#edit - hey wait this sounds wrong because i was being too vague again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years ago

Text

Just Ask

Prompts: Hey… So, I was wondering if you could write a fic where one of the sides are dyslexic? Since that usually just ends as "Oh, I can't read, oh no!" and not like the actual neurodiversity it is. Yes, I admit, I want to relate to one too, but… Well. It'd be awesome if you would, but if that's too tall an order or too specific that's fine too. If you do, though, maybe college AU with roceit? -anon

Hi you're amazing! I love your writing and brand of writing and just I've read a lot of your stories and I love them all kskejejwuwugfhsv-

I was wondering, if you take requests, that maybe you could write a human AU with fake dating Roceit? With confident fat Janus because we need that! Or not, that's your choice!

(I sound like some snob asking for a highly specific coffee shi-) - anon

oh babe y'all wanted to be FED huh

Read on Ao3

Warnings: slight ableist/fatphobic language

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2487

Sometimes, you can get all of your work done in the library. Sometimes, people are ableists.

And sometimes there's something wonderful in finding out there's someone there for you as well.

Roman scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Between waiting ages at the printer or absolutely destroying his retinas by staring at a screen for hours on end, he isn’t unhappy with making the choice to save the environment by using less paper but god.

“At least this pdf was convertible,” he mutters, scrolling down to see how many pages he has left. The last four weren’t and reading without the right font is a fucking pain in the ass.

Seven pages left. Great.

Roman focuses on the screen and starts to mutter under his breath again. Focus on the word, figure it out, make the sentence, move on. Pause to take notes, make sure it’s legible to read later, and repeat.

A computer and heavy bag thuds onto the table next to him and he jumps, almost knocking his coffee over. He looks up, glaring at the person who stares down their nose at him like he’s some sort of stain. Rude.

“You’ve been here for like, three hours, dude,” they say, like that’s supposed to justify their behavior, “move. I need this spot.”

Roman looks around. There’s like, four more tables open. “Can’t you just go sit somewhere else?”

“No! This is my spot! You can go sit somewhere else.”

“Well,” Roman mutters, glaring at his screen again, “I was here first. So you can either wait until I’m done or sit down.”

“Dude, I swear—“

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth voice that has no business being this polished in the fucking library, “is this person bothering you, sweetie?”

Roman turns around and his mouth drops open.

“J-Janus?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and glaring at the dick with the heavy bag. Who, as a matter of fact, seems to be muttering and stuffing shit back into said bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Janus drawls, still sounding way too confident and way too much like he knows what’s going on, “got held up after class.”

“Uh, no problem,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to see the asshole is still standing there, “just, um…working.”

“Ah, well then, you won’t mind if I join you.” And with that, Janus sits down with a flourish, propping his chin up on his hand and fixing the asshole with an impressive look of disgust. “And you…you can leave.”

“Look, buddy—“

“My partner and I have work to do,” Janus says, swiftly cutting them off and making sure Roman has no idea what’s going on, “now leave.”

Roman’s really glad there was no ambiguity that Janus could’ve been talking to him, because he’s about ready to bolt. Only when the asshole has retreated does Janus turn his gaze to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his gloves, “he seemed like he was bothering you. Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m, uh—“ Janus raises an eyebrow as Roman stumbles over his words— “sorry. Uh, thanks?”

Janus chuckles. “Oh, no worries, sweetie. I was happy to do it. Although…”

Janus squints at him and Roman fights the urge to squirm under that gaze.

“You’re in my seminar class, aren’t you?” Roman nods. “The one that let out three hours ago?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Have you…been here since then?”

Roman nods, trying to get back to work and, you know, maybe get out of here, only for Janus to reach across the table and still his hands as he goes to pick up the pen again.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“Eaten,” Janus says slowly, mouth stretching into a smile, “lunch, sweetie.”

“Uh—“ no, is the correct answer— “I was going to?”

Janus just gives him a look.

“…no.”

“Mm.” Janus glances at his computer and notebook. “You’re not by any chance attempting to read all of the assignments in one go, are you?”

Roman’s guilty flush seems to answer that question for him. Janus sighs and it’s such an odd mixture of disappointment and fondness Roman hasn’t earned that his brain spits out the only question he actually wants an answer to.

“Why are you here?”

Janus chuckles. “In the library, at this school, or are we already to the point of questioning the very nature of existence?”

Roman just blinks at him.

“Oh, relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.” Janus glances off in the vague direction the asshole wandered off to. He leans a little closer. “I know how…difficult it can be to try and do work when they bother you.”

Roman’s cheeks flush. “Oh, uh…thanks, then.”

Janus waves a hand. “It’s none of their business why you’re doing so much work at once. Even if it does make you skip lunch,” he adds with such a pointed look that Roman can’t help splutter.

“I was going to! And you’re not my mother!”

“No,” Janus purrs, “but like any good partner, I like to make sure my sweetie takes care of themselves.”

Roman does not squeak, despite Janus’s chuckles, but he does start to fiddle with his pen. “I can’t…stop yet.”

“Why ever not?”

“Can you stop,” Roman blurts, scrubbing his hands over his blushing face, “please? For like, two seconds?”

“Sorry, you’re just adorable.”

“Stop, dude, seriously, if you want an actual answer to the question?”

“I’m done,” Janus chuckles, “I’m done, sorry.”

Roman takes a deep breath. He fiddles with the pen. “It’s just—with my dyslexia, it takes a while to…find the, um…”

“Zone?”

“…sure.”

Janus hums in understanding. Then he reaches into his own bag and pulls out a book of his own. “Then we may as well work together until you’re finished.”

Roman blinks. Hi, hello, brain is confused, what just happened in the last five minutes?

Janus waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Sweetie? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just—trying to process what happened.” Roman blinks again. “Because it seems like some asshole tried to take my seat, you came up and pretended to be my partner to scare them away, proceeded to badger me about taking care of myself, and now you’re…still here?”

Janus nods. “That’s how I experienced it too, that’s correct.”

“…so now what’re we doing?”

“Well, I’m also going to try and get some work done, you’re going to finish your work, and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“And what about the dude that now thinks we’re partners?”

Janus looks at him and shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”

Roman blinks again. Is…Janus suggesting they fake being in a relationship to, what, defend Roman’s right to sit wherever the fuck he wants for however long in a library?

“What’s in it for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Roman says, “what’s in it for you?”

Janus’s fingers still on the book he’s pulled out. He sighs and looks up at Roman.

“How long have you known about your dyslexia?”

Jumping around a bit here, aren’t we? “About six years, why?”

“And you know how to manage it? For you?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That doesn’t mean it goes away,” Janus says softly, “it’s still work, you just…know how to do it now.”

“Yeah, it still takes me time to do things, why—“ Roman’s eyes widen— “oh. Oh, wait, you mean—wait, what do they have against you?”

Janus’s mouth tugs up into a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Roman mumbles, “you know what I mean.”

Janus just winks at him before sobering. “Well,” he says wryly, gesturing at himself, “surely you can understand that…not everyone treats you very well when you aren’t the circumference of a toothpick.”

Oh. They’re those kind of assholes. Something Janus chuckles about when that thought gets out before Roman can stop them.

“Quite. I can manage them, but it’s still work.” He looks at Roman. “Maybe we can split the load?”

“I’m down with that.”

“Wonderful. Now,” Janus says, mock sternly, “get back to work. We have lunch to get.”

Roman chuckles. “Sure, sure, don’t ask to borrow my notes.”

“I would never, I just forget things like a cool person and make things up that the professor likes to hear.”

Yeah, this is gonna go just fine.

As it turns out, it does. Roman won’t lie, he was…skeptical about the viability of this plan of theirs. He’s read the stories. He knows how this works. He knows about the misunderstandings and whether it’s a bet or a dare, something goes wrong.

But…nothing does.

Watching Janus tear anyone to shreds is entertaining enough in class, where Roman gives up on taking debate notes and just watches because goddamn, but when he gets to stand there and just glare at some ableist while Janus verbally decimates them? Poetic cinema. He debates sneaking some popcorn into his jacket pocket but that would take away from the power of his glare.

And it is nice to have someone else do the work of glaring assholes away from his table when he’s working on reading. He would be lying if he said that actually having someone else to talk to isn’t part of it. It’s so much easier to keep track of where he’s messing up so he can focus on it during his exercises later.

“You know,” Janus remarks as they leave the library one day, “you can ask the professors for editable pdfs.”

“Huh?”

“For your font stuff.” Janus nods toward his backpack. “I know you like to change the font so you can read it better, most of them have editable copies of the materials.”

“Not for the eBooks and scans and stuff.”

Janus huffs, waving his hand. “How do you think they get the audio transcripts for the recorded versions? They have to transcribe it anyway, just ask for those.”

Roman stops. “How…how do you know those exist?”

Janus just taps the side of his nose and winks.

“Can…can you do that?”

“Of course.” Janus links his arm through Roman’s. “Anything for you.”

That shouldn’t do what it does to Roman’s chest.

Because yeah, okay, maybe Janus is…really cute.

Like, unfairly cute.

No one should be able to rock that hat all the time. And the gloves. And the pocket watch. And the curly hair. And the attitude. And the impressive vocabulary. And the razor-sharp wit. And he actually knows how to flirt! What is flirting? All Roman knows is Gay Panic™ and Suffering™. What is this? Why is it allowed?

And why, oh why, did Janus have to be the one that started the fake-dating idea?

Because here’s the thing. It would be so easy to just be friends with Janus. It would! They’re already friends now, fake-dating kind of does that to you. And Janus, despite what he wants everyone else to believe, is a fucking dork. His actual laugh is squeaky and bubbly and ugh, Roman could drown in it. And he’s really kind. It’s not the same breed of kind that Roman’s used to, but goddamn, Janus is so sweet when he lets himself be. And it’s been so long since Roman had like, an actual friend…

But it would also be so easy to be more than friends with Janus. To actually be able to take him out for dates and not just lunch at their janky cafeteria. To be able to spend time together that isn’t just for show, or platonic, or just hanging out ranting about stupid dead supposed-to-be-smart people.

Again, Roman’s read the stories. He knows how this is supposed to go.

So when he takes a little longer to pack up one day, enough that Janus notices and eases himself back down into his seat with a soft, real, ‘what’s wrong, sweetie, let me help,’ Roman prepares the bittersweet ‘nothing, I’m fine,’ and to swallow down everything real.

But instead…

“Can we, um, actually date?”

Janus blinks. “Come again, sweetie?”

Roman fiddles with the buckle on his bag. “I, um, I really appreciate what we’ve been doing, and I, um, I’m super happy being your friend…”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“…but I, um—“ god, why are words so hard?— “I think I would actually like to try…dating you. For real.”

He peeks up nervously at Janus.

“Is…is that okay?”

Janus sits there, silent. He blinks a few times. Then a slow, real smile spreads across his face.

“Roman,” he says softly, almost too quiet, even in the hush of the library, “why do you think I proposed this idea in the first place?”

Oh.

Roman blinks. “Wait, you—you?”

A pretty flush covers Janus’s face. “Well, I…was planning to ask you normally, but then I saw you being absolutely tormented and…panicked.”

“You panicked?”

He throws his hands up. “Well, what was I supposed to do? The most gorgeous person in my seminar was being bullied and I was supposed to just let it happen?”

Wait. Back up. Roman is what?

“And yes, maybe I...wanted an excuse to be your friend first, but as I said, I panicked and so—“

“You—wait, you think I’m pretty?”

Janus stops, mouth open, before he’s scoffing. “Roman, have you seen yourself?”

“Uh—“

“At least you’re pretty,” Janus mutters under his breath, “pretty and dumb, but pretty.”

“Hey!”

“You can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time, sweetie.”

“Oh, says the man whose idea was to fake-date me because you wanted to actually ask me out!”

“I will not be lectured on dramatics from a theater kid.”

“That’s ex-theater kid to you.”

“Oh, you know once you go, you never come back.”

Roman giggles. Then he’s laughing. Janus joins in and oh, this is much better than shoving feelings down and pretending they don’t exist.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“No,” Janus purrs, reaching over to boop the end of Roman’s nose, “I’m your fucking dork.”

Oh. Oh, that sounds…really good. Roman’s chest is really warm now, when did that happen? Janus smiles too.

“So…dinner?”

“You’re paying.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori

If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit

56 notes · View notes

thrillridesz · 4 years ago

Text

walkin’ in time ▫ sangyeon

➳ pairing: single dad!sangyeon x female kindergarten teacher!reader

➳ genre: fluff, angst, single dad!au, kindergarten teacher!au

➳ warnings: mentions of divorce

➳ word count: 11.6k

➳ special thanks: @fullsunsays for helping me to proofread and offering her invaluable opinions when this fic was still halfway done + @ateez-little-star who i have cameoed in this fic for being such a sweet mutual and a lovely friend of mine here on tumblr!

a/n : only semi edited!

“Goodbye, Miss y/n!”

You flashed Sungchan a warm smile despite the tired look in your eyes and your less-than-presentable appearance with your messy, tousled hair and paint splattered clothes from a long day at the kindergarten. The boy flashed a toothy grin at you as he held onto his mother’s hand, tottering away cheerfully and at the corner of your eye, you caught Chanhee looking at you with admiration in his expression.

“Wow, the kids sure do like you a lot. Much more than the rest of us for sure.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot at the compliment as you lowered your head shyly. You are not one to be used to receiving compliments but ever since you started your job here at Sunny Hearts Kindergarten, it seemed as if everyone had nothing but praise for your performance - both parents, fellow teachers and students alike. Since you were a high schooler, you had always known that you loved working with children. There was just something about the little ones with their bright smiles and lively mannerisms that warmed your heart. To be able to be in a job that allowed you to light up the lives of the future generation and possibly make an everlasting impact in their educational journey, it all felt extremely exciting to you.

“Thanks, Chanhee.” You said softly, a sweet smile gracing your face. Just then, you became briefly aware of a presence lingering behind you and you swivelled around to see Jeno, a doe-eyed boy from your art class. Instantly, you could tell that there was something wrong. His eyes were red and you could tell that the polo tee he wore was tear-stained and you could vaguely hear light sniffling from him. He tugged nervously at your skirt and you knelt down until you were level with him.

“Hey buddy, why are you crying?” You asked in a concerned voice, ruffling his soft hair lightly.

He lifted his head tentatively, peering at you from beneath his eyelashes where a stray teardrop hung and you very gently rubbed it away as he remained silent as though he was too shy or upset to speak. Looking around, Jeno’s eyes swept the room and you realised what was going on. The lobby was almost empty by now with all the cubicles for the children’s bags all emptied and shoes from the shoe cabinet all gone. The sky was darkening with every second as a low, eerie rumbling sound came with a looming patch of dark clouds. The familiar sounds of chatters and laughter had completely disappeared by now only to be replaced by a lonely, deafening silence. With a backpack that was clearly too large for him, Jeno’s shoulders were slumped over and his expression drooped sadly, causing your heart to ache for him.

“It’s ok, your daddy will be here really soon! He’s probably just busy but he’ll be here.” You coaxed, holding and rubbing his tiny hands in yours and feeling the tension dissipate slightly from his being.

Beside you, Chanhee shook his head in disapproval, tutting.

“The man is always late.”

You didn’t say anything in return as you bite down on your lower lip, unsure of what to say. You knew that Jeno’s father was a busy man and the times you had actually been able to meet him in person, he looked exactly like a man overworked in his office job. Lee Sangyeon was almost always late to any parent teacher meeting or closing time, sometimes even entirely failing to show up as evident from the times when Jeno’s grandmother showed up instead. The few times you had seen him, he had bags under his eyes and had an unkempt appearance with a mangled tie and wrinkled office shirt almost every single time. As a single father, it was obvious to everyone how hard he worked just by the way he looked so deeply exhausted yet so alert for the next call from his office. There had been quite a number of times when Sangyeon had had to excuse himself just to take a call in the middle of fetching Jeno.

Although you try to keep your work separate from your personal feelings, you had to admit that many times, you had felt your heart beat just a tad too quickly whenever you did see Sangyeon. From the way his smile would grow wider and the way his eyes lit up whenever he came to pick up his son on the few occasions he did, anyone could tell he loved and adored his son very much. It was the sort of look you saw on a man that would do simply anything for his child. With his dashing good looks and the air of a mature, responsible working man, Sangyeon was also quite easily sometimes the subject of gossip among the mothers though he did not seem to have noticed it. You didn’t blame them, you too found him deeply attractive. If anything, the years did a good number on him.

You swallowed thickly.

You never told anyone at work about this but you had known Sangyeon back in high school when he was a senior and you, a freshman. Even back then, he had his good looks and was easily one of the most popular boys in school with his exceptional talent in the sport of volleyball and stellar grades. In a way, he felt almost untouchable and so deeply out of reach to everyone besides his own group of friends. That cheerful smile of his would light up any classroom and field he walked into and both the student body and teaching staff alike adored him for him. The boys used to want to hang out with him while the girls used to send him love letters every other day. You on the hand, kept mostly to yourself. With very little friends, life in high school was quiet and uneventful yet you would never forget the way Sangyeon made you feel. He was after all your very first love… As much as you hated to admit it.

You gritted your teeth at the memory. No, it won’t do to bring up past grievances.

All you could be thankful for was that since Sangyeon was a couple years older than you were, it meant that he had graduated earlier than you did. Not seeing his face around school was probably the better part of your high school years. With how busy school was, it wasn’t very long before you found yourself pushing him out of your mind but somehow at the back of your mind, you knew he always did claim a part of your heart for himself… Even as those memories continued to linger as well.

So imagine your shock when you first saw him a little over a year ago at the gates of the kindergarten you worked at. It felt weird seeing him again but at the same time, you could stop the warm, soft feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. It was like clockwork, the same sensations you felt all those years ago coming back - the fast pounding of your heart and the growing heat in your cheeks. Yet right after, there was that sense of dread that came back stronger than ever, sort of like a bad aftertaste. With the good memories, also came the bad memories from back then and just seeing him in the flesh after so many years was enough to break open the dam and allow these memories to come rushing back. Tried as you might to block them out, it wasn’t easy but you managed to keep your personal feelings at bay.

When you found out later that he was divorced, you couldn’t help but feel a jolt of happiness in you which you quickly stifled, shocked at yourself. Somehow it felt wrong to still harbour feelings for him but you tried your best to convince yourself that those were just because of your memories from high school. You probably don’t actually still have feelings for him… Or do you?

Shaking your head, you decided you weren’t going to think about it despite the growing anticipation in your heart as you turned your attention back to little Jeno. It wasn’t like Sangyeon remembered you anyways - He didn’t mention a single thing when the two of you met.

Quickly, you reached into your back pocket and drew out a toffee candy. You always had some at hand, both as a snack and for cheering up the children whenever they were upset. It worked almost instantaneously and you watched as Jeno lit up, his cheeks turning rosier by the second as he smiled brightly at you before grabbing the sweet. Maybe it wasn’t really a good thing, to always cheer your students up with sweets since it could cause cavities but you knew Jeno loved them and he looked so sad that you just couldn’t bear to leave him be.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You turned to Chanhee and immediately frowned when you saw the expression on his face. “What is it?”

Chanhee shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, his hands fiddling with the keys as he cast you a sheepish look. In his other hand, he held his phone and as he waved it awkwardly at you, you could only sigh in resignation.

“Your wife?”

Chanhee’s face grew slightly pink as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

“Y-yeah… Duty calls. She’s forgotten her keys again so I have to go home and open it for her.”

You peered outside at the darkening sky and little Jeno perched comfortably on the stool, sucking lightly at the toffee sweet in his mouth as he watched with a child-like interest at an ant trailing across the floor. Glancing at the clock, you decided maybe this week’s episode of ‘The Stealer House’ (which was your all time favourite show) could wait. After all, you could always ask for updates from your best friend, Jasmine.

“Alright. Go on, I’ll lock up.” You smiled, extending your hand.

“Thanks, y/n! You’re a lifesaver! Coffee. On me. Tomorrow. I’ll see you!” Chanhee said gratefully, slinging on his messenger bag before making a beeline for his car.

As Chanhee drove off, you and Jeno could only sit and watch as the first drops of the evening rain began to fall upon the earth in soft pattering sounds. You sighed deeply. The rainy season was here. Over the past few weeks, there have been downpours after downpours. At first, they happened on alternate days before it became more and more frequent. It had rained earlier this morning but it seemed as if it might start again any time soon.

A short moment of silence befell as you simply sat next to Jeno, who fiddled with his tiny fingers as his legs dangled above the ground from the stool.

“Well, would you like to do anything before your daddy comes?” You asked good-naturedly, peering down at him.

Jeno turned to look at you, his eyes big and bright.

“More candy!”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“Too much candy isn’t good for you, Jeno. Plus, your daddy will get upset if you get a toothache because of it.”

Jeno pouted, huffing a little as he turned away, swinging his legs.

“I wish I could eat as much candy as I want without getting a toothache.” He murmured petulantly.

“Same, Jeno. Same here.” You smiled before a sharp knock on the door caused the two of you to look up.

Sangyeon was standing outside, absolutely drenched from head to toe, his hair clinging onto his face and neck in wet strands. The white collared office shirt he wore was absolutely soaked and clung on uncomfortably to his skin, the rainwater still dripping from the ends of his hair and clothes. His hand which held his briefcase was shaking and you could see his chest heaving up and down as he trembled ever so slightly from the cold.

“I’m… I’m here.” He panted, his voice shaking as the chilly wind bit harshly through his freezing skin and into his bones.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, eyes wide with alarm as you rushed over and immediately opened the door. Upon entering, Sangyeon collapsed in the tiny stool which was sitting by the door, the wooden material creaking slightly under his full weight. His face was pale and you could tell that he had ran the entire way here under the unforgiving, violent storm outside. Quickly, you hurried into the locker room, throwing open the towel cupboards. Frowning, you rummaged through the piles of fabric until you found one large enough for him. Rushing back, you handed Sangyeon the towel, which he accepted gratefully through chattering teeth. Amidst the commotion, Jeno could only sit and stare blankly at his father.

“D- Daddy?” He said, confusion in his expression. Jeno had never seen his father in such a bad state before even when he was really sick so this was all very worrying for the little boy.

“Hey, l- l- little guy. Sorry… Daddy… W- was a little l-l- late.” Sangyeon stuttered, still reeling from the cold but trying to keep up a strong front as he plastered on a weak smile.

“Do you need something hot to drink?” You asked, concerned. Your heart skipped a beat as Sangyeon looked up at you, his eyes dark yet unintentionally intense. He smiled softly at you despite the cold that racked his body.

“T-That will n-not be necessary. I j-j- just need to s-sit for a m-moment,” he said before continuing, “D- Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t. Please take all the time you need. The storm out there is insane, I’m sorry you had to go through that. I noticed you didn’t drive over today?”

Sangyeon shook his head, looking down.

“Some people borrowed our car! Daddy said they will return it to us soon.” Jeno piped up, a huge smile on his face as though announcing an exciting piece of news. “They had a really cool robot like a fishing rod-”

“Jeno!” Sangyeon scolded and the colour on his cheek returned. Jeno stopped mid sentence, his face crumpling ever so slightly. You looked on, flustered.

“It’s fine! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I um… I’ll get you a mug of hot tea anyways, it helps with the cold.” You said, waving your hands in front of you frantically before running off to the kitchen.

As you waited for the kettle to reach a boil, you found your mind drifting to what happened earlier. Did their car get towed? Why? Sangyeon didn’t seem too happy when Jeno mentioned it… Was it because they could no longer afford it? The loud squeaking of the kettle shook you from your reverie and you hurriedly prepared the tea.

“Thanks.” Sangyeon mumbled, receiving the mug with both hands. He looked considerably better than he did earlier, having stopped shivering and the colour returning to his face and hands. You couldn’t help but realise how large his hands were as you handed him the mug of hot tea and when his finger lightly grazed against yours, you almost withdrew instantly which would have sent the mug crashing. Handing Jeno a small packet of banana milk, you sat opposite the father-son duo and stared out at the rain which hadn’t eased up at all. At this rate, neither of you would be able to go home. The wind outside was so strong that the trees looked dangerously close to snapping and the number of times a flash of lightning zapped across the sky was terrifying.

You turned to look at the clock.

7:06pm.

Usually, you would have been on the way home if not for the rain. You were so transfixed at the clock that you failed to notice Sangyeon staring at you.

“Do you have to be somewhere?”

You jumped, looking a little frazzled, not expecting him to strike up a conversation at all.

“Um, no. I don’t.” You forced a smile despite your nerves which were kicking in.

“Oh.” He said quietly as he took another tentative sip of his tea.

“How’s the tea?” You smiled, lacing your fingers together. The awkwardness in the room was almost suffocating and you would have given anything to get yourself out of this situation. It didn’t help that you found the man sitting across from you so deeply and hauntingly attractive even if he looked as if he just went through some sort of hell with his scruffy appearance. The all too familiar melty sensation from high school was coming back and you had to hold yourself back from relieving those teenage girl tendencies.

Get a grip, y/n.

“It’s pretty good. You make really nice tea.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling into crescents and you felt your chest tighten.

“Doesn’t look like the rain is going to stop soon.”

The carpark lot outside was practically mildly flooded with rainwater while dark clouds continued to loom over the earth outside. It would be impossible to venture outside without getting completely soaked even if one had an umbrella or raincoat on. The nearest bus stop and subway station was about a good 20 minute walk away and that was on an ordinary day. With the rain outside coming down so relentlessly, it would likely take more than 45 minutes.

“Yeah… If only I had a car.” You said, only to immediately regret it. Sangyeon’s eyes darkened and he sank into his seat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, please don’t apologise.” He replied in a kind manner, though he wouldn't meet your eyes out of embarrassment. “We… Couldn’t afford it anymore. You know… The um, road taxes are getting pricier and pricier. If only I still had the car, I could have sent you home. Instead, you’re stuck here with me and Jeno. I’m sorry for coming so late, I should have planned my time better...”

“Ah, please do not apologise! It’s ok, I understand it completely!” You spluttered, feeling anxious. It was odd to see him so down and come to think of it, it was probably the most emotion and actual conversation you had gotten out of him since the first time you’d seen him again here at the kindergarten. Even then, it wasn’t the kind of emotion or type of conversation you had envisioned having with him and you disliked seeing him like this. In a way, it also struck you that the Sangyeon that was sitting in front of you was different from the one you knew back in high school.

The Sangyeon now seemed much more guarded, defensive yet weirdly… Mature. It was like he grew up and experienced so much more of adulthood than most would at his age. At 28, many guys his age would still be enjoying the remaining years of their supposed youthful years - going to clubs, travelling with friends and going on dating sprees. Yet here he was, having married young, had a son and then divorced all before he even hit 30. It was definitely surprising to know that this was the very same guy that everyone in high school thought had it all going for him. As the school’s star volleyball player and captain of the school team when you both were still students, most were willing to bet that he would be signed by a major sports league of sorts but it never happened. Instead, he went to university to study accountancy and met his now ex-wife which he had clearly divorced. The Sangyeon in high school was exuberant, outgoing and full of life. You distinctively remembered how the two of you had crossed paths the very first time in school.

“Can’t we just go another time?” You whined to your best friend, Jasmine who dragged you by the wrist down the corridor.

Swivelling around to look at you with an indignant expression on her face, Jasmine rolled her eyes before smirking. Her hair flowed gracefully behind her as the two of you glided down the hallways, much to the confusion of some who watched the two of you pass.

“Nope. You won’t regret this, trust me.” She winked.

“What about volleyball could possibly be more interesting than watching my favourite twitch streamers play Minecraft and Pokémon, the two greatest games ever created?”

Jasmine stopped short, her mouth hanging open.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” You replied huffily. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back to my laptop.”

“Oh no, you’re not. You’re a teenage girl. It’s not everyday you get to live your teenage years so you’re coming with me!” She snapped, grabbing you and running down the stairs. You tried to keep pace with her, your feet moving quickly in line with hers so you wouldn’t fall and break your neck or something. Sometimes, you forgot how unfit you were as you struggled to catch your breath. Maybe it was time to stop bingeing YouTube and those delicious chocolate bars you have stashed under your bed so your mother wouldn’t find them.

As you guys entered the volleyball court, you could see crowds of students from all grades cheering from the bleachers, some with banners in their hands and others with inflatable plastic sticks and their phones to document the ongoing match. It was the start of the sports season in schools and on this particular afternoon, the volleyball team was supposed to have their very first preliminary match against another school from downtown. The atmosphere was chaotic with the sound screaming and cheering almost deafening you. The thumping of trainers against the waxed wooden floor was irritating your ears and the huge scoreboard on the wall above felt intimidating with its large flashing red numbers counting down the match. The players in the court were so involved in their game that not once did any of them look up to check the timing, their eyes all firmly trained on the ball as they hurried to serve. Nobody seemed to notice you and Jasmine either as the two of you took your places at the side of bleachers.

Everything was moving so quickly that you didn’t even know what was going on exactly. To be honest, you didn’t have a clue which team you were supposed to root for either. Are the guys wearing the white jersey shirts the ones from the school’s volleyball team? Or was it the ones in red and black? It was all very confusing. Nevertheless, it took almost no time for you to get bored out of your mind. Your head was pounding from the loud noises that surrounded you and you wanted so desperately to go back to the tranquility of your homeroom. You didn’t understand volleyball either which meant that nothing really made sense to you.

Looking at Jasmine, you could see that she was engrossed in the game. Following her eyes, you held back a chuckle at you realised who she had her sights on. Of course, it was Younghoon. You must have heard her gush over the volleyball team’s vice captain over a million times by now. Even as someone who abhorred sports and never kept up with the sports news in school, you knew Younghoon simply because of how many times she had talked about him. You could understand why she would though. There was no denying that he was an attractive guy, with shiny raven hair and a firm stance that exuded coolness. However, you had other things on your mind. Like Minecraft… And Pokémon.

Quietly, you inched away, careful not to alert her. You were so close to the double doors when you suddenly felt an ominous feeling strike you. It took you a split second to turn around and see a ball hurtling towards you at about a million miles per hour.

THUMP!

You felt yourself fall down onto the floor, your head throbbing. Your vision was blurring up and you could feel the dizziness set in as the court gasped collectively. You felt your cheeks heating up. How embarrassing! You could vaguely hear a woman (most likely a medic) ask you how you were feeling but you couldn’t get yourself to focus. All you wanted to do was get up and remove yourself from this humiliating situation.

“I am so sorry, are you okay?”

Suddenly, you became briefly aware of a strong, rough hand gripping onto your forearm firmly but gently. The touch felt soothing and it sent a jolt of electricity down your spine and immediately you snapped your head to look up at the owner of the voice. What you saw, made the words at the back of your throat hitch.

Never in your life have you ever come face to face with such a handsome face. His coffee brown hair cascaded in soft locks over his dark eyes and as he knelt down to help you, you felt your breath hitch. Was it even possible for a guy’s lips to look that… Soft? The red and black jersey fit him perfectly and the sleeveless cutting brought out the muscle definition of his arms and you could feel yourself getting shy. It wasn’t long before mortification set in. You must look like a complete idiot in front of him!

Instantly, you reeled back as if burned, withdrawing your hand away from him. He stiffened, his eyes widening in surprise. The medic tutted, shaking her head at Sangyeon.

“She needs space. I’ll take care of her, you go and play your match, be more careful while you’re at it!” She snapped and Sangyeon took a tentative step back, a sheepish expression on his face and uncertainty in those dark eyes. You could sense the hesitation as he debilitated whether to help or not.

“Hey, Lee Sangyeon! Get back in there! The girl will be fine!” A portly man screamed at him from the sidelines, most likely his coach.

“Sangyeon.” You mumbled his name under his breath. You had heard his name only in passing, sometimes Jasmine would go on about the volleyball team and at times, you’d heard her mention that very name. This guy was the volleyball team’s captain?

Sangyeon turned back to you, an uncomfortable look on his face as he mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ before bolting back into the court and to his teammates who patted him reassuringly on the back and casted you looks of guilt.

“Oh my god, y/n! Are you feeling alright?” Jasmine hurried over, her brows furrowing together with worry.

“Y-yeah… I’m good.” You could only reply dumbly, your sights still fixed on the boy who had most certainly captured your heart for his own.

Ever since that day, you remembered how you would always run down to the volleyball court with Jasmine even without her asking. It was real funny how just a single gaze could have you so smitten with someone. When you did see him playing, you would try to make yourself comfortable at the bleachers, trying not to look too conspicuous. In the hallways, you would run the other way whenever you saw him but peek around the corner just to catch a glimpse. It was all a very new feeling to you, the exhilaration and nervousness you would feel whenever you saw him around school. Sure, you still loved Minecraft and Pokémon but there was something about Sangyeon that made you feel some type of way. It was like the warm feeling in your chest you’d get on a cold, winter morning when you sit by a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. It was like the feeling of momentary happiness you would get when you win a prize at the claw machine. It was like the slight tingle you would get when you experience static.

It was your first love.

Maybe it was love at first sight then. Cupid had finally pulled its arrow on you. Suddenly, it seemed as though everything about Sangyeon was interesting to you. You would perk up whenever you heard his name in a conversation and when you saw him, you couldn’t even hide the bashfulness in your expression. Smart and caring, he was perfect. Many people seemed to have thought the same, what with his insane popularity in school. He was always surrounded by people that it made it difficult for people like you to even get close or attempt to befriend him.

“...Y/n? Are you alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts as Sangyeon waved a hand in front of you, trying to get your attention.

“Sorry! What were you saying?” You asked, embarrassed at having gone off on a daze like that. Sangyeon regarded you with curiosity, a little unsure of what to make of you.

“Um, nothing much. You just stared off into space.” He said slowly. Beside him, Jeno was fast asleep with his mouth slightly ajar and a bit of drool leaking from his lips to his shirt.

“Oh, he’s asleep!”

Hurriedly, you took off the cardigan you were wearing and placed it gently over the boy’s sleeping form. There was an unexplainable look in Sangyeon’s eyes as you did but he remained silent.

“I… Sorry, I guess I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.” You smiled, feeling the nerves kicking in. Sangyeon raised an eyebrow, holding the hot mug of tea closer to himself. The rain outside was still as violent as ever and it didn’t look as if it would be easing up anytime soon. A beam tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, would you like to talk about it?”

Looking at that smile that made your heart flutter, it was almost laughable how he had almost no idea the effect he was having on you. Quite honestly, you surprised yourself with all these emotions that were now bubbling up once again. In a way, you didn’t think you still had it in you but your crush on Sangyeon even from all those years ago must have had a huge impact on you. Your heart was picking up its pace and if you weren’t careful, he might be able to hear it. Sensing your apprehension, his smile dropped.

“Sorry, I must have crossed the line. I was just trying to make conversation.”

“Ah, no. You haven’t. I just… It’s something very personal to me.” You mumbled under your breath and Sangyeon nodded weakly.

“I understand.”

At that moment, he let out a large sneeze and very nearly tipped the tea he had in the mug. His nose was becoming redder by the minute and it was clear that he was close to catching a cold.

“Are you alright?” You asked, reaching forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sangyeon waved his hand, looking slightly embarrassed.

“I’ll be fine.”

It was at that moment the both of you became aware of your hand on his shoulder and just how close your proximity was. Your hair was just brushing against his face and your lips were mere inches away. His eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies, bright and luminous as they were, especially so under the dim lighting while the storm raged outside.

Quickly, you leaped back and he cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes looking everywhere but you. You could feel the heat rapidly rising up to your cheeks and you could feel your words getting stuck at the back of your throat, unsure of what to say. That was when you noticed that the office shirt Sangyeon was wearing was still sticking uncomfortably to him, the wet and cold fabric causing him to shiver ever so slightly. You briefly remembered Chanhee stocking up some extra shirts, towels and slacks for the staff just the other day when a painting class went out of hand.

‘For convenience’s sake’, he had said when questioned. At that time, you had laughed at him for being too cautious and overreacting. To think they could actually come in handy now was extremely ironic, though it might not have been for the situation you had in mind.

“We have some extra shirts and pants in the storeroom if you need. The shower is just right there.” You said softly, still feeling a little rattled from what happened earlier.

Snapping his head up, Sangyeon wrinkled his nose.

“You have extra shirts and pants here? Of my size?”

“Um yeah, one of the teachers thought to buy some cheap ones when we had an unfortunate painting incident the other day. We had a bit of a paint fight in the nursery classroom,” you said, laughing a little just at the memory of what happened.

Sangyeon smiled warmly, the amusement shining in his eyes.

“That must have been some paint fight.”

“It was!” You bobbed your head up and down. “Wild.”

“You sure it’s not a problem for me to just use the shower?” He asked, a little hesitant.

“Not at all!”

As he stood up, you couldn’t help but notice that he towered over you. Sure, he had always towered over you but it still felt so nerve wracking to have him standing before you like that with his wet hair slicked back and the white shirt clinging onto his body. You tried to keep your sights trained firmly on the ground, trying your best not to look as you led the way. The feeling of him just trailing behind you sent shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Yet somehow despite the fact that it got your heart doing some pretty intense backflips, his presence was also weirdly... comforting.

The tantalising aroma of convenience store fried chicken and corn dogs hung in the air as you stepped in, pulling the hood of your jacket furtively over your head, your eyes scanning the area. The snacks were displayed beautifully on the metal racks and the frosty machine whirred softly in the background over the melody of the then trending pop song played on the radio but you had no eyes for it. Pulling your jacket over your body to conceal your uniform, the tension in you only dissipated when you found no one but the bored cashier standing by the cash register who was too busy filing her nails to even care that you stepped in.

Had you found a teacher in here, you would have been toast. Walking idly down the racks of delectable snacks, you could barely hide your glee as you took in the vast variety of junk food in front of you. Barbeque chips, white chocolate biscuits, animal shaped gummy candies… It was heaven on earth. You scrunched up your nose as you thought of the standard fare probably being served back at the school canteen. No doubt, it was probably the same old stale carbonara pasta and salad made from withered up lettuce and soft tomatoes. Just the thought of it was enough to strike disgust in your heart. Rounding the corner, you almost jumped at the sight of a group of boys seated at the far corner of the store. It took you about a second to realise that they weren’t teachers but rather fellow rulebreakers from school and relaxed.

It must be nice to have a group of friends to do such lawless things together. Jasmine would always chastise you for leaving, refusing to come with you. Easy for her to say, she always had such beautiful packed lunches from home. You, on the other, had only your own allowance to rely on and there was no way you were going to spend it on the food offered in the school’s cafeteria.

You were so engrossed in the selection of snacks before you that you failed to even notice the overlooming dark clouds outside and the light, methodic pattering sound of tiny raindrops against the glass windows. As you stood before a choice of either a ham and cheese sandwich or turkey sandwich, you wondered if you brought enough money. Whipping out your purse, you did a quick check only to cry out.

Pouring out a few pennies onto your palm, you could feel your heart crumpling. How could you have forgotten to bring money of all things? Your stomach growled audibly and you whimpered, feeling like you were about to cry. Grazing your fingers over the wrapped sandwiches longingly, you started to make your way out of the store, dragging your feet as you did. Looks like it’s back to measly school meals.

Yet as you opened the door only to be greeted by a now heavy downpour, the urge to curse out loud had never been stronger. You had completely forgotten that it was now the rainy season. Now, you were not only going to be hungry but also cold at the same time. How did things turn out so badly? Turning back to look at the cashier who didn’t even glance up, you decided there was no right way about it. Your choices were either to brave the rain or be late for classes.

As you stood despondently staring at the rain and reflecting on your life choices, the group of boys from earlier stumbled out of the store, laughing as they did.

“I’ve honestly never seen him like that!”

“It’s definitely something new. Oh hey, it’s raining guys.”

“Wow, it happened so suddenly though. Just a moment ago, it was fine.”

Glancing at them, you felt yourself subconsciously inching away. You never were very good with people, especially boys. To say it felt awkward was an understatement. It was embarrassing as well, knowing that you’ve made an empty trip and got caught in the rain. There was no way they’d know what happened but it didn’t stop you from feeling self conscious about it.

“Well, I think I’m gonna make a run for it! Last one back to school pays for lunch tomorrow!” One of them called out, dashing out into the rain.

“Hak, what the fuck!” Another yelled before the rest of them set off, their shoes splashing against puddles as they did. Some of the rainwater splashed over onto your own shoes and you gritted your teeth but said nothing.

There was the tinkling sound of the convenience store’s door charm as the door swung open.

“Hey guys, I- Oh, hell no. They did not just do that to me.” Someone said breathlessly from behind you.

You froze. That voice…

Turning around slowly, you found yourself staring at the one and only, Lee Sangyeon. Instantly, your cheeks began to burn and your heartbeat began to pick up its pace. Of all places and of all people, why him?! Looking away quickly, you tried to calm yourself down. It’s a mere coincidence, maybe if you don’t say anything he won’t-

“Um, hello?”

This cannot be happening.

You swivelled around to look at him as you tried to calm your beating heart and as you did, you could feel that warm feeling you felt ever so often whenever you saw him around school despite your nervousness. With him just right in front of you, it all felt extremely nerve wracking. What do you even say?

“H-Hi?”

“Did you happen to see a group of guys out here?”

“I…” You thought of what had happened earlier. “Um, yeah. They just left though…”

Sangyeon sighed, looking resigned. Keeping his head down, you thought you saw a tint of pinkness in his cheeks before he snapped his head up, his hands planted firmly on his hips as he stared at the torrential downpour. Shooting him furtive glances, you noticed that he had nothing on him either.

“Do you not have an umbrella too?” You asked tentatively.

“...Yeah, I don’t.” He said sheepishly. There was a moment of brief silence where neither of you uttered a single word. Checking his watch, Sangyeon clicked his tongue.

“What is it?”

“It’s 1:15pm, time’s almost up.” He replied, holding up his wrist to show you the time. The butterflies in your stomach disappeared instantly only to be replaced by an uncomfortable gut wrenching feeling instead. You couldn’t afford to be late! You have a math quiz right after lunch! You were already barely scraping by Mr Moon’s class and if you flunk or god forbid, miss the test entirely, it would be a guaranteed fail for the class which would mean that you would have to retake it next semester.

Sangyeon must have noticed the sickly palour on your face and the sheer fear in your eyes because his voice had taken on a gentle tone as he asked, “Do you have something urgent to get to?”

Nothing could have hidden the anxiety and shakiness in your voice as you replied, “I have a math quiz at 1:30pm.”

For a moment, Sangyeon didn’t say anything. Then, he took off the jacket he was wearing and in an instance, he had draped the jacket over your head. Surprised, you looked up at him. He wore a warm smile on his face as he said, “Ready to run when you are.”

“But..! You-”

“I’ll be fine.” He stared out at the pouring rain. “Well, a little rain won’t hurt.”

You could have thought of about a billion different ways to reject him but the fear over missing your math quiz quickly overwhelmed all those thoughts and you had no choice but to dumbly agree. You didn’t like inconveniencing people, especially not Sangyeon but there just wasn’t any good way to turn him down, not when he was looking at you so kindly and so expectantly at that. Sangyeon must have sensed your hesitation because he shot you a reassuring look.

“I’ll be fine.” He reiterated, smiling.

You didn’t say anything but you could feel a sense of warmth growing in your heart despite the cold outside. Somehow, his voice had a calming effect on you and you began to break into a run. He followed suit, the both of you dashing out into the rain with you shielded under his jacket.

While the two of you ran, you couldn’t help but sneak a few looks at him, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter more whenever you did. His side profile highlighted his strong, handsome features and the shadows brought out the definition of jawline and darkness of his eyes. The rainwater gave his skin an almost shining look, water droplets dripping from the tips of his fringe. The water had seeped through the white material of his uniform and the fabric stuck his skin, bringing out his athletic shape. He looked almost as handsome as he did the first time you saw him, that one memorable moment despite the hard hit on your head.

As you stared, he suddenly turned to look at you and for a split second, the two of you made eye contact before you turned away rapidly, your cheeks burning. Why is it that you feel so warm even when it was freezing? Your heart felt like it was about to burst and for a moment, you wondered if he could tell you had feelings for him. Did he remember you? He must have. You don’t just give your jacket to someone… Right? Perhaps it was his way of apologising for the hit though to be quite honest, having him talk to you seemed like enough already. You never were very lucky in love or around your crushes and many times, you would have never exchanged even a single word with your crush out of shyness and fear. This was probably the furthest you’ve ever gotten with someone you liked.

As the two of you finally stepped into the school lobby, Sangyeon was soaked through, the water droplets still dripping down the side of his face. Shaking his head to get the water out, he ran a hand through his hair and you tried not to look. He shot you a grin which you returned.

“Hey, it’s only 1:24pm. We made it.”

“We did, thank you so much for that.” You thanked him shyly to which he brushed off, chuckling.

“It’s alright. No problem at all.”

‘I… I guess I’ll get going?”

“Ah, alright. I’ll see you, y/n.” He smiled before he gasped, suddenly remembering something as he ruffled through his pockets. Drawing out a chocolate bar, he handed it to you. You stared at his outstretched hand, confused.

“Take it.”

“Why?”

“I saw- I have an extra one and I’m not exactly allowed to eat chocolate right now because of competition season. I thought you might want it?”

When you didn’t say anything, he continued quickly, “I mean, that is if you want it of course.”

You could feel your stomach growling just looking at that sweet, heavenly bar of chocolatey goodness and it suddenly came to you that you have not had lunch. Normally, you would have flat out rejected an offer like that but the way he was looking at you with those kindly eyes made you think twice. There was no way you could say no to Sangyeon.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, taking the chocolate bar from him and his smile widened.

“By the way, I-”

Before he could say another word, the same group of boys who you had identified to be his friends came from behind the lockers several aisles down. Some of them were laughing as one of them slapped him across the back. They seem

“You’re finally back!” An upperclassmen you recognised as the school’s baseball team’s pitcher, Changmin said, patting him on the back. “See, guys? I told you guys he’s going to go for it. He’s not as big as a coward you guys think he is!”

“Fine, fine. Take your bet.” Another who you knew was referred to earlier as ‘Hak’, grumbling and slapping a wad of notes into Changmin’s hand.

“Didn’t think you’d actually do that, Sangyeon. I should have bet that she wouldn’t accept-” A red-haired friend of his stopped mid sentence, his face palling as the group began to notice that you were still standing there. The rest of the group seemed to have noticed at the same time Sangyeon’s face had turned properly red by now and his lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a single word he was saying. The shame of it all was blocking out everything and your face was growing hotter and hotter by the second until you felt almost positive that you could explode. Biting so hard on your lower lips that you were almost sure you were going to bleed, you shied away as he took a tentative step forward.

“Y/n, please…” He reached out to hold your hand but you shrugged it away, keeping your head down and trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Please. Please don’t.” You choked out, taking another step back like a wounded child. Quickly, you turned and bolted out of the lobby and into the corridors. The chocolate bar you had in your hand dropped to the floor with clatter against the linoleum floor and you didn’t even care to see if it broke into fragments just like your heart just did.

As you ran along the noisy walkways where students were chattering among themselves and enjoying the last minutes of their lunch break, you couldn’t help but keep your head down, your thoughts lingering on what happened earlier.

The shame. The humiliation. It was all too much.

Sprinting into the restroom and locking yourself in the cubicle, you had to take a moment to just breathe. Did that really just happen? How could you have been so gullible? You should have known that that was too good to be true - who would have been that nice? You almost wanted to laugh out loud at yourself just like those guys are probably doing now. God, you were such a fool. It was over before it even began.

Sniffling, your vision was beginning to get blurry from all the tears and softly, you whispered, “Lee Sangyeon, I’ll never forgive you.”

Since that day, you would avoid Sangyeon whenever you saw him around. No matter how far he was, just the slight indication of his presence was enough to send you running off in the opposite direction. It was difficult to say the least, to avoid someone within such a small neighbourhood high school. You would hide behind Jasmine or bolt off to the nearest restroom whenever you saw him walking towards you and after a while, she got the message as well, assisting in your escape attempts all the way till Sangyeon’s graduation. The last time you ever saw him was up on that stage with that warm, kind smile of his receiving his graduation certificate up until this year when you met him again when he came to pick up his son, Jeno.

“Hey, you okay?”

You blinked, shaking yourself out of your thoughts and looked up to see Sangyeon staring down at you. His hand was planted against the door frame of the shower making his build seem so much larger, with the other hand outstretched and it took you a moment to realise that he was waiting for you to hand him a spare shirt you had in your hands. Outside, the rain was still pouring down on the earth. The light above had begun to flicker and the room was growing dimmer by the second, the only source of light coming from the moonlight, the flashes of lightning and the dying light source from the ceiling.

Looking at his outstretched hand somehow triggered memories from the past and despite your determination to keep the past in the past, the bitter feelings still resurfaced and with it, it brought anger and frustration. You were no longer the meek girl you were in high school, you were stronger than this. While you fought these feelings that threatened to take control, Sangyeon peered down at you with concern, sensing that something was wrong.

“Y/n?”

The sound of his voice calling your name was just about enough to tip you over the edge.

“Why did you do it?”

You could see the flicker of shock that crossed his face, having been caught off guard at your question. It took you about a second to realise what you had just said. Covering your mouth, you stared at him with wide eyes. You could have kicked yourself. How did you let your feelings get the best of you? He probably doesn’t even remember and you might have just made a fool out of yourself. Again.

For a moment, Sangyeon said nothing and the only sound that broke the silence was the sound of the storm outside.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

You were not expecting a reply. Taken aback, you could only look at him, speechless. The words were stuck in the back of your throat and your palms were beginning to get calmy. It felt like you were being transported back to that very moment in high school.

“You remember?”

Sangyeon’s eyes were full of regret as he whispered, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Sangyeon couldn’t help but let his eyes drift back to you throughout the remainder of the game.

It was getting increasingly difficult to focus on the game and although he knew how badly the team needed to clinch this victory, he couldn’t help but keep looking out for you.

Were you all better? Did the ball hit you too hard?

These were the sort of questions that floated around in his mind as the match went on and every so often, he’d turn to check if you were still there and every time he looked, you would be watching and just the thought of you having your eye on him was enough to give him the boost he needed to perform his best.

It was weird. He barely ever felt this way around anyone else. The many girls that have come forth professing their crushes on him never even came near and here he was being completely smitten by a certain someone. My, how the tables have turned. There was just something about you that simply… Struck him. Your beauty to him was astounding in a very heartwarming and comfortable way. It was like one of those moments when you meet someone and you just knew that you liked them.

It was as if he had fallen under the spell of Cupid. The captain who had never had a crush and always prioritised volleyball and studies was now seen keeping a conscious lookout for the girl who had captured his attention for herself with just a mere gaze. He would look out for you during recess, around school and sometimes during practice when he knew admirers of the volleyball team would come to watch. His heart always soared whenever he did catch a glimpse of you. It was funny how he normally had no problem talking to people but when it came to you, he was as shy as a mouse.

Sangyeon’s friends had caught on relatively quickly, jumping on the rare opportunity to tease the no nonsense, studious volleyball team captain about his little crush on you. Many times unbeknownst to you, his friends would drop a few hints here and there, implying at his supposed crush on you. It was definitely unsettling and embarrassing to say the least but he did not dare jump in for fear of exposing his secret - the fact that he did in fact fancy you.

“Guys, are you actually kidding me right now?” Sangyeon asked, simply radiating with what felt like an intense mixture of anger, frustration, disappointment and dejection. Watching that expression of dismay and sadness on your face did terrible things to his heart, akin to someone pushing a dagger into it and twisting the blade. Part of him did not want to believe that had actually just happened before his very eyes but the sight of the broken chocolate bar on the floor confirmed his worst fears that this was indeed the reality.

When he saw you in the convenience store, it took everything in him not to act like a lovestruck teenager. He tried his best not to pay you any attention but it was practically impossible. It was like whenever he turned away, there was this irrepressible urge to turn back and he just didn’t seem to be able to keep his eyes off you. It was embarrassing to say the least, even more so when his friends caught on.

“Are you ever going to talk to her?” Juyeon asked, rolling his eyes.

“... What do I even say to her? I want to talk but I don’t want to look stupid.”

“Since when have you ever?” Haknyeon chipped in.

“Hey, she’s leaving.” Changmin said suddenly and quickly, Sangyeon turned. “Did she not get anything?”

“I saw her looking into her wallet earlier and I think she probably didn’t have enough money.”

“Is she really skipping lunch?” Sangyeon thought, frowning. Imagine making the effort to sneak out the school and then not having enough money to buy a filling lunch. As the group began to clear up, he stared at the row of chocolate bars on display on a nearby rack. Was this going to his chance? As he stood pondering, Changmin nudged the others. Instantly, they exchanged a knowing look.

“Hey, Sangyeon. We’ll be going out to take a stretch, can you help to clear the rest?” Haknyeon asked.

“Wha-? I uh, yeah sure.” He waved them away without a second thought. Do girls like chocolates for lunch? It’s definitely not your conventional lunch option but he had read somewhere that gifting someone chocolates was romantic and girls liked them as gifts. Sangyeon had zero experience in such things so all he could do was trust the advice he’d read online.

It had taken everything in him to not freak out when he found that his friends had left him alone with you but almost as soon as he talked to you, he couldn’t be more grateful. This was his one opportunity. He didn’t know if you remembered him but he didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment. His heart fluttered and it felt like he was on edge, fearful of making a fool out of himself. He didn’t even think twice about shielding you from the rain. Sangyeon was never one to tolerate the cold very well but for you, he felt more than willing. As the two of you ran, he had been extremely conscious of himself. Were you well shielded? Was the pace of running okay for you? Could you… Hear his heart pounding?

This was not how he envisioned things to go. Just when he thought he finally had a chance, it was ripped away from him. Weeks. For weeks, he had been confronting his own confusing feelings for you. For someone who always knew what he needed to do and what his goals were in everything he did, his feelings surrounding you were the one thing he was never able to comprehend. In a way, you were an enigma he struggled to figure out. Feelings were always a complicated thing to dissect but especially when they came to you. Was this how the people who confessed to him felt when he rejected them? Sangyeon had never thought too deeply into how they might have felt - all he knew was that rejection was supposed to be a natural part of life. He never thought himself as someone who feared rejection yet this time, it was the one thing he dreaded. Rejection would have been terrible but what was even worse was the fact that you were hurt… By him. He had destroyed his own chances once and for all.

The urge to lash out at his friends was strong - he wanted to yell and go off but he knew deep down it was all a misunderstanding and a terribly unlucky case of ‘wrong time, wrong place’.

“We… We are really sorry, Sangyeon.” Changmin apologised quietly, not even daring to look him in the eye.

“Please forgive us.” Haknyeon added, his voice full of remorse and guilt.

Taking a deep breath, Sangyeon closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t possibly blame them. He knew they meant well.

“It’s okay. I’ll try to… Fix this.”

Except he couldn’t. Whenever he came close, you would run off in the opposite direction as if you’d just seen the devil himself. There was no way of coming close to talking to you. His friends had tried to come close but you pushed them away as well. You no longer came by to watch his matches and the growing guilt and sadness had a profound impact on his performances. He didn’t feel like he played as well as he did when you were around. In a way, you were the Daphne to his Apollo. You were the one person he couldn’t have and it pained him. Knowing that you were hurt as a result of his own actions pained him even more. Eventually, he knew he had to give up and as graduation drew near, Sangyeon kept his heart and feelings locked away. He was more invested in his studies and games but none of it felt like it really mattered. He was doing it for the sake of doing it.

Even as he went onto university, it felt tortuous to carry with him the knowledge that he had hurt someone he genuinely never meant to hurt. It might seem childish in hindsight but perhaps… That might have been first love that never was. Many nights, Sangyeon tried to push you out of his mind, trying so hard to convince himself that his feelings were merely fleeting but deep down, he knew they weren’t. Yet as time went on, he began to gradually lock away his memories and even found someone who he married thought as much as he’d never admit it, that strong feeling of comfort, warmth and joy he felt around you was just never there. It wasn’t really any surprise that he had gotten divorced barely a year into the marriage. Communication between him and Mina broke down completely, with regular verbal fights almost every other night. He no longer saw things the same way she did and they disagreed on virtually everything. The screaming, yelling and crying just wouldn’t stop. It was a relationship that drained him both emotionally and mentally. Many nights, he would fall asleep on the couch and wake up with intense back aches that only worsened as he carried around a heavy backpack to work every other day. The two of them went from being best friends and a couple to being almost completely strangers in their own home. Eventually, Mina had barely spared a second thought before packing up her bags and leaving him with a barely 3 month old toddler. It was definitely a union he regretted but the one thing he never did regret was his son, Jeno.

Jeno was the one constant in his life. For a long time, it was just the two of them while he struggled to make ends meet as an accountant for a small paper supply company. Life was average to say the least, it wasn’t fantastic but it wasn’t bad either. He was living in a different part of the country with his son and a small, secure studio apartment. There was nothing out of place and everything was on track. Though, the good times wouldn’t last. When his company went bust, it felt like everything was collapsing right before his very eyes again only this time, it was worse. He had a 3 year old son with him and was unemployed with the threat of eviction trailing closely behind them, breathing down his neck. It felt like the walls were closing in fast around him, leaving them both no room to breathe. He would have been left homeless if not for his friends and connections.

It was a blessing truly when Juyeon hooked him up with an accountant job with a medical supply company. The only problem was the fact that he would have to move back to the very town he had attended high school in, the very period of his life when he had suffered his first heartbreak. As he packed up his bags on his very last night in the city, he wondered briefly if you were still there.

Sangyeon sat at the edge of the bed, looking at the packed suitcases that sat at his feet. Beside him, Jeno was fast asleep. Softly, he ran his fingers through his son’s hair and he smiled. Did it really matter? Even if you were still there, things weren’t like how they were back then when he actually still had a chance of salvaging things. He never did get to know how you really felt about him but he was almost certain that you might still hate him. Maybe you might have forgotten or maybe you might have even moved away. For some reasons as much as Sangyeon didn’t want to confront his past again, he still felt his heart sink at the prospect of not seeing you again when he went back. He never did acknowledge it but you had always claimed a part of his heart for yourself all these years. Even as he alighted from the plane back at his old hometown, Sangyeon had very little expectations.

He never expected much but the shock that hit him was still almost numbing when he first showed up at Sunny Hearts Kindergarten with Jeno. There you were, in the flesh after almost 10 years. You were still as beautiful as you were in his dreams and although he wanted so desperately to talk to you, he knew he should keep his distance. It wouldn’t be right to bring up such memories. He wasn’t sure if you recognised him but he most definitely did. When you looked him in the eye, it took all his power not to do anything stupid. It felt like coming home in a way but to a home he wasn’t familiar with.

“I… I had no idea…” You whispered breathlessly as he told his story.

The room was dark, the power supply having malfunctioned, leaving the two of you in the dark. Hearing Sangyeon’s story in that voice you loved so much was surreal and almost even a little overwhelming. It felt like you were knocked out of your wind. For a moment, there was only the sound of the raging storm outside while the two of you sat in bated silence in the locker room. There was a weird yet familiar tension in the air and after a while, you managed to choke out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Although you couldn’t see Sangyeon’s face, you could hear the softness in his voice.

“You didn’t give me a chance to.”

A flash of lightning zapped across the sky and for a brief moment, you saw the pain in his eyes and it was like something in you clicked. It was the lock you had kept on all those repressed feelings you ever had over the years. Deep down, you knew you had felt the same. You loved him, you loved him so deeply it hurt as did he. The both of you were just two souls in love yet too obstinate and clueless to fight for the love the two of you so deserve. It wasn’t resurfaced feelings - it was feelings that had been locked away for too long, waiting for the right opportunity to be freed and expressed freely.

Sensing the tension, Sangyeon grew flustered, stammering as he did.

“Look, I-I get it if you still don’t-”

His eyes widened as you crashed your lips on his. His soft lips moved slightly against yours as he stiffened. Slowly, he melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face. Your hearts were beating in unison as the two of you became simply locked in the moment, two long lost lovers locked in a tight embrace. As he withdrew, he whispered, “This. This is what I’ve been yearning for since Day one.”

There was so much affection, love and longing in his voice that it almost made you shy. Bowing your head, he chuckled deeply as he tilted your face up ever so gently with 2 fingers, making you look him in the eye. The moonlight from outside made his eyes seem all the more reflective and it felt like for a moment the two of you were back in that volleyball court, exchanging that very first gaze that led to so much hurt, misunderstandings and repressed feelings over all these years.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and you were so surprised, you jumped back. In the bright light, the redness in Sangyeon’s face was all the more apparent and instantly, he cowered back.

“I-I… I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me…”

“Um…” You bit down on your lower lip, unsure of what to say. You knew you wanted to say something but what exactly do you say to a long lost first love who you just shared an intimate moment with?

“Hey, the rain has stopped.” He remarked, looking out and you had a slight inclination that he was trying to cover his blushing face.

“Yeah, it has.” You said slowly.

“Daddy! Miss y/n! Where are you…!” Jeno’s cries from the lobby resounded through the corridor.

“Oh, he must have woken up!” You cried, getting to your feet and making your way over with Sangyeon following closely behind. There was an almost giddy look in his eyes which you felt your heart tightened at the sight of before you realised, you might be wearing the very same expression.

As you locked up the Kindergarten later, you felt Sangyeon standing just beside you, shuffling his feet as if there was something on his mind. Behind him, Jeno was busy jumping into puddles and you lowered your head, like a shy schoolgirl in love which was honestly how you were feeling.

“Would you… Would you be down to join us for dinner?” Sangyeon asked quietly, peering at you with those eyes that seemed to carry entire galaxies in them.

As you looked at him, it all felt like homecoming. This was what everything came down to. A failed high school first love up until this very moment. The man before you felt both so familiar yet so foreign in the best way possible. There was just so much you wanted to talk to him about. All those years the two of you missed, the lost love that the two you could have had… Thinking about it all almost made you emotional all over again.

Finally. After all these years, you have found it.

“Okay.”

555 notes · View notes

carrotmakar · 4 years ago

Text

Not Every Show Is Perfect - a tvfbsotm extra

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Harry messes up live for the first time in what seems like forever and he gets all broken up about it. Thankfully, you’re there to help him realize that one mistake doesn’t mean he’s horrible.

Warning(s): Sign of the Times (yes, the song. and yes, i think it deserves a warning), cursing, Harry being hard on himself, tears, fluffiness, not edited (sorry, i didn’t want to bother anyone!!)

A/N: This is yet another extra to The View From Both Sides of the Mirror that nobody asked for!!! (if you haven’t read that, you can read it here). This is the second extra that I have written for them!!! There will be two more (at least) <33

Masterlist | Taglist | Request Something - Guidelines | Come Talk To Me

It had been years since he had messed up on that song. He knew it like the back of his hand. He had poured his heart and his soul into writing it and then perfecting it for live performances. He knew exactly how to hit every single note. He knew how to hit the high notes without his voice cracking and he knew how to hit the lowest notes without it sounding strained He had practiced for hours on end - sometimes to the point where his throat was raw and his voice was scratchy -to make it sound beautiful every time that he sang it live.

You know this for a fact. Even though you weren’t close during Harry Styles: Live On Tour, he had complained about how he could never get ‘Sign Of The Times’ right. About how he felt like he wasn’t doing his best and that he would disappoint because he just couldn’t hit those pesky high notes on stage. You heard the way that his voice would go scratchy, how he would sound like he was fighting to swallow correctly, how he sounded like he was severely dehydrated even if he drank bottle after bottle of water.

It had been over three years since he had last performed it on tour, and you had to admit, you were worried that he would mess something up. Not because you didn’t think he could do it, you know that he can. You know that he’s perfectly capable of getting everything right every single time. It’s more so because you know if he messes this up, he’ll make himself feel awful for the rest of the show. And what’s not helping his case is the fact that he’s stressed out about the mere thought of not hitting the right notes.

Here he was, the first show of the tour. He looked ethereal on stage. The lights were shining from behind him and making him look purely angelic. There’s already sweat soaking his hair and dripping onto his forehead. You can’t help but admire him like this, when he looks like he has absolutely nothing to hide, like he’s having the time of his life.

This show is also the first one that he would be singing the song at, and you could tell from the very first high note he tried to hit that he would be down on himself after the show. You feel your heart sink to your stomach, hating the fact that there’s nothing that you can do to help him get through this song without there being any mishaps.

The first time that his voice cracks, you visibly grimace, knowing what’s going on in his head. Knowing the self degrading thoughts that are whirling through his brain at a million miles per hour.

Your thoughts were only confirmed when he looked over at you. You can already see the self loathing overtaking his features, the way that his face isn’t as bright anymore.

You know that he’s calling himself everything he can think of. That he’s fighting the urge to stop, to give up and call off the whole thing. You know that he’s being more malicious to himself in this moment than he ever has been to anyone else. You’ve heard the things that he tells himself aloud as he’s getting undone from the show in the dressing room enough times to know exactly what he’s thinking.

“How did I mess something so simple up that bad?”

“I shouldn’t even be performing.”

“This is going to ruin the show. All these people are going to have a horrible night and it’s all my fault.”

“I’m so fucking pathetic.”

“Nobody’s here to see me fuck it all up.”

“Can’t I do anything right?”

You want to run on the stage, to hug him and let him know that every thought he’s having is incorrect. You want to reassure him, tell him that he’s perfect, that one wrong note doesn’t mean that he’s awful. Everything in you wants to take him away from this moment, to get his mind off of it. There’s no way for you to do that, though, and the both of you know that.

You also know that the reason he’s not looking at you nearly as much as he normally does is because each time he does, it makes it harder to stay on that stage when he could be in the comfort and safety of your arms.

After the song’s over, he looks over at you again and gives you a small, sad smile. You know that he’s hurting inside, that he’s beating himself up. Unfortunately for the both of you, he had just started the concert less than two hours ago. He’d be there for at least two more.

The moment the encore is over, he’s rushing off the stage and flinging himself in your arms.

“Hey baby.” You greet him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You run your hands through his sweaty hair.

“Need you love.” He brokenly whimpers. You instinctively hold him closer. A few people come over to congratulate him about the show, but they can tell by the state that he’s in that he’s not really up to talking much.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” If you thought your heart was hurt due to this before, it was shattered now, ripped into a million little pieces by the tears that begin to fall onto your skin. “Come on, let’s go to our room. Is that alright, darling?”

He pulls back enough to wipe his eyes and say a vague goodbye and thank you to the crew. The moment that the two of you are in the elevator, however, he’s right back in your arms. He clearly needs to be held right now, and there’s nothing that you’d rather do than comfort him.

Before long, the lift comes to a halt and the doors slide open.

You pull away slightly but still keep his hand in yours. You lead him to the hotel room and swipe the keycard. The moment that you’re inside the room, he lets out a broken sob that you know he’s probably been holding for the duration of the show.

You immediately pull him into your arms and let his weight fall into you. Slowly, as to not disturb him too much, you back up to the bed so that you can lay with him and properly give him the cuddles that he needs.

Once the back of your knees hit the mattress, you let yourself fall back. You’re still holding onto him, so he comes toppling down on you, but you don’t mind. You both shuffle slightly to get comfortable, and you think that his sobs are getting a little quieter. You’re proven wrong, however, when he buries his head into your neck again and fresh tears wet your skin.

You run one hand through his hair while the other rubs circles into his back. “Shh, it’s okay baby. Let it all out.”

He takes a deep breath and you can hear the shake that finds its way into the sound. You grip him tighter and try to make him feel as safe as he possibly can.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You mumble as you press a kiss to his head.

“I’m so pathetic.” He cries, and your heart breaks again.

“No you’re not, H. You’re not even close to pathetic.” You try to soothe him, although you know that there’s no way just that fixed anything

“Y/N, it’s the simplest song. I’ve had that song for years and I still mess it up? That’s pretty pathetic.” he struggles to get the words out but you know exactly what he’s saying. It’s the same thing that he’s been convincing himself to think every time that he so much as messes up a single note in ‘Sign Of The Times’.

“Harry, listen to me.” You pause and wait for him to lift his head and meet your eyes. Once he does, you continue. “It’s not your easiest song. It’s one of your hardest. Please realize that anyone would mess up that song. You did amazing.” You continue to run your hand through his hair and he leans further into your touch. “You’re amazing. Please remember that baby.”

“I’ll try. It’s just hard sometimes.” He mumbles.

“I know. I just want you to be happier with yourself.” You move your hand so that it’s cupping his cheek and begin to run the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’m sorry.” He pulls away slightly.

You grab onto him to keep him from moving any further. “Hey, why are you apologizing?”

He shrugs. “Feel like I let you down.”

“Baby, you didn’t let me down. I’m so proud of you!” You pull him back into you and he falls into your arms.

“Promise?”

You smile. “Promise.”

Thank you so much for reading!! Remember to reblog to share with others!!

Permanent Taglist - @spidey-reids-2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @akila-stilinski , @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart, @slytherinambitious, @miraclesoflove @quaksonhehe, @dummiesshort, @sleepybesson, @sunshine96love, @itstaskeen, @wotamelonsugar, @fallingfordolans, @missleahlin, @urbandcal, @5-seconds-of-mendes,

Harry Styles Taglist - @alwayshave-faith, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @sucker-09 @just-chillin-out-in-me-box, @xo-spidey, @shawnieeboyy,

#Zoey Writes #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #Harry Styles #The View From Both Sides of the Mirror #2020 #i wanna love queue with the lights on

337 notes · View notes

jwritesandrambles · 3 years ago

Text

“Supposed to Be”

Hi there! Yeah I still barely use tumblr but hey lookit I did the wrote thing down!!!!

I would like to give a bit thank you to @schweeeppess and @dragonsworn05 for editing my messy dyslexic rambles. @noroomforcream and @just-a-little-in-over-my-head did some really cool art for this!

(if I missed tagging someone, it’s not personal I appreciate you so much, I’m just posting in a rush mwauh)

Jason was back in Gotham. For the second time since he died, actually.

The last time hadn’t gone well. Technically, it had gone according to plan--for the most part--but Jason was still shambling together the broken pieces of his mind. Back then in December, all that was left of Jason were the shards of hurt and anger. He had been living for nothing but the idea of someone else’s death. Coming back to the real world, away from the sheltered and hidden places of the League of Shadows and the All-Caste, seemed to bring a bit of him back. Seeing Bruce, talking to him…everything that went down, and the reminder that he cared about him--loved him, even--it woke something up in Jason. Something that he thought had died along with him and never came back.

He had spent a year by himself, taking any mercenary jobs he could get, trying to find something other than the all consuming anger that had fuelled him for the past few years, but his travels didn’t matter now, as he stood in a back alley of Gotham, the protective red helmet tucked under his arm. He wished his replacement, Tim Drake, hadn’t chosen this particular alley to meet up in.

The balcony and rickety old fire escape were unforgettable to Jason. It was where he had met the Bat, after trying to jack the tires off one of those many damn expensive cars that Bruce had. Not only where it began, but where he once thought it would end. It was only a year ago he had stood, gun trained on Bruce, the man he had, for a time, called father. His voice shook and tears rolled down his cheeks, “it would be so easy to kill you.”

Jason was ripped from his reminiscing as a soft thud signaled that Red Robin had landed behind him. Jason flinched more than he’d like to admit, but fought the urge to draw his weapon. Quick reflexes was a nice way of saying jumpy.

“Hood,” The teen greeted.

“Replacement,” Jason said with a nod, echoing Tim’s tone back at him, relaxing.

“Weren’t you a replacement too?” Tim pointed out, seeming to take no offence.

Jason shrugged, “True. I’m not denying it. Just as long as you know that’s probably what B expects. Another Grayson,” he mumbled.

Sure, he was less angry than before, but that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t a bitter son of a bitch.

Tim bit the inside of his lip, an awkward and slightly uncomfortable look on the visible part of his face. It flickered away and was replaced with a more professional, neutral expression as he cleared his throat.

“Yes... well... We’re here for a job so let’s focus. You got all the information B sent you?” He was honestly trying his best, but he was hesitant about this mission. Could anyone blame him? Jason Todd had proven himself to be... volatile. The memories of Jason’s violence were all too fresh in Tim’s mind.

“Yeah, I got it. I read the file over,” he mumbled. He puffed out a weak breath, “Scarecrow set up a chemical mixing shop by the docks, at least one shipment has come in, but we can expect more, right? Anything I missed?” Jason asked, rummaging through his coat pockets.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He had been trying to quit, but he didn’t want to be getting distracted with cravings while trying to focus on the mission.

Tim watched him quietly as he lit off, smelling the tobacco from up on his perch.

“Um... yes, that’s all,” the teen dragged his teeth along the edge of his lip. The skin felt slightly raw and sore from his empty minded nibbling.

Jason started walking off down the alley, leaving a slight trail of lingering smoke in damp air. Tim followed.

“So,” Jason pulled the cigarette from his lips, careful not to let his helmet slip from under his arm. He held it between his first and second fingers, “Uh.. Why’d you have us meet here instead of anywhere closer to the docks?” He asked, trying to break the awkwardly growing silence.

“Scarecrow has patrols circulating around the docks. We’re less likely to be spotted if we’re not waiting around there to meet up,” Tim explains with a little shrug.

Jason hummed a brief note of understanding, “Oh yeah, that makes sense. I’m, uh, I haven’t worked with anyone in... years,” Jason paused, taking another drag from the smouldering cigarette, “Y’know, really nothing team oriented since working with B. Even then I was a shitty teammate,” he laughed hollowly.

Tim nodded, thinking about what Jason’d just said. Had it really been that long? Maybe… maybe the fact that Jason was even admitting to being a bad teammate didn’t bode well. It could mean trouble for them later. If it was so obvious that even Jason could admit it, perhaps Tim shouldn’t have done this team-up.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tim ran to catch up to Jason quickly, “Wait... how old are you?” He asked upon reaching him.

“I’m t- uh... hold on, well... how long was I gone?” He asked Tim in return.

“You were thought to be dead for five years,” Tim told him, in a tone like he was reciting a Wikipedia page written about the formally deceased, wayward Wayne boy. Now that Jason thought of it, he was certain Bruce had a file written up on him now. Bruce had written up for every major criminal in Gotham city.

Jason let out a low whistle and soft huff, “I must be… twenty one now? Weird.”

“So... you didn't know how old you were till now?” Tim raised a brow, causing the mask to shift.

“Yeaahh,” Jason drew the word out sarcastically, pretending to took him deep thought to reconcile. “Somethin’ about the severe head trauma, dying, comin’ back, and being isolated from the normal world for years, all while being a wreck the whole time seems to have made my memory a lil’ fuzzy,” Jason said with a wry, sarcastic smile.

Tim seethed silently, letting out a series of apologetic mumbles, eyes dropping to ground ahead of him- it was a tactless and rude thing to ask, and Tim should’ve known that!

Jason laughed weakly, hand quickly coming up towards him and... ruffled Tim’s hair? The boy hadn’t even had a chance to recoil. He was just confused; that was the last thing he’d expect from Jason.

The man stubbed out his cigarette and lumbered on ahead of Tim, dropping it in the trash, “Don’t worry about it, kid. I was just being a bitch, you’re fine.”

Tim opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. A man who tried to kill him only a year ago had just ruffled his hair?! He decided not to comment on it, because-- after all--what the hell could he even say?

Tim cleared his throat again, “We should get into position, we’re almost there. Maybe get your, uh, helmet-thingy on?” He suggested.

Jason glanced at the helmet- he’d almost forgotten he had it tucked under his arm.

“Yeah, of course,” Jason said, lifting his helmet and plunking it on his head, “good reminder, Timbers.” His voice became modulated the second the helmet covered his head. His low, gravely, smokers growl of a voice, was nowhere near and deep and gravely as Bruce’s--but sounded like it took a step closer with every box of cigarettes--became a pitch lower still. An odd robotic twang edged his words, giving him a metallic, cyber sound.

Tim adjusted his own mask, making sure it was firmly in place before nodding to Jason. The two silently started up again, approaching a warehouse that was supposed to be locked until the next morning’s shipment. “Supposed to be” being the operative words. Instead, there was muted huffing and shuffling as two of Scarecrow’s workers uncomfortably hauled a large crate into the building.

Both Jason and Tim seemed to shrink into the shadows at the same instant; each becoming one with the wall. Jason drew his weapon quietly, earning a disapproving frown from Tim. “I’m not gonna kill them. Chill,” Jason whispered in that odd robotic voice.

Tim seemed satisfied enough to quit pouting at Jason. They crept closer, making little dashes between hiding spots when the coast was clear.

Jason let out a breath of curse as his eyes fell about the giant, glass, canister. It was filled with a bubbling, sickly, arsenic green substance.

“No way, that shit is all fear toxin? Fuck! He’s got enough to blast the entire downtown!” His voice came through in a synthesized hiss.

“Worse.” Tim whispered, spying the large pressurizer on top of the glass container. “That’s just the liquid form. When he releases it, it’ll be gaseous. If it’s released from the container from a high vantage point, a small breeze could cover the entire city in minutes.”

The severity of the situation washed over what little of Tim’s features were visible from beneath the mask.

This wasn’t just a quick little in and out operation anymore. One wrong move and there could have a small, yet very messy, catastrophic outcome.

Tim had to plan this carefully, because there was no way they could afford to mess this up.

He turned to Jason...or, rather, where Jason had just been seconds before.

Jason had evidently had a similar train of thought to Tim’s. He’d realized this was a serious situation, though, instead of drawing the conclusion to re-evaluate, re-plan, and carry on with caution, or something sensible-- he seemingly forgot any sense of subtlety he had. Oh, God forbid carefully thinking his actions out, like any sane rational person would do. Or calling for backup, like anyone with a vague semblance of self-preservation. No no, instead, Jason had decided it was best to act now and not waste a second with plans or any ideas of safety. He jumped into action.

Jason was already leaping over the crate the two vigilantes had been hiding behind seconds ago, as Tim let out a quiet imploring hiss of “Wait--oh no-”“ but it was too late.

Jason already had his gun drawn.

“Scarecrow!” he yelled, “this ends now!” He fired at the box the two workers were carrying, sending it out of their hands and clattering to the floor. A series of shattering followed the initial crash as the contents shattered. Whatever chemicals that had been inside hissed loudly, a faint smoke rising from between the boards of the wooden box.

“Hood!?” The Scarecrow rounded to face who he knew as the ex-criminal, ‘The Red Hood.’

“In the flesh.” Jason kept his gun trained on Scarecrow, while a third worker who had been off to the side started to shuffle his way towards him.

“Thought you moved your little operation away from Gotham when the Bats got the better of you,” Scarecrow commented, not seeming pleased about the interruption at all.

Scarecrow’s worker lunged at Jason. Tim kicked himself mentally and left hiding, kicking the worker --physically, not mentally this time-- back away from Jason. The third worker scuttled back, apparently deciding this altercation was above his pay grade.

Jason felt something he hadn’t really felt in a long time; it was a feeling akin to camaraderie. He had someone watching his back for once. If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, he might have even cracked a smile. Or, rather, he might have felt a slight tug at the corner of his lips, at least.

“Well, yeah, the bats did get the best of me. Now I’m tryna give them my best. And that involves bootin’ your sorry ass out of here.”

“Quick witted, aren’t you?” Scarecrow tensed slightly. His eyes darted away from behind his mask for a moment. He was glancing to the side. Tim followed his gaze over to the-

Shit! The canister! If the bullet missed Scarecrow it would-

Tim knew what scarecrow was thinking, but it was too late.

“NO!” Tim shouted, helplessly watching as Scarecrow dove.

As expected, Jason pulled the trigger reflexively, but the Scarecrow had already ducked. The bullet made a resounding bang as it fired, hitting the large gas canister.

Tim seized up, every nerve buzzing, every muscle tensed, every fibre of his being filled with an awful sinking sensation. The room was deadly-still. It was like something written by the hand of a fool-hardy novelist, who was paid far too much for over-the-top paperbacks; The bullet had embedded itself in the glass, acting like a stopper. A sickening series of cracks emanated from the canisters, as a thin spidery web formed across the glass. All tendrils originating from where the bullet hit.

Jason let out a low whistle, “Well. That coulda been disastrous.”

Tim couldn’t help but feel relieved, a stressed laugh escaping his lips.

Scarecrow was scampering away, his workers already having pulled a quick disappearing act themselves, because, this wasn’t what he’d planned.

“Don’t even think about it, Crane,” Jason said as he turned, taking a heavy step.

Said heavy step was apparently too much. The glass gave a shuttering groan, followed by a small hiss as gas began to leak.

Tim made an involuntary distressed sound. Something akin to an exhausted sigh mixed with a whimper.

The one word that ever so eloquently graced Jason’s lips was, “Fuck.”

And the canister...

Burst.

The pressure placed on the glass had built up and could no longer hold.

Jason’s final step had been the breaking point, the spider work of cracks along the glass giving way with a great shatter.

Shards of the canister flung themselves across the room. The liquid that had been held within instantly began vaporizing into a thick, sickening gas. To anyone that had the misfortune of inhaling it, it felt as though the gas was trying --with every atom of its existence-- to choke the life out of its victim. It reached into their lungs, clawed at their insides, grabbing at their desperately beating hearts, and squeezed. It forced their brain to fill their body with adrenaline and hallucinogens. Tim knew this.

He’d studied the Scarecrow’s fear toxin many times. He’d been exposed to it before, too. Tim knew this fear and knew he was helpless to do anything about it.

Tim was helpless to stop this. He had failed. He’d failed Bruce. He’d failed this mission. Because he was weak. He was weak, helpless, hopeless, a failure, a burden, unwanted. He was nothing more than a replaceable replacement. No one would care if he was gone, God, it’s not like anyone would ever notice! He was a forgettable nothing. Tim coughed and wheezed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

Tim staggered. He tripped over his feet trying to get away from the intense fear that gripped his throat. Tim realized something physical was gripping his neck. The thing dragged him back roughly, towards what he could only assume was something horrid. Tim clawed at the thing gripping his throat. As he gasped for shuddering breath, he couldn’t help but begin to sob. He was going to die. He would die and no one would care. No one would even try to find him when he didn’t come home, they wouldn’t even notice because he was worthless, replaceable, weak, failure, helpless!

A new level of fear washed over Tim as he felt something cover his face, it encased his head. Tim could feel it squeeze his skull, he swore the pressure felt tight enough to crush his cranium like a tin can. It was claustrophobic. He felt his own shallow breath bounce back against his lips, because it had nowhere else to go. He was trapped and suffocating.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t BREATHE! OH--oh, oh no... no? Wait a moment... he COULD breathe.

Tim took a moment to try to get his bearings. He needed to remember how his lungs worked. He awkwardly sucked in a breath of filtered, recycled air. It tasted tinny on his tongue. Tim blinked the tears from his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks, and he became aware of the taste of salt too. There was the faint scent of stale tobacco and smoke. His mind was reeling as he processed each detail. He dragged tongue over his lips nervously, and began to chew at his bottom lip. Tim’s heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking. He raised his hands to feel his head, glancing at his twitching fingers as they passed in front of his face, confusedly. Everything had a red tinge to it. He pressed his hands to his head, feeling a hard smooth surface.

Tim’s brain felt slow and groggy, taking a moment to clue into what was on his head. Was it Jason’s helmet? Yes, yes it was Jason’s helmet, that was certain, but where was Jason?

The thick gas still hung in a green fog, but the helmet seemed to be filtering the worst of it out. Tim swept his arm though the air, watching the gas clear slightly, before swooping in to fill the gaps. Tim knew he needed to thin this stuff out if he wanted to have any hope in finding Jason before tripping over him. He rushed through the room, feeling his way over to the door. Scarecrow’s men had closed it, containing them --and more importantly the gas-- inside. Small mercy the fear toxin wasn’t being released on the city though.

Tim dragged his fingers along the wall. His senses were so heightened that it was almost overstimulating. It was likely due to the toxin, Tim guessed. He could still feel the rough brick as he scraped along, even through the tips of his gloves. It was oddly reassuring. A steady constant he could focus on until -thunk- His hand bumped into a smooth metallic protrusion from the wall. Exactly what Tim had been looking for.

“Bingo.”

Tim swept his other arm through the air again, doing his best to fan the gass away for him to get a bit of a better view of what he was hoping to see. A metal switch box, old and slightly rusted around the edges. Tim had been counting on any wearhouse by the docks having a ventilation system to keep the products safe from humidity. Of course, he was right. With some difficulty, Tim wrenched the switch box open. After straining to read faded, dusty labels through the gas in the air, he flipped what he hoped was the right switch.

There was a small whine of aching metal that hadn’t moved in a long time and Tim cracked into a grin underneath the helmet.

He’d done it!

The fans kicked into a regular pace. The smooth ‘whoomp whoomp whoomp’ of turning blades filled Tim with a sense of muted triumph. The foggy haze of fear gas began to thin as the building began to filter it out, mixing it with the humid air. Tim figured it would be condensed and drip out to puddle with the dirty water in the alley behind the warehouse. If Tim was right, which he usually was, it wouldn’t harm anyone unless they decided to drink from the puddle water. Which was unlikely, but not impossible. It was Gotham after all.

Tim looked around the room as the gas dissipated. His gaze found its way to a shaking heap on the floor next to the shattered remains of the canister he had been standing before. The proud grin faded from Tim’s lips.

That... that wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Hey, um, hood? Red hood, status?” He asked, the words felt strange as they left his mouth. Hearing his own modulated voice echo slightly in the room felt vaguely surreal.

The heap of muscle and leather known as Jason didn’t reply.

Seeing Jason’s twitching body on the floor emptied a hollow pit in Tim’s stomach. Jason had never seemed like he was even capable of fear. Capable of rage, capable of hurt, and capable of pain, sure, but fear seemed like something Tim would’ve assumed Jason was beyond. Something so... innate, that the unnatural nature of Jason’s second life would’ve swept it away.

Tim made his way over, hesitantly rolling the helmet forward off his head. The fear toxin seemed to be thin enough now that it wasn’t harming him.

“Ja-er, Jason?” Tim’s soft voice seemed thunderously loud in the quiet room. The only other sounds around were the fans quietly whirring away and, far more disturbingly in his opinion, the even quieter shaking breaths and distressed whimpering tumbling from Jason’s lips.

Jason was not in good shape. He was shaking violently, hands over his head. His whimpers were punctuated by violent spasms that racked his body every few seconds, accompanied with a louder more pronounced cry.

Tim felt the colour drain from his face. He quickly kneeled down, setting the helmet on the concrete floor next to them both with a slight clink. Tim grabbed Jason’s arm, trying to turn him on to his back. Jason heftily flailed the arm Tim pulled, unintentionally hitting Tim in the face. Tim yelped in surprise as a sharp pain sprung from his nose, warm liquid leaking down his face. The blood pouring down his face didn’t deter Tim much, the blood coursing through him seeming to do the opposite for pain as it did the rest of his senses. The pain was slightly numbed--or, rather, it had become easy to ignore. He fought to wrangle both of Jason’s arms, quickly scrambling to sit on Jason’s torso, struggling to pin Jason’s arms down with his legs.

Tim took off his mask. He knew it was against protocol, but an un-obscured face was easier to recognize when the toxin took hold, in Tim’s experience.

“Jason? Jason, look at me. Can you hear me?” he asked quickly, holding on to Jason’s shoulders. He desperately hoped Jason wouldn’t throw him off. Jason’s eyes were unfocused, spinning around wildly all over the room.

Tim tried to process Jason’s words, “No, not again, ple--I can’t I--it hurts! Fuck! It hurts,” Jason’s words became incomprehensible for a moment, then his fists clenched tightly. “I don’t want to die! Not again. Not again not again not again! He’s gotta come save me, take me home, he’s gotta! Shit, not again!“ he choked and broke off with a shout and another full body jerk.

Tim was jostled but didn’t fall off, by some miracle. “Jason!” he tried. “Listen to me!” Tim put his hands on either of Jason’s face. Jason flinched away from Tim’s touch with a sob of “It hurts, it hurts, I can hear all my bones snapping, I’m dying, it’s crushing me, I can’t--I can’t--”

“I know,” Tim cut him off gently, “I know it hurts and--and you’re scared, but you’re not alone, I’m right here. I’m going to help you,” Tim tried to catch Jason’s focus.

Jason’s roaming eyes stopped dodging around the room, and turned towards Tim. He kept looking from Tim’s shoulders, Tim’s chest, back up to his face and then to his eyes and back to his chest again. Perhaps not the ideal image of calming down but it was a first step.

“Good,” Tim praised softly in relief. He ran his thumbs over Jason’s cheeks gently. Now more so than ever did Tim take notice of the scars on either side of Jason’s face. On Jason’s left cheek, there was a jagged line that traced from his cheek bone down to his jaw. A similar yet smaller one was mirrored on Jason’s right. Tim could understand why Jason flinched from him. He shook the thought from his mind, “See? We’re okay. Just try to breathe, in and out. You can do that, right, Jason?”

“No! No! I c-can’t, I’m crushed, I can’t. My--my lungs, they’re all full of blood, and mud, and dirt, and fuckin’ I dunno what!” Another violent thrash went through Jason’s body, almost toppling Tim off this time. “I can’t breathe, it hurts! I want it to stop hurting! How do I make it stop!?”

“Uah--yeah, I know it hurts, but I promise nothing is crushing you. It’s just me, I’m light, and I’m here and I--I know it hurts I’m going to try to make it stop but I need to--” Jason thrashed, but Tim didn’t relinquish his hold on him, “--but I NEED you to stay still!”

Jason’s eyes finally locked on to Tim’s, “M-make it s-stop?” he echoed back to the smaller vigilante.

“Yeah, yeah I’m going to try to make it stop.” Tim slowly pulled his hands away from Jason, sitting back slightly, starting to fish through the many pockets and pouches attached to the strap around his waist.

He almost always had the antidote on hand. Bruce had trained him and prepared him meticulously, making certain that Tim would be ready with everything they had at all costs. The only issue was it was enough antidote for him; almost seventeen, about a head shorter and ninety pounds lighter--nowhere near enough antitoxin for the two hundred and forty pounds of murder that was the shaking mass of Jason Todd slumped before him.

Jason dropped his head back against the concrete floor, beginning to mutter once again.

“My fault. All my fault. I can’t--all dead.”

“No one is dead, Jason, everyone is okay,” Tim said, soon after feeling a small surge of triumph as he located his field fear toxin antidote kit. He opened it, quickly pulling out a small vial, and a syringe.

Jason’s eyes snapped to the syringe in Tim’s hand as he filled with antidote. Jason grew quiet for a second before starting to try to fight Tim off of him, “No, no no no no no no! Don’t go! don’t go! Not again, I can’t be alone, can’t be asleep he’s gonna kill us. Dad said he’ll get rid’f his mistakes!”

Tim knew Bruce wouldn’t have ever threatened Jason like that. He could only assume Jason meant his biological father.

“Said he would--don’t, don’t! It’s crushing me I can’t be alone!” Jason couldn’t keep hold of his own fears. They ran together, all mixed in to become some dread filled nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Tim was lucky Jason was so sloppy in this state. If he’d had a bit more of his wits about him, Tim figured Jason would’ve easily shaken him off already.

“You aren’t alone!” Tim reminded Jason, struggling to inject Jason without hurting him. “This is going to make it stop, I promise!” Well, that wasn’t fully true. But the dose would reduce it.

When Jason wouldn’t hold still enough for him to properly gauge where the vein he needed was, Tim unceremoniously jabbed at where he hoped it was instead.

Jason shouted, thrashing around like a heavy shark in a net being lifted out of water.

Tim pulled the empty syringe away quickly, letting Jason throw him off. He stumbled and crashed back down, landing on the concrete floor a few feet away. Tim only now realized how heavy his breath was as he watched Jason writhe freely on the floor before him. As Tim caught his breath, Jason’s movements gradually began to slow. The mutterings of fear faded into soft whimpers, then into deep breaths like Tim’s. Tim bit at his lip again. “Jason?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Jason groaned in response. He took a moment to collect himself as he grew conscious of reality again. Really, reality was a shit hole too, but it was a better shit hole. He shifted slightly, cussing under his breath.

Tim felt an invisible weight lift from his shoulders; swearing like a sailor was promising in Jason’s case.

He quickly scooted across the floor to him.

“Hey,” Tim said in a hushed voice. “Jason? How you feeling?”

Jason--with what felt like the struggle of Sisyphus rolling his boulder for the millionth time--rolled over to face him. The white shock of hair stuck to Jason’s forehead with panic induced sweat. He puffed out a lungful of air in a feeble attempt to blow the hair from his face. Jason swiftly gave up on that and swallowed heavily.

“I-I... yeah, yeah, I uh... I--okay. I’m feeling okay,” Jason rambled, looking dazed. He took up scanning the room again, hyper-vigilant to any danger.

Tim nodded slowly. He grabbed a water bottle that was shoved in one of his many pouches. He helped Jason sit up, just enough so he could sip at the water, and forced the bottle into Jason’s hands.

“Drink,” Tim ordered, quietly.

Jason’s hands still shook lightly, causing him to fumble with the cap in his hands.

Now that the danger had passed, Tim finally had time to process what had happened; he often found himself acting and only having time to absorb the details afterwards. Details like that Jason had traded his safety and immunity for Tim’s.

Why did Jason do that?

“Not... that I’m ungrateful,” Tim began hesitantly, “but that was a stupid thing to do, just… now- today,” he stumbled out awkwardly.

“I know,” gasped Jason after a long chug of water, a weak smile on his lips.

“I mean--it’s like in those before flight messages on planes. Put your mask on before the baby’s or whatever,” Tim joked slightly. Tim’s nose wrinkled slightly, cringing just the tiniest bit as he realized he implied he was the baby in this situation, “Well, you know what I’m getting at…”

Jason seemed to only take even more amusement out of the teen’s regret. Tim never thought he’d see the day where he felt tension draining at the sigh of Jason Todd, a man that tried to kill him and about eighty other people, smiling.

Jason laughed weakly, though it came out a little haltingly, as the shivering shakes hadn’t yet subsided. “Yeah, well, I d-did have my mask on. I just... gave it to the k-kid before the plane went down,” he mused. He didn’t really believe in his own point, and shook his head.

“No, no you’re right. It was stupid and I know that.”

They fell into a slightly awkward silence for a second, the burning question still gnawing at Tim’s mind.

“Why?” Tim said, abruptly. “Er, why did you do that? If you knew it was stupid?”

Jason didn’t answer for a long moment. Instead stalling by taking another swig of water. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before answering.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted, with a little smile.

Jason was breathing heavily, but seemed more focused, “I didn’t... really think. Maybe I was just makin’ up for other stuff I f-fucked up or... dunno. I guess I j-just... I knew if one of us was gonna be safe, it had to be y-ou.”

Jason swore he could practically see the little loading sign twirl in Tim’s nerd-brain as the teen processed what he’d said. The mental loading bar filled, and Jason’s words seemed to click. Tim’s eyes dropped away, and he smiled a little shyly. Not an awkward or uncomfortable smile. Just complimented.

“Thanks,” Tim’s voice was just above a whisper, “ that was... really nice of you.”

“It’s okay, don’t men-ention it. Like literally ever. It’ll ruin my rep,” Jason cracked a teasing smirk once again and Tim got to his feet laughing lightly.

“Annnnddd he’s back to normal,” Tim chuckled and offered Jason a hand. Tim yanked him, not without obvious difficulty, up to stand tall. Jason leaned on him for a moment before straightening, keeping a hand on Tim’s shoulder to steady himself. Tim quickly bent down and scooped up their masks from the floor where he’d set them down.

“Let’s get you home,” Tim hummed, putting Jason’s arm around his shoulders again when he stood.

“Hey, I’m fin-ne, you don’t have to take me back,” Jason argued, but Tim was already starting to lead him away.

“Too bad, I decided I am.”

“Rep-placement Robin number whatever you are--I am fine!”

“Sure you are, that’s why you can’t stand up right by yourself?”

“Shut up!”

“I speak only truth.”

The two bickered all the way back through away from the docks. All the way back through the city. All the way until they reached Jason’s apartment complex. Then they bickered some more. Though neither knew it yet, what had begun forming was the beginning of a close bond. One that nothing would be able to break.

#batman #robin #jason todd #redhood #red hood #Tim Drake #red robin #batfam big bang 2021 #Just for Fun #idk how tumblr works

27 notes · View notes

today-only-happens-once · 4 years ago

Text

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are. Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile. Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp #virgil sanders #percy jackson au #pjo!au #fighting #weapons #violence #found family? in my fics? its more likely than you think #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

411 notes · View notes

in-tua-deep · 4 years ago

Note

20 for Vanya?

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

I have a lot of what-ifs and alternate timelines for Vanya lmao, especially ones that prevent the apocalypse because I’m a sucker for a happy ending tbh

What if Vanya was included? Why not? Klaus’s powers weren’t useful for missions, Allison’s story for Claire was literally like “yeah Klaus got distracted by ghosts in the background lol” so it’s not like a kid without offensive powers couldn’t do it

you have rebellious Vanya aus, where she decides, like some neglected children do, so act out. If her father isn’t going to acknowledge anything good about her, she’s going to make him acknowledge the bad. Punishment might be the only time he pays attention to her, after all.

(let’s call this an au where the pills suppress her powers but not so much her emotions)

So you have an au where she sneaks out and joins the missions. She breaks into the mausoleum and picks Klaus up and stares her father down with a challenge in her eyes.

Five vanishes, and Vanya gets worse. She plays her violin at 2 in the morning. She refuses to eat her broccoli. she teams up with diego to see who can piss dad off the most

(her and Diego actually get along very well in this sort of au, honestly)

Vanya gets out and plays the violin and gets angry. She plays with fury and fire and gets second chair, because Helen is actually really very good. But she makes Helen work for it. Helen isn’t secure in her position, she always knows that Vanya is a step away from taking it from her

and maybe that should make them enemies, but it doesn’t. They’re rivals. Helen respects the hell out of Vanya, and Vanya can’t help but admire the woman who makes the most difficult pieces look effortless

(RIVALS TO LOVERS: VIOLIN EDITION)

Vanya writes her book. Except she kicks down Diego’s boiler room door and is like “DIEGO”

“WHAT”

“I WANT TO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HOW MUCH DAD FUCKING SUCKS”

“I’LL BE RIGHT THERE”

as one of the rebel kids, Vanya actually got along well with Klaus as well since she helped him sneak out and 100% also smoked at least some weed with him because it would piss off Reggie tbh though she didn’t get into the harder drugs like he did

(showing up absolutely plastered to breakfast when they were sixteen was hilarious even if the laps they had to run around the block were not)

anyway Klaus crashes at her apartment sometimes, with supervision, because she loves Klaus but he has a problem and has stolen from her before but he’s still her brother but regardless

Klaus-Diego-Vanya sleepovers where they brainstorm the book to shit talk their father. Honestly it’s kind of a blast. They all get super wine drunk and end up watching Mary Poppins together with some Very Loud Opinions about nannies in general tbh

klaus throwing popcorn at the screen: BOO WHY WAS OUR CHILDHOOD NOT A MUSICAL???

diego: idk if you can have cheery musicals about child soldiers

vanya: i mean if they can have a musical about child labor in factories and the starvation of the workers in oliver twist you could do something with child superheroes

klaus: EXACTLY thank you vanya

they publish the book (luther is uNHAPPY, vanya dedicates her book to ‘all my siblings who survived the Reginald Regime but especially those who didn’t’, and she gifts Reggie a copy that says “fuck you lol” and is signed by her, diego, and klaus), they continue living, they go to the funeral when reggie kicks the bucket

and then five shows up, feral and aching

and five tells vanya about the apocalypse, and vanya thinks about their father saying time travel messed with the mind, and then she thinks - fuck the old man he was wrong about her (ordinary, fuck that, she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves) and he was probably wrong about Five, too

and Five is wholeheartedly believed

“Let me call Diego,” Vanya says when Five tells her about the eye, “I bet he could totally wear a police uniform and get info about the eye. And if not, I’m absolutely sure Klaus could improvise a solution. He’s good at that.”

“Klaus??” Five asks, vaguely suspicious.

“We don’t talk about the Sleepover of 2012.” Vanya intones solemnly, and refuses to answer any further questions on the topic.

Harold Jenkins comes to the apartment and tries to woo Vanya or whatever, and Vanya is kind of like... “Look, Leonard. I can be your teacher for violin. It’s my job. But I am in a relationship. And also like, super gay. If you have a problem with that then I am not the teacher for you.”

Actually scratch Diego and Klaus getting called, which they do, Vanya looks at them and her thirteen year old brother and is like “wait. actually i know someone infinitely better to crack this case wide open.”

“Who?” Five, Klaus, and Diego all ask

“My girlfriend.” Vanya says proudly, called Helen up.

And Helen walks into the building like she’s at fucking war and has such demanding confidence that they just give her the information she seeks and apologize for inconveniencing her.

“Hey Vanya are we still on for date night tomorrow?” Helen casually asks after, and Five kind of wants to be her when he grows up honestly after watching her verbally eviscerate Lance or whatever the fuck his name is

“Yeah.” Vanya confirms, “Unless there’s other apocalypse stuff to do?”

“You take all the time you need, honey.” Helen says warmly, “After all the more time you take the less you have to practice.”

“I’m gonna destroy the concert piece and you know it.” Vanya threatens.

Helen sniffs, “Okay, whatever you say second chair.”

and then they kiss and Helen ditches and the others just kind of look at Vanya judgingly

“In fairness, she’s very hot and very talented.” Vanya defends herself.

Klaus nods sagely. Vanya nods back. He gets it.

“Concert piece?” Diego asks, because he has priorities.

“Yeah, I’ve already asked for tickets for all of you and you will be attending Diego.” Vanya smiles prettily with all her teeth.

“When is it?” Five asks

“April 1st.” Vanya tells him, “And no that isn’t an April Fools joke. You will attend and you will marvel at my skill. And maybe run interference between Helen and Allison because I’m kind of afraid they’re going to rip each others throats out to establish dominance.”

“That’s the day of the apocalypse.” Five informs her.

“Not on my goddamn watch.” Vanya says, because her family will attend her fucking concert and they will make awkward small talk with her girlfriend and the fucking apocalypse has better lay down and get over itself because nothing can stop Vanya’s goddamn plans

“I can investigate Meritech more.” Diego offers, because Lance-or-whatever-his-name-is is clearly shady as shit, “I have police contacts I could go through. Hey Vanya, your concert tickets include a plus one?”

“They can.” Vanya shrugs.

“Sweet, let me see if Patch can come.”

“She’s way too good for you, bro.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.”

Anyway the point is they all go home, and Diego goes to talk to his police contacts and Five is definitely at home for when Hazel and Cha-Cha attack the mansion, oops.

“Whomst the FUCK.” Vanya yells, kicking Hazel in the crotch because she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves she knows self defense thank you very much

“Ah.” Five says. “Hazel. How’s it going.”

“Just peachy.” Hazel wheezes, “Why’d you betray the Commission?”

“Well, you know. They cut the dental. That was really the last straw.” Five says, sarcastically.

“The dental.” Hazel echoes back, nodding very seriously, “I fucking know. You know physical therapy isn’t even covered anymore?”

“No shit?” Five says, “I mean you’d think with a job as physical as ours...”

“I know.” Hazel howls, vindicated.

“Five.” Vanya says, rolling her eyes, “The house?”

“Oh, right.” Five frowns, looking at Hazel, “I mean. Can you like, leave? And not come back?”

“‘Fraid not.” Hazel actually sounds somewhat apologetic, “You know what the Commission is like. They’re really gunning for you.”

Five nods, because really what did he expect, “Can you leave like, temporarily? I mean you’d pretty clearly outnumbered. I don’t even know where Cha-Cha is, but judging by the furious yelling she probably met our sister and brother and Luther is hard to kill. Trust me, if he wasn’t we would have killed him when we were like, eight. But for real, can you get out of our house? I mean. Storming the den? Seriously? What kind of information did they even give you?”

“They didn’t give us any information.” Hazel responds back, sounding appropriately outraged, “They didn’t even tell us you could teleport.”

“Well that’s just rude. You’d think they wanted you dead or something.” Five muses, “But seriously, get out of my house.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Hazel admits, and leaves, because honestly Hazel is chill like that and knows when he’s lost. And Hazel also has a lot to think about. Like the fact that the Commission sucks and doesn’t even have dental, and how pretty the donut lady is.

and Vanya is just like... okay. Weird. Is that going to happen again? Probably? I mean. Okay, this day has already been so goddamn weird. This week, honestly.

And they keep getting attacked by the Commission. And Vanya finds out someone broke into her apartment and stole her meds. What the fuck.

“Did your shitty assassin friends do this?” Vanya asks, waving an empty pill bottle.

“Why would they?” Five asks, honestly confused.

“Because they’re assholes?” Vanya says, honestly outraged.

“You got me there.” Five admits.

The combined forces of Diego-and-Patch (because Patch is actually thrilled that Diego is asking for help regarding an actual fucking crime) figure out that the eyeballs are being sold illegally

Klaus is not kidnapped so he’s fine, just tagging along and living his best life, however this also means that Klaus does not steal the briefcase and Hazel and Cha-Cha are fine

Vanya keeps Five close at hand because frankly she doesn’t want him to leave again and she did really miss him. Also if she does save the world she can lord it over Helen’s head forever.

And so Five is around when Vanya’s powers manifest, probably because they just got targeted by commission goons again because they’re trying real hard to kill five and separate Vanya

“Holy SHIT.” Five says, very intelligently, “You have POWERS.”

“Wow. Gonna have to write a fucking sequel to the shit-talking-dad book.” Vanya says, honestly a little light headed.

And then Vanya finds out her powers are sound based.

“Oh no.” Vanya says, “Where the fuck are my pills. I am not relearning how to play the violin with-powers a few days before the big concert Five, what the fuck.”

“But you need to learn to control them!” Five protests, “They’re your powers!”

“They’re a goddamn inconvenience is what they are.” Vanya states, “I mean, what am I going to do with them? Stop a bank robbery with the Umbrella Academy? Yeah, no thanks, that ship has sailed and sunk to the bottom of the ocean Titanic style. I’ll figure them out when I’m not in danger of blasting the audience halfway across the continent.”

“Yeah.” Five admits, “That’s fair.”

“Besides, if I’ve been on that shit as long as I have, and it’s been a long time, I cannot even IMAGINE what quitting cold turkey will do.” Vanya points out, very sensibly, like a siblings who has watched Klaus go through withdrawal symptoms more than once.

“Maybe there’s extra at the manor?” Five suggests, “Pogo probably knows.”

“Oh yeah I bet Pogo knows something.” Vanya mutters maybe a little bitterly.

They go back to the mansion and the Commission is honestly pulling their hair out tbh, and they ask Pogo who kind of pales and is like “UHHHH YES I CAN GET VANYA EXTRA PILLS” and goes to get them from whatever stash

“Fucking sweet.” Vanya whispers, entirely done with this situation, “The only adult male role model I had and he hid my powers from me and betrayed me. Love that for us.”

Five shrugs, “I mean, you’re right. All of our adult role models were all kinds of fucked up.”

“You vanished when we were 13.” Vanya says, “Didn’t you find like, any other adults ever?”

“Oh let me tell you about the Handler.” Five says, and proceeds to do just that. Because let’s be real, the Handler was the only human interaction Five had after forty odd years alone it was pretty damn important

Vanya, on the other hand, has strong plans to eviscerate the Handler should the two ever meet because Five deserved way better than to be forcibly made into an assassin?? honestly fuck that woman

that’s it that’s the au

Vanya finds out she has powers and is like “i have a LIFE i don’t want to interrupt it with bullshit POWERS,,, also going cold turkey off my meds seems like a bad idea if I don’t want to deal with withdrawal symptoms during my concert for fucks sake, my gf would never let me live it down if i skipped”

so vanya takes her meds, does NOT destroy the world, makes every one of her siblings go to the concert and even invites Hazel and Agnes after Hazel betrays Cha-Cha to join team No-Apocalypse.

and then introduces them all to her girlfriend

“Holy shit Vanya.” Helen deadpans, “Your family is all kinds of fucked up.”

“I know.” Vanya says, aggrieved, “It’s been a long fucking week. Want to go camping and help me figure out my cool sound based powers? Bet they’ll make me a better violin player than you.”

“I think the fuck not.” Helen hisses, always up for a challenge, “Let’s do this. Me and my violin vs. you and your dumb baby powers. You’re on.”

“FAMILY CAMPING TRIP.” Klaus hollers, with all the enthusiasm in his little heart.

“Holy shit this is going to be such a disaster, I just know it.” Diego mutters.

“Shut up, it’ll be nice.” Allison says, elbowing Diego with her pointy pointy elbows.

“It’s going to be a shitshow.” Vanya says serenely, because it is. That’s just who their family is.

Wouldn’t have it any other way, though

#rebel vanya au #vanya is a rebel with a cause #she's GAY she's got POWERS and she's NEW IN TOWN #vanya discovers her powers and is like 'nope no thank you' the au #i mean vanya was ALMOST like that in canon honestly #vanya and helen are enemies to lovers 500k slowburn orchestra au #vanya plays an extremely complicated piece flawlessly and then helen makes out with her in the concert hall broom closet #helen: i can't NOT fuck her #helen finds vanya's competence and confidence extremely sexy and it keeps her on her toes #vanya is honestly the same tbh with a side helping of 'my girlfriend can DESTROY you'#diego and vanya have matching 'reggie sux' friendship bracelets #allison would like to have a sibling relationship with vanya #allison: you could do better than helen #vanya: hell yeah I can i will wrench first chair away from her #helen: OVER MY DEAD BODY YOU WILL #vanya: I HAVE POWERS NOW JUST TRY ME #and then they make out and allison is left going... what??#far tua long #long post #ask game #headcanon game #Anonymous

215 notes · View notes

vilevampire · 4 years ago

Text

“Falling Apart” (One Shot)

Thank you @reesiereads for helping me beta read/edit this. Ily <3 Rating: Teen and up audiences Trigger Warnings: Self-harm, cutting, gender dysphoria, transphobia, deadnaming Pairing: Louie Duck x B.O.Y.D Summary: Boyd uncovers Louie's most well-kept secrets. 2.110 words Ao3 Link

Louie stared at himself in the mirror.

He was the same height as his brothers.

He had the same face as them.

They shared the same eyes.

The same feathers.

The same bill.

He moved his attention over to his hair.

It was short now, but it hadn't always been.

He reminisced about the time he got his first haircut years ago. He vividly remembered the rush of adrenaline that came over him one night. But most of all, he remembered that feeling. That disturbing, nauseating feeling of wrongness.

The same feeling he always had whenever he looked at himself in the mirror.

That was the first time he had recognized that feeling, and it was the reason he decided to cut his hair on a whim. It brought him some temporary relief, but…

He shook the memories away, looking at the other parts of his body and shuddering.

It was wrong.

Nothing was missing, per se.

Everything was in its proper place.

All of his limbs were still intact.

His five senses were all still working, too.

And, yet, something was wrong.

Deeply, irrevocably wrong.

A recurrent, nauseating feeling of despair engulfed him.

He closed his eyes forcefully and grasped the knife in his pocket. The familiar handle was the only thing helping him maintain his connection with reality. He opened his eyes again, staring over at himself one last time.

This time, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing out.

—————

A big family dinner; they had those fairly often.

Sometimes Uncle Scrooge would be too busy, or Uncle Donald would be working overtime, but they still tried their best to reserve some time off for spending quality time with their family. And with Christmas right around the corner, the mood was bright and merry. Even Louie was feeling pretty good, all things considered.

He enjoyed the time spent with his family, the holiday cheer and (best of all) the presents that came along with it.

Plus, he got to stuff himself with food.

It was the first time in a while that he actually looked forward to something.

This time, Huey had invited his friend Boyd over for dinner.

Louie had been friends with Boyd for a couple of weeks now, and in all honesty, he was crushing hard on him. Boyd was sweet, caring, and adorable. Somehow, he could always tell whenever Louie was feeling down and helped him cheer up. He laughed at all of his jokes, broke into the most beautiful smiles, knew about all kinds of amazing things; and gave the best hugs. Plus, he was a super cool technologically advanced android.

It was no wonder Louie fell for him in a matter of days.

Despite being Huey's best friend, Boyd got along just as well with the rest of his siblings. Right now, they were discussing the possibility of spending Christmas together this year.

"I would love to," Boyd admitted. "But I really want to spend the holidays with mom and dad this year."

Louie shuddered at the mention of the Drakes.

"Understandable." Huey nodded. "Let's see, maybe you can come over again after the holidays?" Huey shot a questioning glance at Della and Donald, who looked over at Scrooge, who was currently busy reading the newspaper.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah whatever." He gestured vaguely, most of his attention still on the paper.

The kids all cheered.

"Wait, can I invite Lena and Violet too?" Webby spoke up abruptly. "We can make it into a sleepover! I'm sure Lucy would appreciate having more girls to hang out with as well, right Lu?"

Louie bit down painfully on his tongue. None of the people at the table noticed his pain, however. The only thing they saw was Louie offering them a sweet smile. "Yeah, sure."

Once again, they turned to Uncle Scrooge in search of approval… with no response. It seemed he wasn't listening, so Donald pulled the newspaper out of his hands. "This is the first time in weeks we're getting to spend time together with the whole family and you keep looking at that newspaper! Can't you at least talk to them a bit?" Donald hissed.

He was a family man through and through.

Scrooge huffed, a sour expression on his face. "That's because ye haven't seen what's on it! The sheer amount of baloney they can fit in a page is insanity!"

Donald raised an eyebrow, straightening up the paper to read what was on it.

"...Transgender activism?"

Louie's heart stopped. His fork slipped out of his hands and onto the plate. He stuck his hands inside his pockets. Nobody noticed this though, for they all had their eyes set on Scrooge now. Even Della stopped devouring her food to look around the table for the first time.

"Yeah, whatever ye wanna call it." Scrooge rolled his eyes. "It's just a bunch ah crybabies, that's what they are."

Louie closed his eyes forcefully, trying not to freak out.

"Back in the day, we didn't have any of that garbage." Another scoff. Another stab of pain in Louie's heart. "I mean, love whoever you wanna love and be whatever you wanna be, but this is just too much—"

Louie pushed back from the table.

Eyes all around turned on him at that moment.

He didn't care.

All he wanted was to run away.

"Sorry, I'm… on that time of the month." He lied through his teeth. That was his go-to excuse for when he needed some time alone.

It always worked.

Without saying anything else, he stormed out of the dining room without looking back. Had he only stayed for a minute longer and listened to the conversation, he would have heard his friends and family scolding Scrooge over his ignorance.

But he didn't.

Instead, he ran up the stairs and locked himself in the bathroom.

—————

Louie made a cut.

It was swift but precise, yet not at all deadly. His breathing turned haggard from the pain. His body ached, begging him to stop. Instead, he simply made another one, drawing patterns on his skin.

He never learned any kind of self-defense techniques, but he was still as skilled as a butcher with his knife. His whole mind focused on the sharp pain that seared around his arms and wrists in bloody lines.

It put him at ease.

Suddenly, quick steps resounded down the hallway.

Louie immediately covered his arms back under his sleeves. Sweating bullets, he tried to hide away the knife inside his pockets as well, but the door burst open before he had the chance to.

Boyd's android eyes easily caught a glimpse of the blade Louie was trying to hide. He stared down at Louie, completely horrified.

"Lucy, you—"

"Go ahead and judge me!" Louie cut him off before he could finish speaking. "I don’t care what you think of me."

That was a lie. It was a lie and he knew it.

He cared far too much about what Boyd would think now that he knew about one of his secrets.

But he couldn't afford to show it.

Louie closed his eyes forcefully, afraid of seeing the expression on Boyd's face.

He already knew what he would find anyway.

Shame.

Disappointment.

Disgust.

A familiar, nauseating feeling of fear ran through Louie's entire being. He tried to stop his body from shaking but found that he wasn't able to. At first, only silence reigned. Louie had no idea what Boyd was doing or if he was even still in the room.

Suddenly, he felt something cold touch him.

Boyd had pulled him into a hug.

"I’m so sorry." He sounded devastated. "I’m sorry I couldn't notice your pain sooner."

Boyd's metallic arms wrapped around him felt much more comfortable than he thought it would.

Louie tried to hold back his tears and failed.

Slowly, what were only supposed to be quiet sobs, increasingly grew into louder and louder crying that reverberated throughout the whole room.

"I—"

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to say anything. You don't have to explain yourself or justify your actions. And you don't have to tell me what you're going through if you don't want to." The more Boyd spoke those gentle words to him, the more Louie could feel his heart rate peacefully go down. "I love you, you're my friend, and I'm here for you whenever you need me."

Just when Louie's weeping had started to diminish, another wave of tears burst from his eyes and onto Boyd's shoulders. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he simply hugged Boyd back and let the warm tears flow down his face.

Eventually, Louie pushed him away. He rubbed his face, trying to get rid of any signs of tears. That would be impossible since his eyes were red and puffy from the crying, but he did the best he could anyway.

"Um, Lucy? Can I ask you something?"

Louie nodded.

"Why are the bandages out of the cabinet? And why does your breathing sound… constricted?"

Louie's heart stopped.

He forgot about the bandages.

"I… injured myself." it was the best lie he could come up with on the spot.

Boyd might have actually believed that if it weren't for the fact that he was a highly sophisticated robot with more than enough capacity to determine whether somebody was injured or not.

He carefully scanned the room. There were no traces of blood anywhere, nor did Louie seem to be in pain; maybe only mild discomfort. Since he couldn't see any bandages wrapped around Louie's cuts on his arms either, he guessed that they must have been concealed by the hoodie.

Boyd's eyes widened as he connected the dots.

"Hey, by any chance are you… binding your chest?"

Louie's heart dropped to his stomach.

He couldn't answer, but that was enough confirmation for Boyd.

"That's… not good." Boyd started saying, and Louie steeled himself for rejection.

But it didn't go the way he expected it to.

"If you bind unsafely, you could severely damage your ribcage. You should only use professional binders that you can order online."

Louie stared at him in shock.

"...Or are you not actually binding? Did I get that wrong?"

Louie almost caught himself nodding to that subconsciously before he could stop himself.

He was used to lying.

He had been doing it his entire life.

He was good at it, too.

But…

He looked up and down at Boyd, who was still waiting for his answer.

"Hey, can you keep a secret?"

He decided to trust him.

A part of himself was panicking inside of his mind. It was scary, new, terrifying. He hated going through situations where he couldn't safely predict the results. But another part of himself knew this was probably the right thing to do. This part of himself was tired of hiding, tired of lies and tricks.

Goddammit, he just wanted to be accepted for who he was.

Why was it so difficult?

Boyd nodded at him. "Of course. I won't tell anybody."

Louie fiddled with his knife, building up his courage to speak up. "I'm trans," He hesitated. "and I prefer… I prefer to go by Louie, actually."

He did it.

He said those words out loud for the first time.

He told somebody about his true identity.

"That's… amazing, Louie. I'm so proud of you." Boyd offered his sweetest smile. "Have you told your family yet?"

Louie shook his head. "You're the first one I'm telling."

"Really? I'm glad you felt like you could trust me." Boyd blushed a little. He really did seem happy about it. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

For some reason, Louie felt like he was telling the truth.

Louie couldn’t remember when the last time he felt this comfortable around somebody else was. Most of all, he was just glad to be able to get that off his chest.

"Actually, can I ask you something as well?" Louie brought up suddenly. He had been curious about something for a while now.

"Of course Louie, you can ask me anything."

Louie felt euphoric, not only at the mention of his preferred name, but also at Boyd's display of trust.

"...How did you know?"

Boyd blinked innocently. "How did I know what?"

"How did you know I was… cutting?" The last word came out as barely a whisper.

"Oh! Easy. Robot super-hearing." Boyd grinned impishly as he answered.

...Louie made a mental note to never underestimate Boyd again.

In the future, he would have to come out to the rest of his family.

That wouldn't happen today though.

He made progress. For now, this was enough.

38 notes · View notes

hotpinkhoshi · 5 years ago

Text

the pact (1)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: sexual content, cursing, alcohol, cliche fwb to lovers, fuckboy!jb

word count: 6.5k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

A/N: this is the first fic i’ve posted in yearrsssss so please be kind! also, if there are any weird formatting issues please let me know, i had a hell of a time posting this and mostly could only edit on my ipad so it’s been rough. hopefully it looks normal on both the app and desktop website but if it doesn’t, send me a message!

↳ index here

This was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.

You’d had a rough day at work, only looking forward to one thing all day—having all your friends over for your monthly movie night that inevitably always ended up as a mess. Your co-worker, Yugyeom, and his best friend Bambam were usually the culprits, turning every movie into a drinking game. You’d come to expect it after the third time you’d had to push Bam out before he puked on your carpet.

Your two bedroom apartment was barely big enough for you, your roommate, and your four closest guy friends, but you made it work every month and it was just what you’d needed tonight after the day you’d had.

It wasn’t usually difficult work managing a bookstore, but this week had been one of your lowest yet with sales, and you’d had to field multiple customer complaints as well as employee drama. It’d been enough to build tension in your shoulders and make you especially thirsty for Yugyeom’s special sodas—three parts alcohol, one part Sprite.

It didn’t help that you’d just seen your longtime crush, Jaebeom, post on his Instagram story that he was out with a mystery girl you didn’t recognize but had everything you didn’t. Stylish clothes, ridiculous curves, natural beauty, and most importantly, she had Jaebeom.

You’d been pining after Jaebeom for as long as you could remember—since you were in middle school with him and Jinyoung, at least. You’d had a decent amount of boyfriends in the ten years that had passed since then, yet you couldn’t shake your infatuation.

To make your infatuation even worse, three weeks ago, you’d been out with the guys and when you ran into Jaebeom, he was three shots deep and you ended up making out with him in the men’s bathroom. It wasn’t quite the romantic encounter you’d built up in your head, but still. He had a way of kissing you that made you feel like maybe he’d been wanting you just as badly this entire time. But then that was it—besides a couple of random text messages, you’d barely spoken to him since then.

So you’d gone a little overboard and ended up on the kitchen floor, your head resting on your roommate Sana’s lap while Transformers played in the living room and the boys argued over autobots and decepticons.

“I just—he texted me last week, I told you, right? He asked what I was doing, but it was two in the morning so I didn’t see it until I woke up...”

Sana stroked your hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “You want me to be honest with you, right?”

“Yes, please.”

“Jaebeom is a textbook fuckboy. He texted you because he was horny and his other playthings probably ignored him, so you were likely the first female’s name that he saw while scrolling through his contacts.”

It was a harsh truth, but deep down you knew she was right. Still, it wasn’t so easy to just brush it off and forget about it. You couldn’t help wondering what exactly was wrong with you, why you weren’t good enough for him. Sure, you were a little bookish, and you weren’t skilled in the art of seduction, but he had kissed you. That meant something, didn’t it?

“Besides, I don’t even get why you like him so much. He doesn’t even have a real job—“

You interrupted, “He’s a musician!”

“—I said a real job. He’s not a musician, he’s a DJ that sometimes posts half assed thirty second clips on Soundcloud with vaguely sexual titles.”

You pouted, knowing that she was right, and buried your face into her lap. “But he’s so pretty,” you whined.

Sana rubbed your back like the good best friend she was. “I know, Y/N. I know. But he’s a scumbag, and there are better guys out there. Like, millions of them. He’s not worth laying on your kitchen floor crying over.”

“Who’s she crying over?”

You lifted your head to see Jinyoung standing in the kitchen doorway with the empty bowl of popcorn. Sighing, you pulled yourself up from the floor and slumped against the counter. “Is Jaebeom dating someone?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow and set down the popcorn bowl, then grabbed a fresh beer out of the fridge. “How should I know?”

“I don’t know, you’ve known him forever,” you replied with a shrug. “Don’t guys like, tell each other that stuff?”

“No,” Jinyoung answered with a snort. “We say, ‘hey, what’s up, man? How’s life?’ And then we give a noncommittal response, say we should grab a drink sometime to catch up, and then we never do.”

You pursed your lips together, crossing your arms. “Well, he posted one of those mirror selfies with some girl I’ve never seen before. The caption was ‘late night with bae’.”

You were saved a snarky response from Sana when there was a sudden raise in the volume in the living room, indicating the guys were getting out of hand again. Someone was yelling about spilled soju and Bambam was making noise simply to make noise, it seemed.

“If they stained the couch, I’m going to kill them,” she muttered before huffing off, prepared to put her foot down and wrangle the boys back to a reasonable sound level. Your neighbors had already called the landlord last week when Jackson stood out on the balcony belting out Boyz II Men at passing men and women.

While Jinyoung rinsed out the popcorn bowl, you scrutinized him. He was an acceptable man, right? He had a steady job at a publishing house, he was polite, kind, and made you laugh. He always surprised you with advanced copies of your most anticipated reads and he was probably the source of half the sales at your store. And yet, there were no butterflies when you looked at him. Not like there were when you saw Jaebeom.

But he was attractive, objectively. Jackson had told you the last time you’d bothered him for advice that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone new. And sex didn’t always have to mean anything between friends...

“Why are you staring?” Jinyoung asked when he finally noticed you were practically studying him.

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing.”

After grabbing a water bottle to sober up, you headed back into the living room to finish watching the movie. Clearly this train of thought was the result of too many special sodas, considering you’d never once in your life looked at Jinyoung as more than a close friend. It had always been about Jaebeom for you.

Besides, he’d dated Yeri for five years. Two of those were long distance while she studied in the states, and they’d broken up just a couple of months ago not long after she returned. Maybe that was why you’d never seen him as an option.

Two hours later, Bambam and Yugyeom had abandoned your movie night after being invited out to a new club by some pretty girls. It was predictable at this point, and you’d rather have them getting smashed out on the streets than in your apartment.

Sana had left you, Jackson, and Jinyoung with the task of cleaning up fallen popcorn and throwing away the many empty bottles scattered throughout the apartment. She’d cleaned up last month, it was your turn this time.

You felt almost sober by the time everything was cleaned up and Jackson left to meet up with the other boys, unable to resist a night out. By the time you collapsed onto the couch and switched the TV off, the only remains of your alcohol was the heaviness in your limbs.

Jinyoung dropped onto the couch next to you, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Tired?” he asked you, brows raised.

“A little.” You shrugged and pulled your legs onto the couch underneath of you, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Mostly just exhausted from the week. I think it’s just now hitting me.”

“Mm,” he agreed, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Me too. Tonight��s the first time I got to leave the office before eight o’clock.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “You work too hard.”

Jinyoung chuckled. “I like my job. I enjoy the work, most of the time. Keeps my mind occupied.”

That, you understood. You’d always been one to ignore your life’s problems by throwing yourself into work, and you knew it was one of the reasons you’d never had a successful relationship and found it hard to keep friends outside of the circle you’d always had.

Or, there could have been one other reason you hadn’t ever been able to stay with one person for too long—Jaebeom. As pathetic as it sounded, you’d always compared other guys to him, and they fell short every time.

You caught your mind wandering to him yet again and mentally slapped yourself. That was it, you had to find a way to forget about him. Once and for all.

“How did you get over Yeri?” You asked, somewhat abruptly. It caught Jinyoung off guard, you could tell. He’d been broken up with her for almost two months now, and hadn’t mentioned her in almost as long.

Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, chewing at his lip for a moment as if carefully choosing his words. “I don’t— I mean, maybe I’m not. Over her.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “You’re not? But it’s been two months, and I just kind of figured...”

He shrugged. “Some days are better than others. But every now and then, I feel like... like I’m still waiting for her to come back, and my whole life is on pause until she does.”

As far as you knew, Yeri had been the one to end things. Jinyoung was just too busy with work, he stayed late almost every night and she’d gotten tired of trying to schedule quality time with him weeks in advance. At least, that was as much as Jackson had told you.

You had no idea it would still be weighing on him, though. Jinyoung, of all people, was rarely shaken by anything. Always calm, calculated, and steady. No matter how long you’d known him, this was possibly the most he’d ever opened up to you.

“Sana thinks I need to get over my crush on Jaebeom,” you said as a slight change in subject, mostly because you had no experience in comforting Jinyoung and couldn’t begin to think of a proper response. “You know, for good.”

“You do,” Jinyoung responded with a light chuckle. “You’ve been obsessing over him since we were teenagers, and I have no idea why.”

You propped your sock covered feet on the coffee table, tipping your head back against the couch. “I don’t really know, either. I guess I just always thought... he’d settle down and want something serious, you know? He’d be done with the partying, the one night stands, the DJing, and he’d want...”

Trailing off, you chose not to finish the sentence because it was just too pathetic to say out loud. He’d want me.

Jinyoung was silent for a while before he leaned his shoulder into yours, a subtle gesture of comfort. “You deserve a lot better than him.”

When you were silent in response, Jinyoung nudged you again, more firmly this time. “Hey, you believe me, right? Don’t waste your worries on him, Y/N. There really are millions of better guys out there.”

Truthfully, you wanted to believe Jinyoung but there was still that nagging voice at the back of your head. Every relationship you’d ever had, and there weren’t many, had ended terribly. You’d been cheated on, lied to, and straight up ghosted. It was hard not to think maybe you were the problem.

You weren’t the most beautiful girl out there, you’d accepted that long ago. Not that you were hideous, but you knew there wasn’t much about your appearance that stood out to the average passerby. Looks weren’t everything, but they were still important.

“Would you have sex with me?” You blurted, realizing maybe you weren’t so sober after all. “I mean, hypothetically?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened and he stifled a cough, looking at you like you had two heads. “Sorry?”

“I mean,” you cleared your throat and stood up in front of him. Long sweater, leggings, faded makeup and all. “You’re a guy. If you saw me at a bar, or just walking on the street. Would you want to have sex with me?”

The tips of Jinyoung’s ears instantly turned a deep shade of pink and it looked for a moment as if he was trying to keep his eyes anywhere except your body. “I—“ he shook his head, then finally made eye contact with you. “Yes.”

It was a new feeling, seeing Jinyoung flustered like this. It didn’t happen often, but you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. It occurred to you, suddenly, that Jackson might have been onto something.

“Do you want to... now?” You asked, faking confidence. Sex between friends didn’t have to mean anything, and you both had people you needed to get over. It made sense, at the end of the day. And you trusted him, you realized—a lot.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jinyoung replied, shaking his head once more. “Why are you asking this right now?”

You took a deep breath. “You want to get over Yeri. I want to get over Jaebeom. It makes sense, right? We’re adults, we’re friends, and it wouldn’t be anything more than physical. Whenever we need to let off some steam or get our minds off of them, we can help each other.”

He looked away again, but you could tell with the way his jaw worked that he was considering it. Still, maybe he was the wrong person to ask. Jinyoung had never had casual sex, at least not that you knew of. He was a serious relationship kind of guy. You may have been better off asking one of the other guys.

“Okay.”

When he answered, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“You might have a point,” Jinyoung admitted. “Part of the reason I can’t get over Yeri is because she’s the only girl I’ve ever been with. Memories of her are everywhere. But maybe,” he sighed, running his tongue over his lips. “Maybe we could make some new ones.”

The corner of your lip quirked up and you felt the satisfaction of winning, which truly didn’t happen often with Jinyoung. He was one of the most stubborn people you’d ever known, always having a comeback or a way to turn it around in his own favor.

“So...” you started, trying to hide your fidgeting fingers in the sleeves of your sweater. You decided to just go for it, lowering yourself onto the couch with your knees on either side of Jinyoung’s hips.

It felt awkward. This was your childhood friend, and you were about to have sex with him with absolutely no feelings involved. But as you settled onto his lap and he slid his hands up your thighs, you began to relax.

“So,” Jinyoung repeated, gripping your waist under your sweater. His hands were big and warm, and you instantly felt safe in his grasp. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

When you nodded, Jinyoung leaned in slowly and carefully until his lips just barely brushed yours. He was gentle at first, until you tilted your head and kissed him back, your hands resting experimentally against his solid chest.

To be honest, it wasn’t bad. Jinyoung’s lips were soft and plump, and he kissed politely, waiting for permission to deepen it further.

So you gave it to him, sliding your arms around his neck and bringing your body flush against his, allowing his tongue entrance into your mouth. The two of you kissed until you were breathless, and you silently thanked the gods that Sana was a deep sleeper and there was little to no chance she’d walk in on you with your tongue down Jinyoung’s throat.

As polite as Jinyoung was, he didn’t hesitate to trace his hands up your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this, you’d forgotten how good it felt to be pressed up against a warm body, both of you desperately trying to get closer.

Even though he’d agreed to sleep with you, for some reason you were still surprised when you felt him harden underneath you. Part of you had been expecting him to end up repulsed or chicken out.

Something about the way he felt underneath of you had you rolling your hips into his, the obvious bulge in his pants pressing between your thighs just right. You let out a breathy moan into the kiss and Jinyoung pulled you down against him more firmly, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to rub you through your leggings.

A surprised moan slipped out and Jinyoung pulled away abruptly, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. “Is that okay?”

You nodded quickly, grabbing his wrist and pressing his fingers back against your clit, sending warmth throughout your entire body. “Feels good,” you whispered, and you swore you felt Jinyoung’s cock twitch in his jeans.

“Bedroom?” Jinyoung asked, his fingers still drawing slow circles that were starting to make your brain fuzzy.

“Please,” you responded, and before you could make a move to stand up, Jinyoung was grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, lifting you from the couch like you weighed nothing. When had he gotten so strong?

He somehow got you to the bedroom smoothly, only stopping once to press you into the hallway and scatter kisses across your neck. Then he finally set you down after shutting your bedroom door behind you and you took the opportunity to lift his shirt up over his head.

You knew Jinyoung worked out regularly, but you had no idea he looked like that under his clothes. A firm chest, wide shoulders, and an actual six pack. If you’d known he was this ripped, maybe you would’ve tried to make this arrangement sooner.

“Seriously?” You asked, running your fingers down the lines of his abs. “Have you always looked like this?”

Jinyoung’s ears flushed again. “You know I like exercising. What did you expect?”

Shrugging, you settled your hands at his belt and ran your fingers along the metal of the buckle. “I don’t know. Now I’m a little scared to take your pants off, I mean, what have you got hiding there?”

He cringed, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him once more. “Oh, god. Please never say that again.”

Your giggle was cut off by Jinyoung’s lips pressing into yours again. This time the kiss was more heated, wet and punctuated by little nips to your lower lip. When he finally rid you of your sweater, you were so turned on you forgot to be insecure about him seeing your body for the first time.

Jinyoung laid you down on the bed, cradling his hand behind your head as it hit the pillows. His lips were on your collarbone in an instant and you slid your fingers through the soft strands of his hair, tugging in appreciation when he started sucking a hickey into your skin.

Tracing your sides with his fingertips once more, Jinyoung squeezed your hips and pulled back, sitting back on his heels to look down at you. His eyes raked your body from your face down to your waist, to where your legs were spread for him to lay between.

“Should we—“ Jinyoung swallowed, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. “Should we make some ground rules?”

It was fitting that he would be the one to suggest boundaries, but he had a point. Just because you trusted him and were both aware that it would be just sex, no feelings, didn’t mean it couldn’t get messy.

“Good idea,” you breathed, pushing hair out of your face. You’d never done this before, you didn’t even know where to start.

“Honesty,” Jinyoung started, his face looking quite serious despite the fact that he had a massive bulge in his jeans and he was naked from the waist up. “We tell each other what’s working, what’s not... what feels good, what doesn’t.”

Nodding, you agreed, “And, we have to tell each other if we start sleeping with someone else.”

“Or if we start to fall in love,” Jinyoung said, catching you off guard. Love? It hadn’t even crossed your mind.

He seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat, and you tried to ignore the adorable blush that was creeping onto the apples of his cheeks. “No feelings, right?”

You held your hand out. “Deal.”

Jinyoung smirked, then reached his hand out to clasp yours, shaking it just once. “Deal. Want me to eat you out now?”

You coughed in surprise. Was he always this forward with girls? If so, what was Yeri thinking walking away from him like that?

When you realized he wasn’t kidding, not even a little, as his hands played with the waistband of your leggings, you nodded once. “Okay. But I’m not—I wasn’t really expecting anyone to see me naked...”

Though you knew there was no good reason to be insecure, it was just Jinyoung, you squirmed your hips regardless when Jinyoung started to remove your leggings. “You want me to be honest?” He asked, tossing the ball of fabric behind him once you were left in just your bra and underwear.

“That’s the idea, right?”

“Right.” He scooted down the bed and laid between your legs, his shoulders nudging your knees apart to give him more room. “I don’t care. Most guys don’t. Besides, the underwear is cute.”

Blushing, you turned your face towards the pillow. You vaguely remembered mindlessly picking out a pair of snowmen underwear, simple cotton hipsters that were far from seductive. Though he said he didn’t care, you couldn’t help the knot of embarrassment in your stomach.

“Shut up.” You chewed your lip, then lifted your head to look down at him. “Guys really don’t care? About... what it looks like down there?”

Jinyoung held back another chuckle. “No. You care way more than we do, apparently. At the end of the day, if it’s the right guy, we just want to be inside of you. And if it’s really the right guy, we just want to make you feel good. Nothing else matters.”

It relieved some of your anxiety, but you still couldn’t look at his face as he pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them to the floor. You trusted him, more than most guys you’d ever met, but he was about to get closer to you than even some of the men you’d slept with.

“Relax,” Jinyoung whispered and you conceded, laying your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

You nodded, tapping your hands awkwardly against the covers until you felt his fingers intertwine yours, holding them against the bed next to your hips.

He started slow. Kissing your thighs, building it up, getting closer and closer to your heat before finally, he licked one single strip from your entrance up to your clit. You whimpered involuntarily, not realizing how sensitive you’d be.

How long had it been, anyway? At least six months since the last time you’d had sex, and much longer since you’d had a man’s face between your thighs.

Then he locked his lips around your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking, until you were squeezing his hands so hard you were sure you left nail marks in his skin. You had to remind yourself Sana was just a couple of rooms over, and though she was a deep sleeper she’d most definitely wake up to you moaning at the top of your lungs.

“Faster,” you told him, still unable to open your eyes but he listened immediately, quickening the pace of his tongue against your clit. You whined breathlessly, hips lifting in an attempt to just feel more.

Jinyoung let go of one of your hands only to slide it down to meet just underneath his chin, taking the wetness that had gathered on two of his fingers before slowly inching them inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, moving your now free hand to clamp onto the back of Jinyoung’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. “Deep. Deeper, with your fingers,” you told him, words rushing together because you felt like you were going a little bit insane.

So he obeyed, pushing his fingers through your walls until he couldn’t go any further. He let you adjust, then began a slow, delicious pace inside of you. You could feel sweat pooling in your collarbone just from the heat Jinyoung was making you feel.

“Pull my hair,” Jinyoung whispered, and you didn’t have time to question it before you were doing as he said. He moaned into your clit and you arched your back, your mouth gaping open just as you remembered you needed to stay quiet.

He knew what he was doing, you could tell that much. Not only that, he enjoyed it. You could tell just from the quiet groans he’d let out when you clenched your walls around his fingers, like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you were.

“J-Jinyoung,” you stuttered, feeling the pressure start to build in your belly, your toes beginning to curl. He stared up at you, mouth still buried into your pussy. “I’m... I’m close, but I—“ you groaned. “I want you. Please.”

Within a second, Jinyoung was slipping his fingers from your folds, popping them into his mouth to get a taste and using his other hand to undo his belt. He worked fast, pushing his jeans down his thighs and kicking them off the bed with his underwear.

“Nightstand,” you breathed, taking your opportunity to check him out, head to toe. His dick was pretty. And that was truly the first time you’d ever thought that about anyone. You shifted your hips on the bed, desperate to have him fill you up.

It was new to feel this needy, and for Jinyoung of all people. The guy you’d known since you were both in your awkward phase, scrawny limbs and terrible clothing. He’d seen you throw up on your own shoes, and you’d seen him dance to Backstreet Boys at your high school talent show.

And yet, here you were, naked and wet underneath of him as if none of that mattered.

Jinyoung shoved his hand into your nightstand drawer until he found the box of condoms, grabbing one and tossing the nearly full box to the floor in his haste to get inside of you. You watched as he rolled it on, and it finally hit you that this was happening. It was almost too late for either of you to change your minds.

“This is your last chance,” you said, finally looking up from his cock to his eyes. “If you want to stop, if you think it’s a bad idea—“

Jinyoung cut you off with his lips once more, his hand grabbing onto your thigh to hook it around his waist. “I’m not changing my mind. Are you?” He whispered against your lips and you felt him hard against your stomach.

“No,” you answered. “I want it.”

He pulled away and locked eyes with you, a smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah?” His tongue ran over his lower lip and he reached down, guiding his cock up your folds until the head nudged your clit. “I can tell.”

Even though he was clearly just as desperate, you blushed and pinched his arm. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

Jinyoung’s eyes lit up and he chuckled, lowering his hips until you felt him at your entrance. “I had no idea you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He paused for a moment, making sure you were ready, then pushed inside of your heat.

While you’d just had his fingers inside of you, you would’ve never been able to tell with the way you squeezed around him. It was uncomfortable at first, but the feeling ebbed away quickly the more of him you took inside.

“Oh,” you breathed, and Jinyoung echoed your reaction with a groan.

“Tight,” he whispered, dropping his head down to your shoulder.

As soon as he’d filled you to the hilt, you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped from your lips. It was the best kind of stretch, putting every one of your nerves on edge. He stayed like that for a long moment, letting your walls adjust to his length.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you shifted, tightening your leg around his waist. “Move. Please.”

Jinyoung’s movements were controlled and slow, but it was as if he knew all of the sensitive places in your body already. You gasped, your hands sliding up his back until they gripped tightly to his shoulder blades.

The way he fit inside of you felt incredible, and you weren’t sure it had ever felt quite like this, even with ex-boyfriends. Everywhere your body met with his felt like it was on fire, and as Jinyoung quickened his pace, you found it harder and harder to stay quiet.

His name fell from your lips over and over, and you could tell Jinyoung was holding back—when he lifted his head from your shoulder, his brows were knitted together in concentration. You slid your nails down his back, relishing in the way he shivered in response.

“God, you’re driving me insane,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Spread your legs more. Yeah, just like that.”

“Mm, faster,” you told him, clenching around him once he was all the way inside. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

“Fuck—“ Jinyoung groaned, hands squeezing the sheets where he held himself above you.

If someone had told you twelve hours ago that Jinyoung would have you covering your own mouth to muffle your moans while he drilled into you, you probably would have thought they were crazy. But here you were.

Jinyoung reached down, slipping his hand under your back to unhook your bra, pulling it off in one smooth movement. He cursed under his breath once you were exposed to him completely, breasts bouncing each time he filled you up.

“God,” he whispered, hand trailing down your chest until the tip of his index finger grazed over your nipple, a featherlight touch. You shivered, arching your back towards his hand. “Tell me what you like.”

Normally, it took you months to let your boyfriends know what you liked in bed and how you liked to be touched, but honesty was your number one rule in this agreement. There was no point in holding back.

“I like it deep, just like this,” you told him. Jinyoung seemed to just know already, or maybe that was how he liked it too. He was always the intense type, it made sense if it had transferred over to the bedroom. “I like it when you tell me how it feels, what you want to do.”

Your words were finished off by a moan that you were sure Sana could have heard if she weren’t asleep, and just the thrill of being caught was enough to send a wave of heat through your body.

When Jinyoung locked eyes with you, there was a hint of something new, like you’d unlocked a part of him that you’d never seen before. He smirked.

“Next time,” Jinyoung started, thrusting deep inside of you, “you won’t have to keep quiet. I’ll take you to my place, and when I’m inside of you, you can be as loud as you want.” His hand slid down your torso, over the sensitive skin of your stomach until it rested on your hip.

Next time. Just the idea of being with him again, though you probably wouldn’t admit it, excited you. It filled your mind with a flash of scenarios and possibilities, all the different ways he could make you feel good.

“Jinyoung, I—“ you moaned, biting hard onto your lip to silence yourself. Jinyoung brought his other hand to your mouth, thumbing your lip until you were forced to stop biting it.

“Would you like that?” he asked, the pace of his thrusts quickening. “Maybe I can bend you over the back of the couch, windows open for everyone to hear you crying out. Is that what you want?”

Your eyes squeezed shut, gasping as the mental image went straight between your legs where he filled you up so perfectly.

“Answer me.” His voice was deep but stern at your ear, and you knew his question was not rhetorical.

“Yes,” you replied, digging your nails into his back. “God, yes. Make me scream your name, Jinyoung.” And he almost did, as he attached his lips to your neck and bit down, teeth scraping against your tender skin just as he slammed inside of you.

You were close again, and you knew it wouldn’t take much more to send you tumbling over the edge. His thrusts were so deep and powerful that you knew you’d be aching tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t get enough,” he said, voice husky and low against your neck where you could tell he was working on marking you. He could’ve left the biggest, reddest hickey for all to see and you couldn’t have cared less right now. It didn’t even cross your mind that this was meant to be just between the two of you.

You whimpered when his hand drifted from your hip to the place where your bodies met. He placed his thumb right against your clit and pressed quick circles into your most sensitive spot, and you had to restrain yourself from moaning out.

Jinyoung must have sensed this, because he pulled away from your neck and stared down at you, slipping his opposite thumb into the wetness of your mouth. “Suck.”

If you weren’t close before, you were now. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and did as you were told, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking on Jinyoung’s digit as it rested on your tongue.

As his gaze locked on yours, you found yourself unable to look away. He commanded every bit of your attention, his eyes filled with desire and pleasure that you were responsible for. Your heart pounded in your chest, overwhelmed with need.

Although Jinyoung didn’t say a word, you could read it in his eyes—cum for me. He drew tight circles against your clit, his fast pace relentless inside of you. His stamina was something else, you thought to yourself. He didn’t even look mildly tired out.

You grabbed at Jinyoung’s wrist with your hands, needing something to grip onto but you also desperately needed to keep your mouth occupied so that you didn’t wake your roommate and the neighbors with your cries.

Then something snapped. The tension got to be too much and your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your back to arch and your thighs to shake, caging Jinyoung’s waist in and slowing his movements.

He still fucked you through your high and kept his fingers moving until he was sure you had come down. Once he was, he brought a hand up to push your hair away from your face, pressing his lips into your forehead.

“Good girl,” he whispered and you sighed, your limbs finally relaxing in exhaustion. You would’ve never guessed that Jinyoung would be the one to give you what was possibly the best orgasm you’d had in years. Polite, calm, and serious Jinyoung. The same Jinyoung that could barely look you in the eye when you wore a bathing suit in front of him.

His climax wasn’t far away, you knew that much. And you were thankful too, because you were already starting to feel sore and overstimulated, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

You wrapped your arms around him, your fingertips gripping deep into his skin, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks down his back. It was only fair, you figured. You slipped one hand into his hair and tugged, harder than before.

“Shit,” Jinyoung moaned, his thrusts becoming less controlled and more shallow. You pulled his hair again, your nails scraping against his scalp, and that was it for him.

He pushed inside one last time, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn’t help clenching your walls around him as he came. He was mostly silent save for one throaty groan into your neck, a sound you were sure you wouldn’t soon forget.

You felt him relax a long moment later and he slowly pulled back away from you, stroking the side of your face with his fingertips. “That was...”

All you could do was nod, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Yeah...” Your heart was still racing from your orgasm, but the haze of your desire was starting to fall away, reminding you of reality.

You’d just had sex with Jinyoung. One of your best friends. What would happen now? Would it be awkward from now on, now that you’d seen each other naked? You’d literally had him inside of you. Something told you it’d be difficult to come back from that.

Jinyoung finally pulled out of you a moment later to remove the condom and put it in the trash, and you were eternally grateful that you had the master bedroom with the attached bathroom. For one, you could watch his backside as he went to get a washcloth, and you also didn’t have to leave your bedroom until both of you were fully cleaned up.

You shifted on the bed while you waited for Jinyoung to return, trying to ease your worries. The two of you had been friends so long, you figured it would take more than one hook-up to ruin it all.

Once Jinyoung came back with a wet cloth and climbed onto the bed, you told yourself you’d worry about it tomorrow.

You both got cleaned up and while Jinyoung got dressed, you grabbed your robe and wrapped it around yourself so that you could walk him to the door. Both of your footsteps were as silent as possible, careful not to wake your roommate.

“Jinyoung,” you said, as he slipped his shoes back on.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” you whispered, chewing nervously at your lip. You didn’t quite know what you were thanking him for, but you felt the need to say it anyway. Some part of you felt so grateful to him that you couldn’t let him leave without making him aware.

Jinyoung’s lips quirked just a bit. “You too,” he tucked your disheveled hair behind your ear. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

You nodded. “Drive safe.”

The moment Jinyoung was out of the apartment, your body leaned limply against the door as you stared up at the ceiling. No, this was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.

#okay soooooo here we go please be nice!!!#got7 #got7 fanfic #jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 fic #got7 smut #jinyoung fic #jinyoung smut #got7 scenario #got7 reaction #park jinyoung smut #jinyoung fanfic #kpop #kpop imagine #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine #writing

2K notes · View notes

awanderingdeal · 4 years ago

Text

The best kind of spa day - Chapter 3

Chapter 3! I said this would be the last chapter, but I am thinking there will be one more.

Rating: Explicit (This chapter is more Mature, but the fic on the whole is definitely Explicit)

CW: food talk, drinking of alcohol, mention of C-section, heavy kissing, multiple mentions of sex and mild angst.

For previous chapters, please see my masterlist

And finally…but very importantly…thank you to @lumosinlove for the creation of the most wonderful Natalie Darcy and the sweater weather universe.

P.S. Just a note that Lily had a tattoo that covers her C-section scar, but that is not to say that there is anything wrong with them or that they need to be covered. They are literally a sign that you brought a whole ass human into this world and if you want to wear that with pride then you should.

P.P.S. This hasn't had a final edit yet, so please excuse any mistakes. I'll try and get around to it tomorrow!

Lily leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her stomach. She seemed content, full of food and happiness. Earlier, as they'd been getting their pedicures, Lily had moaned that part of her wished she could stay in this fantasy land where she got pampered all day forever, and Natalie agreed, but alas, tomorrow they had to go back to their everyday lives and responsibilities.

“Finished?” Natalie asked, eyeing up the remains of Lily’s blackberry parfait.

“I can’t eat another thing,” Lily replied with a laugh, “I feel like I’m carrying Harry all over again.”

Natalie reached out to pluck a piece of honeycomb from the plate, popping it into her mouth with a grin, “did you not know there’s an extra shelf in your stomach for dessert?”

“Have at it,” Lily shook her head with a fond disbelief, pushing the plate in Natalie's direction. It didn’t take long for her to finish the last of the desert and after another frozen margarita each, the two of them of them headed back up to their bedroom. There was a wait for the elevator. Natalie took advantage of the lull to wrap her arms around Lily’s waist, swaying them side to side in a silly sort of slow dance. “I’m gonna miss you,” Natalie mumbled into Lily’s hair.

“You’re going to see me in 3 days,” Lily countered, taking Natalie’s hand as the elevator doors opened with a ping. The silence that occupied the space between them seemed more awkward than normal, but Natalie couldn't place exactly why. "Can I ask you a question?" Lily asked just as the reached their floor.

Somewhere in the recesses of her brain, Natalie felt the urge to tell Lily that she had, in fact, just asked a question, but her intuition was telling her Lily wouldn't appreciate the joke just now. "You know you can. What's up?" Natalie replied, reluctantly dropping Lily's hand so she could root in her backpack for the room key. There was a quiet while she searched, but Natalie could hear the cogs in Lily's brain turning, until eventually she found the item and was able to push the door open.

Lily paused just inside the room, looking behind her to watch the door swing shut, like some animal that had just been caged in. She worried her lip between her teeth, a habit Natalie had always gently scolded her for, but this time Natalie squashed the urge to tell her not to do it. "Hey Lilypad, what's going on?" Natalie pressed, sweeping a piece of Lily's hair from her face.

“Would you - What if - I -” Lily stumbled over the start of her sentence a few times before letting out a small frustrated growl. Natalie squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, recognising that Lily just needed a bit of space to work through what could sometimes be a crippling perfectionism. Natalie guessed that a tiny part of it was just her natural personality, but growing up with a sister who twisted every word Lily said into some ugly version of the truth most definitely hadn’t helped.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Natalie cocked her head towards the bed. She noted briefly that the sheets had been changed. Lily swallowed, nodded resolutely and started the short walk without making a sound. Something in the journey helped because as soon as the back of Natalie’s thighs had touched the bedding, words tumbled out of Lily’s mouth.

“Would you still be my friend if we never had sex again?" Lily started. The small gesture Lily made to indicate she hadn't yet finished warmed Natalie's heart; it was the small things that indicated how well her friend knew her were her favourite. "I know when you first asked, you said that I could say no and it wouldn’t change anything about our relationship, but sometimes it feels like now we’ve taken that step maybe you don’t want it to go back?”

Natalie tucked her legs up, resting her chin against her knees, taking her time to think over the words. She would be lying if she said they hadn’t hurt, and she didn’t want her response to be in anger. “Lily, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way,” Natalie said quietly. She heard Lily breath in deeply, a sentence on the tip of her tongue, then the breath was let out, words exhaled with it. Natalie met Lily’s eyes, finding her voice again, “But I need you to know, I give zero fucks if we never do anything even remotely sexual ever again. Sure, I love being with you. You’re beautiful and attentive, and I love making you feel good. But our friendship will always, always, come first." She paused, letting her answer sink in. "Can I ask why you’re asking now? You’ve seemed so happy these last few days.”

“God, yes, Natalie I’ve loved this weekend. I always love spending time with you,” Lily said quickly. “I’ve just...I’ve noticed that sometimes you get sulky when you know you’re going to see me but in a group. I figured it’s because we can’t, you know…”

“Lilypad, I think this is what is known as a failure to communicate,” Natalie let out a sigh of relief. “I do sometimes get sulky, as you put it. But not because I want to have sex with you all the time. Although, I wouldn't complain about that," she laughed lightly, hoping the small joke would make the air feel a bit less thick. "It’s just because...Look, I adore having all my favourite people in one room. I love watching you be a mom. Watching James shower you in affection makes me happy. I love seeing you laugh with Kase and Al. However, it’s not the same as one - on - one. Whether that’s us watching a movie, or baking or having sex, I love getting to spend time with my best friend. It doesn’t mean I don’t want those group moments, it just means I miss having you all to myself as well.”

Lily wrapped her hand around Natalie’s knee, pulling gently until Natalie relented and allowed herself to be drawn into Lily’s side. Natalie rested her head on Lily’s shoulder, looking up to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Natalie apologised.

Lily shook her head, her ponytail swaying with the movement. “No, I’m sorry for making assumptions,” she countered, tracing her thumb along Natalie’s jawline. “I think I get it. When Harry came along, I craved the time it was just me and James again, but somehow at the same time, I wanted to clutch Harry to my chest and keep him all to myself, whilst also wanting it to be all three of us together. Brains are weird.”

“Brains are weird,” Natalie repeated, chuckling at the truth behind those words.

“And now, I have you too. Whatever this is,” Lily laughed, waving her hand vaguely through the air. “So much love. Too much love.”

“There’s no such thing,” Natalie said adamantly, “Give me all the love.” She turned, tackling Lily against the bed with a laugh, managing to end up with a mouthful of hair. Natalie spluttered, picking red strands from her mouth as she started to pull away, but Lily gripped her t-shirt, stopping her from moving any further way.

“Nope, cuddle time now,” Lily protested.

Natalie wanted to oblige the request, however the faux leather pants she was wearing were practically painted on, and whilst they accentuated her legs wonderfully, they weren’t the most comfortable. “Can we get into pyjamas first?” she suggested.

“A most wonderful idea, Miss Darcy,” Lily agreed, releasing her hold on the t-shirt grasped in her fingers. Natalie shook her head, grazing her lips over Lily’s cheek before she stood, smiling fondly as she watched Lily giggle at her own snooty accent. It was a bit of a chore to drag herself away, but the call of the oversized band t-shirt Natalie had stolen from Kasey at some point over the years was strong. Eventually, she found it beneath her robe, thrown over the back of the armchair nestled into the corner of their hotel room. She was almost able to hear Lily’s smug smirk as she recalled their conversation this morning about storing things in their appropriate places. By the time Natalie had shed her day clothes and pulled the well-worn t-shirt over her head, Lily had already changed into a matching pyjama set, brushed her hair and woven it into a loose braid.

"I don't want to hear a word," Natalie drawled, raising her hand to resemble a stop sign.

"I didn't say anything!" Lily defended, flipping her braid over her shoulder before reaching for her phone. "Do you want music?"

"I could tell you were about to," Natalie retorted, attempting to fold her dirty clothes into her suitcase. Usually, Kasey was the one to complete the seemingly impossible task of getting all the clothes she had brought back into the case at the end of a trip. "Yes please," she nodded, answering Lily's question. "None of that One Direction though."

"I told you that was James!" Lily laughed, making several contemplative sounds before the first notes of a familiar banjo started to play.

Mumford and Sons. The band had been one of Natalie's favourites since forever, but they also reminded her of the long afternoon she had spent with one arm slung around Lily's shoulders, the sun beating down on their necks as they sipped on plastic cups full of some concoction Thomas had formulated. They had sung along to the live music until their voices were hoarse, at which point they'd crawled back to their tent to nap before an evening of more music and alcohol. The almost-kiss that had happened in that tent had been the catalyst they'd needed to discuss the growing sexual tension between the two of them, ultimately leading to this very moment. Natalie threw a look over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow just slightly at Lily. "Nice choice."

Lily hummed scooting backwards, to make herself comfortable against the wall of pillows on the bed. She patted the spot beside her, a warm smile settling over her face, “Come, sit, I’ll do that for you later.”

“You’re an angel, Lilypad,” Natalie beamed, hurrying away from the bulging case before Lily changed her mind. She rounded the bed, jumping onto the free side with a soft “ooft,” crawling into the cocoon Lily had formed with her arms.

“I was so happy on that weekend, so happy and so confused,” Lily murmured as Natalie had wriggled herself into a comfortable position. “I swear I would have just ignored all those weird feelings forever if you hadn’t made me pull my head out of my ass. I will admit having that conversation while making flat pack furniture was a first," she continued, curling a strand of Natalie’s hair around her finger.

Natalie chuckled, remembering how Lily had nearly hammered her thumb off in the process, her attention more focused on the proposal of friends-with-benefits type of relationship than the tool she was wielding. "Hmm, you do look good in a tool belt though," Natalie quipped, playing the tips of her fingers gently over the tattoo peeking out from between the silk shorts and cami Lily was wearing. The tail feathers of the peacock merged beautifully with the scar left behind by the emergency C-section Lily had ended up having to bring baby Harry into the world. “Just remember, this was and always is supposed to be fun, okay? If it’s ever not fun for you anymore then something needs to change,” Natalie hummed.

Lily nodded, releasing the curl of hair and resting her palm on Natalie’s cheek, “You too. This is a two way thing. We both need to be happy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Natalie agreed, nuzzling into the cool of Lily’s hand with a soft sigh. “I’d like a kiss, please? If that’s okay?” she asked quietly. It wasn’t often that Natalie felt shy or uncertain asking for things, but after their recent conversation she didn’t want Lily to get the wrong idea.

“Of course,” Lily replied, her hand wandering to brush across Natalie's lips, as if her fingers were trying to memorise each ridge and curve in them. She bent close, hovering, her breath warm against Natalie’s face as she waited for Natalie to take the affection she wanted. The kiss started off slow and tender, their lips moving softly against one another until Lily pushed insistently into Natalie’s mouth, parting her lips with ease. Natalie's heart didn’t pound in the same way it had the first time they had kissed anymore, but there was something even more special about the familiarity of it all. Her heart didn’t pound, but rather it settled, as if it knew this was part of home. Natalie couldn’t help wrapping her tongue around Lily’s, battling against the intrusion; the taste of tequila lingering from the cocktails they had drunk earlier was sharp amongst the other notes of Lily’s mouth she was well acquainted with. She would let Lily lead soon, but not without putting up the pretence of a fight. “Stop,” Lily laughed, pressing Natalie back against the pillows with a feigned growl. “You’re so competitive.”

Natalie gave an affirmative grunt, her lips curling into a smile, “Mmm, but I win either way.”

“Shut up, and let me kiss you,” Lily scolded playfully, joining their lips again before Natalie could think of a clever reply.

Natalie didn’t know how long they kissed for, drifting between heated and subdued, sometimes just breathing against one another, finally pulling apart when they came to the unspoken agreement that whatever wound needed healing had been. First with words, then with their bodies.

“I know earlier I said you could introduce me to your friend, but I think I’m a bit emotionally drained for new acquaintances tonight,” Lily said, cutting through the silence.

“No, of course. That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for that at a later date,” Natalie nodded. “Any ideas on what we could do though? I’m not feeling a film tonight, but I’m too relaxed for anything that requires any energy,” Natalie mused, her voice still a little breathy.

“We could do a few more chapters of Seven Husbands?” Lily suggested, her features schooled into something that Natalie guessed was supposed to be innocent. It probably would have been successful if Natalie didn’t know her so well.

“You mean I could read a few more chapters to you,” Natalie said, raising an eyebrow.

“Wow, what a wonderful plan,” Lily grinned.

“Uhh huh,” Natalie rolled her eyes affectionately, “I wonder how I thought of it.” She rolled away from Lily a little bit too enthusiastically, swearing as she collided with the bedside table. Shaking off the jolt of pain, she grabbed the paperback. It was an insult to injury when she realised she was going to have to sit up anyway if she wanted to read comfortably. Once Lily had plumped the pillows up, Natalie sat back against them, removing the bookmark and clearing her throat as she began to read.

Lily burrowed further and further under the blankets she had wrapped herself in, until just a pair of green eyes and a flash of red hair was visible. Natalie smiled down fondly at her, not even caring that her voice was starting to feel scratchy. A few pages later, the entire bundle was shaking with Lily’s sobs, her head now buried into Natalie’s lap. Deciding that was her cue to stop reading for the night, Natalie placed the book down and curled her body around Lily’s in a hug. “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively. Whilst she wasn’t one to find herself crying about books, it wasn’t unusual for her to come across Alex sobbing over some fictional character or other and he could be very sensitive about it, despite what he would argue.

“I’ll be fine,” Lily laughed wetly, blinking away tears. “I just want them to be happy. It sucks.”

“It’s just a book, Lilypad,” Natalie chuckled, deciding to risk her wrath.

“You are heartless,” Lily sniffled, trying to bend her head against the blankets to wipe at the damp, without having to untangle herself. Natalie took pity on her, dabbing at the tear tracks, leaving a kiss on each cheek once she was finished. “Thanks,” Lily whispered.

“I’m gonna tell you something, but you have to promise not to shoot the messenger,” Natalie said, distancing herself from Lily a little.

“What?” Lily frowned.

“We still need to brush our teeth,” Natalie rushed out, although she was fairly sure that her eyes revealed the slight glee she was getting from the situation.

The screech that left Lily’s mouth a few seconds later somewhat resembled a pterodactyl.

“Sorry, beautiful,” Natalie tugged at the edges of the blanket. “But teeth hygiene is important y’know.” Lily huffed, but made a vague attempt at helping Natalie release her from the fortress she had created. For all Lily’s complaints, they were both back in bed, cuddled under the sheets less than five minutes later.

“I’ll set an alarm for the morning,” Natalie noted, stretching her arm in the direction of the bedside table, grasping at the air until her fingers grasped around her phone, grunting triumphantly at her success. She had accumulated a few messages over the last few hours. Mostly, she ignored them, but fired off a quick reply to Alex before opening the message from Kasey.

She let out a low whistle, sitting more upright in Lily’s hold as she took in the photo she’d been sent.

“You okay?” Lily asked.

“Well, I don’t think we need to feel guilty about our boys being alone,” Natalie reasoned, turning her screen so Lily could see the photo. James was sprawled across Kasey’s bare chest, his dark hair even more tussled than usual, Kasey’s large hand resting casually on his hip bone. Natalie prided herself on having an eagle eye for who Kasey might be interested in, but she had to admit she hadn’t seen this one coming. Not that she minded one bit.

“Is that?” Lily zoomed in on the picture, looking at the dark mark on the crook of James’ neck. “Huh, interesting,” she hummed, her smile growing wider by the second. “Very interesting. Tell him I said I hope they had fun.”

Natalie didn’t have to wait long for a reply, snorting out a laugh at her boyfriend’s comment. “Kase says James is very good with his tongue,” she told Lily nonchalantly, already tapping out response telling Kasey she was going to sleep now, and for him to have a good night, adding a winking emoji for effect.

“I am aware,” Lily smirked, manipulating the pillows into a more comfortable position for sleeping. Natalie took that as her hint to put her phone down, settling herself close behind Lily, tangling their legs together. They probably wouldn’t stay this way for long, Lily always complaining that Natalie was a human furnace after a few minutes, but it was nice while it lasted.

#Natalie Darcy #Lily Potter #sweater weather #Lumosinlove #cw: alcohol #cw: food #cw:kissing #cw: sex talk #cw: 18+#cw: c-section

11 notes · View notes

hedwigstalons · 4 years ago

Text

Reunion

Something soft for @gumnut-logic‘s Fluffember. There is no way I’ll be able to do 30 separate fics but this kinda covers ‘reassure’, ‘special person’, ‘together’ and ‘bedtime’.

It’s not edited or polished but I wanted to get something out before inspiration abandoned me again.

xoxoxox

Brandon closed the holocall and slumped back on the couch with a contented sigh. Three months. Three long and agonising months in close quarters with the Lemaires for work meant that not only had seeing Alan been out of the question, their calls had been distinctly censored. Or rather the calls had been more guarded after the one attempt at being, ahem, intimate, that Madeline had walked in on. He still cringed at the memory. Nope, calls had been kept distinctly more bland after that incident.

He’d seized on the chance to talk freely the moment he had got home, not even stopping to unpack, and now he was exhausted. A wave of tiredness swept over Brandon, post travel fatigue mixed with the comfortable glow that came from talking to Alan and being back in his own territory. The sighs turned to a yawn which in turn gave way to gentle snores. Barely an hour later he was startled from his nap by a loud and insistent knocking at the door.

***

Alan turned up the track, feeling the road beneath the car getting bumpier and bumpier. While he was grateful to Parker for the lessons that enabled him to make this journey solo, his education in driving had been rather lacking in how to choose an appropriate car; the sleek, red sports car, which had looked perfect on the hire yard forecourt, now felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with the worsening terrain.

He checked and rechecked the address that Brandon had given him, wondering if he had taken a wrong turn but everything tallied up. The bachs that lined the lane at intervals were mostly in darkness, as would be expected for holiday homes out of season, and he struggled to imagine Brandon actually living in one of the small cabins. The one ahead of him, however, showed signs of occupation, a muted light shining out through the glass in the door. He turned into the empty parking spot next to the cabin and killed the engine.

Grabbing his duffel off the passenger seat, the car seemingly lacking a trunk, Alan steeled himself and headed towards the front door. He paused on the step, taking in deep breaths of the air that held the unmistakable tang of snow as it blew down from the nearby mountain. It had felt such a good idea at the time, rushing off to New Zealand the second he closed the call with Brandon, but now he was here he wondered if he was coming across as too needy, too forward. Perhaps he should have waited until morning.

Scott had pencilled in two days off rota the moment Alan had gone to him with Brandon’s return date, two days that he hadn’t dared tell his boyfriend about in case the world conspired against them and ripped that precious time away in a whirlwind of rescues. But for once the world had been obliging and so here he was, bag in hand, about to surprise the man who had barely left his thoughts during their enforced separation. Too late for doubts now, he was here. One more deep breath and he rapped on the door with rather more confidence than he felt.

***

The knocking, loud and unexpected, had Brandon nearly rolling off the couch at the intrusion. Rubbing his eyes he checked the time wondering who the hell could be calling on him at this time of night. It was probably just some lost holiday maker, struggling to find which rental was theirs in the dark and seeking help from the nearest cabin that looked occupied. It wouldn’t be the first time he had had to direct someone further up or back down the track depending on which cabin number they had failed to find. He was almost an unofficial warden for the lane being it’s only permanent resident, not that he was there much of the time himself as this latest work trip had proved.

Brandon hauled himself to his feet, preparing to point the way to whichever lost soul had found his bach this time. He shambled down the hallway, stretching the kinks out as he went, his eyes still bleary as he unlatched the door. He blinked sleepily, his brain not fully registering the sight.

***

From his place on the step Alan could see the familiar silhouette making its way down the hallway. Nervous excitement fluttered in his stomach as he waited for Brandon to open up. The butterflies intensified at the sound of the lock being opened. Moments later there he was, the ginger curls all mussed up and, Alan noticed guiltily, yawning and rubbing his eyes in a way that suggested he’d just woken up.

“Hey,” Alan greeted Brandon, smiling sheepishly.

“Alan?” Brandon steadied himself on the doorframe, exhaustion still keeping tight hold on his body.

“Yeah, uh, can I come in?” New Zealand was far colder than the island and Alan was feeling to temperature drop keenly, it probably didn’t help that he was still only in a t-shirt. Seeing Brandon completely thrown for a loop had him seriously doubting the wisdom of his actions.

“Oh God, yeah,” Brandon stepped to one side to let Alan in, the reality finally sinking in that Alan really was there on his front step, “I just wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I said I’d come as soon as I could,” Alan mumbled in explanation as he followed Brandon up the hallway and towards the lit room at the back of the cabin.

This was the first time that Alan had visited his home, it normally making far more sense for him to go to the island, and Brandon was suddenly uncomfortably aware of just how far removed it was from the opulence of Alan’s usual surroundings. Even on a good day the cabin was pretty shabby and the whole four roomed building could easily fit inside the lounge of the Tracy villa. Now, after three months of sitting empty the bach smelled musty and in need of a good airing, there was also a damp chill in the air which suggested the roof might have sprung a leak somewhere. He had been meaning to spruce the place up a bit before Alan arrived, expecting him in the morning at the earliest; he hadn’t counted on the Tracy definition of ‘soon’ applying to vacation time as well.

Alan followed Brandon into the lounge area and dropped his bag on the floor, noting that his wasn’t the only case in the corner of the room. He was really starting to regret heading over so quickly especially seeing as Brandon hadn’t even looked him in the eye since inviting him in, in fact he hadn’t even turned to face him since they reached the lounge.

Brandon scratched the back of his neck. He’d been foolish to invite Alan to stay. How could his little cabin compare to Tracy Island? He felt the overwhelming need to explain.

“So, welcome to Casa Berrenger. On the flanks of what has to be the greatest mountain in the world.” He gesticulated at blinds that were closed across the picture window. “I mean, I saw this place and thought ‘Hey Brandon, what could be cooler than having Ruapehu as your neighbour’. You might have seen it, in some of my vlogs...”

“Brandon…”

“I filmed the very first one right on the slopes out there. It was, like, totally awesome. It’s still my favourite place to board, hence the cabin. You should come stay when the snow’s right and I can take you on out the slopes, that would be, like, amazing...”

“Brandon…” Alan hadn’t heard Brandon this babbling since he’d helped pluck him off a mountain following an avalanche. Back then he’d initially taken Brandon’s non-stop chatter to be part of his natural exuberance but as he got to know him more he learnt that it was more a sign of nerves, a cover for the insecurities he kept hidden from the viewers.

“Except you’ve probably been there, right? I mean, you’ve been everywhere. But yeah, this little place isn’t much to look at now but in the morning when you can see her,” he waved vaguely at the shut blinds again, “man, the views more than make up for…”

“BRANDON!”

Brandon couldn’t put it off any longer. He turned, hardly daring to meet Alan’s eyes which he was sure would show some sort of contempt at the small space with it’s meagre and mismatched furnishings.

Alan reached out and gently took hold of Brandon’s hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of it. “I don’t care where you live. I didn’t come here to see the mountain. I came because I wanted to see you...because I’ve missed you.”

Brandon looked up to see only warmth and softness in Alan’s gaze. He closed the small gap between them, melting into the embrace as he rested his chin on Alan’s shoulder and felt a fool for worrying that Alan would be so shallow as to judge him on his home. Despite their riches the Tracy family had never shown any signs of looking down on those who had less than them but he’d hardly ever let anyone cross the threshold of his little mountain sanctuary and it left him feeling vulnerable.

“I missed you too, three months is far too long,” he sighed as he gently planted a kiss on the warm neck. Feeling the arms around him pull him in that bit closer he raised his head again so see a need darkening Alan’s eyes, a need that he felt mirrored in himself. “Y’know, I was just off to bed when you got here.”

Alan quirked an eyebrow, knowing full well that Brandon had already been asleep despite being still fully clothed. “Now that sounds like a nice idea, I could probably do with turning in too,” he yawned, “you aren’t the only one that’s been travelling, ‘cept I’ve been working too.”

“Uh, one slight problem,” Brandon smirked. “This place isn’t as large as yours and, uh, there’s no guest room. D’you think Virgil would have a problem with that?” he asked, referring to the rules laid down when they first hooked up which meant he always had a guest room available on the island, even if he never used it.

Alan cocked his head to one side as though giving the issue some serious consideration. “Oh, I think we’ll find a way to manage.” The lust in his eyes deepened as Brandon pulled away and led them back up the hallway towards the bedroom.

“Well then, I think it’s bedtime.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #Alan Tracy #Brandon Berrenger #Spacebears #fluffember2020

29 notes · View notes

memoriashell · 4 years ago

Text

hey i really like you ( can we go out? )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru, techincally some background Ishimaru / Oowada, Makoto gets a few lines, and Syo’s present for a bit in the begining.

crossposted on ao3

Notes: hello here's your late day five of @tokomaruweek week!! valentine's day prompt!!

the format for the texting section might look a little funky on tumblr since there’s no easy way of aligning right side / left side text but hopefully it’s obvious enough who’s texting what.

heads up i'll be skipping day 6 for now probably! i’ll come back to it when i’ve finished the rest of the week, i just might get stuck on it for a hot minute and i’d like to get the rest of the week out of the way first since i'm already behind.

anyways it's probably also noteworthy to mention that this drabble works on the basis you have a basic understanding of the cultural differences in how japan celebrates valentine's day. i was originally going to try and incorporate white day into this drabble instead of just mentioning it but i wasn’t super happy with how this one was turning out anyways and figured it was best to just get this out as it is!!

i also feel like i should clarify bc that i realize the way i characterize toko in everything this week has made it seems like she hates kiyotaka’s guts but honestly i think they’d be real close!! i really like them as two outsider kids who can relate to each other. they are two sides of the same narrative coin and in this essay i will /j anyways please understand she rags on him from a place of ( platonic ) LOVE. and also bc they r both my cc’s i could never be that mean to either of them. well. no meaner than canon is to them.

edit: forgot tws. nothing super huge bc it's mostly fluff, but it does refrence bullying ( although would you consider faked love confessions / etc as bullying? it's just cruel :( anyways. )

Summary: valentine's day has never been good for ugly girls ( and hopeless romantics ) like her.

Valentine's Day. Every girl’s least favorite day.

Or, well, at the very least, her least favorite. Uh, one of her least favorite holidays? Then again, it’s not like Touko really has a ‘favorite’ in the first place, so maybe her point is moot— but she’s getting side tracked here.

One would presume that a romantic like her, an author who writes romance for a living, would live for a holiday that's practically centered around love and romance, but they would be wrong. It’s a miserable reminder of a day for her who has practically been scorned by the idea of relationships. It is a bitter reminder of failed loves and societal norms that she’s never been able to meet.

( Ugly. Rude. Awkward. Unsociable. So what if they’re right? Who is she to tell them they’re wrong? )

If it is not for the fact that she is pretty sure Ishimaru will be at her door if she doesn’t show up, she would probably skip class today. Oh, to be a confident gay man on Valentine's Day and not a closeted lesbian who feels the need to meet heteronormative societal norms. It’s unfair because not only is he ( mostly ) unaffected by this kind of holiday, he’s probably one of the people who care the least about the delicate social intricacies ( and romanticism ) of a holiday like this one. If nothing else, so she can’t say she envies the position this puts Oowada in, because Ishimaru would probably just see this as a learning moment. Anyways before she sounds too envious of her peers for getting their shit together, she just wants it to be unknown that she thinks it’s really unfair that he would get to judge her reasons for wanting to skip school.

( Actually, if she fessed up the deep-seated issues related to why she’d rather not have to be present on a day like today, the last thing he’d do it judge but that’s not really something she wants to acknowledge right now )

Moving on.

Despite the fact that, internally, she is making a fuss about a holiday, she suspects that most of her class probably doesn’t really care about these things. That doesn't mean she feels any less pressured to conform. It’s not like any of them would want chocolates from someone like her anyways, so it’s not like she really needs to be worried...

It’s not the end of the world, stop being such a debbie downer! Syo butts in, ever so helpful. By which she means is very, very unwanted and unhelpful. All the same, they ( unfortunately ) have a point and if she has to put up with this shitty day then at the very least she’d like to have breakfast before someone sees fit to break down her door.

You technically don’t have to do anything. Syo sounds almost too enthusiastic to help with the ‘issue’ at hand.

Using you to escape my problems isn’t always a viable strategy. Touko rebukes. Nor is it a choice, usually.

Only because you try and make yourself as miserable as possible by making things worse for you.

She has nothing to say to that, and instead focuses on braiding her hair to be passably presentable.

“Fukawa-san?” Oh, what she wouldn’t give to not have to hear her name today. Granted, Touko doesn’t think hearing her name being called on any given day is usually a good sign, but it still feels too early in the day to willingly put up with anything and shoots a glare at Naegi, standing in front of her desk. It probably doesn’t help that he sounds nervous for some godforsaken reason, but that’s technically not out of the ordinary, and she’s pretty sure Syo has something to do with that. “Sorry, uh...I was going to try and catch you at your locker this morning, but I guess I must’ve missed you, huh?”

She gives him the most deadpan, withering stare she can muster at the moment as if to say obviously. She’d even turned up to class early because she figured that dealing with whoever else would be in class would be more manageable than having to deal with anything going on in the halls ( because Hope’s Peak is not a normal school and god knows if something can go wrong, it will, and she is not having any of it today ). She assumed that if she looked busy, anyone with any common sense would leave her alone, but Makoto is not the brightest, clearly.

It still kind of throws her for a loop, however, that he chooses to approach her today, of all days. If she were anyone else, or if this exchange happened in any other context, she is sure that him acting like this on Valentine's Day would seem like it was setting up for a love confession. If it weren’t for the fact that Naegi already had a partner so, that’s probably not an issue— not that that would be a theoretical issue, because hey it’s not like Naegi was likely to be the kind of person cruel enough to fake a love confession. That’s definitely not something that’s happened to Touko before and gotten her hopes up only to be horribly crushed and definitely not the reason she’s been particularly defensive today. Nope.

( Yeah, okay, she’s not fooling anyone, but thankfully the only one aware of this is herself. And Syo, but both of these things are clear givens )

It occurs to her that Naegi hasn’t said anything, waiting for her to say something to him, and she grits her teeth irritably. “Wh-What? Spit it out already.”

“Err...are you...” He starts to say something and then seems to think better of it, sheepishly ducking his head for a moment before holding a bag out to her. “Sorry. Komaru asked me to bring these to you. Kirigiri-san had to convince her to not try and sneak into the main building just to bring these to you herself.”

It takes a long minute for her to process what he says before snatching the bag from his grip and holding it close to herself. Friendship chocolates...? That’s probably what’s in the bag. Which is a pretty nice thought in itself— Touko doesn’t usually get gifts like this. It almost makes her not want to touch the bag and ruin the illusion, refrain from eat whatever’s in the bag: but honestly if she doesn’t, Syo will probably make sure to savor it, so she won’t even pretend like that’s an option.

( There’s a part of her that feels a little guilty too, that she hadn’t even considered that Komaru might do something like this and have something prepared for her in return, but if she’d made something and not gotten anything then she’d look like a fool, and it’s not like she would’ve been able to get it to her easily anyways, so she really shouldn’t feel guilty about accepting it, but— )

“I’m glad you like it. She was kind of worried about how you’d take it.” Naegi speaking breaks through her current train of thought and is he still standing here? Had she been stupidly smiling to herself? How embarrassing!

“It’s n-n-not like that...and what kind of person do, do you take me for, anyways...!” Well, if she had been showing any sort of positive emotion on her face, she isn’t anymore. Touko takes this as an opportunity to shove the bag into her book bag, before anyone can notice. For some reason, he looks vaguely disappointed. “I was...ugh, I was just th-thinking that it was surprising she’d trust you with it given the, the track record with how your l-luck turns out!”

Makoto opens his mouth to refute this but thank god someone calls his name from the doorway, and she takes that opportunity goes back to her books before he can try and say anything further to her.

touko-chan!!!!

makoto said he gave you my gift successfully so i know u got it

i think

i didn’t expect u to thank me or anything but it’d be nice

pls tell me u got it right

did u at least read the note i left in there for u

Does Komaru not have homework, or what? She could at least give her a few minutes to try and get a word in. It’s not her fault math is a bitch and Touko is too stubborn to maybe talk to one of her peers into explaining the subject to her.

Yes, by some miracle I did manage to get it.

Thanks.

You’re a good friend.

Sorry.

Is that all? I’m busy.

That is not all, apparently, because Komaru forgoes texting to call her directly. If it were anyone else, she’d ignore it; but since it’s her she figures she can probably talk and do math at the same time.

“So you didn’t check the bag at all?” Komaru speaks before she can even consider greeting her, and Touko rolls her eyes despite the fact that she cannot see it.

“Hello to y-you too. Uh…honestly, I shoved it in my bag earlier and...and haven’t checked on it since. I assumed it was j-j-just candy, and it’s probably safer hid from Syo there.”

“Ugh! I told Makoto to mention to you that I put something else in there. And there’s a box for Syo in there too!” She can practically hear her pouting through the phone line. “Well, uh— I guess that’s fine since you’re busy...? Just check it when you get the chance, okay? Please? I promise it’ll make sense.”

“I got it, I got it. I’ll take a break once I finish this up and check it out. Good enough for you?”

“Mhm! Thank you Touko-chan! I’ll let you go now, so you can focus. Bye!” If Touko wasn’t mistaken ( but probably is ), she sounded almost nervous, the way her words come out in one rushed breath.

Admittedly, now she’s too intrigued by whatever had Komaru pressed enough to make sure she was aware of it, and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to focus now, so...opening the bag it is. She grumbles and groans to herself for a moment, stretching as she gets up from her desk to grab her bag.

She hadn’t really noticed at the time, but now that she thinks about it, there’s some definite weight to this thing, more than she’d expect from some candies ( even now knowing that apparently Komaru had accounted for Syo as well ). Not much though, and she probably would’ve just passed it off for the box the sweet is stored in if she were to really think about it, but now she figures that’s probably not the case. Touko peeks inside the bag a little hesitantly— curiosity wins out over anxiety in the end, and spots what appears to be a small booklet along with a box of chocolates.

Oh god.

She braces herself because, this is probably some kind of manga if she knows Komaru and ( unfortunately ) not a mini-novella but otherwise has no idea what to expect. And once she opens it, she has to thank whatever higher being made sure Makoto didn’t say a thing to her about it because there’s absolutely no way she would have been able to keep a straight face if she’d looked at this in class.

One, she forgot how generally talented Komaru was at this type of stuff. Obviously, still room for improvement, but not nearly as bad as Touko would have thought. Two, this is not really a manga, but a fucking thinly veiled love confession, complete with the most casual ‘Hey I really like you, can we go out?’ Third, she’s extremely glad Komaru did not insist on being on the phone while she checked this out because she does not think she can coherently answer that right now.

In fact, it takes Touko a good half hour to calm herself down enough before she can even consider texting her a response. There’s no way she’s embarrassing herself any further by calling her about it, even if that might have been a more meaningful exchange, but like Komaru just confessed to her through manga so clearly they’re already past that point.

You’re a dork.

I hate that you’re using your talents for this though.

thats not a no?

Not a yes.

Very tempted to make it a no for making me suffer through this.

touko-chan;;;;;

be gentle to my poor heart if ur gonna reject me :(

Ugh. I was kidding.

Yes you idiot.

Just don’t use manga for this stuff next time?

ok!!!!! :)

actually i promise nothing

lol sorry ♡

You’re the worst.

hehehehehe >:)

i love you too!!

are you busy this week??

let’s meet up!!!

Some of us care about our grades. As should you.

But Thursday and Friday are lighter days.

Yeah yeah. I like you or something.

thank uuuuu ♡♡♡

She chews on her lip as she rereads the message and mulls over it as she tries to ignore the flip-flop of her stomach. It’ll be fine. She’ll just aim to have something planned out for White Day in return.

#tokomaru week 2021 #toukomaru #tokomaru #komaru naegi #toko fukawa #touko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes

14 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 5 years ago

Note

I just saw Felix, I am enraged beyond belief, and right now, I want someone to tear this episode and Astruc a new one. And who better than the Salt Fairy?

s-sALT FAIRY?? JDNGKFDG

WELL, WHO AM I TO DENY SUCH A REQUEST?

[Vanilla Graham Crackers]

So, I totally understand the idea that making new models is hard and it’s best to cut corners where one can, but that should only be done if it can be used in a way that doesn’t - you know - reuse two important character models and add almost nothing new to them.

To start off, you have Amelie, Emilie’s twin sister who they obviously reused Emilie’s model for.

Then you have Felix, whose mother’s genes must’ve kicked the tar out of his father’s genes (and the same must’ve happened to Adrien unless Gabriel’s model is reused for Felix’s father’s too if we ever get a flashback/picture but we’re not getting into that) considering that Felix looks like Adrien’s twin rather than Adrien’s cousin (if they pull some sort of thing about Felix actually being Adrien’s twin just as some sort of cheap “gotcha,” I swear–though I doubt it because Amelie has a line about them looking “just like twins” which would be strange for someone who would’ve already known they were twins unless she doesn’t know that they’re twins either because some weird things happened and–I’m getting off-topic…).

Already, these are both new characters who are being introduced in this episode that are edited versions of previous models we’ve seen on the show.

The thing is that I don’t care much if the models are reused, but they should at least have facial structures that look different enough to make them their own characters. At least reverse Amelie’s hair, gosh darn it.

Even Felix, like–I don’t even think any of the characters would find it odd if the “Adrien” in the video had different cheekbones or a different jawline. Felix could even have blue eyes but edit the video to make his eyes green (and then make an excuse as to why his eyes are blue when the villains show up). The Adrien model could be reused but still adjusted so he at least has a different freaking eye style, since those are usually the big thing that gives away the feeling of, “oh, the model is just reused.”

I mean, it makes sense for Felix’s name to be in the title of the episode, but that’s only because he actually got different hair and a different outfit, since even the people who get akumatized in this episode are reused.

Lady Wifi, who’s been seen multiple times in Season 1 and 3 now.

Princess Fragrance, who’s been used the least out of everyone else but has still been seen multiple times (counting scarlet edition Princess Fragrance).

And Reflekta, who’s been used multiple times even if you’re only counting Season 3. Reflekta even makes the least sense out of all the characters since she’s a bad combination with the others. Dark Cupid would’ve even been a better pick since Lady Wifi could freeze someone and then either Dark Cupid could get a clear shot or Princess Fragrance could force them to inhale her perfume.

They don’t even have a proper unique theme to them, like a design that they all share to show that they’re a team. It’s just a repeat of their past akuma forms except Lady Wifi doesn’t have to worry about being defeated in the same way as before I guess (not that they try it anyway)? I don’t question Alya being the only one to get an upgrade because the tablet is hers, but when we’ve already had an episode where a tablet was used as a “hey akuma, aim here” object, and the people who held it combined in that one because they had a shared goal, only to have this one be different and just turn them into separate forms?

Yeaaaah, no, that’s weird. That’s just weird. It’d be one thing if they were sure that there were two Adrien around and they needed to be separated so they could cover multiple people, but they’re not aware that Felix is around nor that he disguised himself as Adrien, requiring them to cover multiple grounds (and even then, that doesn’t need three of them).

I’ll say again that I don’t mind repeat akuma, but it has to make sense. Stormy Weather 2 and Gamer 2.0 made sense to come back even though I didn’t like their episodes or the messages behind them, but Reflektdoll and the Trio of Punishers here?

No, just–no.

(this is also once again keeping the “girl squad” quota in place which everyone knows I dislike; I just want the boys to be more involved sometimes and not have anyone’s involvement be based on what gender they are)

(also also, Ladybug defeating all of them in a few seconds demonstrates how incompetent they are as a team; defeating Nathalie is not a high bar for efficient villainry)

So, already with that, the episode is bland and doesn’t provide anything interesting; even Felix disguises himself as Adrien perfectly later on, so the model that was edited in any sort of significant way changes back to its oRinGaL fOrM partway through the episode just for the like, two viewers who couldn’t tell that he’s a duplicate of Adrien structurally.

Heck, and even once Felix does disguise himself as Adrien, he’s still making very “Adrien” faces. The camera switching from Adrien to Felix (disguised as Adrien) when the villains show up is a perfect example.

Same face, same pose. It’s like they’re the same person at times (and no, I don’t believe that Felix is that good of an actor when he just got jumped by three teenage girls in outlandish clothing who came out of the phone in his hands).

There’s also the plot with Gabriel and the twin rings. Firstly, the opening is basically the one from “Chat Blanc” with the ring detail added. I remember seeing “Chat Blanc” and then being weirded out when “Felix” hit like, “Wait, is this–?”

Even disregarding that, there’s a certain awkwardness to Gabriel’s behavior. Of course, we all know that Emilie is actually alive and (un)well, so Gabriel being upset with Adrien isn’t entirely wrong (since, to Gabriel, it sounds like his son is supporting him having an affair), but for Gabriel to lash out in an almost childish manner when we’ve seen Gabriel hold Nathalie/Mayura tenderly and we can see that they have something going on, it seems extremely unprompted and just an excuse for Gabriel to not have to tell Adrien that he’s Hawk Moth.

It also brings up the question as to what changed between Gabriel saying that he already wished that he could tell Adrien what he was doing since Adrien would understand, compared to now where Gabriel is completely okay with telling Adrien.

Everything’s too up in the air, too vague, and nothing hits like it should. The episode throws five shots at its viewers at once (”Amelie and Felix,” “The Twin Rings,” “Gabriel Almost Telling Adrien That He’s Hawk Moth,” “Three People Getting Akumatized at Once,” and “Marinette Successfully Sending a Confession to Adrien”) but none of them strike properly. They’re all fighting for screentime to the point where we don’t even see Alya’s more detailed reaction to “Adrien” rejecting Marinette’s confession (she looks slightly more annoyed than everyone else, I guess) when Alya had made such a big deal about Marinette confessing beforehand (I’ll forgive her just this once for flashing her tablet, unprompted, in Marinette’s anxious face since Alya largely does nothing bad outside of that). The episode tries too hard to be big and impactful but misses the mark because none of the things it’s trying to do can play out in a way that makes it feel like they’re important.

Amelie and Felix don’t have original models.

The twin rings haven’t been brought up in any significant way before.

Gabriel and Nathalie talk about Adrien knowing about the Hawk Moth thing once and then presumably give up with no explanation as to why Gabriel isn’t going to try again since Adrien clearly just misunderstood him.

The three people getting akumatized end up turning into forms we’ve seen before, all of which have been in this season, even if it was sparingly.

Marinette’s confession doesn’t even get misinterpreted by Adrien; it’s viewed by Felix and promptly deleted.

Oh yeah, and then there’s THAT scene…

[Consententious]

Alright, so I can’t really talk about this scene without talking about the supposed reason for why this episode exists.

For the 0.01% of people who aren’t aware, Felix is the original Adrien from the Miraculous PV, which is what Miraculous Ladybug used to be before it became the show it is now. Astruc has said, time and time again, that he did not like this character and that was why Adrien had replaced him.

The fandom clung to Felix, however. People were still interested in the “what-ifs” and “what could’ve been”s, especially as situations rose in-show where people felt like Felix would’ve reacted in a way that was different/better than how Adrien would have reacted.

Astruc was the one most known for disliking Felix, but another thing he was known for was lying to people in order to keep future things in the show a secret.

You know that scene in “Kwamibuster,” where Tikki keeps something from Marinette, and when she then tries to explain something else to Marinette, Marinette points out, “You see, the problem now is that I’m always going to wonder if you’re lying or not”?

Yeah, that’s basically the fandom with Astruc. Whether Astruc’s behavior was justified or not, it’s harder to believe what he says when he openly admitted to lying to everyone.

This brings us back to Felix. In terms of what Astruc has told us on him, it’s been inconsistent, to say the least.

He claimed that Adrien was created because Felix wasn’t an interesting character, then said that Felix was interesting even though he wasn’t fit to be a hero despite later claims of Felix being a weak character who was more of an anime cliche, which was then further uprooted by outright stating that Felix was bad/evil.

Essentially, regardless of what has been said about this episode’s existence, this entire episode feels like a response to the side of the fandom that firmly believes that Felix would have been better than Adrien, and that looks bad because such episodes tend to never go over well with the fandom.

- Felix is shown as cold and unfeeling whereas Adrien is understanding if a bit solemn.

- Felix and Adrien are compared directly by both having a dead parent who died recently.

- Felix reacts negatively to Adrien’s behavior whereas Adrien tries to excuse Felix’s actions and be a good person.

- Plagg (who Felix would’ve had in the PV) is given a MUCH bigger input on things than he usually is, even to the point of comparing Felix and Adrien directly. The episode also has Felix ruining a piece of cheese in Plagg’s stash, whereas Plagg is typically not directly affected by the actions of other characters.

- Felix’s actions of rooting through Adrien’s things may or may not be a comparison to Lila (another character that Astruc doesn’t like) from “Oni-chan,” who riffled through Adrien’s things while Adrien was distracted. This is further supported by Plagg calling out both of these to Adrien and Adrien excusing both of them.

- Felix literally disguising himself as Adrien and Marinette not only noticing the facade straight away, but proclaiming angrily that Felix!Adrien is “not Adrien.”

- Felix implied to even be emotionally weaker than Adrien by his face at Chat’s comment about him not having many friends, his face in response to Marinette’s confession, and Adrien asking him to call if he needs support.

And then, we have the big scene where Felix (disguised as Adrien) tries to force a kiss on Ladybug, in which there’s a clear “no means no” message followed by a punch to Felix’s face.

Now… first off, yes, this is obviously yet another jab at the comparison between Felix and Chat. Felix tried to force a kiss on Ladybug whereas Chat has–

…well, he’s never gotten one off, at least, and stops when something happens (either Ladybug gets pulled back into the fight or she stops him with a hand/her words).

This is also shown by how Ladybug states post-punch that “Adrien would never be so pushy,” immediately followed by Chat Noir showing up and insulting Felix.

…Yeah, I’ll tackle the message first.

While this idea of “no means no” is nice and all, it ignores the nuance of what actually means “yes.” The forced kiss still would have been wrong if it’d been towards someone like Juleka, who would’ve locked up at the sight of someone trying to force themself on her, or someone like Rose, who may’ve been completely oblivious as to what the forcer would’ve been doing until it was too late. It might seem like a small thing, but just saying “what part of ‘no’ did you not understand?” leaves the obvious loophole of “WELL, if they DON’T say ‘no’ then that makes it okay.”

As for Chat, well… the setup not only didn’t make sense as a comparison to him, but it doesn’t function as a comparison in the episode itself.

See, the setup is wrong because Felix is not doing this because he’s a creep. He’s not someone who’s crushing on Ladybug and disguised himself as Adrien in hopes that she would favor him and let him kiss her.

In fact, Felix is fully aware that kissing someone without their consent is wrong; the reason he’s doing it is to ruin Adrien’s reputation.

Would Felix actually do that if he were lusting over Ladybug or crushing on a girl legitimately? We don’t know, and that’s exactly why Felix and Chat’s actions are not comparable.

This isn’t a case of, “Character B and C are attracted to Character A. Character C stops when told/prompted to stop whereas Character B continues despite those things.” Chat and Felix have entirely different motives when trying to kiss Ladybug.

Chat leans in for a kiss multiple times and is stopped by either Ladybug or whatever’s happening around them. Even if he stops when told/prompted to, he starts back up, whether it’s later in the episode or in a later episode beyond it.

Felix’s actions are wrong and I will not deny that, nor will I compare him directly to Chat and say that one is worse than the other.

I will just say: Felix is aware that he’s doing something scummy and is doing so to make someone he dislikes look bad. Chat may be aware that he can’t proceed with a kiss if Ladybug denies it or prompts him to back off, but he still tries over and over to flirt and/or lean in for a kiss in hopes that she’ll return it eventually. Whatever form of “no” Ladybug gives him (as it can come in many forms), Chat still believes that trying again later is perfectly fine and that asking is not necessary no matter how many times she’s denied him or rejected his feelings.

As for why the setup doesn’t function, it’s because we, in this episode, do not have a direct comparison between Felix’s advances and Chat’s. Chat isn’t given the screentime to properly flirt with Ladybug or try to make any sort of advance on her, so there’s no “that was Felix, this is Chat,” moment.

Is that because the writers were aware that Chat’s behavior is still not up to speed with how people should act in reality? Maybe, maybe not, but the point is that they didn’t have it.

Now, that said, there indeed was a character in the episode who made it very clear (both through his body language and through his words) that he respected the actions, space, and choices of the one he was in love with.

But, who was that again…?

O O P S

Like, look, I’m not getting into Luka’s role in the episode (though I’ll just say that, while I adore the boy, this wasn’t the episode for him and - had I not needed to go into other subjects - I definitely would be rambling about the disservice both he and Marinette get in general), but I’m just pointing out the very obvious misstep taken. If this episode was a response to the fandom, I guess one could argue that this is knocking any idea of Felix being Marinette’s other love interest instead of Luka, but when people think of “someone trying to kiss Marinette/Ladybug,” Luka is not going to be the first one who comes to mind; that’s gonna be Chat and the writing dropped the ball entirely because it couldn’t pull it off without having to address his behavior or risk sending an, “only no means no,” message.

Oh, and speaking of dropping the ball, even Felix doesn’t get dropped entirely, because the writing didn’t even do Felix dirty CORRECTLY.

[Failing Felix]

Just for a moment, let’s roll (completely roll, this time) with the idea that this entire episode is a response to the side of the fandom who really liked Felix and preferred him over Adrien.

By that logic, the standard thing to do would be to make Felix as evil and possible and make everyone hate him, yes?

However, that “standard thing” is completely missing from this plot.

Felix, by the end of the episode, already has two motives.

The first is stated outright by the end, though could also be inferred early on as well: Felix wanted to get the twin rings back for his mother. In addition, it is not for his own selfish gain, as he isn’t even aware that his mother wanted to get the rings back so she could give them to him.

Felix wanted to get the twin rings back because his mother had told him that they were part of their family, not Gabriel’s, and Felix sought to retrieve them himself.

The second motive is for his actions outside of Gabriel, which is him judging Adrien and trying to ruin Adrien’s reputation.

Even Felix’s bitterness towards Adrien is showcased, though in small doses.

When Adrien apologizes to Felix for not going to his father’s funeral, Felix retorts with,

“You always do everything your father tells you to do?”

Right there is Felix’s problem with Adrien: he views Adrien as a doormat (a common fan complaint anyway tbh). This is not helped when Adrien excuses his father’s actions with a smile (which may come off as insensitive; Adrien, be UPSET by your father, not sheepishly smiling about what he did) by saying that his father is “very protective.”

Felix only initiates his stealing of Adrien’s things after this scene takes place; immediately after this takes place, as a matter of fact.

The other key interaction that takes place is when Felix enters the mansion. He reaches out for a handshake, but Adrien goes in for a hug.

Adrien doesn’t know that a hand reaching out in a handshake gesture isn’t consent.

Already, Adrien has come off as touchy, unable to read Felix’s gestures, and possibly insensitive.

Further on are Felix’s comments on the things he finds in Adrien’s phone:

Adrien’s obvious crush on Ladybug - Felix sees it as idiotic which… yeah, it would look like a childish celebrity crush without context

Nino’s video - 90% sure the reaction there was the “teenage” version of how Gabriel judged Nino in “Bubbler;” pretty standard rich boy judgment

Rose’s video - …I’m sorry, I can’t blame Felix for that one; that was so overly gushy and cheerful that I winced

Max’s video - Felix doesn’t seem like the type to like jokes and he also thinks that whole thing is weird (also not knowing that Markov is “real”); could go either or on how out-of-place his comment was.

Chloe’s video - Felix doesn’t like Chloe and I can’t blame him for that one either.

Marinette’s video - Felix has a different reaction to this one and I imagine he either thinks that Adrien is dating Marinette (and could think it’s pathetic for a variety of reasons from “Adrien is already crushing on Ladybug” or “the doormat boy has a girlfriend”) or thinks that Marinette confessing over video is pathetic

Even when Felix goes against Ladybug and Chat, he’s probably realized at that point that impulsively impersonating Adrien won’t get him anywhere close to sleight-of-handing Gabriel’s ring away. Also, Ladybug punched him (regardless of her reason why) and Chat insulted him despite only knowing things about him from what he heard from someone else.

None of this excuses any of Felix’s actions, but it is a reason that is introduced within the episode where said actions take place.

Unlike, say, Chloe, whose mother was shown off in the season after Chloe herself first appeared, giving us no context, reason, or motive for her behavior outside of “she’s a spoiled brat.”

Felix also did manage to come up with a convincing enough apology to get Gabriel to shake his hand, allowing Felix to safely snatch one of the twin rings away to return to his mother.

I don’t think anyone is complaining about Gabriel getting screwed over after “Chat Blanc,” just saying.

Even athletically, Felix scores a one-handed point in basketball with his back turned to the hoop, and he can go toe-to-toe with three akuma at once.

He even has a hobby in doing magic tricks, said hobby allowing him to steal Gabriel’s twin ring. Characters having hobbies is an important thing for fleshing them out, and Felix weirdly just… has one, and one that benefits him.

So, is Felix’s presence in the show an insult due to having a repeated character model and being used as a forced comparison to Adrien? Yes.

Does that mean he’s not workable in any form and can’t be used for the fandom’s desires?

Not really, no. At least, I certainly don’t think so.

The reality is that Felix was never a warm person, PV or otherwise, and his initial reaction to Adrien (”I don’t like you. You hugged me without my asking you and you let your father walk all over you.”) is honestly something I’d expect of him.

It’s when combined with the already terrible ideas of the episode and the convoluted nature of things that everything (including him) turns into a problem.

#category: salt #category: crtique #episode: Felix #category: long post #word count: over 3000 #other: ask and answer #((I'm with Punch on this one.))#((The episode itself is bad but Felix isn't as bad as he could've been.))

733 notes · View notes