled for you to put it away before it went for something breathing... like your own body that he was currently inhabiting.

• In the end, the relief you both feel to be back in your own bodies once the entire mess is fixed is immeasurable.

• You also both agree to never speak of the experience again for as long as you live.

Santana:

• Much like Kars, Santana is more unimpressed about the whole thing rather than upset or worried.

• Apart from you of course, Santana just barely tolerated Humans (or Primitives as he liked to call them) as it was.

• He often spoke about how fragile and flawed your kind was, honestly the defenselessness of a Human was laughable in his eyes.

• Therefore, he absolutely does NOT like suddenly being reduced to one, even if it is your body.

• The entire time he's practically pouting, the very definition of apathetic, grumbling to himself and following close behind as you tried to chase down the person responsible for the swap.

• "This form is... limiting." Came the low growl, each word sounding so very unlike you despite the fact it was your voice he was using. Santana practically spat as he kept talking, "Flawed. Primal. Defenseless."

• You were handling things admittedly better than Santana but it was still more than overwhelming.

• For one thing, you'll come to find that Santana's senses are extremely heightened.

• You never realized how very unbelieveably strong a sense of smell, taste and hearing could be until now.

• You could smell animals that had passed through the area nearly a fortnight ago just by putting your nose to the air. You could hear the thumping of your own heart from where it sat back in your own chest as Santana followed close at your heels.

• For another thing... Santana's body felt... odd.

• It was a strange and indescribable feeling; it was best put as you felt like a substance that constantly balanced between solid and liquid.

• How on Earth could he stand being a living mass of puddy and sharp deadly bones all the time?!

• As Santana kept grumbling about how very imperfect his new form was, your only hope was to give him that huge bag of gummy bears you had been saving in your bag for later to snack on.

• It would give you a moment of silence to think straight. However, if Santana was himself that would've been a good idea but in this case... not so much.

• "What's wrong?" You questioned, the Pillarman's gravely voice holding a different tone than you were used to as you used it, studying him.

• Santana had suddenly stopped following and was now slumped over, clutching at your stomach. A low whine surfaced, almost a sob, as he spoke through clenched teeth.

• "Do.... not.... feel..... good." Came the whimper. You came rushing to his side, your temorary body dwarfing your real one as you pulled Santana close to see if he had somehow gotten hurt.

• "What--" the question fell short as you spied the now very empty bag of gummy bears laying nearby.

• That bag had been huge, filled to the brim with bright and colourful gushy candy... and Santana had eaten ALL of them.

• It was that day that Santana found out that a Humans biggest flaw was that too much sugar made them sick.

• Good luck with enjoying getting your body back when the time comes as you now suspected you would spend your time kneeled over a bucket with a hot water bottle instead of celebrating...

[theright-sideofme]

Mate. C. San. [Part 1]

Werewolf!San x fem!reader WC: 3.7k Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of past verbal abuse.let me know if i missed anything

series masterlist | main masterlist Next Part

As a child you were told stories about what lurked in the woods and why you were never to go in them alone. After all, “a young girl like you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself.” Those belittling words made you sick. You were very much capable of protecting yourself, you were just never allowed to. Your father made sure you stayed at home with your mother, learning how to become a “good wife” so he could wed you off as soon as possible. The old man was absolutely insufferable. Always commenting on how you were going to die alone if you kept up your stubborn antics, which only made you act up more. You didn’t want to be just someone's wife, you wanted to be your own person, with opinions that mattered and a voice that was heard, but that’s just not the life you were born into.

You remember the first time your father told you about the woods, it was around the same time you were beginning to realize your parents were utterly shit people. “Father, why can’t I go play in the woods?” “Those woods aren’t meant for little girls Y/n, it’s filled with all sorts of horrible monsters,” and that should’ve been enough to scare you, but it only intrigued you more. What type of monsters? What did they look like? Would they want to play with you? You were ready to bombard your father with all those questions, but the loud, whining howl cutting through the crisp morning air cut you off and had your father scrambling to get you inside. Ever since then you had felt drawn to the woods, a longing you felt in every fiber of you being. It was almost as if you were longing for a home you had never been to.

You sat outside, letting the sun warm skin as you leaned against the old oak tree in the garden, you felt at peace. This week had been hectic, lots of running around doing errands, getting ready for the arrival of a very well respected family. You were probably the least excited for their arrival, which was ironic seeing as you were probably going to be leaving with them. Their son had taken an interest in you at the king's annual Winter Ball and insisted that you be his wife. Even after turning him down on the spot, he was persistent. Eventually his father contacted yours and now they were on their way for a week of business talk regarding the arrangement of your soon to be engagement. You were sick, absolutely revolted at the thought of marrying this spoiled brat of a man who simply couldn’t take no for an answer.

Looking over to the woods, you sighed, wishing you could just run and just never stop. Run until you're so deep in the woods no one would ever be able to find you. What was really stopping you other than your father? Your own fears? No, it wasn’t that, you had more to fear at home than in the woods. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized nothing was holding you back other than the belief you couldn’t. Your entire life you were told you not to so you just believed you couldn’t, but in actuality there was nothing stoping you from standing up and walking right into the woods.

“Y/n!”--

-- Except your mothers shrieking scream of your names.

“Y/n where the hell are you! They’re going to be here any moment!�� And your peace was broken. All thoughts of running off into the woods being pushed aside, deemed a silly escape fantasy as you stood up to go put your mothers worrying to rest.

--

“Where were you” Hongjoong asked, even though he already knew the answer. San had a bad habit of getting too close to town, almost being caught more times than the pack could count. But there was one manor in particular San loved visiting, the Y/l/n manor. A huge, beautiful house surrounded by acres of land that belonged to the most well respected family in the country. Hongjoong believed San had a death wish to be getting so close to a house that belonged to a family of that status. San’s excuse was he liked the thrill, which was partly true, but not the reason he visits said house almost everyday.

“Out” San shrugged his alpha off, walking right past him and into the kitchen. Hongjoong didn’t leave it at that, not this time. He was worried about San and what would happen to not only him but the rest of the pack if he got caught.

“You can’t keep going out there,” San scoffed, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance as he got himself some water. “I’m serious, you’re putting all of our lives in danger by going out there so often” “I know what I’m doing” “do you? Then enlighten me because I have no fucking clue why you would actively put your life at risk just to get a peak at that stupid house!” Hongjoong’s voiced boomed through the entire house, which caught the attention of the rest of their packmates who quickly came to the kitchen to see what was going on.

“You wouldn’t understand” San mumbled, feeling a bit more humbled after Hongjoong had used his alpha voice. Hongjoong very rarely used his alpha voice and when he did, it was terrifying. Everyone in the house could feel the fear in their bones when he did, along with an overwhelming urge to back off and obey their alpha. San was no different, feeling the immediate need to tuck tail and run after pissing Hongjoong off so much.

Hongjoong hated using his alpha voice. He never wanted any of his packmates to feel like he was ever unfairly using his alpha status against them, but he just couldn’t help it when it came to matters that involved the whole pack's safety. At first he was fine with letting San look around, sneak peaks at the town and the manor. He thought if he let him get all his curiosity out he would be fine and he wouldn’t need to go back again, but he was wrong. After his first time visiting the manor he immediately went back the next day, and the day after that and almost every day for the past three months, and Hongjoong was more than worried for what it meant for the pack if he was caught.

“Try me” the alpha offered, so angry but also so desperate to understand San’s apparent need to go back to the manor so often. He wanted to help out the younger boy while also keeping him safe. San averted his eyes to the ground as he took in a shaky breath. “I saw my mate.” His voice was so quiet anyone with normal hearing would’ve missed it, but in the house full of werewolves, everyone heard it.

Absolute chaos broke out among the pack, everyone shouting questions at San about how he knew and what it was like. Words jumbled up together as everyone fought to get their question answered and to understand what having a mate was like. They all knew they had mates, every werewolf did, but San was the first in the pack to actually meet- well, see, his. Hongjoong stood with an indecipherable look on his face that made San uneasy.

“I-I know it’s dangerous for me to keep going there so often. I’ll start going less! I just- I need to see her, it’s the best thing I have since I can’t be with her.” San felt his heart break at his own words. He’d never admitted that to himself out loud and hearing those words leave his lips made him want to crawl into a hole and die, but it was the truth. San knew there was no way he was going to be able to be with you, you were the daughter of a highly respected lord, and from what he heard from the servants today, you were soon to be engaged. It was a cruel joke fate had decided to play on him.

“What do you mean you can’t be with her'' Mingi asked from behind Hongjoong, him and the rest of the pack slowly making their way fully into the kitchen. “She’s lady Y/l’n, daughter of the highly respected Lord Y/l/n” San’s words left his lips with a certain type of sadness that made the rest of his pack members feel for him. They couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to find your mate and know you can’t be with them.

“San-” “please, no pity. I’ll be good, I promise” and despite his airy tone, the look in his eyes gave away how much he was really hurt. “Just, be careful when you go” was all Hongjoong said, not wanting to press him anymore.

--

It was another day of trying desperately to avoid every living soul who currently resided inside your families manor. You felt overwhelmed these past couple of days with everyone talking so warmly about the now settled engagement. Your father was more than happy to wed you off and your intolerable fiance just wouldn’t leave you alone. You could never find a moment alone, and moment to breath. But now, alone in your garden under your oak tree, you were calm. There was no one trying to remind you to keep up your perfect little image, no fiance rambling on about how excited he was to get you into bed on your wedding night, no father reminding you how lucky you were someone actually wanted to deal with you for once, it was just you and your tree.

Not too far away from you in the woods, unbeknownst to you, stood San. He kept an attentive eye on you, admiring you effortless beauty with total awe. There was a pang in his chest as he remembered his words from a few days prior, “- since I can’t be with her.” God it hurt. All he wanted was to hold you in his arms and protect you from everything evil and bad in this world. He wanted to shower you with affection and feel pride in his chest just from knowing you were all his, but you weren’t.

Almost as if you could feel his longing gaze on you, you looked up into the woods, head cocked to the side in thought. San was ready to duck down and hide, but then your eyes locked with his, and he was frozen, both of you were. You knew you should’ve been scared, you should’ve ran inside screaming for your guards, but you didn’t, you simply stared. You didn’t feel off put or uneasy by his presence, you almost felt comforted, as weird as it sounds.

San on the other hand was a total wreck, his heart beating out of his chest, sweat building up on the bone of his brow. He had no idea what to do, if he should do anything at all. And despite how scared he was of getting caught and potentially putting his whole pack at risk, he was happy to be able to see your face clearly. The calling of your name snapped both of you out of your little trances, San quickly ducking down, and you turning to see who was calling you. “There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you” you fiance said as he quickly made his way over to you. “Your mother wanted me to come get you for dinner” you simply nodded, pushing yourself up off the ground, not expecting your fiance to pull you up by your waist. The sudden action had San growling from behind his tree, watching the man with absolute hatred in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing” you asked, quickly pushing his hands off of you. “I was helping you up” “I don’t need your help” “Stop being so stubborn, we’re going to be married soon, you’re going to need to get used to me touching you” “touching me?” “Yes, last time I checked sex involves-” A loud smack echoed through the garden. He stood there for several moments, shocked, trying to assess if that really just happened. “Our engagement gives you no right to touch or talk to me however you so please, do I make myself clear.” Your fiance looked back at you with a darkness you’ve only ever seen from your father. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I am the man in this relationship. You are the woman. My women, my bitch-”

Your fiancé was cut off by a large, sandy wolf jumping in between the two of you. Startled you jumped back, your back now firmly against the tree as you watch the wolf snap and snarl at your fiancé.

You were more shocked than anything, looking at where the sandy colored wolf came from, realizing it was the same place you had just seen that man standing not too long ago. You quickly turned your head back to the wolf and stared in awe. It was huge, much larger than any house dog you had seen before.

Your fiance was soon calling out for the guards which promptly broke you out of your awestruck state. “You have to go, now!” You yelled at the wolf, gently tugging on its fur, which in any other case would’ve gotten your hand bit off. The sound of boots pounding against the floor started getting louder and you were getting more anxious. Not having time to think about why you wanted to save this wolf so badly, you quickly made your way in front of it and started pushing it back. “Go, now!”

San looked up at you, his the red fading from his vision as he stared at your face. However, he didn’t get to look long as the sound of boots soon reached his ears as well. Sparing you one last glance, he turned around and sprinted back into the woods.

“What is it, what happened my lord?” One of the guards asked as soon as they had reached the two of you. “W-Wolf! There was a wolf right there! It nearly tore me to shreds!” Your fiance began to ramble on, the longer he went on, the more the guards looked unsure of his words. “My lady, did you see the wolf?” “Of course she did, it was-” “no, I never saw a wolf.” Your fiance looked at you in total disbelief, but you remained with the same stoic face. The guards simply told our fiance there was nothing they could do since the wolf wasn’t there and led the two of you inside.

The entire diner your thoughts were full of that strange man, who you were certain turned into that wolf. It had to be him, there was no other explanation as to how that wolf got there that fast. Why was he there? Why did he protect you? Why did he make you feel so safe? Those questions lingered in your brain the entire night.

--

San thought it would be best to stay away for a while after the incident. He didn’t want to risk getting caught in case they were on high alert. So he stayed home, pacing in his room, running circles around the house, roughhousing with his pack mates, pretty much anything to keep him mind off you. It was harder than he thought, especially after being the closest he’s ever been to you, he longed to be that close again.

“San, you need to slow down-” “I’m fine” he responded in a short yell right before turning into his wolf form to go for a run. Seonghwa let out an exasperated sigh as he watched San disappear off into the trees that surrounded their house. “Is he gonna be okay” Wooyoung asked from behind Seonghwa, both of their eyes trained on where the sandy wolf just disappeared. “He’ll be fine” Seonghwa tried to reassure, but it was obvious that even he didn’t know.

You, however, were handling things differently. You had left your family's manor. Year after year you longed to leave and disappear into the woods and all it took was a strange man who you felt oddly connected to for you to actually do it. Why were you so drawn to this man? You didn’t know, all you knew was you needed to find him.

You were running as fast as you could to get as far as possible from your family’s manor. They were going to come looking for you, you knew that much. So the more distance you could put in between you and them the better. As you were running you could barely feel the burning in your lungs or ache of your legs, but rather the wind against your skin and the overwhelming feeling of being free.

You were free.

You weren’t tied down to your wretched family who only cared about selling you like cattle or the rules all of the entailed. No, not anymore. It was like the chains had broken and your cell door was left wide open, and you were free.

--

San felt different. He was more anxious than he had been the past couple of days, but in a good way. He had no idea what had changed or why he was feeling this way. He didn’t care. All he knew was if he didn’t get out his pent up energy he was going to explode. So out the door he went, ignoring the calls of his packmates and disappearing into the trees.

He ran and ran, enjoying the rush of the wind flowing freely through his fur as he let this light hearted feeling wash over him. He was so caught up in the feeling of running, he hadn't noticed his body had gone in auto pilot, leading him astray from his normal path and deeper into the woods to a place he had never been- a clearing.

There was a crystal blue lake shining like a glittering star in the moonlight. Lily pads were scattered across the smooth surface and flowers bloomed beautifully all around the edges. San hadn’t noticed any of it though. As soon as he entered the clearing his eyes were drawn to a figure sitting on the edge of the lake. And as if you sensed his presence, you looked up and smiled.

“Well hello there.” San’s heart swelled at the sound of your voice and he could’ve sworn his eyes were the personification literal of heart eyes. Your smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, it was warm and inviting and everything he imagined home would feel like. One half of him wanted to scold you for being out here alone where you could get hurt, the other half wanted to run up to you and nuzzle into your side and let you run your fingers through his fur. He opted for the unspoken third option, slowly approaching you, watching you closely for any fear or discomfort, but he saw none. You looked oddly calm for someone who was now face to face with a giant werewolf.

“Why do I feel so connected to you?” You mused aloud with a cocked head as you scanned his face before staring into his eyes. The raw curiosity in your eyes was something of mirrored pure innocence.

San couldn’t answer, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was in his wolf form and he would rather not shift back in front of you. He figured this would be a conversation better with clothes on. So instead of answering, he nudged you till you were next to his back and then lowered himself to the ground, urging you to get on, and you did.

--

When you reached San’s house, you didn’t feel uncomfortable or out of place. You felt oddly calm, and it was starting to annoy you with how okay you were when it came to anything relating to this strange man. You should be running for the hills, calling the guards and wanting nothing to do with him. San lowered himself enough so you could get off his back and led you to the front door.

“San! I swear to- oh.” The man who was just yelling froze and just stared at you in shock, all of his prior thoughts gone. San noticed how you moved closer to him when Seonghwa had come out, your hands subconsciously reaching out for him and he felt like his heart could burst.

San simply looked up at the elder boy who seemed to understand what San wanted from him.“Um, hi. I’m Seonghwa. Let me get you something to drink while San gets changed.” You looked at San who simply nudged you forward. “That would be nice, thank you.”

You and Seonghwa sat in the kitchen just talking. You thought there would be some sort of awkward silence between the two of you, but in all honesty he was very easy to get along with. He asked you about your family and never pushed you to answer when you were feeling uncomfortable. He even made you a sweet honey rose tea that you fell in love with.

The two of you didn’t talk long though because San had rushed to shift back and get dressed so he could talk to you. San all but bursted into the kitchen, his lovestruck eyes landing on you in an instant. “I- wow, hi.” You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he was. “Hi.”

Seonghwa sat there for a moment longer, watching as his younger friend looked at you with absolute adoration and how you met his gaze back with a sweet, caring smile. He thought the two of you looked like little lovesick puppies and you barely knew each other. Shaking his head with a smile, he made his way out of the kitchen to give you two some privacy, patting San on the back as he left.

“So, I’m a werewolf” “nice to meet you werewolf” “I- what no! I’m San! My name is San. Sorry, I’m kinda nervous.” You let out a soft laugh, the sound putting all San’s nerves at ease. You stood up so that you were now in front of him, holding your hand out for him to take. “Nice to meet you San, I’m Y/n.”

—

taglist: @itsyaapollochild

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Unexpected Ally’s

...!

*Kibin finally gets to the middle of the park and, after taking a skeptical look around, clambers up the statue in the middle of the fountain. She goes to the top and places the charge.

Alright, charge has been planted boys.

Good to hear. Kuripa, how are things going on your end?

Things got a little complicated. Future Foundation finally showed up and they’re out to get me. But there is good news.

Toko and Akeru flipped the coin on their allies. Apparently Komaru’s the one leading this charge, and Toko can’t get behind her decisions. She’s holding them off from getting to the center of the park.

Damn. That’s unexpected.

Not unwelcome though-Huh?

*Kuripa, hiding behind a tree, suddenly sees something out of the norm. A large red truck pulls into the park.

Yeah. I see it too. Now that Kibin’s planted the charge, I’m getting a whole radar scan of the park. Katagiri’s men are here.

Don’t engage with them Kuripa. Just tell me what they’re doing.

Alright.

*Kuripa points his head over

Security Guard: Get two men on this side, two men on that side.

Security Guard: What the hell even is in this pile of garbage?

Security Guard: Mr Yodogawa wouldn’t tell me either. All I know is that it’s a new defense mechanism. Whatever he’s cooking here in the park is apparently top priority, and he wants as many people and tech on guard as he can get.

Byakuya: Where are you Kurafto!?

!!?

Security Guard: What was that...!?

Security Guard: Dammit! Someone else is in the park! Split up and find them!

(No...!)

Security Guard: What do we do when we find them.

Security Guard: Kindly ask them to leave. And if they refuse? Make them.

Genocide Jill: KEHAHA! Hey, White Knight! Come and catch meee~!

Byakuya: DAMMIT TOKO! What’s gotten into you!?

*Kuripa pulls out of his hiding spot and starts to run across the park, using the shadows as cover.

Rantaro! Kibin! The guards have overheard the Future Foundation. They’re flanking out across the park looking for intruders.

Make sure they stay on their current path! Whatever that device is, we need it to get close to the statue and supercharge the device.

Supercharge it?

Let me explain.

The device on it’s own can scan the whole park, but we need to detonate it to deactivate Katagiri’s defense mechanisms. That will open up his base and shut down all his automated security. It’ll just be the actual human guards we have to deal with in that case.

Alright, I think I get it. Hold tight for a moment, I’m just gonna-!

*click!*

!!??

Kuripa!? What’s wrong?

Hang on a second, I gotta deal with something.

*Kuripa rounds the corner behind an equipment shack and closes comms, looks forward with a frown.

Heh...Looks like I win.

Uuuugh I forgoot about yooouu...

I do have to thank you though. I also overheard those security guards. Now I have a better idea of what you’re aiming to achieve here.

Katagiri’s hiding here somewhere. It’s just a matter of dragging him out. So...why don’t you put down that gun, and we can stop him together.

Oh, so NOW you want to work with us? You ditched us already, quite forcefully might I add.

I know...And I’m sorry for what I did to you. But I meant what I said back there.

I’m not gonna let you stop me from achieving my aims, but I’m not going to fight you over a difference in opinion. I made that mistake with Akamatsu, and I won’t make it again.

I...lost a part of myself from desperation and rage.

...In any other circumstance I would. But this is protocol Kuripa.

*Kuripa suddenly glares at Kyoko.

If we’re supposed to be following protocol, why are you taking orders from your subordinates? You’re supposed to be the leader for god’s sake.

...

Pah! The state of all of you. Makoto’s gone crazy, Komaru’s gone dogmatic, Toko’s gone rebel and YOU’VE gone soft!

You don’t want to do do this, do you?

Not especially. But you know, if you really want to partner up, then letting me turn you in might be a good solution.

If I bring you back, everyone might be more inclined to listen to me. Then we can stop Katagiri, together.

...Fair point...But even so, something tells me that method won’t end well for me. So I politely refuse.

*sigh* Fine...Force it is...

*Kyoko aims her weapon.

???: WAIT! DON’T SHOOT!

!!!??

!!!??

*Both sides are caught off guard when three figures suddenly drop down from above.

Chairwoman! Hold your fire! We can explain!

Kuripa! Go!

What the-!? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE!?

Shuichi, what is going on...!?

I’m sorry ma’am! Kaede insisted and...I trust her!

Kuripa. Whatever you’ve got to do, hurry up and get out of here! We’ll explain things to the Chairwoman!

Explain WHAT!?

JUST GO! NGH...!

Kaede, don’t exert yourself!

!!?

*Kuripa, unable to argue against Kaede’s ferocity, turns tail and escapes into the trees. Kyoko lowers her weapon.

Despite your grievous injuries, caused by the perpetrator behind you, you still show up here. All so you can get in the way?

I’m sorry...I know this is obstruction of justice, but this is important.

I hope you realize that you just defended the man who attacked you in the first place, Kaede Akamatsu!

That’s not true! I attacked FIRST!

...!?

*The revelation catches Kyoko off guard.

Is...that right?

Yes, Mrs Kyoko. Kuripa only attacked us because we stole something that belonged to him. Please, if you would just allow us to explain the situation from the start.

*Kuripa rushes into an opening of trees to get away from the situation, but the night’s theatrics have already worn him out.

Ugh...This crap is getting old, fast.

Kuripa. What happened!?

Rantaro!

*Rantaro suddenly emerges from the trees and greets him.

Ugh...more obstacles have shown up. Now Kaede and Shuichi are here.

Oh boy...Back for a vengeance?

That’s what I thought too, but...they actually protected me.

I don’t know what the everloving fuck is going through that girls head that made her flip the switch on me so fast like that. “Oh, it’s ok that you brutally wounded me! I forgive you, bestie! Now let me protect you!”

That’s not how it works!

Why don’t you just count your blessings before they run out?

Uhh...You might not want to have said that...

Kibin! Hey, you-

Oh...

*Kuripa turns around to see his girlfriend, but looks to see her with her hands raised and a gun pointed to the back of her head. Two of Katagiri’s security guards aim their weapons at her.

Really dude? World-class hitwoman and you get caught by these chumps?

I’ll give them this, they’re good at their jobs.

Security Guard: So...these guys must be the hacker group that’s been targeting Mr Yodogawa, right?

Security Guard: Yeah, that’s right. Look, we don’t well wanna take hostages, but consider this your last warning. Put down your weapons and put your hands up, else she will suffer the consequences.

Ngh...I’m so sick and tired of these confrontations.

It’s alright. Given your luck, someone else is gonna run in and save our skin any moment now.

You really think I’m THAT lucky? You don’t get that chance thrice!

*Kuripa pulls his sword out from behind his back, and tosses it forward onto the ground.

Security Guard: Now get on the-...Hm?

*The security guard suddenly pauses, and raises a finger to his ear as he listens for his comm device.

Security Guard: Hey...did you get that?

Security Guard: Is he serious?

What’s up gentlemen?

Security Guard: Huh...Sorry about this.

!!?

*The guard suddenly clicks his weapon and aims it at Kibin.

Hey, what the fuck! I just dropped my weapon!

Security Guard: Yeah...But that’s the thing...

Security Guard: Mr Yodogawa just put in a word. All trespassers who encroach on this property are to be terminated immediately...So...bye~

!!!??

!!!??

!!!??

*Everyone feels wind get caught in their throat, as a finger rests on the trigger.

Security Guard: Wah!? BEHIND YOU!

Security Guard: Huh!?

HIIIRRYAAAAAGGHH!!

*WHHHHAAAAAAM!*

Security Guard: DAAAAGH! OOPH! AGHCK! GACHK! GAAAGH!

*The security guard aiming his weapon at Kibin goes flying and bounces from tree to tree after being kicked hard in the face.

GRGH!

*CRRACK!*

Security Guard: YAAAAAHAAGH!

*Kibin uses the opportunity, getting behind the other guard and breaking his arm. She then knocks him out immediately afterwards.

Hah...Talk about a complete bother...

BOSS!?

Hah! See! I told you!

Shut up!

Come on, quit the chatter. We’ve got more important things to do.

This park could easily turn into a warzone now that Katagiri’s security are here. Plus, on my way here, I saw a bunch more trucks. They’ve called in backup. 

Damn...This is gonna be a pretty one sided fight with just the three of us.

Not to mention the Symettra Matrix isn’t even ready yet.

I’m pretty sure I can sway Byakuya, Hina and the others to our side. Let US take care of the incoming enemies.

You’ve got more important things to do.

...

Heh...Looks like I owe you yet again...

Whatever...we can talk later. Just go!

Right! Come on squad, let’s roll out!

[potteresque-ire]

Hiya! I've only just started watching Chinese dramas and the drama behind the drama is already blowing my Western mind. Thanks for your meta btw! I was thinking about what you said about Chinese government not explicitly banning anything, rather people had BETTER catch on to what they mean 😨 Is it possible that delaying OOL is their way of warning future productions to think twice before involving Xiao Zhan, because they want to undermine his popularity? As he is 'too entertaining' 💀

Hiya Anon!! The decision to air a c-drama lies in both the government and the platforms. Once the drama gets the distribution permit from the National Radio and Television Administration (NRTA), it's up to the platforms to schedule the airing date.

The distribution permit for OOL was issued in May 2020, and so the government cleared it for airing a while ago. And so, it is the platforms that are holding the airing date back.

Multiple considerations go into the decision of when to air any drama. Here are some financial considerations I can think of: are there fierce competitors in the same period? It's usual for multiple c-dramas to begin airing on similar dates. The week between 2019/06/23 and 2019/06/30, for example, 9 series began airing—including The Untamed on 2019/06/27. And on that very same date, another prominent, very well-made drama also began its airing—The Longest Day in Chang'An 長安十二時辰). 

And then, has a popular drama of a similar genre been aired right before? If so, it may be wise to push back the airing date a little. Is it exam period or is it summer, with students being on vacation and having more free time to watch TV, chase after their favourite idols and buy merchandises? That’s the golden season for idol dramas! Are the production studios, platforms under pressure to produce a solid profit report to their investors? Better move a series with very bankable stars then ...

Afterwards, there are, of course, political considerations. For those who may be worried about c-ent’s current upheaval, I’d like to emphasise this: the government swooping in and say, or hint, that this and that popular thing displeases its Socialist sensibilities isn’t new. Dangai isn’t the first genre to be soft-banned, for example; before that, there was the ... Imperial Harem infighting genre 宮鬥劇 (sorry for the silly translation, I don’t know what’s the proper name for it!), which was extremely popular at the time of the ban with recent hits such as The Legend of Zhen Huan 後宮甄嬛傳 and Story of Yanxi Palace 延禧攻略. There was the time travel genre 穿越劇 (For example, Scarlet Heart 步步驚心). The state criticism against “sissy” 娘炮 idols also made its former round in 2018. 

And so, while there may not have been precedences where the government targets c-ent’s obsession with “traffic” 流量—a relatively new term that describes the heavy flow of social media posts, of buzz and cash surrounding a beloved something or someone, c-ent has a long history of, and ample experiences with, dealing with their government’s displeasure at something that its audience loves, that is financially lucrative for the industry and most importantly, along that line, something the industry wishes to keep. 

The last point may be worth emphasising: the production studios, the platforms (streaming, social media etc), the marketing companies, the yxh, the companies who employ celebrities as their spokespeople etc etc, all of them desperately want to keep stars like Gg and Dd around. This is especially true with c-ent being in its “bitter cold winter” financially since 2018, with the tightening censorship that means hit dramas, and "top traffic” 頂流 stars, are increasingly more difficult to make or come by. “Top traffic” stars, in particular, are very attractive to the industry because their fans are (far) more willing to spend money, generate the needed buzz on social media to bring in more “passer-by” audience and in turn, more revenue, and more investment, and more endorsements and sponsorships (see: the number of Dd commercials in SDOC4). 

Therefore, as fans and audience, I think it’s safe to assume this: at least on the front of wishing to protect Gg and Dd’s star status, to protect potentially popular dramas and genres such as OOL, these financial interests stand with us. Does this “saving” go against what is safe for these companies? One can say so. It would be safer for the platforms, for example, to air ... um, say, The Best Speeches by President Xi in place of dramas like OOL. The act would likely please the government very much; signal, perhaps, that the platforms have caught on its ultimate dream, with Xi being the One Idol of China. But this decision would also go against the very nature of these companies as for-profit entities, these Capitalist Existence that are traded in stock markets and are driven to make as much money and as quickly as they can.

What, then, is the easiest way to protect traffic stars like Gg and Dd, like Yang Zi 楊紫, the lead actress of OOL who is also very popular and who, reportedly, also has her own rather ... rambunctious corner of fandom? What’s the easiest way to “save” a potentially popular drama like OOL? Saying what is *the* easiest way may be difficult, but I believe I can name one easy way: to simply keep these popular people, these (potentially) popular things out of attention for a while, especially with October 1st (Communist China’s birthday) drawing near and in 2021, the year of the Chinese Communist Party’s Centennial. 

After all, regulations from the Chinese government tend to come in bursts—axes falling left, right and centre for a while and in quick succession, followed by an extended period of silence (and neglect). The wait, therefore, doesn’t have to be long at all. As short as after a few month’s time, certain parts of c-ent may return to what it was like before and these c-ent companies, having had so much experience in working around situations like this, would know when that time comes, when the coast is clear.

Meanwhile, as fans, we wait. Being in i-fandom means our words and actions have relatively little effect, but if we were in China, our best action would, too, likely be similar to the platforms that delay the airing of OOL, except we cross out the the word “popular” and replace it with “beloved”: we keep our beloved people, our beloved things out of attention. We refrain from going around and complaining, no matter how much we wish to watch the show. We refrain from starting fights. We stay out of hot searches. The Chinese government is bureaucratic and corruption is rampant, which means often times, the higher-ups in charge of dropping the axes have little knowledge about who or what their axes are supposed to fall on, and little care if they get it wrong. In such circumstances, the key to survival is to not stick one’s head out; to make sure we don’t offer our neck, and more importantly, our favourite stars’ neck, for the axes to fall on.

It may be difficult sometimes. We’ll hear hisses, from antis, from doubters, from those who simply aren’t familiar with the situation, that will tempt us to put ourselves and our favourite stars out in the open where the axes are raining. Patience and independent thinking are important in times like this, qualities that allows us to stop, excuse ourselves from the virtual crowd and think ~ wait, is what is being said true? 

The government’s attack on “traffic”, for example, together with the soft-ban on Dangai, have led to soft hisses that Gg and Dd are the targets. 

I invite everyone to step back and think a little—are they?

Here’s one small, but important point that may be lost in translation (and lost, too, even in some Chinese discussions where netizens have scrolled through their feeds too quickly): in the state opinion pieces, the term used against “traffic” stars has consistently been “唯流量”, with 流量 = traffic, and 唯 = only. The presence of the character 唯 is crucial: 唯流量 are not simply “traffic”, or popular stars; they are stars with only traffic, with nothing but traffic. No acting skills, no singing or dancing skills, no other demonstrated capabilities beyond getting their fans to vote and comment and buy things for them.

Are Gg and Dd 唯流量?

Here’s Gg:

(For those who may not know: A Dream Like A Dream 如夢之夢 is not just a Chinese language play. A Chinese adjective that has been used to describe it is 殿堂級 ~ “palace hall grade”, ie, it’s a royalty. Trivia: the version in China ends with a cappella with Patient #5 singing about himself, which means Patient #5 can ruin the finale of the 8 hour show if he fails to sing well, and beautifully.)

And here’s Dd: 

I think I can rest my case. My fellow turtles, what do you think? 

Such rumours—that so and so, this and that are the alleged targets—are currently running rampant on Chinese social media, with almost every noteworthy celebrity and media projects etc being named by a few who dislike them. However—or rather, ironically, one may say?—because everyone and everything under the sun has been named, the net effect is not that different from if nothing has been named at all. 

If a similar rumour, if more of such rumours creep onto the shores of i-fandom, therefore, please do not be afraid and remember—these speculations, these noises will most likely fade into obscurity unless the populous Gg+Dd fandom amplify it with their voices, even if theses voices are words of defence.

Silence can be a defence. Silence can be the best defence.

For the time being, with the greater sociopolitical environment being what it is, with “Capital” being reportedly targeted by the state (previously discussed here), platforms and TV stations that are part of Capital may be extra careful and temporarily keep all traffic stars out of their productions, out of sight.

But I remind myself this ~ this isn’t about Gg and Dd. This probably isn’t about 99.9% of the stars who may be temporarily kept out of these productions in the coming weeks, some of whom may have starred in Dangai. As a corollary, I find it important to remind myself that too, to think twice before wondering aloud who may be the targets, to make sure I do not, even accidentally, put any non Gg Dd star and their fans under the axes—not because my words can influence the Chinese government, but rather, because of a simple, almost cliché reason: Do not do unto others what you do not want others do unto you.   

After all, one step outside fandom, people cannot tell one idol from another, cannot tell one drama from another, cannot tell cpfs from solos ...

As fans of c-ent, we’re in this together. ❤️💛💚

[jeongvision]

Can I request a Kun parent!au with the prompt “I’m still in love with you.” JSBXJDBDJX thank you in advance also don’t worry about trying not to disappoint readers- write it however you please, I love your writing so I’ll like it anyways

pairing. ex-husband! qian kun ✗ teacher! fem! reader

genre. angst, parent au, non idol au

warnings. mentions of divorce, slight cursing, not proofread but wbk

author’s note. bubs you are going to make me cry you’re too sweet to me omg thank you thank you thank you [insert ugly crying face here] hope you enjoy this blurb! this was a little difficult to do lol

It’s normal routine for you every weekday: wake up, get ready, prepare lunch meals, wake up your daughter, get her ready, and you two take off to school. You were lucky to have your daughter, Jia, assigned to your classroom so it placed less of a burden on your part in ensuring her well-being is in good hands. Not that you don’t trust your co-workers but just seeing her smiling and giggling all over in class put your heart at ease.

You two currently stood behind your desk, your figure crouched down to her height as your hands working in dressing Jia up in layers and bundles to protect her from the harsh winds outside. All your students have left to their buses whereas you two stayed behind to depart in your own vehicle.

However, it’s Friday, and for the next couple of days, she won’t be staying by your side until Sunday night. Instead, she’ll be staying at someone else’s place for the time being.

After zipping up her coat, you look back to your daughter’s face and smiled. You tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “Ready to go see daddy, Jia?”

Your daughter flashes you with her signature gummy smile. “Yes, mommy!”

Grinning, you stood back up and grabbed your belongings. With your hand grasping onto her own, you two walked out of your classroom and made your way down to the main office. Most of the teachers have clocked out with a few staying behind to clean up or prepare for the next school day. Other than those staff members, it’s mostly individuals that are on janitorial duty that are present.

As you finally arrived at the main office, you and Jia decided to take a seat while waiting for her father. She swings her legs in her seat, her feet up in the air due to her small stature. You took the time to grab your phone out and browse through your notifications, fingers swiping and tapping away on your screen.

“Mommy?” Jia called.

“Hm?” You looked away from your screen down to your little one where she looks up to you with beady eyes. Every time, without fail, you would always see a certain type of innocence to her eyes, too pure for the unpredictable world you both lived in, something you hoped she’ll always have as she continues to grow older with each passing day.

You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as it falls onto her frame. “What is it, baby?” Your fingers ghost besides her cheek, prompting her to lean her cheeks into your warm hand. There’s a slight pout on her lips.

“Do you not love daddy anymore?”

Your body stilled at her question, blood running cold. You knew that eventually this day would come, where your child gathers the utmost courage to ask you about a sensitive topic. She probably knew how touchy the subject was, given how it’s been over six months since you both adopted the current arrangement: weekdays at your place with weekends being solely at her father’s place.

You smiled, not a centimeter of it reaching to your eyes. “I never said that, baby,” you responded. “Why? Did your friends in class say anything about it?” You were worried that with your daughter growing up with divorced parents, her peers would tease her for being ‘parentless’ and such. That’s why you kept a close eye on her in class, making sure she doesn’t have to deal with such troublesome matters.

She shook her no. “No, but mommy, everyone talks about doing things with their mommy and daddy..” She looks down to her fiddling fingers, her body oozing with caution as she approaches further into the topic. “... and they always talk about how their mommy and daddy love each other.”

Your heart aches at every word she lets out. It’s hard, to give her the childhood you always wished for your child. You tried your best to show her that she is loved, regardless of the marital status of her parents, and that is all that mattered. But of course, you should’ve known that there will always be an ounce of doubt somewhere along the road.

You gulped, desperately trying to calm your uneasy heart. “Jia, baby..”

She looks back up to you.

You smiled solemnly. “I can’t say that your father and I will get back together again—” you enveloped her into a hug “—but I can promise you that I still love your father.”

She reciprocates your hug, her little arms stretching as far as they can around your torso. As you two pulled away, you could see through the glass windows a familiar car pull up by the sidewalk.

Her father is here.

You stood up from your seat. “Let’s go, baby. Daddy is here.” Her facial expression brightens at the mention of her father, hopping off her chair with excitement. She giggles and skips in her steps as you two walked out of the school building hand-in-hand. You stopped halfway to crouch down to Jia again, hands cupping her plump cheeks.

“Have fun at daddy’s house, okay?” you said. “And be good. Don’t make me get a phone call from him saying you did something bad.” You jokingly give her a narrowed look, Jia giggling from your funny expression.

“I will, mommy!”

Satisfied with her answer, you stand back up as her father gets out of his driver’s seat and walks around to see you and Jia.

He grins. “Jia!” he calls out.

She jumps gleefully besides you. “Daddy!”

She runs over to her father where he crouches down to her height with his arms wide open. She collides to his chest, earning a grunt from the latter at the sudden impact. They both share a laugh, making you fondly smile. He stands back up and opens the door to the back seat, buckling her up in her booster seat reserved only for his princess. Once finished, he gently closes the door and turns to face you. You both smiled awkwardly at each other, still a considerate amount of distance separating the two of you.

“Y/n,” he acknowledged.

You nodded. “Kun.”

For what felt like hours, you both said nothing to one another. The only thing you two could hear as you stare into each other’s orbs are the sound of passing cars and birds chirping in their homes. Gulping down his fears, he walks towards you, each step marking their way over to where his world stands. He stops just a few steps away, too afraid to cross the line you mentally drew around yourself.

He chuckles nervously. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you nodded. “You?”

“Likewise.”

The silence is deafening, suffocating almost. It’s been so long that you have last seen him so up close and it reminded you all over again on why you fell in love with him in the first place. You missed the time spent together with him, all the hours by his side that made you the person you are today. You don’t regret meeting him at all, but you can’t deny that what you missed the most is him, and solely him.

“I’m still in love with you, y/n,” he murmured.

Your breath hitches in your throat, suppressing the sob that approaches before you. Masking the tremor he placed on you heart, a dry chuckle escapes past your lips.

“I know,” you whispered. Not sparing him a chance to respond back, you nod towards his car. “Your daughter is waiting for you in the car.”

The words he wanted to let out rests on the tip of his tongue, failing to take off when you looked back at him with such dejection. And so, the least he could do is heed to your wish, something he wasn’t able to do years ago. He walks back to his car where Jia awaits, away from where the love of his life resides. As he drives off into the distance, the dam that held all your emotions at bay finally releases, a wave of turbulent emotions taking over your body, shaking you to the core. Out in the cold, the damn breaks and you let the tears cascade down your cheeks, despair cloaking your entire existence. It hurts, really, knowing that your lover will never be free from his arranged marriage. Forever will be remained shackled to his parents and casted in the dungeon to act as their puppeteer.

He stayed locked up in his cage just so you could fly free, out in the world beyond where the sun shines upon the meadows and bring life to all, but darling, how could you fly freely when your wings are left behind?

jeongvision’s milestone event!

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

When it all falls down

Hi guys! I was meant to post this earlier but life happens :(

I have so many fic ideas but not enough time to write & post them. The completion of this fic will be my priority tho!

(Edit) previously named ‘Life as a pawn within the Devil’s deal’

Ao3

Story Masterlist

—————————————————

CHAPTER THREE: Buried alive

Warnings: injuries, sexism, pre-panic attack symptoms, torture (not explicit) and mentions of child birth (and death caused from it), forced pregnancy & imprisonment.

The haunting voice of the king cut through the foreboding silence that coated the room. It bounced off of the decrepit stone pillars, and the ceiling crumpled under the reverberation.

Lady Talia dragged her towards the throne, her body screaming to get far away from this man. Marinette was pushed forward, forced to kneel before ‘her King’. His throne was made out of a rusted iron and withered thorns peaked through its cracks. The king, although hidden from the world, was adorned in every finery known to man. A deep emerald green tunic and pants were joined by a solid gold belt. Gemstones lined the clasps of his cape, connected by three gold chains of differing lengths. The crown that graced his salt & pepper coloured hair consisted of polished obsidian jewels embedded into the golden spires.

Mari’s eyebrows furrowed. She was taught that each of the royal family were only garbed in opals & obsidian (as they were the family’s signature gems) plus their birth jewel. But his majesty seemed to be wearing more jewels then she could name, none seemed more important than the rest.

“So this is the one you chose as Damian’s promised?” He glared down at her. The girl kneeling before him had nothing special about her in appearance other than expensive clothing. What enraged him was that she kept her head high, but her eyes never met his, they were locked on the wall behind him. His frown deepened, his wrinkled skin pulled and folded; suggesting that a frown was a popular expression he wore. “She doesn’t look like much.” His toxic green eyes shifted to his daughter, “Are you sure you got the correct girl?”

“Yes father I have not failed you. This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, future head of the Miraculous Order. She is their best warrior and will be an asset to the continuation of our bloodline.”

The Mistress’ nails dug into the girl’s shoulder, the pinpricking pain caused her to grimace. She stifled any thought of correcting the hag. It had been years since she took guardian ship of the Order, or in their terms; that she actually the current head. Some of her friends even had dubbed her as their ‘princess’ and that spread around the camp like a wildfire.

His burning gaze scanned every inch of her face before his eyes traveled down her body. Under his stare she felt violated, his contempt and lechery felt like hands running over her skin. “Her only duty is to produce strong heirs, don’t let her be deluded into becoming a hero.”

He waited for either woman to challenge him, it would be a fruitless venture but some still tried. If only his wife had produced a suitable heir, but Melisande had given him a daughter instead. That wretched woman had died during Talia’s birth, escaping her duty of giving him a son. As he reminisced on her, he was only plagued by the thought of how he could have married someone so weak.

He refused to marry again after her, he didn’t want his legacy to be tainted further. And although his daughter was born from weakness she had redeemed herself by birthing a son. Her spouse, Lord Wayne, wouldn’t have been his first pick, but their affair bore a strong prince. His daughter learnt from her mother’s failures and (under his guidance) had become one of his few trusted associates.

“Well?” He boomed, Marinette flinched away. Another sign of weakness. He raised an eyebrow at her, enticing her to comment. “What do you have to say about all this?”

‘What do I have to say?’ She repeated, this surely was a trap, a test. One wrong word and she would be done for. She wanted to scream that she was a warrior not an incubator, and yell at him for deceiving the world.

But she didn’t. Damian’s words from earlier that morning caused her to metaphorically bleed like an open wound.

Her eyes met his, and she is reminded of Damian’s eyes, a stunning evergreen forest comes to mind. But Ra’s eyes weren’t like Damian’s or even Talia’s, his eyes held so much scorn that made them worse then toxic. His eyes held a nuclear explosion behind them and memories of the suffering that came after.

“If the last empire failed,” She paused, taking a breath to conceal her malice. “Why do you think your’s won’t?”

“Because whilst the previous empire thought they were immortal—“ he leaned forward, his face inches away from hers. “I know I am.”

‘Is that how he lived? That is to say if he died in the first place.’ Her body subconsciously moved away but Talia held her in place, his breath was hot and suffocating. She sent a silent prayer to Damian that she was sorry, but the only way she could hold her tongue was if she stitched her lips shut.

-x-

A figure stumbled into the young couple’s room, leaning against the now closed door gasping for breath. Their entry was preceded by rushed footsteps and proceeded by the slam of the dark oak door. Damian watched from the smaller room, the expanse of the appartments was coated by darkness. The shadowed individual walked closer to the lit lantern sat atop the bedside table. The flickering incandescent, cast an orange light upon the person, revealing Damian’s first assumption; his bride, Marinette.

A sob escaped her quivering lips, and the prince noticed her gleaming tears creating trails down her pale cheeks. She collapsed on her bed, crying. He internally debated about whether to invade her space when she was in such a vulnerable state or give her the illusion of privacy.

Looking down at his hands, he remembered the grit of dried blood that once collected underneath his nails. His childhood (if you could call it that) was one of bloodshed and pain. The room looked bigger now and his breathing became infrequent. The bassinet by the window was stripped bare and now became a microcosm of the imprisonment and restriction he faced within the palace walls.

Hands clenched tightly into fists, his nails tempting with the idea of breaking the skin of his palms. He desperately grasped an invisible rope, willing it to ground him. Tremors shook Damian’s body as her cries returned to muffled sobs. ‘Grandfather would be disgusted,’ when had he become so weak?

She had cast a spell over him, projected her despair onto him. What was she crying about anyways? Being sad was being feeble, and being feeble lead to disloyalty.

He stood up, the internal debate was over, all the mental diplomats were slaughtered by the strongest; pride. Rubbing his eyes he broke out of her theurgy. He walked to the bedside, picking up a blanket along the way. When he reached her, body still racking whilst she blubbered, he wrapped the large grey blanket around her shoulders.

Marinette flinched on contact. A cloud could touch her and she still would’ve shied away. Her hair was a mess and stuck to her sweat coated skin. Craning her neck she looked up at her offender, only to find her groom.

Damian’s eyes. They were so similar to... His Highness’s eyes were the last this she saw before the pain penetrated her skull. Her throat was rubbed raw from her screaming which had melted into cries. Is she not even safe in the place she was meant to sleep?

“Take this as a warning—“ pain all she felt was pain, her ears rung from the sound of flesh beating flesh. “Next time you’ll know not to question things above your position.”

CRACK

She screamed.

Damian scanned her face, her eyes were puffy and red. But that wasn’t it. Her left lid looked darker than it should and her bottom lip was busted.

“Who did this to you.” He struggled to keep his tone neutral as she stared into his wide eyes. His mothers statement from several years ago flashed into his mind, “Her position is determined by this marriage Damian, and through you, the Order has a secure future. This union gives us more power and provides them with protection.”

Protection. What use was this marriage if it couldn’t supply the one thing her kin wanted for her; safety.

He looked down upon her beaten face, her skin was tender as blackish-blue bruises waged war. All of a sudden it didn’t matter who committed this atrocity, nor did his thirst for revenge. A pit formed deep within his chest, he had a feeling he knew the answer to his own question.

He turned, rushing over to the closet, Marinette’s arm burned at the removal of his hand. She tilted her head, wiping her eyes as she peered over, watching what he was doing. He had grabbed multiple sets of dark clothes before hastily walking into the bathroom, he returned with the empty linen laundry hamper.

He stuff the items into the hamper before turning back to her, the prince looked almost frantic. He marched back up to her, kneeling, he held her hand between his. Locking eyes with her, her jaggedly cut hair falling similar to that of a curtain as she tilted her head down.

“We have to leave.”

“What?” As if it was a reflex she responded before she could process what he said. ‘Leave?’ This was his home, his kingdom. Why would he want to leave. Her head hung as self-deprecating comments caused her to spiral, ‘I have caused him so much trouble that he feels the need to leave, so that he’s legacy isn’t disgraced further.’

“I cannot ask you to do that.” All of the snark and jest was torn from her leaving her as a husk. “Please,” Her hoarse voice cracked. “I do not wish to cause any more havoc.”

“And I cannot allow for anyone to harm you,” he paused, her eyes shimmered underneath the glow of the lantern light. “You are my wife.”

She softly smiled at the acknowledgment of their status, he had never called her anything other than her name. The ‘my wife’ comment didn’t mean much due to the nature of their arrangement but it still meant something, no matter how minuscule.

“We can’t leave, bad things will happen if we do.”

"There is never going to be a perfect answer." He squeezed her hand, an act of reassurance to give her some form of comfort. “Sometimes the choices we must make have cons alongside their pros."

Taglist:

@thesunniestdays @jayjayspixiepop @toodaloo-kangaroo

[robininthelabyrinth]

Good Help - chapter 3 - ao3 link

-

Everyone was required to come to the Nightless City to pay homage to the Emperor, no matter their status, and any number of sects had chosen to pay another visit during the Emperor’s absence – whether in search of profit or merely credit for fulfilling their duties, preferably without the risk of incurring their volatile Emperor’s attention.

One of those sects was Lanling Jin.

Meng Yao felt both disappointment and relief when he learned that Jin Guangshan would not be coming himself, declining on the grounds that it was just too miserable to go without his good friend the Emperor there, though it was far more likely that he didn’t want to have to acknowledge the presence of Meng Yao, standing there in the Emperor’s place. Instead, his father sent his one legitimate son and heir, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Zixuan brought his wives.

The rumors of friendship between Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan were exaggerated for effect, in Meng Yao’s opinion, but there must be some basis to it. Otherwise, there was no way Jin Zixuan would have been allowed to hold such a treasure in his hands: he had married the last survivors of the Jiang clan, Jiang Yanli and her younger brother Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Yanli, at least, was considered a prize, given that she brought with her the bloodline and legitimacy of a former Great Sect and had at least a technical claim to a frankly eye-popping dowry, should the Emperor ever decide to allow her to reclaim the ownership of the Lotus Pier, even if in practice the place had been rapidly converted into a pleasure palace by his second son.

Jin Zixuan had managed to win that race, having had the advantage of being already engaged to Jiang Yanli since birth, his mother having apparently been friends with the former Madame Jiang, known better as Madame Yu. Given Jin Zixuan’s character – not known to be especially good at either politics or finance – Meng Yao was of the belief, as were many people, that he had only taken Jiang Cheng as a bride in order to please his wife by saving the life of her younger brother after the Jiang sect was destroyed, since Jiang Cheng, the son of a fallen clan, represented little more than a gigantic target on the back of anyone who might claim him.

Of course, rather than admit it, Jin Zixuan denied all such rumors and maintained consistently that he had been in love with both of them, desperately, and that had been the reason he’d petitioned for the right of marriage.

(Meng Yao also heard rumors that Wen Ruohan had found his insistence funny and agreed to the match on the condition that their marriage bed be witnessed, which sounded very much in line with what he knew of Wen Ruohan’s character – he would have enjoyed forcing them to consummate their fake marriage, luxuriated in their humiliation, and laughed when they failed to look each other in the eye later. Still, what wasn’t worth doing to preserve a life?)

At any rate, regardless of anything else, Jin Zixuan was still the Emperor’s subject, and therefore he had to come pay homage the same as anyone else. Meng Yao’s brother by blood (although frustratingly not by law) had trouble looking directly at Meng Yao during the ceremony, but he managed to conduct the ritual of swearing loyalty moderately well regardless, with no indications of disrespect and perfect etiquette. It was only after, when Meng Yao had maliciously invited him to share a cup of tea to extend the duration of the awkwardness, that something broke – and it wasn’t Jin Zixuan at all.

“Is it true?” Jiang Cheng asked abruptly, the first words he’d said in this visit, and Meng Yao turned to look at him even as Jin Zixuan’s face turned pale. “That the Emperor started fucking Huaisang?”

Huaisang, Meng Yao thought, rolling the name around in his mouth – was A-Sang originally a Jiang, then?

But no, if he was, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have that look of desperation on his face, of longing and despair; whoever this Huaisang had been in his previous life, before he’d become an Imperial Consort, he’d been someone that Jiang Cheng had been close to. Maybe someone he had even lost his heart to.

Interesting.

Or, well – interesting, but ultimately irrelevant.

“I have no insight into the Emperor’s personal affairs,” Meng Yao said, calm and placid as ever. “Especially while he is far away on a long voyage.”

Jiang Cheng scowled at him, but his sister put her hand on his shoulder and he subsided, still looking upset.

Meng Yao decided to show pity as a stratagem to put Jin Zixuan into his debt, and said, affecting a tone of mild sympathy, “I have no reason to think that he is based on his conduct before leaving, and I understand that his travels were motivated by a search for a spiritual item capable of improving cultivation. It may be that he took Imperial Consort A-Sang with him on account of the Consort’s reputed scholarly achievements.”

To the extent A-Sang had any scholarly achievements other than carting around a scholar’s fan, anyway.

Jiang Cheng still scowled, but his shoulders relaxed a little, and Jiang Yanli sent Meng Yao a grateful look.

Jin Zixuan seemed only a little moved, picking up his tea cup and continuing the former conversation without a hitch, but when everything was done he unexpectedly reached out and caught Meng Yao’s arm.

Meng Yao tensed, but Jin Zixuan took no movement against him, only looked at him. “It was an unexpected pleasure to meet you,” he said, nothing he couldn’t have said without touching, but then his hand shifted and Meng Yao felt the prickle of paper beneath his palm.

Meng Yao put a smile on his face and said some pleasantries, and as soon as Jin Zixuan left he looked at the note he’d been smuggled.

You are being targeted, it said, which – was rather unhelpful, actually.

“He couldn’t have included more details of who, what, or when?” Meng Yao complained to A-Jue later, making sure to look piteous out of habit even though he knew A-Jue didn’t believe him at all. Or at least, he shouldn’t by this point, or else Meng Yao’s lessons on how to detect a liar were all going to waste. “I don’t know if it’s because it’s me that he didn’t want to commit to saying too much, there is that awkwardness there, but it’s not like I don’t know people are trying to kill me. I’m the Emperor’s viceroy! I’ve been making changes left and right in his absence, some of them extremely unpopular –”

And yet others that were extremely popular. He’d known the Watchtower idea would win him acclaim among the common people, and that even if the smaller sects complained about the encroachment at first they would soon – or at least, eventually – realize that it was in their own best interest.

“ – and really. He left a note! Why be ominous and vague in a note?”

“Perhaps he meant something more general,” A-Jue said.

Meng Yao looked at him, and A-Jue shrugged, averting his eyes. The action – so obviously indicating that he had something to say and wasn’t saying it for whatever reason – should have irritated Meng Yao, but by now he’d grown to find A-Jue’s thorough inability to dissemble directly rather adorable. Such a big man, older than Meng Yao, and he still blushed when he tried to lie to your face.

“You can go on,” Meng Yao coaxed. “I’m not going to be angry.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m five.”

“Who’s a big boy who knows something he’s not saying? You are, yes, you are!”

A-Jue tried to look disapproving but ended up having to hide his sniggering into his sleeve. “That’s more like you’d treat a dog, viceroy Meng. Not that you’d know, given how much you hate them.”

“I don’t hate dogs,” Meng Yao said. “I gave Jin Zixuan’s eldest a spiritual dog just last year, a husky. It’s gigantic man-eaters I object to.”

“Northern mountain dogs are a bit large,” A-Jue conceded, a little reluctantly, but in fairness at his size the mountain dogs were probably proportional in size to regular dogs. Actually, A-Jue’s accent, however blurred by time and assimilation, suggested he was from somewhere to north of the Nightless City – maybe he’d drunk the same water as the dogs growing up, explaining how he reached his current heights. “And aren’t you the one who’s always saying that you only keep things from people that they don’t need to know?”

“I like being the person to decide who needs to know what,” Meng Yao said. “Now, you clearly want to tell me, so tell me already.”

A-Jue sighed. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the job is supposed to kill you?”

Meng Yao frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the Emperor’s viceroy,” A-Jue said. “He appointed you, and then he immediately left you alone to more or less run the entirety of his domain – he gave you the power of authority, to speak with his voice. That’s a pretty big promotion from chief torturer, wouldn’t you say?”

Meng Yao would not describe being the deputy in charge of the Fire Palace as ‘chief torturer’ – prisons required a great deal of management, he wasn’t just torturing people anymore – but he couldn’t exactly say that A-Jue was wrong.

He’d enjoyed his success, but he’d been startled by it, too. He’d had to fight and scheme for every last thing that he’d ever wanted, before this, and while he’d had to do more than a bit of tussling to keep this role over the overtures of the other deputies, it did sometimes feel as though this promotion came a little too easily, too suddenly.

“What do you think, then?” he asked, folding his hands together under his sleeves so no one could see how his nails dug into his flesh. If there was one thing he truly hated, it was the scorn of others, of those who thought they were better than him.

Being schemed against was a very close second.

“Some of your policies are in fact very unpopular,” A-Jue said. “Even though we both know that they’re necessary…the Emperor would know that they were necessary, too.”

“You think he wants me as what? A scapegoat?”

Wen Ruohan didn’t pay attention to things like popularity, officially taking the position that strength was all that mattered, and yet only a fool ignored such things entirely, and Wen Ruohan was no fool.

“The Emperor is friends with Jin Guangshan,” A-Jue said quietly. “Not merely for show, and although Jin Guangshan does exaggerate it somewhat, it’s not as much as people think. Before he became Emperor, back when they were peers, they would often spend time together, do things together…and your existence offends Jin Guangshan. People laugh at him for not having accepted you back then.”

That was as Meng Yao wanted. He’d wanted to rub into his father’s face how stupid he’d been – and Jin Guangshan had done nothing, had just taken it, and in retrospect that seemed rather uncharacteristic of someone of his reputation.

“So, what?” he asked, ignoring the blood on his nails from where his flesh could no longer take the pressure. “You think he’s pressing the Emperor to have me executed for failing to live up to his expectations?”

“Maybe,” A-Jue said. “And perhaps the Emperor has incentivized others to try to make you fail.”

Having people try to kill a stand-in would be a very effective way to see how those same people would try to kill you. It wasn’t a bad plan, not really, but Meng Yao really didn’t appreciate it when it was aimed at him.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Meng Yao said. “I will not fail. I will succeed, and so thoroughly that even the Emperor will be unable to deny my success – he enjoys being thought of as someone who rewards merit, and killing me would just be seen as petty. He won’t do it. I have my brain, my talent, my competence – I won’t let him.”

Assuming, of course, that he survived until Wen Ruohan’s return.

“You have me, too,” A-Jue said.

It was a nice sentiment, Meng Yao thought, and patted A-Jue on the shoulder, and A-Jue didn’t even flinch this time. He didn’t expect that A-Jue really meant it, of course – A-Jue was a guard of the inner hall, and to get that sort of position he had to be loyal to Wen Ruohan first and foremost – but it was nice of him to say it regardless.

Meng Yao wondered, briefly, if now was a good time to let his hand linger on A-Jue’s shoulder, to turn the contact into a caress. He didn’t think he’d even need to order A-Jue to his bed at this point, although he’d be more than willing to do so if A-Jue liked things like that – he was moderately sure that A-Jue sincerely liked him, and that there was more to that liking than mere friendliness or even the stirrings of loyalty. If he asked, or even just indicated interest, A-Jue would probably come to him entirely of his own volition.

And yet…

Meng Yao removed his hand, turning the conversation forcefully to some other subject, much to A-Jue’s evident relief. He was too busy, he told himself. There was no time to spend on dalliances.

And anyway –

He’d had his fill of sharing with Wen Ruohan.

[akashicmuses]

WTF is Yoshiya’s Deal (SPARK NOTES)

This Yoshiya Kiryu was born in 1988 and never really got to know either of his parents.

You see, in Japan, it’s perfectly legal to send your kid to an orphanage without actually giving up custody of the kid. It’s not unheard of for parents to leave their child under the care of an orphanage with no intention of ever returning for them, and yet are unwilling to deal with the concept of having to let their child be rasied by someone else.

When Yoshiya first started seeing the UG at a very young age, his parents picked up right away that there was something… more going on with him. Normal “imaginary friends” didn’t leave children crying and not wanting to go outside. They suspected that there was something wrong with Yoshiya.

They were unwilling to raise a child who wasn’t perfect, but did not want to give up their status as ‘parents’. They ended up taking Yoshiya to an orphanage and leaving him there without signing the consent form that would allow him to be adopted.

Yoshiya has not seen his parents since he was around 8 and a half.

The orphanage he was left at was run by @sinveins​’s Angel OC, Irit. Irit is a mesharethim of the song-uttering choirs, he is a servant/minister of other Angels and whoever else it’s decided he will spend time serving. Dalit was in the lower planes doing ‘earthly works.’

Yoshiya bonded fiercely to Irit, seeing the man as a substitute parental figure. Irit also took an interest in Yoshiya for the extraordinary amounts of Imagination the boy possessed. He grew fond of Yoshiya in return.

However, all was not well with Shibuya. The current Composer was plagued with paranoia. They had forays into separate dimensions and seen the consistant thread of time… In nearly every single time, they were erased and replaced by Yoshiya Kiryu. This Composer wanted to stop that from happening.

And so, the Composer approached Yoshiya one day when he was playing on his own and simply… pushed a ball Yoshiya was playing with into the street with their powers. Yoshiya chased after the ball and was struck by a truck the Composer had known was coming.

The Composer had intended to scatter Yoshiya’s Soul immediately but came to find that Yoshiya had rapidly gained awareness in the UG. Yoshiya was extremely frightened and lashed out with a psych on instinct.

Normally, a Player couldn’t dream of inflicting damage on a Composer, especially one so recently deceased. HOWEVER, Yoshiya has prodigious levels of Imagination and was able to damage him.

The two ended up getting into a fight, which Yoshiya ended up winning.

Yoshiya Kiryu became Shibuya’s Composer in the year 2000, at age 12. The Higher Plane did not step in, despite Irit pleading for him. They thought it would be an interesting experiement on a dimension that ‘mattered little.’

Yoshiya, obviously, did not do a good job at running a city, in spite of his powers. It was only a year later that Shibuya fell into such disrepair that an Executor (another Kubo, not the same one in NEO) was called down to purify it. 

Irit, who had grown rebellious over this past year, committed an act of defiance in choosing to save Yoshiya from purification by casting his Soul into the Dream Plane.

The Dream Plane functions as a special plane that allows subtle refinement of Imagination via allowing people to process their experiences. I can explain more of this on another post.

The Higher Plane…decided to allow this because they were curious to know if a being could survive existing in a Plane like that. They were also interested in Yoshiya’s Imagination, what with him being essentially a walking bomb who can kill Composers at such a young age. They thought that having him refine his Imagination in the Dream Plane might yield Them a potential weapon, especially if he grew desperate to connect to Them due to the intense loneliness of being alone on the Dream Plane.

Irit learned of this through his connection to the Hivemind and became enraged that his attempt to save Yoshiya had been twisted. His opposition to it became so intense that the Higher Plane saw fit to… essentially recycle him. He was heavily reprogrammed and most of his memories and emotions were wiped clean. This Irit was then selected to watch over Yoshiya in the Dream Plane and ensure that nothing befell him that would interfere with Their plan.

Yoshiya never found out that Irit was hard reset. The next time Yoshiya saw him, Irit was an emotionless husk who only seemed to be present out of obligation. He looked at him as if he was a stranger.

Yoshiya couldn’t understand why Irit acted like this and assumed that he might be upset about how he had failed as a Composer. He began to believe that being sent into the Dream Plane had been a punishment instead of a desperate effort to save him. After all, he could now only interact with others when they were asleep, or with a puppet that looked like someone who cared about him.

Yoshiya began to believe, as he traveled from dream to dream, that he had been to blame. That he wasn’t enough like the other versions of him he would meet sometimes. He wasn’t enough of a Joshua. That had been why Shibuya had fallen. That was why the Higher Plane had left him in this place.

He just… had to learn how to be more like the person he was supposed to be, right?