#i actually worked on it over the course of a couple of days because it was so long but i had
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Happier than ever
Part 1
Pairing: Nam-gyu × Reader × The Salesman
Warnings: Drug Usage, Overdose, Death, Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Suicide, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Mentions of Rape, Domestic Violence, Domestic Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Anger Issues, Depression, Long Backstory, Minors do not interact!
Nam-gyu and you were a couple for the last eight years. But after you decide you had enough of his anger issues, you leave him and try to be happy on your own. Oh, how naïve you are.
Author's note: Okay, everyone.😩 I know you're waiting for the next part of "Your girl" and trust me, I am, too! I'm sorry that I haven't come up with it yet, but I needed to get my mind off of it for a moment, because I don't want to just write anything and publish it like that - the story means too much to me. I can't publish it unless I'm happy with it, but I promise you, I'm working on it. Until then, I started to furiously hit the key board and this happened. Whatever this is, it is Part 1 of it and I'm doing a Part 2, I just don't know when yet. I love you! 🤍 Lana
Loving Nam-gyu wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.
In fact, it was almost impossible on most days.
But there was a part of you, a thing, a quiet voice – something that needed to be reassured, that felt like maybe you were the problem.
There had been good days, hadn’t there? Your birthday and the way he woke you up with pancakes every year. Of course they turned out horrible and were barely edible. They were raw on the inside and somehow, he still managed to burn them. But he made them for you. The memory still made you smile, despite everything.
Then there was the day you had your big ballet performance. You had spent so many months rehearsing, trying to be perfect. You went all Natalie Portman on that performance. Since the moment you’d been told you got to play Odette, you were fire and flame, spending every waking moment trying to be everything you pictured in your head. It was hard, very hard even. But you had the great hope that, if maybe you did well enough, they would come.
Your family would come and watch. They’d finally show you that they did indeed love you, that you weren’t just a burden or an accident. They would come and they would be proud of you. Your father would set his work phone down, your mother her pills. They would be there. For you.
But of course, they didn’t. You should have known better. It was your own fault, hoping and praying for something that was never going to happen. You should have known.
And still, the moment the curtain lifted and you glanced along the rows and rows of people, you felt disappointed. But you didn’t feel disappointed like normal people would, no. It was you after all. You felt devastated. You felt all of your creativity leave your mind. Your body slowly forgot the choreography. Your eyes glistened with tears. And your life was over.
You had your own issues. He had his anger. You had your world endings.
That was until the door flew open after everyone was already seated, waiting for the show to begin. A few heads turned and your gaze quickly flashed towards the now open door, revealing the face of the mysterious newcomer. He was out of breath and his hair was a mess, his cheeks glowing red and the look in his eyes pleading.
It was Nam-gyu.
You had just had the greatest argument of your life so far, throwing around dishes and screaming your lungs out at each other. Not even twelve hours had passed since then, so you were more than sure that he wouldn’t come. After all, he was the least reliable person you knew, alongside your family. And that fight had been particularly bad. You actually didn’t expect to ever see him again.
But there he was, his appearance disheveled and his eyes pleading with you. Pleading with you to forgive him, pleading with you to dance.
Dance.
You remembered the way you felt. The way your disappointment suddenly turned into something different, something hopeful and warm.
Something good.
He was good.
He was yours.
And you were his.
In that moment, there was nothing else. Everything around you faded into a dark cloud and all you could focus on was him and the way he stood in the middle of the audience, staring up at you. The world was quiet and everything smelled like flowers. The perfection you were striving for was suddenly there and it had nothing to do with your performance.
It was a slow dance, slow and sensual, between your souls.
Until suddenly the music started and your body remembered the movements again.
And you were indeed perfect.
Unfortunately though it wasn’t always like that. Most of the time, he was simply complicated. When he wasn’t drugged out of his mind, he was angry. Not at all the time – but easily. All you had to do was say the wrong thing and he’d explode. And you’d explode right back, right into his face.
“I fucking hate you!”
“Shut the fuck up, you dumb slut!”
“Who are you calling a slut?! You son a bitch!”
“Say that again!”
It always ended the same way. You sobbing on the floor, him slamming the door shut and disappearing. That were the good fights.
The bad ones were different. You couldn’t count the times you had been forced to take shelter in the bathroom, quickly locking the door, too afraid to let him even close to you. Of course you knew how to fight back. You didn’t let him get away with slapping you, oh no, you kneed him right in the balls so he’d know better not to fuck with you. He’d normally collapse and the fight would be over. But sometimes, on especially bad days, he got that look on him.
It wasn’t careful or hesitant. No, it was murderous and terrifying. You always knew there was something dangerous about him. That was probably what drew you in at first. But this…It was different. When he got that look, when the drugs clouded his mind like that, you were truly afraid of what he might do. And so you locked yourself in and listened to the way he pounded against the door, ready to break it down. So far, he hadn’t. A part of him was still in there, even when got like that.
But you didn’t want to push your luck.
After eight years of up and down, back and forth and through the gates of Hell, you finally left him for good. At first he probably didn’t believe it. After all, you had pulled the leaving card a million times before. But somehow you always ended up back in his bed, with him fucking your brains out and calling it making up.
But this time, you meant it. It had been a pretty normal Tuesday. You were at work, waiting tables and cleaning up after your mindless customers. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it paid the bills – albeit, barely.
After your father left and married a woman hardly any older than you and you found your mother on the bathroom floor, cold and stiff, her eyes wide and her chin and hair covered in foam and puke, you decided couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t be that anymore.
You moved in with Nam-gyu. It started off well at first. He was as cute as ever, when he was sober. Sure, you had fights already, but they were mostly trivial. Yelling was involved, throwing furniture around as well, but he never got violent with you so far.
He found a job, as did you and you paid your apartment together. It was tiny of course, but it was enough. You bought groceries and washed laundry. You even had some spare money to buy furniture and decorations. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. You did everything the way you always pictured it.
You had been with Nam-gyu since you turned seventeen. You met back in school and immediately fell in love with him. He had been so sweet. Acting overly confident and arrogant, of course, but it was just a front which you immediately realized. Under all that he was actually rather silly. He made you laugh without even trying. Even he seemed surprised by how good you two matched. So far he’d been going through life, acting like everyone was beneath him. But in reality, he wasn’t popular. He was a bully. He was mean, with a cruel streak. But never to you. No, when someone dared to speak up their mind against you, he was there, ready to break their jaw. You formed a friendship of sort. He was protective and extremely possessive, while you were caring. His family was a bunch of assholes, just like yours was and neither of you had any real friends.
Most of your friends were other dancers and neither of those were really sentimental. Sure, it was enough to go out for a salad sometimes, but you really weren’t one for bulimia and cigarettes. Most of them were, unfortunately.
You loved food. You loved to eat and you appreciated every bite. You’d grown up rather lonely on your own, praying every night for a sibling or a real friend. Someone you could talk to, about real problems. Your ballet friends though? Whenever they asked you how you felt, they didn’t actually want to know. They were just being polite.
Nam-gyu was just as lonely, though he wouldn’t have ever admitted it. He had friends, who were to no one’s surprise, also a bunch of assholes. Some of them were just bullies, others were straight-up rapists.
“What do you mean, you changed your mind? Are you dumb? Shut the fuck up and take it. You agreed to this!”
Nam-gyu wasn’t. It was another thing he wouldn’t have admitted to out loud, but the thought of fucking someone while they were out of it was something he wasn’t after. A thing that really turned him on was to see the pleasure on the other person’s face. The moans, the sighs. He wouldn’t get that if he just made them take it. And so he didn’t. But he tried to keep a straight face, when his friends shared their immoral stories of last weekend. He tried to laugh, when they spoke about the way the girls curled up in self-hatred after they left them there, their cum leaking out of them.
That was until one of the girls ended up killing herself.
She had been super sad and melancholic for as long anyone could remember. She was rather quiet and no-one really spoke to her. She wasn’t weird or anything, just really shy. That was enough to get bullied. She was an obvious virgin and rather closed-off. A good challenge. A great bet.
So, one of his friends placed a bet with the others. Fuck the girl.
“No way that weirdo is letting you anywhere close to her.”
And she didn’t, at first. She didn’t trust anyone around, because people normally made fun of her. But that guy, who went by Nic, was a real good actor. He didn’t walk up to her and just made advances. No, he played shy around her. Sweet. Funny. He managed to tickle a smile out of her. A laugh. And he didn’t just do it once. He did it for days. Weeks. Two months. He played her boyfriend. Her sweet, shy boyfriend. Until her front slowly crumbled and she fell in love with him. Deeply. So much that she actually decided to give Nic her first.
According to Nic it had been nothing out of the ordinary, but Nam-gyu knew it was more than that. He could read the people around him fairly well, and he could also see the way Nic’s pupils dilated, the way his heart skipped a beat, whenever his sweet, little girlfriend was around.
But his friends, his friends, they were constantly at his back.
“Did you finally fuck her?”
“Did you stretch that weird little cunt, huh?”
“Don’t tell me you’re falling for that Wednesday Addams bitch.”
Nic had a reputation to uphold. And so he did what he deemed necessary. He had sex with her and then he dumped her. But not like any normal person would. No, he made fun of her in the worst ways and ended up sending her nudes to anyone who was interested.
The same nudes he had begged her to send him, to trust him, for only his eyes.
And the next day, the gruesome news were heard over speaker.
She was dead. Jumped off her apartment building, right into her death.
Nic had a mental breakdown. No-one else from his group really cared. No-one except for Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu spent the rest of the day in his car, staring down at the steering wheel and trying not to throw up.
You had heard the news of course and you were devastated. You hadn’t known the girl, but you had never been mean to her. You actually remembered a few interactions you had. You knew there had been something going on between her and Nam-gyu’s friend. But naïve, little you had had the hope that it wasn’t a trick. How stupid you had been.
You spent the rest of the day looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Right when you already thought maybe he wasn’t at school at all, you saw his car. He was inside and God, he looked horrible. With red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands, all day. You tried your best to comfort him, but it was futile. He felt guilty. Someone was dead. And maybe, just maybe, if he had intervened in time…
You tried to make him understand that it wasn’t his fault, not entirely. He never spoke to his friends again.
You’d later find out, that was the day he took his first injection. So far all he had been doing were mushrooms and weed, but Hell, who hadn’t?
You spent more and more time together, because he firmly ignored everyone who was so damn fucked in the head. He was trying to be good, he was trying so hard. Life hadn’t been easy on him, not at all, but he still tried.
A month later, you had your first kiss. Another three days later you had sex. It was your first time and he was being surprisingly gentle and considerate. You loved thinking back to it, because you didn’t regret it at all. No matter what else happened between you afterwards, you could never regret giving your virginity to him, because it meant so much to you. And it seemed to mean even more to him.
Two years later, it was safe to say you were made for each other. Even long after being out of school, you were still a couple. He still got these angry outbursts sometimes, but you tried to understand him. He had grown up, feeling unseen and unloved by anyone. As did you. You weren’t angry per say. But you got angry, when he did. You had these desperate mood swing. And whenever something didn’t go your way, you felt like the world was ending. You felt everything intensely.
Love was great. It was all-consuming. You loved him in the same way he did. You adored him. Anger was different. It felt suffocating. Sadness wasn’t sadness, but depression. And despair was enough to nearly kill you.
You tried going to university, but that didn’t work out, because your father left and so you had no chance to pay the tuition. Nam-gyu never even bothered to try, because he knew he would fail anyway, but he tried whatever he could to make your dream work. You wanted to work with animals, heal them, help them, do whatever you could to make someone’s life better. But despite all your – and his – efforts, it didn’t work out. It was simply too much. He was heartbroken when you were forced to leave school, because of your selfish prick of a father. But it was alright.
You’d find another job. You could still make it in life, even without university. Everything was good.
That was, until you couldn’t afford your dance practice any longer.
That was heartbreaking.
One day, you came home after a long day of playing cashier, only to find your mother had stolen all the money you had saved so far. She took it to buy pills or whatever else. You couldn’t even be mad at her, because she lay passed out in the doorway to her room.
You had no money. And all your dreams were dead.
By the time that happened you were far into twenty-one, so you knew that life was cruel and you turned more and more bitter.
Nam-gyu was simply angry, but there was not much he could do. His parents threw him out at nineteen, so he had been paying his own rent since then. He tried speculating with cryptocurrency, but that didn’t work out. He played it down, but you knew he lost quite the amount of his own savings.
A year later your mother died and you finally moved in together. So far you hadn’t been able to leave her on her own, but now that she was gone, you couldn’t stand to live in the same place where she had died. The cemetery of what could have been. Countless dour memories, not a single one good.
You had never had a particularly good relationship, but she was your mother nonetheless. The sight of her dead body and horrified face, it haunted you in your sleep. You spent more than one night, waking up screaming, sweating and clutching the linens. Luckily, Nam-gyu was there to catch you, before you ever managed to fall into the deep pit that was your mind.
He managed to calm you down somehow, every time. He was perfect. The perfect boyfriend.
Until he wasn’t.
You hated when he did drugs, especially so after what had happened to your mother. And so he said he wouldn’t, but it was obviously just to pacify you. You always noticed when he did it nonetheless, you knew the dazed look in his eyes, the paleness of his skin. Whenever he refused a meal, it was obvious to you. Normally, he’d choke down everything you cooked like a starved animal, but there were days when he picked at his food and that was always the first indication.
His short responses, his temper, suddenly so easily flared. It didn’t take long for your first real argument to break out. It was fine, up until the point when you saw his hand twitch. Obviously, you shot him a murderous look, daring him. If he dared to hit you, you’d break his fucking jaw.
And he refrained. For then.
Things went mostly normal, until the next fight. That time he wasn’t so gentle. Things got out of hand and he pushed you against the wall, smashing your head against it in the process. For a moment, you were simply stunned – and even he seemed to be. He stopped before he could cause any greater damage.
Things went between good and bad, it was a constant battle for dominance. One day was good, the next day horrible. You couldn’t even look at him without earning a harsh comment. You’d ignore him firmly for the rest of the day and eventually he’d come crawling back, begging you to let him back inside the bedroom. He didn’t mind the couch, he just missed you. And somehow you always forgave him, far too easily. Sometimes he did change for a while. Surprised you with flowers or his sad attempts at cooking. Every time he messed up a scrambled egg, you couldn’t help but get weak. He was so silly, it was endearing. Yet at the same time, you knew there was something dark within him. Most likely the drugs, but you could never tell for sure.
Maybe this was just who he was.
Things got better and worse again, until one night, he snapped. You had a fight about one of your co-workers, who he considered a threat. You never understood it, because to you it was so obvious that you never wanted anyone else. Despite your problems, you stayed fiercely loyal to him. You loved Nam-gyu. And a part of you still believed that in the end, things would turn out good. Maybe they would, right?
But that night was bad. He got so furious and when he yelled at you, the walls seemed to shake. You were normally so eager to fight back, so strong, but that day something was different. You were on your period and just a few hours earlier, you had met a dance friend of yours. She told you, she was sure that, if you had stayed, you’d be famous by now. But she wasn’t kind about it. She was subtly looking down at you, shaming you for the way your life had turned out. It made a tight knot form in your stomach and you felt your resolve slowly crumble. All you wanted was to cry, but even that didn’t work, because you came home to a furious Nam-gyu.
Your shoulders slumped and you refused to look at him, which only ever made him angrier.
You didn’t see the slap coming, but once it happened, you couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t forget the anger and the disappointment that welled up in you. When you looked up at him, you expected the tiniest bit of regret or guilt, but there was nothing. He was too deep in his bubble of anger and substance, to see clearly. He got more and more furious and you knew; if you didn’t hide then, he’d do something worse. It was the first night you hid yourself away in the bathroom, one of many to follow. You always told yourself it were the drugs. He was so sweet when he was sober, so gentle and loving. You kept telling yourself, things would be good one day. They would turn out well. With time and patience.
Until you snapped.
You were at work, staring off into the distance. You had been out of it all day, because you spent the previous night locked in the bathroom, until he finally passed out around four in the morning. You snuck out and made your way to your workplace, where you opened more than three hours early. You had nowhere else to go. No family, no friends, no one. Only you and your pain. All day you spent trying to cover the dark marks on your wrists, but no one seemed to care anyway. People went about their own lives and problems and you were just their co-worker, their waitress.
You stood silently, watching an elderly couple whose order you had just taken. They were so sweet, like they came right out of a movie. He held the door open for her and pulled her chair back. He caressed her cheek and she never flinched when he reached out his hand for her. They smiled at each other with such a tenderness, it brought tears to your eyes. That was the exact moment. That was the moment you realized you didn’t want to continue on living like this.
You wanted more. You deserved more.
You made your way back and gathered most of your things while he was still at work. Of course it wasn’t the most intelligent approach, but it was all you could do. You knew, the moment you sat down and tried to explain to him that you were going to leave him, he’d find a way to convince you to stay. It had been eight years, after all. Eight years on and off, eight years up and down. Drugs, violence, lies – at least he never cheated on you.
You’d keep that in tender memory of him. As well as the countless times he had comforted and fought for you. All the times he made you laugh, all the times he made you feel loved. The greatest sex you would ever have, no doubt.
But you still packed your things and left like a ghost. After eight years.
He tried to contact you of course, the moment he came home. But you took your paycheck and went to a motel. Whenever he tried to find you at work, you hid in the kitchen. Your co-workers tried to calm him down, to tell him that you didn’t work there any longer, but he saw through the lie. He got loud and furious, which you could kind of understand. You stayed in the kitchen, crying to yourself and feeling incredibly guilty, but you didn’t ever come out.
He kept coming, but it got less and less frequent. From what your co-workers told you, he seemed less and less like himself. The thought broke your heart and nearly made you go back.
You were constantly in your head, making more and more mistakes at work, until your boss’s patience finally snapped. When you messed up the third customers giant bill, he fired you. You instantly panicked, because you were sure, now you had to go back.
You even drove around in your car, trying to get a glimpse of him in the apartment. But to your horror, you didn’t see Nam-gyu in the window. It were other people, some couple actually. And when you tried to call him, the number wasn’t available. Suddenly, he was a ghost and you were knee deep in horse shit.
It didn’t take long for your money to go and so you ended up panicking. You had to leave the motel soon and if you didn’t get a job – you’d end up homeless. Which was as good as dead.
A few days later, after you realized that you seemed to have no special talents and that no one really cared to hire you, you sat at the metro station. You had only one option left or so you thought. Le girls girls girls. You were a dancer. You were graceful. You were too good for this.
But it was all you could do. After all, the girls didn’t have to indulge in any immoral transactions. They were just dancing, right? Fine, in light clothing, but still dancing. You could do that.
You were deep in thought, your eyes closed and your head leaned against the wall behind you, when you heard someone’s voice.
“Care for a game of Ddakji?”
This was when your life took a dark turn.
You eyed the handsome stranger with suspicion. It was super odd. A man going down the path of middle age, slicked-back hair, wearing a suit and a briefcase on him.
And he was asking you to play a game with him?
You frowned and glanced around.
“I don’t know what you want, but you won’t get it from me.”
He smirked and tilted his head to the side innocently.
“I don’t want anything. Just a little game. That’s all. You got something to win here. I got money.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not a fucking hooker.”
He smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And I told you, all I want is to play a game. Are you scared?”
That made you bristle. You knew the game and you fucking hated it. You were fairly good at playing at, but you didn’t care for this idiot’s audacity. You were about to snap at him again, when you caught sight of the money. Your eyes widened and you sank back against the wall.
“I don’t have any money.” You murmured back.
“Don’t worry. You can pay with your body.”
Your head shot up and you were ready to lunge at him, but he held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I have no intention of fucking you.” He said calmly. “So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared?”
You crossed your arms and got up, giving him a dirty look.
“Get to it, son of a bitch.”
Your eyes fluttered open slowly. You had trouble adjusting your sight to the unnatural, neon light. The smell was odd, somewhat disinfectant. Something was really wrong.
You slowly stretched and turned your head, only to see you weren’t alone. That was enough to nearly make you shriek. You sat up quickly enough to get dizzy. Next to your own bunk was a woman who stared at you through her cat-eyes. She smirked devilishly as she lay on her side.
“Your fate is sealed. There’s no way you can dance your way out of this.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart raced in your chest. This had to be some freakish co-incidence. You took your gaze off her, only to realize you weren’t alone. Countless people surrounded you, some of them awake, others still asleep. They all wore the same green tracksuit, just as you did.
You took a shaky breath and carefully swung your legs over the bed, heading for the ladder.
What, in God’s name, was this? And why did you agree to it?
You only remembered how ashamed you felt and how good the prospect sounded of not having to dance half-naked for strange men.
But was this really better?
You glanced around in the hope of…Of what? The situation was far too fucked up.
The fact that they got you here unconsciously, getting you dressed…
You wanted to throw up. You stumbled through the great hall, hoping to get some answers to your questions, but that hope quickly got crushed.
These were the real strange men. Dressed in pink suits, wearing masks which covered all of their faces and even their voices weren’t their own. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a fun game, you suddenly realized.
That Ddakji playing motherfucker had deceived you.
You lost the first round, which resulted in him slapping you. And that slap, which hadn’t really been a gentle one, awakened some kind of beast in you. You didn’t know what it was, maybe the memory of getting slapped and hunted down your own apartment on a regular basis. Whatever it was, you didn’t lose another round. He gave you money and money and money. But you didn’t want his fucking money. You wanted revenge.
You kept winning, because nothing else was possible. And by the end of the game, he smiled at you while he handed you the damned card.
But right before he turned crawled back into the pit of Hell where he had come from, you called out to him.
“Hey, motherfucker.”
He cocked a brow and regarded you with amusement. “Are you still mad about that tiny, little hit? Come on, you took it like a champ.”
“Then you should, too.” You slapped him with an intensity, you didn’t think you’d ever possess.
He looked at you like a statue, obviously ready to lunge at and murder you. But he hid his murderous intent behind a well-rehearsed smile.
“That one was free.” He said calmly. “And if I ever do see you again, I want a return match.”
He left and you were left with the card.
And there you were now. This wasn’t some childish game of Ddakji.
No one showed their face. You knew what that meant. Something was wrong – and you were in trouble.
You were about to leave the hall and take part in the first game, following after the others. You wouldn’t even have noticed, had you not bumped into him full-force.
When you pulled back your head, ready to apologize, you froze.
There he was. Your Nam-gyu. Staring back at you with wide eyes, behind them a mixture of something akin to surprise and fury.
“What the fuck?” He hissed.
He rushed forward and grabbed your by the shoulders, backing you up against the wall. Your eyes widened and you tried to push him back, but he was driven by something far stronger than both of you.
“Nam-gyu?” You breathed out.
He frowned deeply and stared at you incredulously.
“What the hell are you doing here?!”
“I didn’t-“
“Oh my God, I’m going to kill you.” He growled. “Where were you? What’s going on with you? Are you fucking-“
“Is there a problem here?” At first, you didn’t see the guy behind him with his ridiculous hairstyle and pouty lips. Immediately, you hated the sight of him.
“Fuck, she’s my-“
The purple-haired guy gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Whatever, man. We should get going, huh? We’ll be late for the game.”
He eyed you in an odd way, but you pushed it down and used the moment to free yourself from Nam-gyu’s grip and run out, rushing after the others and hiding in the crowd. He attempted to follow you and even called out to you, but you were already gone.
Fuck, you thought.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
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Sam actually tells her over coffee, big soft brown eyes all but pleading her to come to his wedding, and well, of course Alice is like "sure. So happy for you. That's great. I mean, I'll even dress super lowkey so you don't feel like running away with me at your own wedding and all-" and Sam smiles that smile that means "I know you're only half joking and i'm sorry and it's awkward but i also love you too much not to invite you" which tears Alice apart a little and he's like "that's so nice of you, thank you. Tell Luke he can come too as well? If he wants?"
and Alice is like "wow dude. get him his own invite. i'm definitely getting a plus one. You're getting married in, what? 8 months? I'll have met my own love of my life at this point"
Cue Alice, eight months later, begging - begging Colin at work: "you have to come. C'mon. Aren't we friends. We'd make SUCH a good couple. It's just an evening." and Colin is like "Alice. Y'know i would if i could but i CAn'T because of that Stupid Computer-" and then she turns to Teddy and he's like "I already told you i was away on that day, I'm sorry Alice" actually kindly and she's groans and falls on her desk dramatically going "Well I can't possibly go and invite LENA." then "Do you think Lena might-" and then, from behind her computer, comes Gwen's voice: "Oh my god, Alice. I'll come. Can we PLEASE go back to focusing on WORK, please?"
There's silence. Teddy and Colin raise their eyebrows at Alice. She raises her eyebrows back at them. Colin snickers. Alice glares at him. She rolls her chair over to Gwen. "Seriously?" she says. Gwen glares at her. "Seriously. Anything to stop hearing about this." "Gwen," says Alice. "If you actually seriously help me, you ARE going to hear about this LOTS MORE. We'll need undercover stories. We'll need -"
Gwen just looks exasperated: "We met at work. We didn't like each other at first because we're both vastly different but the attraction and chemistry was indeniable. You won me over by treating me decently and I taught you SOME responsability. We realized we're stronger together than separate. You're the love of my life and I enjoy it when you stick it to the man because it makes me feel rebellious compared to my own upbringing. There. Satisfied?"
Alice just stares at her.
Gwen starts to feel her cheeks go very pink.
"We'll need to practice kissing, was what i was gonna say." alice finishes.
"I don't like PDA," Gwen says back.
"Then what the fuck is this right now," Colin mutters to Teddy.
#i forgot how to write alice and gwen's ship again#alice dyer#gwendolyn bouchard#dyhard#i think#alice x gwen#the magnus protocol#does this count as fic or just rambling. you decide
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Celebrate people it's happening. And if you don't want to be here for it then leave 🎉🎉
Q. I'm very confused by the reaction to the goodbye footage that was leaked. Did people honestly believe they weren't going to get a goodbye scene? They were always going to get one and just like every other scene in television it will be open to the audience's interpretation of the scene to decide what it does or doesn't mean.
A. I'm very confused by this ask, anon. No one is freaking out because they're getting a goodbye scene, of course they were always going to get a scene for just the two of them. People are freaking out because of how the scene is being framed. We have no actual context for the scene. We don't know what's coming before this scene or after this scene. We don't really have any dialogue, with the exception of a couple of lines, but the scene just doesn't look like a scene between two friends. It looks like a scene you would give a couple. They're touching. They both go to their tiptoes during the hug which makes them even closer than they already were. Buck initially goes to give the standard bro back tap but instantly stops and actually pulls Eddie in tighter. Right before the hug he appears to be smiling at Eddie but the minute the hug prevents Eddie from seeing his face it becomes crestfallen and sad. Look at the image before the hug where Buck gives him the cookies. Look how Oliver chose to play that. Hands crammed in his pockets, head down with a bashful smile. That is not a friendly posture. That is a flirty, nervous cutesy posture. Nothing about anything we saw in that footage said friends. That is why people were freaking out. And the fact that the network did nothing to prevent the footage from being 'leaked' is also kind of a big deal. It feels like they were testing the reaction. They are well aware of how that footage looks. And it feels like they allowed it to be leaked to see what the overall reaction to the appearance of an intimate scene, and yes a scene can be intimate without being outright romantic, would be. It felt like a sort of dry run to see how an intimate scene between the two of them might be received. And the reception was overwhelmingly positive. So it accomplished everything they wanted. It was free press, and it's been free press for the better part of 3 days now. And it was well received press. There was zero downside to allowing it to happen. So people were understandably excited.
I have received a ton of 'all media is open to interpretation' takes and that is just not at all accurate. Yes some scenes are intentionally vague or open to the viewers interpretation, but not most of them, and certainly not all of them. Take the final scene of The Sopranos. The scene fades to black with the family sitting in the restaurant eating. So the viewer gets to decide what happened next. Were they killed or did they live? Depends on who you ask. But most of the time there is a specific direction or point to a scene. The dialogue, the wardrobe, the set, it all contributes to what the creators want the audience to see, hear and take away from what they are watching. That's how you get a storyline. If everything was just open to whatever anyone's interpretation of everything was then they would just film random shit at random locations. That's not what happens. There is usually an intended purpose for most scenes The creators and writers are expecting their audience to have basic media literacy skills. And quite frankly 911 isn't being sneaky with what they're doing. Just because a particular viewer or group of viewers doesn't like a storyline doesn't mean the storyline isn't happening. They don't just get to say I refuse to acknowledge it so that means it's not happening. That's not how any of this works.
Thank you Nonny! Much appreciated, as always! 😋
Okay, listen... the time for 'the scene is open for interpretation' is OVER when it comes to Buddie.
The show has practically spelled it out to us that this is happening. Buddie is on its way! There's no stopping it!
We've been 'interpreting' scenes for a long time, up until season 6 really. But then everything changed when season 7 aired. We needed less and less interpretation and more conviction, because it's ALL right there!
We just have to start believing what we see and what the show is telling us. I think that's the most difficult thing of all for some people, actually believing that YES... what you think is happening? IT IS HAPPENING!
And this is happening. That goodbye scene in the rain? The fact that they get it in the first place? And separately from the rest of the 118?
What more could you possibly want to see? It's all right there!
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.
Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.
If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.
#anonymous blog I love#nonnies galore#buddie#buddie speculation#season 8 speculation#8b speculation#911 speculation
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i just keep thinking like... cherik romcom aus. just the fluffiest romcoms out there, but cherik.
and then i rewatched while you were sleeping, my all time favorite romcom, and realized that cherik would actually do great with a borderline creepy, chaotic premise. Because what are they if not chaotic and filled with longing stares.
I give you:
Erik's mom passed away two years ago, leaving him working at the train station in chicago. He is desperately lonely, though he'll never admit it.
One day, on christmas, when he's the only one working, a woman comes through his booth just like usual, but then some dudes instigate a bit of a fight and, well, she gets pushed onto the train tracks.
He jumps down and drags her out of the way of the train just in time, and she's rushed to the hospital, where it's discovered that she's in a coma.
He's not allowed in to see her, because he's not family, so one of the nurses tells the doctor that he's her fiance. Because who's going to care?
And then this big family comes into the hospital room -- it's mostly teenagers and young adults, it seems, though there's one older man who seems to be in charge of the group. Erik, promptly, gets introduced by the doctor as the woman (who turns out to be named "raven")'s fiance. All hell breaks loose, and somehow he can't manage to tell the family that it's not true.
They invite him over for a christmas re-do the next time they see him. He explains that he's jewish. They tell him to come anyways, they want to get to know him, maybe he can tell them a bit about his own holiday traditions, since he's going to be a part of the family and they'll "probably end up adopting them too!" as the jovial older man, oliver, says. (that's the "guy in black suit" that never gets a name in first class)
So Erik goes. And gosh, there's a lot of people in this family: Alex and Hank and Sean and Angel and Darwin and Moira and someone named Charles who hasn't shown up yet. And it turns out they're this kind of cobbled-together, adopted, found family that Erik, well... he kind of fits into. And he hasn't fit into anything for so long. It's nice.
And then, of course, he meets Charles. And charles is a pain in the ass. He interrogates him about whether or not he's really raven's fiance.... which, he isn't, so technically that's fair, but it still gets incredibly annoying.
And then somewhere along the way, their arguing turns into talking, which turns into erik considering Charles as a maybe-kinda-sorta friend, which turns into erik realizing, oh, shit, he's fallen for Charles.
His fake fiance's brother. Who thinks that he's his sister's fiance.
Erik's about to come clean when Raven wakes up. She immediately calls him on his bullshit, leading to the most awkward explanation of his life.... but the family welcomes him back with open arms.
"You're stuck with us, now." Charles whispers, elbowing him in the side as they get more info from raven's doctor about her recovery.
Slowly, Erik works up the courage to ask Charles out. Charles accepts. They have a whirlwind romance and get married after four months. They bicker and flirt and are an insufferably domestic and happy couple. They have twins through surrogacy -- and they name the baby girl "wanda" after the nurse who told the doctors erik was raven's fiance and caused their meeting. They live happily ever after, the end.
i ended up cutting the creepiness out of this 😂 no erik crushing super hard on raven in the beginning like lucy and peter.
#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#x men#magneto#xmen#professor x#x men movies#cherik fic#fanfic idea#x men shitpost
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Embrace The Cold - Zayne
Off we go with the second installment of "What could the first time cuddling 'Enter LI name' be like!" This time it is the snowman himself, Dr. Zayne! Honestly this story kinda ran away from me for a bit and got both far more detailed and far far longer than I had planned, so let me know if this is something you like or if you'd prefer it to be kept a lil shorter for the next few! Have fun reading TW: fluff, cuddling ---------------------------------------
Over the years Zayne had gotten used to being called cold or uncaring. After a while he had even gotten used to the cold puns because of his demeanor and Evol. By now he didn't even mind those comments anymore. Strangers or even colleagues could call him a man with the emotional warmth of a block of ice all they wanted because he knew that the only person who mattered knew him better.
While he had never gotten any complaints about his bedside manner, at least not since he became head of cardiac surgery, his friends were far and few inbetween when it came to his private life. He cared for his patients with passion and professionalism, offering comfort to the best of his ability but he was also not shy about admonishing them if they disregarded his orders for a speedy recovery.
Yet when he thought back at the few awkward times his well meaning colleagues tried to set him up with friends, he couldn't help but cringe. They had all been lovely people, but Zayne had quickly learned that blind dates were not something he was very proficient in. The small talk about the weather and the place they had met at soon faded into silence and the date usually turned very uncomfortable for both parties involved as well as the waiter.
Zayne sometimes wondered what the waiter thought about him, considering that he met at this restaurant with every date he had been set up with, always being tended to by him. Did he think of him as a socially inept idiot that couldn't charm his way into a second date or just as a playboy who moved on to the next person after he had gotten what he wanted?
But then his mind would shift to you. You were the wrench thrown into the well oiled machine that was his life. After all these attempts at kickstarting his love life, Yvonne had asked him for one more attempt and he had only reluctantly agreed. Unlike the others he had been made to meet with, he immediately felt far more comfortable the second you entered the restaurant, a little late and flustered because of it.
Once you got all the apologies out of your system for being late, none of it actually being your fault, the two of you eased into a very comfortable conversation. There had been no awkward silence between you at any point, you seemed genuinely interested in the things he had to say, asking questions and even prompting him to remind you of your food you were neglecting for the sake of not missing a word. He of course returned your interest, questioning you on your life, your hobbies, whatever came to mind.
Before either of you realized, two hours had passed, you had eaten your dinner and dessert and even your drinks had been emptied for a while.
One date turned into two, then three and before you knew it you were a couple without ever really saying it out loud. In the following days and weeks your relationship developed quickly and also not at all. Due to his busy work life clashing with yours, meetings in person often were few and far inbetween, but you managed to make it up with voice and video calls during the times you had time but were apart.
But now something incredible, almost unbelievable happened. Not only did you manage to secure two weeks of vacation, but Zayne did as well. You had never seen him so giddy with excitement as you picked up his video call in the evening, excitedly telling you about his accomplishment. Plans were quickly made how you two wanted to spend your free time, both together and apart, and before you knew it, the days until your vacation had passed and your doorbell rang.
Zayne was wearing his usual dark attire, his silver glasses perched on his nose and a warm smile on his lips. "Are you ready to leave?" With a kiss to your temple he stepped past you into your apartment, grabbing the suitcase in the hallway as you put on your shoes and jacket. "I can't put into words how excited I am, I haven't had a vacation in forever!" He breathed out a quiet chuckle and waited outside the door as you quickly scanned your apartment again, making sure that you had not left on any lights or appliances before following after him, locking the door behind you.
Zayne was a meticulous driver, never speeding and with his hands always at their correct place on the wheel. Except for today. He was still driving like a model citizen, but unlike usual, your entwined hands were resting on the center console, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. You had confided in him before that you were a little nervous, this was not only your first vacation together, but also the first night you would spend at his home.
If he was anyone but him, your heart would most likely be beating out of your chest or you would be nauseous from nervousness but this was Zayne after all. Your Zayne. Your gentle snowman of a boyfriend who would spend hours focused on the most complicated surgeries, saving lives with the very hand that now held yours, only to ask you to accompany him to an arcade in the evening so you could help him win a plushie to give to a young patient of his.
You have sat in at a lecture he was giving, his professional behaviour and calm voice captivating the audience and another day you saw him walking to the pediatric ward in light blue scrubs covered head to toe with little snowmen so the children wouldn't be as scared.
The car came to a gentle stop at the end of a short traffic jam. Zayne squeezed your hand and his eyes found yours as you turned your head. "What's going on in that head of yours? I can hear you overthinking from here." His smile was as gentle as usual, with an inquisitive look in his eyes.
"I don't know, to be honest. I know I have no reason to, but I think I'm a little nervous." The corner of his mouth twitched upwards a little and he turned his eyes back towards the road, now that the traffic jam had let up a little.
The busy streets of Linkons inner city gave way to a calmer neighborhood and after passing by the security guard of the gated community where Zayne lived, he soon turned into his driveway, only letting go of your hand to park the car and release his seatbelt.
His warm hands then ran along your arm to your hand, resting a moment against your pulse. "I won't dismiss your feelings by telling you there's no reason to be nervous, but you know me. You have gotten to know me better in the short time we have known each other than some people have who have known me for years. There is nothing I expect of you during our vacation except that you enjoy our time together. We get so little of it as it is."
He lifted your entwined hands and gave you a small kiss on your knuckles before letting go and exiting the car. You didn't even get the chance to open the door yourself, by the time you had gathered your bag at your feet, it was already open, with Zayne waiting patiently for you.
"Could you get the door? I had your fingerprint added to the automatic locking system." Zayne asked from behind you, hands full with your suitcase and his coat. As promised, the door gave a quiet click as you pressed your thumb on the scanner and the clean, almost clinical scent of his home greeted you.
It was almost funny how even his home held so many traces of his work, from the academic books and texts taking up an entire bookcase on their own, to his academic certificates lining the wall. When he had invited you over for the first time it even smelled like a hospital. There was the ever persistent scent of antiseptic, antibacterial soap and what you later learned was a hand lotion specifically formulated for medical personell that had to wash and desinfect their hands very frequently.
He had explained that as a surgeon, fragrances of any kind were not permitted and considering how much time he usually spent in the hospital, those habits had simply carried over into his private life. He didn't mind perfumes, colognes or any kinds of room sprays, he just didn't see a need to purchase them if they would only go to waste anyway. But ever since you had commented on it, not in a mean way in the slightest, he had started to experiment.
The next time you visited there was a faint scent of vanilla in the air, not overpowering but still clashing with the "natural" scent of his home. After that it was the scent of pine trees and eucalyptus which made everything smell like a very strange medicinal spa treatment. That one was discarded as well.
In the end, with your help, he had settled for a very unoffending citrus scent. It wasn't too harsh and also didn't clash. Instead of smelling cold and uninviting, his home now just simply smelled clean. He himself was an entirely different story. At his insistence, you two had once gone to try out some perfumes and colognes, with nothing to show for it but a headache and a desperate need for a shower and fresh clothes.
The two of you dropped down on his sofa, both tired from a long day of work and ready for a day of relaxing tomorrow and the two weeks of vacation that would follow. "I had planned to cook something nice together, but I did not anticipate how exhausting work would be today. I hope you are fine with takeout as well?" You could only nod and let your head drop back to rest on the backrest.
You couldn't imagine how extreme an exhausting workday would be for a surgeon, but yours had not been any better. Running from meeting to meeting, talking to customers and colleagues, having to forego your lunch break and just having to sneak some bites as you were once again rushed to yet the next thing you had to worry about. The rest of the week had not been any better, leaving you with no time to actually pack and prepare your apartment for your abscense until you got home in the afternoon today.
There were some minutes of silence as the two of you just lounged on the sofa, with Zayne copying your position with his long legs stretched out as far as they would go and his head tilted back. It wasn't particularily comfortable, but neither of you had the energy to move a muscle now that you had sat down.
His fingers were tapping gently along the cushions until they found yours, immediately wrapping around them. Soon the silence was starting to hurt your ears and you moved with a groan, stretching your arms and legs, allowing your joints to pop as you did. You quickly decided on tonights dinner and after ordering you both took turns in the bathroom to wash up and get changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable.
During your dinner you shared some stories of your day, with Zayne talking more about the antics of his coworkers to avoid sharing information he was not permitted to and you venting about your lack of a lunch break and how many times you had to repeat yourself with those customers who did not seem to grasp even the simplest concepts.
Stuffed with dinner and dessert to full capacity, you quickly washed the dishes and debated what you would want to do with the rest of the day. It was too late and you both were too tired to go out again but it was still too early to go to bed yet. Tomorrow was already a day planned with mostly laying around and maybe going shopping for some last minute necessities before your vacation, so going to bed early tonight would only make you wake up far too early.
After your first time visiting, you had commented on Zaynes rocking chair, wide enough for one person to more than comfortably sit on, but still too narrow to fit you both. It had merely been a cheeky comment, with no intention behind it, yet when you had entered his apartment this time, the rocking chair had been banned to the bedroom, making for a comfortable reading space right by the windows and in it's place in the living room now stood something you could only call a rocking sofa.
It was a two seater, plush and comfortable with dark grey fabric, with more than enough space to even lay down and stretch your legs. There was also a small sideboard in front of it with a TV and the console you had played on together before.
"Please don't tell me you bought that just because of the comment I made." You said with a deadpan voice, scratching your temple with a sigh. Zayne placed a smooch on just that spot and turned to lead you over to the sofa. "Very well, then I won't tell you. I did not want to break it in on my own and now seems like a perfect opportunity. What do you say?" With a snort you ushered him along with a small smack to his butt, laughing at the way he nearly jumped out of his skin and turned to give you a playful glare.
He held the chair still so you could get on without an issue and watched with a smile as you stretched yourself out as much as you could. "Comfortable?" He asked, pushing and pulling on the back rest to make you rock back and forth ever so gently. "It is…but I bet it would be even more comfortable with company." You didn't have to ask him twice, tapping the space next to you with your fingers, you couldn't help but giggle at the violent rocking that shook you about as he sat down.
Sitting there together, with Zayne resting one of his legs on the ground to keep up the gentle rocking, you quickly felt drowsiness taking over you. "I never understood why parents like rocking chairs so much to put their kids to sleep." Your sentence ended with a big yawn, the kind that made your eyes tear up. Zayne did not comment and as you turned to your side to look at him, you saw that his eyes were closed.
His breathing was slow and calm but by the way he was still rocking the chair, you were certain that he had not already fallen asleep. His breath hitched a little as you raised your hand to trace some of the scars on the arm he had resting on his stomach. "Are you still nervous?" The room had gotten so quiet that his voice made you flinch a little.
He turned his head towards you when you didn't answer right away. Your fingers that had been running over his arms crept up to his jaw, running along the sharp bone, tracing his cheekbones to his temple, before brushing his dark hair away from his hazel eyes. "You told me I don't have to be. And you're right…I do know you, my precious snowman who will protect me just like I will protect you. I know that as long as I'm with you I will be safe."
For a split second you thought you saw a flash of pain run across his face, but with a blink of you eyes, it was gone. He turned over to face you fully. His arms slowly reached out towards you, one pushing into the plush cushions to reach under your body, the other circling around your waist and with a quick pull, there was hardly any space between the two of you anymore.
You could feel his breath on your face and in the way his chest pressed against yours, the hand of the arm beneath you settling on your lower back while the other carressed your upper back. For a moment you felt like your heart would start racing again due to the sudden proximity but as you stared at his beautiful features, those intelligent eyes that sparkled in greens, browns and even some specks of yellow, the long lashes that framed them and his plush lips that had made you weak with both words and kisses before, you noticed that it was just as calm as your breath.
Laying in Zaynes embrace, it felt like nothing could touch you, no one would dare to even think of harming you. Now even the thought of worrying about being with him seemed ridiculous. Had he ever even given you a reason to worry? Even your first meeting had just felt right. There was hardly any awkwardness, no uncomfortable silences. Maybe you had been moving rather quickly in the eyes of others, but neither of you regretted anything.
You did not regret telling each other your life stories right away, skipping the pleasantries and fun fact about each other for a later date. You did not regret wanting to give him a kiss on the cheek after he had dropped you off and accompanied you to your front door to make sure you made it home safe and he did not regret accidentally turning his head at just the last second so your kiss ended on his lips instead.
As you shared this intimate moment, a shiver ran across your body. Due to his Evol, Zaynes body tended to overcompensate the cold, making his body run hotter than most people. In turn, he prefered his living space to be on the cooler side. Luckily he was prepared and pulled the blanket, that he had slung over the backrest, over the both of you. As he adjusted on the sofa, he pulled you even closer, tangling your legs together to erase even the last bit of distance between you two.
Sharing your warmth and with the quiet affection visible between you both, you snuggled your face into his chest, the faint scent of something that was purely Zayne tickling your nose. You were safe, you were loved and with those thoughts in mind, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up
#i'm overthinking something that i did and was told off for doing by my director#and on my way home i was thinking when was the last time i was even talked to like that during a production#and then i remembered the costume experience from hell of only a couple months ago that i've already began blocking out#but the thing is that that person was someone i knew i'd never have to work with again#i mean at first i thought i would have to work with them more. then they announced they were moving away immediately#so i only had to deal with them face to face for another weekish after that point and anytime they yelled at me#i was like 'cool. i'll do exactly what you say to do. and nothing more.' but then of course me being me#i did some extra stuff and they initially were like 'oh that's pretty' and then days later told me to cut everything i added#and like sure i get that the show was frozen but girl. that costume was unfinished. i was trying to finish it. it was frozen but looked bad#anyway. whenever they yelled at me and had actual malice in their heart i was like whatever. i was hurt. but i didn't care as much.#but this time it's someone i've worked with many many times before and it was about a habit i have that i know isn't great#but at the same time the thing that prompted it wasn't even me doing this habit it was something else#but she interpreted it as that habit and said that i can't do that on a production she's directing#and that if i couldn't stop then i could pull out from the production and there'd be no hard feelings between us#and honestly i think her reassuring that she knows i'm valuable and that she wants me there while also telling me not to do this thing#and the fact that she's someone i like working with and will continue to work with just made it all hurt so much more#especially since she referenced another past production we've done where i didn't even realize she had noticed that i do this.#and i found myself in near tears. and still am kind of in near tears. i can't decide if i need to cry or not.#and i had NO sleep last night so i was looking forward to sleeping tonight but now i'm just overthinking EVERYTHING#and like. i know everything will be fine. if i just stop inserting myself and stick to just my specific tasks. it'll be fine.#but this is one of the ways my ocd manifests. i feel like i have to personally fix something i notice going wrong. or it'll be bad.#because every single time i choose to sit back and not be nosy when i notice something it ends up bad in a way i could have prevented#if i just inserted myself in a situation i technically wasn't part of but knew i could help or fix. so i just need to not do that.#but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent.#and i've been trying to work on this for like 6 months and aaaahhhh it's hard and being called out on it from her just really really hurt#i still may or may not cry. i don't know. the irony of me telling my therapist THIS MORNING that it's been a while since i last cried.#and the universe being like 'i took that as a challenge' and handing me this situation for me to spiral over.#i need to leave things alone. i need to stare straight ahead. and ignore whatever isn't specifically for me to do. but ahhh i want to help#and then of course my mom has this same habit and it annoys me when she does it yet i do it to other people and ahhhhhhhh#brain please just shut up. i need to sleep. i have to work tomorrow.
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*said with increasing distress, eyes blodshot and an empty mug in hand* you guys remember writing right????? you guys remember posting fic and publishing things and talking to editors about potential projects right???? you guys remember being creative in your creative jobs and not just rereading old work and having a panic attack over the time wasted over curating hyperspecific character playlists that you get mad about five minutes later right????? i'm not insane right????? creative block is normal even if it lasts for months right???? i haven't written a fic in YEARS but it's ok i'm ok i have to finish TWO original pieces for next week that I haven't even started but it'll probably be fineeeee I'm totally not being a complete and raving lunatic about it it's probably gonna be okay <3 yay <3
#AND I STILL HAVEN'T APPLIED FOR MY NEW SHOW IN THEATRES ?1!!!!???? AJAAGAGAHAHAHFGH#BABYGIRL I CAN BE DRY IN WAYS YOU CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE FOR PROJECTS THAT ARE ALREADY EVEN PLANNED OUT#the words just won't come out idk#ok so i attended one of the most prestigious universities in the country re: my field of expertise and carefully improved in my craft#just to go into a creative field and be an unemployed fuckhead who won't even write#i mean I am ALSO an academic that is very much true as well. but you don't really earn money from that either now do you#especially not in humanities#anyway. i need to go wash some dishes#it'll be fine probably i just need to lock tf in#it sucks being the one in the relationship that has no job no money no prospects and is already a burden to their parents#like literally they're being very nasty about it and like i know they care about me and stuff but they are very much. not supportive#it doesn't mean they're openly hating on it tbh i think they've given up on trying to disagree with my life choices and atp they just judge#when i'm not there. but evidently i find out anyway because of course i do#tbh won't complain about the lack of open support though like it's cool you disapprove of my relationship and my work and my life overall#ok rant over i'm big now. i'm an adult#ACTUALLY should i write a paper on disco elysium maybe that'd cheer me up. DON'T ask me how de is cheerful it isn't#my brain just works in mysterious ways#also gonna write an essay on my relationship with god. and get it published. probably gonna quote dostoievski a couple times as well. maybe#who give a fuck anymore man people these days can write ANYTHING. i love being alive in a world where printing is a thing. also computers#personal
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Sometimes college professors like to hop on my posts lamenting the sorry state of syllabi these days and joke about how they haven't thought that far ahead in the course themselves, or talk about how they struggle to complete a schedule for their students.
With all due respect, that's your job. If you can't do your job, you should have a different job. If you need help, ask your colleagues or your department chair or *someone* because I know that professors aren't given a hell of a lot of education on how to educate, so you probably *need* help.
But every single time I make one of those posts I get anywhere from ten to thirty messages, replies, reblogs, and asks say "oh man, that's exactly why I had to drop out of school; I couldn't keep up with the assignments because I didn't know when they were due until the week they were due."
I have been a college student in three separate decades, and "not having a schedule of assignments in the syllabus" is new to my experience. That shit didn't fly in the 2000s or 2010s and I think it likely has to do with professors being overly reliant on apps.
AT A MINIMUM your syllabus should have:
Contact information (including preferred method of contact) for the professor
Office Hours
Grading Policy
Assignment schedule.
Your assignment schedule doesn't necessarily need to have the exact page numbers of every reading or a full assignment sheet for each project, but it should have things like:
December 1st - Major Project 3 second draft due December 9th - Quiz 10 December 12th - Major Project 3 final draft due December 15th - Final Exam
If you end up presenting a more thorough schedule with readings and homework later, that is acceptable to present a week or two into the semester but it is absolutely insane to me that students these days don't know what homework they're going to have to get done over Thanksgiving break during the first couple weeks of class.
If I had three professors at once who didn't give me a schedule, how on earth would I know if I was going to have to read three chapters of a novel, take a midterm and turn in two stats homework assignments, and complete a history research paper the same week that I'm planning to travel to see family? If I'm aware of this from the beginning of the semester I can make sure not to pick up extra shifts, or I can plan to leave a day later to accommodate the midterm, or I can start working on the paper early to complete it before the due date but if I don't know what's going to be due when, I'm going to have a big problem.
If you don't give your students a schedule you are communicating that you don't care about their schedule, and that you think it's their responsibility to contort their life (and their job, and their other classes) around your class, and honestly my advice to students in that situation is "drop in the first week and pick up another class". That's actually part of why I recommend signing up for one more class than you can really manage - if you get a professor whose class looks like it's going to be a disaster because they don't have a schedule, you can bail before the withdrawal period and get a refund for the class.
I'm only in one class this semester but the professor's response has fully dropped me into "Fuck it, I guess I'll fail" mode and I don't even know if I can pull myself out of my current D grade because I don't know how many assignments we have left in the semester.
This is a shitty way to run a class. If you can't do better than this, you shouldn't be running a class.
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1
CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2
You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.
Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.
“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.
You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him.
Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.
The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face.
he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)
The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.
“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room.
“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you.
You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.”
The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.
"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.
"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.
He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable” and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you.
It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments.
Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around.
You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge?
The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies.
You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in.
“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound.
“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening.
“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out.
“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies.
“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again.
“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.
“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.
A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone
tags, sorry if i missed any:
@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05 @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho
#cod fanfic#simon ghost riley#cod#ghost fanfiction#ghost x reader#call of duty#cod x reader#john soap mactavish#angst#no beta we die like men#Behind enemy lines
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School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy
So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)
What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”
Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.
The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.
Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!
So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.
I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.
A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.
‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.
Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.
Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.
Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.
“It didn’t have any words,” she said.
(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)
Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.
I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.
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Love of my Life
summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret
jake seresin x reader
word count: 1490
warnings: no editing, fluff
a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord
song rec: love of my life - harry styles
masterlist
It wasn’t on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jake’s friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect.
Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you weren’t going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting.
And that’s exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him.
You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldn’t be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them.
After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future.
You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldn’t be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it.
“Hello? Anybody home?” A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadn’t realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake.
“Sorry, sorry, got a little lost there.” You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink.
“I’ll say,” she laughed, “I mean, I get it.” Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell.
“Fuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,” you said once the laughter died down.
“Remind me again why he doesn’t tell them about you?”
“It started off as a joke,” you start, “he wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now it’s just an ongoing bet we have.”
“A bet I am about to win, by the way.” Jake suddenly appears behind you and you’re happy to see him until his words sink in.
“You’re not allowed to interfere!” You point at him and he just laughs.
“No interference, I promise.” He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time.
“Well, what are you doing over here then?”
“See now, that’s where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,” he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, “and they bet me $20 that I couldn’t walk over here and get your phone number.”
“Hmmm, seems like fair play to me.” Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband.
A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jake’s lap.
“Did none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?” You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. It’s impossible not to. “Don’t try to distract me, you’re in trouble.”
“Come on darlin’,” His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on.
“When did this song get added to the jukebox?”
“I may have put in a special request.” His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought.
The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds.
“After you, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew.
Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet someone,” he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, “this is my wife.” He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to.
“Wife?” Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.
“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.”
You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.”
There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. “You’ve been holding out on us, Bagman!”
“Yeah, what the hell, man!” Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s not all Jake’s fault,” You come to his defense, “we had a bet going, which I just lost.”
“What bet did you two have?” Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly.
You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. “We wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.”
“You… you don’t wear a wedding ring?” Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up.
Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day.
Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near.
“So, what’s the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?” Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her.
Jake pretended to be offended. “I’m not that wild.”
You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin family’s backyard three summers ago.
When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.”
Jake couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight.
---
thanks for reading ily
Requests are open 🫶🏻
#top gun maverick#jake seresin#hangman#seresin#top gun#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#reader insert#top gun x reader#fanfic#top gun fanfic#fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#glen powell#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#Jake hangman Seresin
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Dancing with ENHA as their Secret-Girlfriend!Idol!Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2f7184ff7792f1e21ce2d4d9b9c75b67/7f9696f7fecc13c0-fe/s540x810/85cba57ead23377f2f33ea4d9b740ea9af5bf216.jpg)
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summary: enha dancing with their secret significant other
word count: 4.2k
warnings: suggestive at times, not proofread, fem reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a1eedc0939344ff9025af9536057c05c/7f9696f7fecc13c0-e3/s400x600/5e21d815b5175245ddb74992b7f6bab488e884e8.webp)
Lee Hee Seung:
It was public knowledge that you and Heeseung were friends since you had trained together at one point
However it was NOT public knowledge that you two actually ended up becoming a couple after you both debuted
With that being said, fans were overjoyed any time you were seen together, always thinking your interactions were so cute and wholesome
One day a video of the two of you pre-debut got leaked
It was a clip of a practice video of you dancing to “Bonnie & Clyde” by DEAN
The choreography was good and you both danced well, but anyone watching could tell that the two young trainees were nervous to be dancing with each other
Fans of both groups thought the video was pure gold though since it showcased how much you’d both grown as performers, and the fact that it was another interaction between their favs
The video trended on social media for about a week or so before the chatter and excitement was redirected to a NEW dance practice video…
which just so happened to be of you and Heeseung recreating the choreography from so many years in full
It was a well filmed, high quality performance
The two of you had even gone the extra mile and re-recorded the song as a duet, making it a full cover
Any trace of the awkwardness from your trainees days had been nowhere to be found
You and heeseung were dripping confidence and sex appeal as you danced together
A majority of the dance was spent with the the two of you in close contact- his arms around your waist, your palms trailing down his chest, him hands tracing the outline of your body
you were practically in your own little bubble and that shit read very clearly on camera
Of course your fans went even more feral
Twitter was full of praise for your growth and everyone was saying how you and heeseung must be so much closer now than back then
(if only they knew just how close👀)
And of course there were some smart fans (that unfortunately probably got called delusional) who could sense the thick sexual tension between the two of you
✪ ‘Y’all- there is absolutely NO WAY these two aren’t fucking😭’ ✪ ‘I genuinely feel like i’m interrupting something’ ✪ ‘Heeseung… if you’re not gonna get to work please step aside so i can have my turn with y/n’
It definitely was added to every single “top kpop moments of 20XX” video and thread
And since you’re both evil-
You each had made casual posts on sns about the process after
‘Did engene enjoy our little throwback collab?’ and the bitch posted a mirror selfie of the two of you sweaty and half dressed🧍♀️
Park Jong Seong:
Jay always loved watching you dance
Tbh jay loved to watch you do anything- but dancing was one of his favorites
Any time you had a comeback, he always wanted you to teach him the choreography as soon as possible- whether it was cute, sexy, or fierce- that boy was gonna learn it
Which meant when the song actually dropped he’d be the first to make a tik tok with you every time
And of course the opposite rang true as well-
Whenever enhypen had a comeback you were the first to learn the new choreo
The tik toks are always so cute too-
Like- that’s your man so of course you’re gonna be cute with him lmao
It’s mostly because you know he gets flustered so easily when you tease him or flirt with him in front of the other members or staff
It’s especially hectic when your comeback schedules overlap because trust their will be new tik toks every other day
You guys got especially brave when enha was promoting “bite me”...
Instead of just doing the pre-chorus together and posting that like the others, you did the whole pre-chorus AND chorus… WITH THE PARTNER WORK
If fans weren’t already going feral over the boys dancing with partners before, they definitely lost their shit at your mini collab
✪ ‘Oh my god… there’s no way this is real’ ✪ ‘Jay… your hands are a little low there buddy😅’ ✪ ‘So they just casually covered half of ‘Bite Me’ on a random Thursday? Okay cool’ ✪ ‘THE WAY JAY LOOKS AT Y/N OMFG’
It actually took fans longer than expected to realize you were filming together even when your promotional schedules didn’t lineup, so of course rumors started eventually
However it seemed like your fans were just rolling with it since your interactions were fun an cute (they’ve been praying for a collab stage between your groups since debut)
There was one time you filmed with heeseung instead of Jay and it lowkey threw everyone for a loop
Was it intentional? Absolutely not! Well- maybe slightly
You and your members were curious to see if anyone would react- had your fans even noticed that you only ever film with Jay? (yes, they noticed it right away)
So you can imagine the comments when you posted of you and Heeseung doing the choreo for “brought the heat back”
✪ ‘Uhmmm?? What happened to your man???’ ✪ ‘Omg no mom and dad are fighting‘ ✪ ‘HEESEUNG PLZ TELL ME YOU CAN FIGHT BRO’ ✪ ‘Peace and love but where is Jay…”
Yeah… it gave y’all a good laugh
There have also been plenty of time where you’ve posted your own little dance covers without Jay, or even just danced to his songs casually on live while jamming out, which always excited fans of both groups
Basically his fans and yours know SOMETHING is going on between you two and for some reason no one really talks about it like you’d expect them to…
Sim Jae Yun:
You and jake had been invited to be part of an end-of-the-year collab stage
It was supposed to be a fun little performance between a few different male and female idols
At the time- the only people who knew about your relationship were your groupmates, meaning it was especially hard to see each other without getting caught
However when your manager gave you the news that you’d be collaborating with a few different idols, and that your boyfriend just so happened to be one of them, your heart started to race
You attended a meeting with your manager in which you were informed that you’d be working with Lee Isa, Kim Gaeul, Kang Minhee, Park Jisung, and of course Jake
The stage would have three parts- a section for the girls, a section for the boys, and then one where you all came together
The overall vibe was fun and flirty, and you’d each be partnered with someone
The second the idea of “partners” was introduced, you and jake immediately made (what you thought was subtle, but was definitely not) eye-contact
The meeting wrapped up and you were immediately conversing with you were manager, trying to subtly convey how you thought it would make most sense for you and Jake to be partners
Unbeknownst to you, Jake was doing the exact same thing
Luckily, it worked and both of your managers were able to get the two of you to be partners
You all began preparing immediately, and since some of the partner work was different for each pair you’d all broken off to learn separate bits of choreography
You and Jake had begun working on a few different combinations, since the song decisions hadn’t been entirely finalized yet
The first one you worked on was to “Invitation” by JUNNY and Gaeko, which totally fit the vibe of the overall stage concept
Except it was maybe a bit TOO flirty (or perhaps that was just you and Jake)
You were easily able to connect and play into the each other’s artistry
Your relationship had always been full of playful energy and putting a smile on the other person’s face, so dancing together just felt like another extension of that
The choreography was intense and fast, hitting every accent and ad-lib, requiring a lot of texture and groove
but after learning the steps and running it once or twice to get the moves down it felt like second nature, especially since all your charisma and stage presence was really just you having fun with your boyfriend
Lots of behind the scenes content was filmed and unfortunately… some got leaked to the public
Somehow yours and jake’s first dance practice got leaked, as well as Jisung and Isa’s and the video of yours, Gaeul, and Isa’s section
This was before anything was announced to let the public know a collab was even happening so fans were shocked on so many levels
✪ ‘We’ve got (your group), enhypen, ive, nct, stayc, and cravity members doing a collab?? Where did this even come from???’ ✪ ‘Gaeul, Y/n, and Isa dancing to “greedy” by Ariana Grande was not something i knew i needed- welcome back “wow thing” collab group’ ✪ ‘Jake and Y/n look like they’re having so much fun together i love them :(‘ ✪ ‘I feel like I've never seen Jake have this much fun while dancing! You can tell he really feels comfortable dancing with Y/n’ ✪ ‘The way they look at each other, oh i feel sick’
Unfortunately after that all the songs and choreography had to be changed :/
Park Sung Hoon:
Close by Nick Jonas
As the main dancer of your group, your company loves to highlight you any chance they get
This resulted in you doing frequent dance videos, collabing with other idols in order to reach outside your normal audience and hopefully attract some new fans
Sunghoon, ever the supportive boyfriend, makes sure you tell him every time a new video is going to be released so that he can have youtube open and ready for when it drops
texts you immediately after about how talented you are and how proud he is of you for taking on the challenges of choreographing and coming up with new ways to showcase your skills as a performer
Sometimes will just randomly pull up your videos and start watching them while y’all are hanging out
You had always told him beforehand who you’d be dancing with and he never expressed being bothered by any of your idol partners-
until he realized you yourself were picking them
You were sitting in his bed one day (watching one of your recent videos lol) when he suddenly looked up at you with the saddest puppy eyes ever
“How come you’ve never asked me to dance with you☹️”
Oh he’d be so pouty and sulky omg
You’d been expecting that question for a while honestly
“Baby I’d love to dance with you, but would your company let us?”
sunghoon hated that you had to be logical all the time, so he just rolled over to bury his face in your stomach, and groaned in despair
(This drama queen)
He eventually just wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted his head to rest his chin on your tummy, peering up at you
“Can we ask them tomorrow…”
You couldn’t stop the affectionate giggle that left you as you played with his hair and nodded softly
The next day, you talked to your manager first- proposing your next idea
Now you see- your manager loves sunghoon, your whole staff does really
They all think the two of you are perfect together, and would honestly probably announce you were official right this second if hybe let them
So it wasn’t a problem convincing your team to let you dance with your boyfriend
Of course that wasn’t exactly the case for Sunghoon’s team
It definitely made sense why they weren’t totally onboard with the idea- being worried about dating rumors and such- but you and hoon hadn’t had a single rumor involving each other up to that point!
They eventually caved and agreed, realizing it would be a good opportunity since all the other idols you had invited so far were all known as well-respected dancers in the industry
You ended up decided on going for a more intimate and contemporary vibe than you had done so far
“Close” by Nick Jonas and Tove Lo was the song you had agreed on using, having had already talked about choreographing to this song together just for fun at some point
You had worked with a choreographer from hybe, expressing your vision and showing some of the ideas you had, and the process went extremely smooth
The dance ended up being sensual and emotional, highlighting both of your skills as contemporary dancers
A good chunk of the choreography was spent with the two of you having very little physical contact, but being so close to each other that it delivered such a feeling a yearning
However, the last chorus totally changed the vibe
You two walked backward, facing away from each other, and right as you were about to bump into each other sunghoon abruptly turned around gripping your shoulder and whirling you to face him- leading to a sequence of quick spins and paired movements, finally breaking the pattern of avoiding physical contact
And the rest of the dance spent with you two practically glued together
The performance continued with sunghoon pulling you in toward him, you running your hands up his chest and neck and landing softly on his face before pulling him down to almost meet your lips
The two of you slowly walked together to the beat of the music until sunghoon’s back was hitting the wall
It came to an end with hoon sliding down into a seated position on the floor, leaning against the wall- you sliding down in sync, landing on his lap- his face still in your hands, his hands on your hips, foreheads leaned against each other’s
The choreography was so intimate that unfortunately hybe’s fears came true
The dating rumors were instantaneous…
✪ ‘This is such an unexpected pairing but it makes so much sense’ ✪ ‘Oh! My bad y’all i’ll just- i can just- uhm- lemme just leave the room and come back later’ ✪ ‘I know y/n said this performance was gonna be a bit different from her other’s but i didn’t think THIS is what she meant😭’ ✪ ‘Soooo, is this a safe space to say I wholeheartedly believe Y/nHoon is real?’ ✪ ‘Girl Y/nHoon BETTER be real after THAT’ ✪ 'the thoughts i'm thinking... i feel like my account would get suspended if i shared them👀'
And if that wasn’t enough to get them going, there was all the behind the scenes material as well
Both your company and hybe had released behind the scenes videos of the project, except they couldn’t have been more different
While the one posted to enhypen’s channel was mostly sunghoon being interviewed and shots of him practicing individually, with the occasional partner shot or interaction between you two
Your behind the scenes video had plenty of shots of you and hoon laughing and playfully bickering together
Clips of you finishing the choreography and falling against him, with him wrapping his arms around you and swaying back and forth circulated twitter immediately
There were plenty of other moments that had fans fawning over your relationship
Such as when you wrapped up filming and sunghoon slid his hands from your hips to fully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you down to lay on top of him on the ground
Let’s just say hybe had to release a statement pretty soon after that
Kim Seon Woo:
Sunoo and you always post together
vlogs, lives, story posts- you name it
Most fans never really thought anything of it since a majority of the time it was just you two shopping, trying new snacks, or talking about skincare
But there was also so much content you didn’t post
Like the countless couples tik tok trends that are sitting in your drafts (his favorite is the one where you put on lipstick and accidentally smudged it, then the camera turns to him covered in lipstick kiss marks)
But there are also surprisingly a lot of random dance videos you have of the two of you
Sometimes when you’re hanging out at one of your company’s studios you’ll just turn on a song and come up with fun random choreography
One of Sunoo’s favorites that you guys have come up with was to “Wildflower” by 5 seconds of summer
It was sensual and flirty, but still fun and cute- and the video conveys that perfectly with how much the two of you are giggling and clinging to each other
It started off really well! Both of you were locked in, hitting the snaps and beats perfectly, your expressions nothing short of perfect and professional
But the second it got to the chorus your smiles were overtaking your faces as you tried to stay focused on the choreography and not burst out laughing
You still danced the routine perfectly! There just came a point in the dance where neither of you could stop smiling at each other
By the final chorus you were fully teasing your giggly boyfriend by mouthing the words with an overly flirtatious expression while running your hands down his neck and chest, causing him to squeeze your waist and teasingly pull you into him making you burst out laughing, before finishing out the dance with the biggest smiles anyone has ever seen
You both often rewatch the video and your smiles end up being almost as big as the ones you had in the video
You were sitting with Sunoo one day and asked him if it was okay to post it to your personal account, and he excitedly agreed
However- for some reason you didn’t check to make sure you were on your private account instead of your groups account before you hit post, and without realizing, uploaded your choreography to your groups official instagram with the caption ‘me and my wildflower sunny baby☀️🌺’
It was only about 15 minutes later when sunoo was scrolling through his own instagram when he turned to you panicked
“Baby… you posted it on the wrong account”
“WHAT?????”
You immediately called your manager crying and freaking out, while sunoo called jungwon trying to explain the situation
Both your management teams came to the agreement that no one would say anything about the video unless it got severely out of hand
They thought it would be best to keep the video up to avoid suspicion, However, you did have to change the caption
Aside from the crazies, most fans were eating it up!
✪ ‘I love that they’re so comfortable with each other, this is so cute’ ✪ ‘Their smiles and giggles🥺’ ✪ ‘I feel like we never get to see sunoo’s dance abilities highlighted, so i’m honestly grateful that y/n shared this’ ✪ ‘Oh they’re so in love don’t even try to deny it’
Yang Jung Won:
You had been hinting to your fans about doing more dance content, but the last thing they expected was for a video of you and jungwon dancing to “two hands” by Tate McCrae to randomly show up on your groups youtube channel one day
The video was professionally recorded in a cool location and the two of you had on cool but comfortable outfits
Basically y’all looked cunty asf and everyone was losing their shit over it but we’ll come back to that
The choreography involved the two of you being in some sort of physical contact for almost the entire thing
And when you weren’t touching, you were face to face staring into each other’s soul
It was lowkey like you were leading the dance at times and jungwon was hypnotized by your movements (which let’s be honest, he totally was)
By the last chorus, you and your boyfriend were in full contact
Jungwon’s hands had pulled you in closely, your hands resting on his chest with his low on your back
There was a moment where you just sensually gazed into to each other’s eyes, caressing each other while you mouthed the words to the song
Jungwon leaned in closing his eyes, fully preparing to kiss you, but you teasingly turned your head back toward the camera right as your lips were about to meet, giving a flirtatious wink and smile
The turn caused jungwon’s lips to brush your neck, but the way it was captured by the camera made it hard to tell if he actually made contact with your skin
The rest of the dance consisted of one or both of you having your hands on the other without a break, never breaking the connection
There was even a part where you had your hand on your boyfriend’s face and he followed your movement, seemingly hypnotized by your touch
Jungwon’s hands quickly found their place on your hips shortly after
The dance finished with two posing- you in front of him, reaching behind to place your hand on the back of his neck, as he placed his hands on your hips
Won gently rubbed your hip as he waited for the director to call cut, ad when they did he collapsed against you, fully wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck
(That cute moment was captured and posted on your instagram story after the official video dropped)
Speaking of social media…
The thing is, both you and your boyfriend are chaotic and slightly evil, so the second the video dropped y’all were refreshing twitter to see people’s reactions
✪ ‘Oh okay so they’re a thing’ ✪ ‘Yang Jungwon and L/n Y/n… WHAT IS THIS????’ ✪ ‘So like- do y’all need a third or…’ ✪ ‘HIS LIPS WERE LITERALLY ON HER NECK I’M NOT CRAZY’ ✪ ‘Need whatever they’ve got goin on real bad’ ✪ ‘Jungwon heard the lyrics “your two hands on me at all times” and took that shit literally wow’ ✪ ‘Y/n turning to look at the camera right as won is about to kiss her… GIRL MOVE IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA KISS THAT BOY’ ✪ ‘The hand placement, oh i’m so fucked’ ✪ ‘L/n Y/n the woman you are…’ ✪ ‘The way Jungwon’s movements get obviously more desperate at the end of the choreography when Y/n has her hands on his face… WALK HIM LIKE A DOG MAMA😛’
You and Jungwon were giggling and saving posts were a good two hours
Nishimura Riki:
It wasn’t unusual for you and ni-ki to hang out in a practice room and just jam, coming up with random choreography combinations for fun
It also wasn’t a secret that the two of you knew each other and hung out, but most just assumed you were friends since you had also hung out with other members of enhypen before
However neither of you had ever posted anything together aside from mayne a couple of tik toks
So it came as a shock to his fans (and yours) when Ni-Ki went live, only for everyone to see him cozied up in one of hybe’s practice rooms with you
The live started with the two of you laying on the floor with the phone propped up against the mirror wall at the front of the room, just chatting and giggling over random stuff (losers in love)
In fact Riki was so chatty that fans were even starting to comment on it
‘The only time Riki has stopped giggling or yapping has been to listen intently to y/n..’
‘I swear these two are so chatty together, what's going on??’
Eventually you guys started getting antsy and decided to turn on some music and jam again
It was just some ciphering back and forth for a while until “pour up” by DEAN came on and you froze and made eye contact
“Should we do it?” Ni-Ki asked in regard to the choreography the two of you had come up with to the song earlier that week
“I mean… why not?” you shrugged with a mischievous smile
“It’s a little… risky- don’t you think?” he giggled while unconsciously moving closer to you, but you just giggled in return before starting the choreography while holding eye contact
He laughed a bit in shock, watching you dance for a few more seconds before joining in
By the time the chorus arrived the two of you were locked in, facing forward again toward the camera
It seemed like pretty tame choreography at first with a slightly sensual
Until the second verse came
You and Riki started crossing paths and interacting more within the choreography, showing off just how much chemistry you have together as dance partners
There were plenty of little moments with little flirtatious touches here and there but the connection was on full display by the last few seconds of the song, with Riki’s arm draped casually around your waist as the two of you swayed side to side
You pretended to walk off as the song ended, still feeling the vibe, but as soon as the next song started playing you screamed dramatically and fell to floor in a heap of embarrassment, leaving your boyfriend to laugh at you from behind
Ni-Ki walked past you back to the phone to check the comments and he noticed the viewer count has tripled since before you started dancing
✪ ‘They way they just casually match each others vibe like it’s nothing’ ✪ ‘So can we all agree we need more Y/n and Riki dance content??’ ✪ ‘I would 100% be asking “what are we?” after this…' ✪ ‘Y/n falling to the ground and screaming after, she’s so real’ ✪ ‘OMG LOOK AT HOW RED THEY ARE NOW AWWWW BABIES’
Neither of you could look at each other without giggling for the rest of the live
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notes: hey y'all... i'm back (kinda)
#riki x reader#nishimura riki x reader#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon x reader#sunoo x reader#kim sunoo x reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon x reader#jake x reader#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#jaeyun x reader#jay x reader#jay park x reader#jongseong x reader#park jongseong x reader#heeseung x reader#lee heesung x reader#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen scenarios#enha scenarios
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Oh fuck. Ashton and Orym are probably getting new art next episode, if they haven't already.
I don't think I'm willing to re-do the fashion frame I themed around Ashton on Warframe but I might be okay with changing the outfit for my Orym dragon on Flight Rising. Especially since I'm not actually going to be able to finish the latter until December unless I suddenly become willing to pay a premium for some apparel. (Stupid wrong-color crystal moon ball I don't even know what I want to use for the second moon *grumblemutter*)
The pose on fae dragons really makes me wish some of the accessory apparel had more than one option for placement because as it stands if I want to give him a shield I can't give him the vines and flowers on his hands because they get covered up. The compromise I came up with was to put it on the fae dragon's tail but that's kind of unsatisfying.
It's probably a good thing that I haven't even started on the outfit for an Ashton dragon on FR because the idiot wildclaws I'm trying to breed keep spitting out the wrong color ranges. I really don't want to do an all-wildclaw breeding project but I refuse to compromise and settle for a different dragon. I doubt I'll have a suitable dragon for Ashton this year unless I get absurdly lucky in a search.
#ignore morg#I do have a tendency to get absurdly lucky but it tends to be for weird things#If I get a perfect Ashton dragon it will be an Earth G1 with perfect colors and I'll have to spend crazy dragon money on all gem genes#because *that* is how luck works for me.#I got two shiny female sobbles in pokemon within a couple of hours when I played Pokemon Sword#what I was *trying* to do was get a hidden ability rookidee off of Wonder Trade (no I do not accept that gf renamed it fuck off)#and I was breeding my starter in order to have something decent to trade away. It took me actual days to get that fucking rookidee#Which of course also had to have one of two very specific pokeballs and be male#but I was able to fix those details by breeding the rookidee I actually got once I had it#I fucking wanted that Mirror Armor Corviknight man and I didn't continue with the game until I had it.#pissed off a friend of mine too by insisting on bending the game to MY will but I'm in the right so who cares? She got over it.#and I got mine which is the more important thing#Later used an exploit to force the game to spawn a second male Mirror Armor Corviknight that was shiny so now I have *both*#I don't usually cheat to get shinies but this method was fairly labor intensive and I needed him to be *perfect* so I went for it#produces legal pokemon too. Kind of a shame they patched it since it was about as hard as actually shiny hunting.#Guess they didn't like that once you had your custom shiny you could distribute it through raids.
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SEVIKA X CAMGIRL!READER !!
finally convincing your girlfriend to join you on your stream you realize later on how much of a mistake that was..
a/n — i didn’t like how this turned out but enjoy ☺️ it has usage of strap on, overstimulation, and kind of in public because your being recorded
three times a week you stream videos for your viewers in the office of the apartment you and sevika share, wearing the most gorgeous and revealing lingerie as always. just a one hour show gaining you about 200 bucks to just do stuff you and your girlfriend do every night for some randos. when you started dating her you had only just started to test the waters of cam shows and hadn’t gone all in yet, so when you told her about your recent hobby she was surprisingly not against it at all. in fact it’s how the two of you started to explore your sexual relationship with each other, trying out stuff you never thought you would do, but being comfortable with anyway because it was just the two of you. eventually you grew into the routine of your streams and wanted sevika to join you, always whining and pouting about wanting her to play with you but she would always decline, saying it was a nuisance.
however when you asked her to at least watch you she said yes, the show lasting a whopping 20 minutes before she told you to turn it off just so she could have her way with you, messing up all your pretty clothes and leaving you with tears in your eyes. you told sevika how you really wanted her to join you, pleading and letting her do anything she wanted to just so that she would agree. and she actually gave in after a couple of weeks of begging as she usually does because she could never resist when it comes to you, talking over it with her and making sure she 100% was okay with it. the two of you decided to do it next week when she came home from work and you would have a new set of lingerie coming in from the mail, courtesy of sevika as per usual!
when the day came you were nervous for some reason when you were putting together your set up, this routine had became normal to you but now that your girlfriend was joining you - your nerves were on 10. and it wasn’t a bad nervous feeling, no you just know what things people suggest to you in your chatbox and you just know how it might make your girlfriend a bit dramatic and jealous. you hear the front door close and your stream is about to start in 15 minutes, giving you enough time to gather yourself. walking out of the office you greet your girlfriend with open arms to give her a hug, “hi baby.” sevika says, kissing your forehead as the two of you rock together side to side at the doorway. “missed you sevi” nodding into her chest you feel a wave of relief rushing through you when your in her arms and all your nerves come down as you take in her scent.
you guys get started in the room, the stream starting as soon as you hit the red button, you look to sevika to see her leaning back on the desk, watching you set up. “go on.” she mouths to you as she puts out the cigarette she had, taking a gulp you turn on your camera to face you, your viewers flooding in going from 10 to 100 in mere minutes.
you greet them as you always do, of course added with the introduction of your special guest. “on tonights show we do have a special guest so get ready..” turning around you motion for sevika to come closer, walking up to the camera with that sway in her hips as she arrives on the screen.
telling your audience all about your girlfriend and what to expect for the stream, “don’t forget to hit the like button and enjoy the show!” you say as you look back to sevika, seeing her sat in the chair of the vanity that your camera is placed on as she watches you, “c’mere and sit down.” she says and you immediately walk to her with a smile, climbing onto her lap. making yourself comfortable while you hold her face seeing how cute she looks looking up at you, examining your face as she always does until you lower your lips to hers, kissing her so deeply and passionately. your girlfriend raises her arms to your ass as she breaths into the kiss, its always crazy how just a quick make out session could make you soaked and needy for her. and in this moment is when sevika realizes why she declined so many times when you asked her to join the stream, it was just the thoughtless “no.” each time but now she knew why.
she didn’t want to share this side of you with anyone, she didn’t want everyone to see how dumb she would make you by only shoving her tongue down your throat. the pathetic pretty sight of you that only she could make you experience was only for her eyes, deciding to make this quick even if it would end with tears. sevika still had her hands gripping the globes of your ass tightly as the puddle in your panties kept getting damper, moans coming from you as you moved on to your girlfriends neck. sucking and making bite marks all over her while sevika looked at the chatbox, people commenting “that’s so hot..” and other lustful thoughts while they watched you did much more than tick sevika off, making her scrunch her face in annoyance. sevika switches back to you taking your jaw in her hands gently, “lets go to the bed yeah?” making you nod your head while you get up from her lap to prop the camera next to the bed. crawling onto the comforter you face sevika at the end of it, lifting your chin up for a kiss as she slides down her boxers to reveal her strap underneath. it was a black dildo that was about 7 inches long with some girth around it, it was always a struggle to take all of it but sevika makes sure all of it fits every time. “get it nice and wet for me like you always do baby” following you with her eyes as you lower your head down, taking the silicon in your hands as you put it to your mouth giving it kisses at the tip.
taking the whole thing into your mouth stretches your jaw open, sevika bucking her hips forward a bit to force it down your throat a bit more, it makes you gag. gripping at your girlfriends thighs as you suck her dick, tears already trickling from your eyes when the rubber reaches as far as it can in your mouth, taking a bit more than half of it. “there you go baby, just like that.. my pretty girl.” that last part is said while she holds your jaw up to face her, your mouth still filled with her dick inside as she slides it out. by this point you have already long forgotten about your stream, which had previously never ever happened to you before, you were always in control when it came to your streams but sevikas presence in itself is enough to cloud your judgement.
that’s how you know end up laying on your back as you grip and pull at the sheets your currently laying on, with sevikas dick pushing deeper and deeper into your cunt. moans overflowing from your mouth as your stomach tenses,your hips rocking back and forth with your girlfriends large hands holding them harshly. your in missionary position and your lingerie is long gone— facing her but avoiding her piercing eyes by squeezing them shut, a series of pleads coming from your mouth. “hngh vika s’too much!” her name falling out your mouth so easily brings a smile to sevikas face every time face. “such a fucking crybaby, relax..” you don’t know how she can tell you to relax when she’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that same spot repeatedly that she knows makes you go crazy. moving her hand from your hips sevika brings her fingers to your neglected clit, circling the bud crudely when your hands fly to your mouth.
it’s way too much for you and sevika knows that but it’s what makes it all the more fun for her to watch, seeing you struggle and cry because of her hands on you like this. “don’t cover your mouth, let em hear you c’mon” she says pulling your hands from your mouth, tears welling from your eyes as she holds your hands to her stomach with one hand. “know how much i like to hear that pretty voice..” still rubbing at your bud you feel yourself cumming, your face scrunching up and your chest heaving up and down. “m’cumming sev please..” pleading for her to help you get there, sevika rocks into you deeper as your hips flow together. your so soaked that your cunt can be heard loud and clear on the camera, a harsh plap-plap-plap echoing in the room even though the camera is more than a few feet away from the bed, you can’t even imagine what the people in the chat are saying and you honestly couldn’t care at the moment.
you are too focused on how good sevikas making you feel and it almost makes you forget how to breathe but sevika can just tell how close you were. “yeah you gonna cum for us sweet girl? you love it when im deep inside you like this huh..” she says looking at the camera, turning back to see you nodding your head as your eyes go half lidded, feeling the coil in your stomach snapping with the help of sevikas words. legs quivering on her shoulders you coat the black silicon in your slick, a white ring covering the base. you twitch as your back arches off the bed, sevika watching you with praiseful eyes, if she wasn’t so focused on getting her baby to cum she probably would have came herself.
but she’s “kind” enough to let you catch your breath for a couple of seconds before sliding her dick out of your messy pussy, a uttering cry pulled from your throat as you instinctively close your legs from the loss. she pulls your legs to the edge of the bed as she kneels down on the floor, “open your legs.” is said with a impatient tone, waiting for you to defer to what she told you. “mm sevi I can’t! already came just now, I need a break..” instantly feeling your cheeks get hotter as you watch sevikas face, a stare you don’t get too often but when you do, you know that your doing something your not supposed to be doing. “you know im not gonna repeat myself baby..” a quiet whimper coming from you as you do as your told, shyly opening your legs for your girlfriend. she holds your thighs down to your stomach, they already ache and she hadn’t even begun to torture you yet.
lowering her head down, sevika laps at your soaked cunt, slurping and licking up stripes to your clit. you can’t even attempt to keep your moans to yourself, gripping at the sheets below you as you cry’s fill the room, your babbling to her about how it’s too much while your legs quiver and hesitate to close on sevikas head. “so fucking wet..this is all for me huh baby?” she says as she thrust her fingers into your hole, already soaked from the strap that was deep inside you just moments ago. leaving you panting as she holds your thighs down to the bed, licking up all your slick as if she hadn’t eaten for days, the sight alone was more than enough to make you overwhelmed as you feel yourself cumming again. “vika, vika sevika- please m’cumming again!” you hiccup, gripping at the dark brunettes hair, uncontrollably grinding your messy cunt against sevikas face trying to chase that sweet relief. she rolls her tongue against your clit while leaving trails of praise every time she comes up to kiss at your thigh or look at you, with her focus fixated completely on you as your legs shake around her head, squeezing your teary eyes shut with a cry. “taste so sweet..” is whispered as sevika gets up from in between your legs to give you a kiss on your forehead, “did so good for me baby.” you hear from her, walking over to your camera set up. in the midst of all this you completely forgot you were even filming, your head way up in the clouds of pleasure and you were completely embarrassed. you watch as she grumbles to the camera and signs off of it, walking back to you with a smile. sitting on the edge of the bed with her hand cupping your face while her thumb rubs across the soft flesh of your cheek, “do you usually make 1k everytime you stream? I didn’t know I was missing out on miss celebrity over here.” she says with a chuckle and your just laying there with shocked eyes, you never made that amount of money before for a show, in fact you just barely started to make 200. “and I love you baby but im never doing this again.” your girlfriend says with her stern tone as usual ending with a kiss on your forehead, nodding to her, you knew you were definitely gonna make her do this again.
#sevika x reader <3#sevika x reader#sevika smut#sevika arcane#sevika#I didn’t know how to end this tbh#ok so this is buns but I wanted to get smth out while I work on the logan plinks and my requests 😓😓😓#bear with me#arcane
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velvet lies
pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8564 tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: longer chapter woohoo, was gonna write after break but had so much inspo. wrote on my phone, so if there’s any typos, please ignore 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter
The nights haven’t been easy in the past couple of days. Mingled with a growing sense of anxiety added on top of your already heightened stress, your brain just can’t seem to shut off. You’ve tried melatonin and no more caffeine, but caffeine is ultimately getting you through the day and keeping you up when needed. In all honesty, you’ve already been struggling with sleep, but with the surprise meet with Suguru, dread’s been pooling in your stomach.
You have no doubt he spilled the beans. Hell, you would too if that was your best friend. You can only hope he somehow didn’t, though. A small part of you would be a little annoyed if he did, because again, he has no role in this. At least not a big one.
A sudden banging on your door jolts you upright, checking the clock and it’s not even 7:30 yet. Only one person could be demanding your presence so early. A heavy sigh leaves you, forcing your stiff muscles out of bed, wrapping yourself in a robe before trudging to the front door. When you peek through the peephole, your landlord stands there with an annoyed expression on his old face, foot tapping the ground in impatience.
“Bastard,” you mumble to yourself before opening the door. “Good morning, Mr. Sato.”
Seems he doesn’t have time for fake pleasantries, “Y/N, I’m assuming you saw the eviction note I left on your door yesterday morning.”
Unfortunately. “Yes, sir. I did.”
His arms cross, scratching at his greying mustache, “So, is it also safe to to assume you’ll have the money by next Friday?”
You sigh heavily, hand running through your hair. This is not how you wanted to start your morning. He was already making your life hell by suddenly raising your rent out of nowhere three months ago for so-called “renovations”. But you’ve yet to see any actual renovations being done. Not to mention, you’ve been bugging about your heater no longer working, and during this time of year, you and Koji are practically freezing to death. You had to buy a portable heater, small, but it gets the job done. Although it’s mainly in Koji’s room because you’d rather freeze than let him. “Look, Mr. Sato, I’m really trying here. I’m working hard to get the money, but please understand that—”
“Understand? I’ve been understanding, Y/N. I even applied last month’s rent to this month, just ‘cause of you.”
Of course, he’s gonna throw that in your face. Landlords seem to take their title so literally that if he didn’t have this much control over your space of safety, you would’ve ripped him a new one. Also, how could you forget that to even get him to agree to that plea deal, you were forced through an hour and a half of an uncomfortable, infuriating dinner with the man. Really, he’s not giving you much to work with here, but then again, you shouldn’t have had such high hopes. “I know, I know,” you reply, scratching at your roots. “I’ll have the money, okay?”
“You better,” he says gruffly. “Or I’m renting this unit to someone who can actually afford it. I’m hurting here too, you know?”
You huff. “Yeah, thanks.”
Without another word, you close the door in the man’s face, locking it. Leaning your back up against the hard surface, you close your eyes and will yourself to stay calm and positive. Counting back from ten and then back, a small tip your therapist showed you before your insurance no longer covered it. It’s okay. It’s only the start of the day, you have 20 something hours left. Now’s not the time to throw yourself a pity party and play woe is me. Now’s the time to just pick yourself up and move on. You’ll find a solution for the money, you always do.
Though this time, you can’t help but feel you’re really fucked.
I mean, you honestly have no idea how you’re going to come up with almost four thousand dollars in just a week. That sounds quite literally impossible in every single way. You get paid next week, but with taxes, you’re going home with maybe three thousand, so how will you get that extra thousand?
Unless some miracle decides to hit you, which almost never seems to happen. You used to think someone hoaxed you, or you were just born with the most unluckiest luck ever. Or, the more cynical thought you tend to have, you were fated to live a life in strict financial management, and hardships are constantly thrown at you left and right.
But hey, you’ve made it this far, right?
“No, I haven’t.”
“You what?!”
“I haven’t told him.”
“Y/N, what the fu–”
“Jesus Christ, I know, Hana. You don’t have to make me feel even more like shit.”
Your friend stops mid-way, eyeing your very displeased expression. She sighs and relents, slumping back in the small chair in the backroom of the cafe. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting your confession simmer and process. When she does, it’s an honest question. “But…why?”
Why. You feel like you’re staring to hate that damn word. “A lot of reasons, I know it’s not really justified, but I just…need someone to understand me for once. Not come at me for my dumb decisions.”
Your words feel bare and raw, not completely exposing the extent of the emotions you’ve been harboring, but enough to make her stop. Hana regards you with pursed lips, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Finally, she nods. “Okay, I won’t question you anymore. You have your reasons, and your reasons are always valid. So, I’m behind you on this. We stick together, remember?”
A hint of a smile forms on your lips, quietly thanking her. She comes forward to give you a hug, one you immediately reciprocate. Her auburn hair tickling your nostrils, arms seemingly tightening. “Don’t go holding things in anymore, I told you that. I’m here, to talk, listen, whatever.”
You and Hana met three years ago. She was just your co-worker at the time, now promoted to your manager. Although she’s two years younger than you, you two relate to a lot of things. Whether that be movies, food, what guys are hot, or alcohol. If anything, Hana might be your only friend in general. It’s a little sad, maybe, but at least you have someone to come to when you need to talk about adult issues your five-year-old wouldn’t be able to comprehend.
“I love you.” You find yourself muttering.
“I love you too, girl. Now, get out there, your break’s up.”
Jokingly scoffing and nudging her, you stand from the seat and do a quick stretch. Preparing yourself for yet another few hours of dreaded customer service and fake smiles, you walk out of the backroom, pushing the small curtains aside that separate the back from the counter, and clock back in.
“Cash or card?”
“Hello, how can I help you today?”
“Would that be all?”
“Have a nice day.”
Are all phrases any retail or customer service worker finds a little annoying, if not a lot. It’s so draining. And when the customers don’t greet you back, your pettiness shines through and you won’t even say have a good day to them when they’re leaving. Although, the job does have some upsides to it. For example, you get to make free coffees, take whatever pastries are left at the end of the day home, and the customers are never really bad. Of course, you have had a couple experiences, but nothing compared to a chain store. You’re even starting to use your customer service voice throughout the day, even when you’re not at work. Honestly, that’s not very good.
As you’re wiping up the counter, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you see a set of numbers, an unsaved contact. You give Hana a quick glance, muttering a “just a sec”, before going back to the back to answer. “Hello?”
“Y/N?”
God, it’s gonna take some time getting used to his voice on the regular now. “Oh, Suguru. hey…uh–what’s up?”
There’s some shuffle on the other side like he’s adjusting the phone. “Are you busy right now?”
“Well, yes. I’m on the clock.”
He sighs, phone switching to his car output. “Where do you work? I’ll come now.”
“What?” you splutter out, head shaking. “No, Suguru, you can’t just pop out at my job. I’m busy, just tell me what you need right now.”
“I’m not sure I should.”
That statement alone scares you a bit. His cynicism always got on your nerves, but it also worried you from time to time. Most of the time, he didn’t mean any harm because that’s just how Suguru was, but it still did its job. Contemplation strikes through you. “Is it bad?”
He hesitates, which only further skyrockets your anticipation. “Honestly, it’s not too bad. But still, I need to talk to you.”
A breath emits from your lips, one you didn’t know you were holding. Eyes meeting the ceiling, you ponder over your decisions. Eventually, you come to a conclusion. “Fine, but it can’t be too long. I’m at Deja Brew, the cafe on–”
“On Express, got it. Be there in a bit.”
He’s hanging up before you even get a chance to question that he knew the cafe you worked at. If he did, surely he would have visited at least once, but you’ve never seen him come in. And you’re every day. Unless he usually comes when you’re not clocked in anymore. Anywho, you steel yourself for the inevitable conversation. Anticipating whatever bad or not-so-good news he'll give you.
“So.”
“Mm, this is good.” Suguru nods appreciatively, sipping from his coffee. You made it for him before he arrived, as a weird sort of gift to him. You two have situated yourself in a booth in the corner. Hana was a little confused as to why you were taking a break while you were on the clock, even regarding you with an almost scolding look. But the second she saw Suguru follow, her expression changed.
You practically saw the heart eyes form, smiling in a bashful way. That’s one thing you forgot about. The way girls would magnetize themselves towards the man, his best friend too. The two together were an almost deadly duo.
“Suguru,” you say, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “Please just…don’t stall anymore. Why did you want to see me?”
“Right,” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. Once more, his steely gaze meets yours, you have to hold back the sudden urge to look away. “Like I said, it’s not terrible news, but not very good either.”
You nod, wanting him to just stop with the extraness and get to the point. “Okay, say it.”
“Satoru.” is the first thing he says, gauging your automatic grimace to his name. “He knows.”
Figures. “And you told him?”
He nods in response. You exhale, rubbing your face. “Suguru, why? I didn’t say you could.”
“I mean, I didn’t think I needed permission to tell my best friend he has a secret love child he hasn’t known about for five years, Y/N.” You hate when his voice gets like that, like you’re a school child who’s just been caught by her teacher for doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Anywho, he knows. He wasn’t…very happy.”
You slowly ask, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer. “What did he say?”
“More so what he did than said,” he pushes a stray strand of black hair out his eye and behind his ear, arms crossing. “He’s been quite easy to anger. I mean, I haven’t really talked to him because he’s not answering my calls, but I’ve been hearing from people at the office. He also kicked my ass out right after I told him. But that’s all I know at least, Nanami says he’s like a ticking time bomb.”
Jesus Christ. You don’t know what else you were expecting, you’re surprised he hasn’t done worse, but like Suguru said, that’s all he knows. His state is most likely a hundred times worse than what’s being thrown at you right now. You feel an intense guilt pool, mixing with a slight fear. “Did he…do anything else? Say anything?”
“I don’t know, he’s not talking to me right now.” Suguru concedes, leaning closer to you, brows furrowing in a seriousness. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel worse, but I should let you know. He’s going to try and seek you out now that he knows about his son. You know that, right?”
Of course, you fucking know that. That’s what makes you scared, the possibility of somehow running across him in the most unsuspecting of places makes you want to stay holed up in your shitty apartment. “Yeah,” you gulp. “I figured.”
“I don’t know how he’ll react if–when–he does see you.” he honestly admits. “I just think you should reach out to him first, before he does it. I have his number, you should ca—”
“Stop.” you hold a hand up, eyes closing. “No more, I don’t want to be told what to do. I just…need some time processing everything right now.”
“Y/N–”
“Suguru,” your eyes open, staring at him dead on. “You seriously can’t expect me to jump from one thing to the next. I need fucking time to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m already stressed as it is, now I have to worry about my son’s father possibly trying to reach out and that just sets me more on fucking edge. You come to my work, spring this on me, and I–” you’re rambling. Cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence, choosing not to finish it. The last thing you need to do is rant to him. Besides, you’re just starting to see him again after five years, that would absolutely put him in a weird place between comforting someone who was once his friend, and backing up his life-long best friend.
You jolt a bit when you feel a warm palm envelope your hand, his thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. Looking back at him, he gives you an all too familiar look. One that can make you just pour out everything you’re feeling right at that second. It’s a horrifying technique he has. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like shit. I should’ve been more considerate. I’m sorry.” He apologizes with a soothing intonation. Again, it’s making you feel warm. “It’s a hard situation, I could never know exactly what you’re going through. but…I care about you, Y/N. I always have, even without Satoru’s involvement. So, I’ll do better and not overwhelm you.”
Damn it, Suguru. Now you’re making me feel bad! Not trusting yourself with words, you meekly nod, slowly pulling your hand out his grasp. You miss the way his eyes dart down to his now empty grip, a small downward twitch to his lip that he expertly hides. “I should go back to work, I’m assuming you do too.” You stand on wobbly feet, giving him one last lingering gaze. “On the house, by the way….yeah, bye.”
Suguru watches you disappear behind the curtains, a small pit expanding in his gut. He pushes it away without thought, sighing to himself as he stands and exits the cafe. He walks down the sidewalk to his blacked out 2025 Mustang GT parked on the street. Getting in with a heavy head that’s full of all kinds of emotions. Some he doesn’t try to acknowledge, but the ones he does, it’s all worry and concern. He really doesn’t see how this situation can somehow turn around. Maybe you two will have a very mature and calm conversation when you cross paths.
He almost laughs to himself when he begins driving. Calm? Mature? Yeah, right. How do you have a calm conversation about hiding a kid for five years? Not to mention, you and Satoru are equally stubborn; it used to be so infuriating for him.
Suguru had patience, a lot of it actually. But you two tended to test that. Although, he would always forgive one of you the quickest. Cough, cough. You. It was like you had this weird thing about you that made the people around you just…like you.
His grip tightens on the wheel, biting his lip. He gets to a red light, thumb tapping on the material. Damn it all.
There’s a ringing that emits from the car’s speakers, looking at his touch screen to see the familiar name. Using this as a distraction, he answers. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Shoko’s voice sounds out. “Where are you? Thought you were paying for my lunch.”
He huffs, eyes rolling, and moving the car forward once the light turns green. “I never agreed to that.”
“Sure you did,” Shoko replies, exhaling a breath. She must be smoking. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m already waiting outside. I thought Satoru was coming, is he gonna be late again?”
Yeah, no. “I don’t think he’s coming anymore.”
“Why not?” Shoko asks.
Suguru exhales heavily, turning the street towards the meet-up spot with his friend. “Some shit happened, I don’t think he’s doing good.”
Shoko pauses, adjusting her phone in hand. “What happened?”
Suguru too stops, completely forgetting how Shoko has no idea about what has transpired in the past couple of days. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”
Satoru has never been surprised before, not technically. He’s a smart man with quick instincts and a good foresight, it’s like he can always tell when something is going to happen, before it happens. Even for birthday parties, his perception and people reading skills are great, he knows when someone’s lying or not telling the full truth.
In short, he knows a lot of things.
But, what he didn’t expect was for 1) even hearing your name ever again after the breakup, and 2) you have a son, his son. A son he had not one goddamn clue about. The only person who’s ever been able to throw him off his game is you.
Even back when you two dated, there were moments where you’d either say or do things that would make him pause for a second and think how unlikely that was of you. He knew you’d lie sometimes, small white lies weren’t foreign to him because he did it too. But, he never thought you’d deliberately keep something like this from him.
And to top it off, if Suguru never saw you by chance that day, would you have ever even told him?
Now that really fucking pisses him off.
When Satoru is mad, everyone else’s day is ruined. When he’s mad, you can see it in his face, his body, how he’s just barely holding himself back. It’s even more scary when Satoru is known as the laid-back, playful and unserious type of man. So when he’s mad, almost no one in the office wants to make him even angrier, let alone be around him.
He’s barely slept a total of ten hours within the past two days, mind keeping him awake. He’s trying to not imagine the image of you holding a boy who looks like him because he’s already broken one too many pairs of glasses and the thought alone makes him infuriated. He sees a blinding white flash of betrayal, hurt, confusion, and anger.
He doesn’t mean to take it out on his employees, but their feelings are not on his list of priorities.
He has a son.
A son who’s five, apparently.
Five whole years of being kept in the dark, not even being blessed with a smidge of information about his offspring. While he was off fucking women, having fun, dreading about taking over his father’s business, you were god knows where, changing fucking diapers and losing sleep. And for what? Were you that fucking scared to tell him?
Oh, he’s so going to rip you a new one when he sees you.
But, he’s still not sure if he wants to do that. Afraid of what might happen, he’d rather not blow up on you, but can you blame him if he does?
He just found out he has a secret love child from a woman he knew years ago and know he’s expected to act like everything is normal in this boring fucking meeting?
Not to mention, if his father finds out, he’s not sure what will happen. If anyone else finds out, for that matter. If anything, he needs to get a reign over this messy situation before he’s allowing anyone to know.
“Mr. Gojo? What do you think?”
At the sudden mention of his name, he snaps back into focus. Eyes flickering over to the bald-headed man who currently stands in front of the table of other withering men, the screen projector displaying a multitude of different statistical data. The man falters slightly, his grip tightening on the laser pointer as Gojo’s eyes land on him
Shit. He has no idea what they were even talking about. “About?” He clears his throat, appearing nonchalant, though the tight hold on the ballpoint pen says otherwise, the faint click of it opening and closing the only indication of his simmering irritation
The room feels colder, quieter.
The man clears his throat nervously. “The expansion plan... into the Asia-Pacific region. Whether you think it’s viable in the current climate.”
Gojo leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his pen continues its faint, rhythmic clicks. His expression is unreadable, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lets the silence stretch a moment too long. “And you need my opinion on this?” he says finally, his tone polite but tinged with condescension.
The bald man shifts on his feet, adjusting his glasses. “W-We... wanted your insight, given your, uh, experience overseeing the European division.”
“Right,” Gojo says, dragging the word out just enough to make the man squirm. He tilts his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if I’d been paying attention, I’d probably say something about how overly cautious you all seem to be. But that’s just a guess.”
The bald man blanches, stammering, “O-Overly cautious? We’ve taken every factor into account—”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gojo cuts in smoothly, his voice softening just enough to disarm the growing panic in the man’s voice. “I’m just wondering if maybe all those ‘factors’ are holding you back. Are we leaders, or are we playing it safe like everyone else?” His eyes flicker briefly over the rest of the table, daring anyone to challenge him.
The bald man hesitates, then nods quickly, his nervous energy palpable. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Gojo. I’ll revisit the projections to—”
“No need,” Gojo interrupts again, flashing a faint, humorless smile. “I trust you’ll figure it out. Unless you think I shouldn’t.”
The man practically trips over his words in an effort to assure him. “No, no, of course not. I’ll make the adjustments immediately.”
“Perfect,” Gojo says, the finality in his tone dismissing the topic entirely. He shifts his attention to the projector screen, the numbers and graphs blurring together as his thoughts drift.
The room eventually moves on, the hum of conversation resuming. But Gojo doesn’t miss the quick glances from across the table, the subtle unease lingering in the air.
He taps the pen against the table, his jaw tightening. It’s taking everything in him not to snap, not to let the weight of the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a filthy fucking person seep through the cracks.
Let them sweat. It’s the only thing keeping him entertained today.
The minute the awful meeting of ifs and hesitant decisions is over, he’s pushing out his chair, being the first one to leave the haunted room. It’s a bad mistake on his end, because his secretary, Aiko, is on his ass. “Mr. Gojo, your father is waiting for you in your office.”
Great, as if things couldn’t get any fucking better. He holds back a remark, gruffing out. “For?”
“He didn’t say, sir. He just wanted me to tell you to see him as soon as the meeting finished.”
He really, really doesn’t want to see his father right now. The two were too alike, constantly butting heads which only ended in a harsh set of insults being tossed around, mingled with occasional threats of “never passing the company down to someone as idiotic as you”. His father is bluffing, of course. He has no other person to pass it down to, with Satoru being the oldest and only son of his father’s. His long legs easily lead him to the doors of his office, to which he hesitates. Taking in a big breath, before opening the doors and closing them soon after. “What is it?” he asks, walking over to sit in his chair, leaning back comfortably.
His father, Yamato Gojo, the current CEO of the Gojo Group, who sits leisurely on the black leather coach stands up to position himself across from his son. Arms crossed and the permanently etched frown on his face. “Why didn’t you come to the dinner yesterday? There were very important people there you needed to meet. I texted and called you.”
Why didn’t he go? Can he really just say “sorry dad, I was stressing about this shithole I’ve found myself in”. No, he can’t. Instead, he shrugs and brushes his father off. “I was already busy.”
“Busy with what? What’s more important than networking?”
“A lot of things, actually.”
Yamato dislikes that answer quite a lot, frown seemingly deepening, regarding his son with another usual disapproving look. “Satoru, this is serious. They were expecting you and you embarrassed me. I won’t let this happen again, when I say you need to be somewhere, you be there. No if, ands, or buts. You’re pissing me off.”
How ironic of him to say that considering he’s having the exact same effect of Satoru. He isn’t scared of his father, hell no. But he does know to pick and choose his battles. And with the way his mind is completely scrambled right now, he forces himself to intake a huge breath of air. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll be there next time. Happy?”
“Only after you prove it.” Like father, like son. Satoru hates how his father always seems to want to get the last word in. But his father hates how he does the exact same.
Throughout the entirety of his shift, up until he clocks out of work and walks to his designated parking spot which houses his white 2025 Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. Driving back to his high rise penthouse on autopilot, his thoughts zeroed in on one person only. Or well, two people.
Satoru wasn’t ever sure he wanted to be a father. He knew it was expected of him, but so many people had such high expectations of him, it became exhausting. Too exhausting. Does he even have a right to call himself a father to a child he never knew, a child who probably doesn’t even know him?
His right hand reaches for his phone, calling a number without taking his eyes off the road. It answers on the first ring, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Do you know where she lives?”
There’s a falter, hearing Suguru’s deep breath come out on the other end. “No, I don’t. And nice to hear from you too.”
“I don’t have time for your sarcasm right now.” He stops at a red light, using his left hand to rub the crease between his furrowed brows. “Do you know anything? Her number? Where she works? Where did you see her so I can go over?”
“Satoru, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go meet up with her again. You’re obviously not in the right mind space and I don’t want you two to—“
“I’ll argue with her all I want, I have that goddamn right to.” Satoru grits out, interrupting his friend before he has the chance to spew out more shit he’d rather not listen to right now. “Answer me.”
In Suguru’s mind, he knows if he gives Satoru even the tiniest bit of information regarding your whereabouts, he’ll storm over there and probably say things he doesn’t mean. Satoru tends to think emotionally in very dire situations, a bad habit of his. Still, although he knows his best friend should be angered by this situation, Suguru doesn’t want to involve himself. More than he has. After speaking with you, he’s come to the conclusion that you’ll reach out to Satoru soon. Considering the fact that he already knows. “I don’t know, I saw her at a grocery store, but she was just shopping.”
“Fuck,” Satoru groans, moving his car forward again. “Well how the hell do I—“
He’s cut off by a small vibrate to his phone, a message. When he looks down, the screen is overtaken by a new call coming in from Himari. Honestly, she’s the last person he wants to talk to right now.
“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, after noticing the small beat of silence from the other end of the phone.
What isn’t wrong? “Gotta go, call you later.”
“Sat—“
Satoru ends the call, picking up the new one. “Hey.”
“Baby,” Himari’s light voice fills his ears, sighing in relief. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the mall but the tires of my driver’s car popped.”
He’d rather not, but Satoru has found out that it’s been quite difficult to say no to his girlfriend. So, he puts his own internal and external battles to the side, making a right turn and exhaling. “The mall?”
“Yes, baby. Thank you so much.”
He hums back in response. “Be there in ten, wait outside.” Once again, he hangs up and a suffocating silence fills his car. Hands tightening around the wheel, he reels himself in with a big inhale, then exhales. He can’t show these sorts of emotions in front of the woman, for she’ll no doubt question and question about what’s wrong, which will then lead to an argument. He doesn’t need arguments.
As Satoru sees the mall in the distance, he’s overrun by the sudden determination. The determination to find you and meet his son.
“Just one more question, Koji. Then let’s eat dinner, how does that sound?”
The young boy groans in annoyance, the math work of simple addition problems laid out in front of him. He hates math, almost as much as you, excelling in other subjects like English and Art. “But Mama……” he drags the words out in a childish manner.
Plating two plates of tonkatsu chicken with curry, one plate smaller than the other, you turn to your son who now has a pout on his face. You resist the urge to pinch his cheeks. “You can do it, you did the other ones so well.”
Sitting next to him, you look over at his workbook. Just one more problem. It’s a problem consisting of three numbers, 5, 23, and 6. Simple in your eyes, but a disastrous monstrosity in the eyes of a five-year-old. “Mama will help you, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.” Koji grumbles, reluctantly grabbing his red pencil again.
Times like these you cherish. Sure, it’s mundane and not very exciting. But it’s the little things that matter most to you. Helping your kids with homework, helping them learn to ride a bike, tie their laces, it’s all wonderful experiences from your perspective. Proof of the fact that your chubby little baby isn’t very little anymore, growing into his own person. Although, the more he grows, the more he’s starting to resemble his father. It’s scary at times, when he looks at you and you get random flashbacks.
Eating dinner and washing up is another thing you love. After such a hectic day, you just want to unwind with your son. You had put in your PTO for the convenience store a month in advance; after a particularly hard month. Finishing at 5:00pm, like most people do, is a breath of fresh air.
You let Koji tire himself out in the tub, then the living room, to which he has Cars playing (his favorite movie at the time). He plays with his own small set of matching cars, while you sweep the kitchen. Your eyes flicker over to your phone that lays face up on the island, a bubbling sensation forming in your being, one of contemplation. You wonder to yourself, would you call Satoru? You know his number by heart, he most likely hasn’t changed it.
After the breakup, you cut off all contact with him and his friends, even choosing to get a new phone and new number, just to avoid any possibly drives of texting him, or to avoid him texting you. You quite literally wanted to erase every memory about him.
Kinda hard to do that when you’re raising his carbon copy.
After another blind minute, you pause your sweeping and grab your cellular device. You’re about to grab Suguru’s business card from your purse when a sudden question hits you.
How was he able to call you earlier at work if you had never given your number to him in the first place?
Your brows knit together while you come up with any possible solutions and reasoning to that thought, coming up blank. Seriously, how did he call you? Without thinking, you go to your recent calls, pressing the first one, and raising your phone to your ear.
It rings for about a second, before Suguru’s coaxing voice follows. “Hello?”
“How did you get my number?”
“What?”
“How did you get my number? I didn’t give it to you at the store.”
You can practically hear the way he’s trying to formulate an answer. Coming up with a shitty one. “I just…guessed.”
You say nothing, your eyes narrowing on a certain spot on the blank white walls of your kitchen.
Another second passes before he gives in, too easily. “Okay, okay. Look, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but—“
“Were you stalking me?”
“What?! No! Of course not, Y/N. I’d never do that.”
“Then tell me how you got my number without me telling you.”
He sighs. “…I have a friend. He’s in the law enforcement and I…may have asked around. But before you get any ideas, I was worried. You just fell off the face of the Earth and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You can’t stop the huff that leaves you. Should you feel complimented that he went out of his own way to do all this or invaded? Maybe both. Honestly, you did that all for a reason. And he blatantly went behind yours, probably everyone’s, back to get some information on you in a shady way. Isn’t that illegal or something? “Suguru, when people do that, it doesn’t mean they want to be found.”
“I know, Y/N. But I was worried, so was Shoko and Satoru—“
“Does he know my number too?” You ask, already feeling your panic run up your veins, boy straightening into a stiff position.
“No, no, he doesn’t. Just me.” He quickly relieves you.
You guess that’s somewhat better. Although you still feel mildly annoyed at Suguru for what he did. “Is that all you know?” The way he doesn’t respond immediately makes you feel even more frustrated, jaw clenching.
“I….” He lets out a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.”
“What else do you fucking know?”
He winces at your now harsh tone of voice, though he knows it’s all expected. “It wasn’t on purpose, I just wanted your number, I swear. But when you’re looking for that kind of stuff, other things pop up like…address and…yeah.”
If only he could see your expression right now. “You know where I fucking live?”
“Yes, Y/N….”
Okay, now your privacy is very invaded. You have never really gotten angry with Suguru, let alone get into an argument. He always knew when to stop, what not to say to make someone else feel worse, but did he just get fucking dumb after all these years? “…are you serious?” You know he is, not even giving him the chance to answer your rhetorical question. “Fuck you, Suguru. I can’t believe you—you completely—I don’t even know what to tell you right now.”
You can hear the guilt in his voice, tone softening. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I had the best intentions, I was never going to visit you or call you without your specific permission to.”
“Did I give you permission to call me earlier?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Exactly.” With another scoff, you bite your lip, picking the correct words to voice out. You wouldn’t say you’re a word vomit person, usually. But right now, you just feel…slightly weirded out. All this time, you thought you had solitude. But Suguru knew where you were this entire time? “Goodbye, Suguru.”
“Y/N, wai—“
“Don’t. If I need you, I’ll tell you. But right now I don’t want to speak to you.”
He pauses, feeling his gut tighten. Nonetheless, he nods and mutters. “Okay, I’ll give you space. Just please know I’m sorry and I really didn’t have bad intentions.”
Seems like this is the second time today he’s apologizing to you. You don’t like it. Without another word, you end the call, putting your phone back on the hard surface of the island. Jesus Christ. What the hell is going on, seriously?
One minute you’re stressing about getting evicted, then you have to worry about Satoru somehow running into you, and now you find out Suguru has just casually known your address all these years. Why is all of this deciding to be sprung on you all at once? Out of no where? The world must be punishing you for every unholy deed you’ve done in your life; it really doesn’t seem fair. At all. Can’t things just go right for once in your life? You just want to go at least a day without external stressors fucking you over in every way possible.
Of course, you’re unlucky. That’s just how things have always been for you. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, and you’re the punchline to every cruel joke. The thought of Suguru knowing your address sends a cold, uncomfortable shiver down your spine. What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?
The questions swirl in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. You sit down heavily on the edge of your worn-out couch, its cushions sagging beneath you as though they, too, are tired of carrying your weight. You bury your face in your hands, the skin of your palms rough against your cheeks, and take a deep, shaky breath.
Satoru (and Suguru). Their names alone bring up a storm of emotions you can barely keep bottled up. You’ve worked so hard to keep them, and everything they represent, in the past. Yet here they are, forcing their way back into your life like unwelcome ghosts.
You glance at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table, mocking you with their bold red lettering. As if you didn’t already know you were drowning. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the tide.
You watch Koji focus on the bright screen, moving his toy cars in unison with the movie. Willing yourself to worry about the now, to convince yourself that you’re not done, that there’s still some fight left in you.
However, that seems to be proving harder each and every single day.
It’s a chilly, but sunny winter day. The sidewalk filled with other people going about their day. You’re wearing a black trenchcoat, along with a scarf. Hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat as little puffs of white air leave your mouth, a stark piece of evidence of how cold it is today. The heels of your shoes clacking down the concrete, making your way to the familiar cafe of Latte Lounge.
Saturdays are supposed to be happy days, a final breath of fresh air after the business of the weekdays prior. The day where people enjoy Mother Nature and what she has to offer, a day of sleeping in, a day of no responsibilities.
A woman like you has no Saturdays. It’s like every day is a cold, hard Monday.
You finally spot the cafe, its large, glass windows giving you a sneak peek to the liveliness that resides inside. Of course, most people do choose to go to cafes on Saturdays. Especially this early in the morning. Walking in, the small bell above the door dings. The workers behind the counter greet you; while you give them a half greeting back, your eyes scan the environment. It takes a few seconds, but you see Mr. Ito sitting at a table for two in the corner.
You prepare yourself with a heavy sigh, forcing your feet to maneuver you over to the man who smiles and stands once he sees you approaching. “Ms. Y/N, good morning.”
“Good morning.” You’re a little caught off guard when he takes the empty seat from across from him and pulls it out, a silent move of help. Sitting down, he pushes your chair in then walks back over to his own. He laces his fingers together on top of the table. “Get whatever you’d like, on me, remember?”
“Oh, I’m not very thirsty right now.”
“No, please. It’s my pleasure, especially for meeting with me so early this morning.”
A part of you wants to deny his niceness. But, he did cause you to lose money you could’ve still had to spare if you didn’t have to call in Sana to watch Koji. And well, coffee always makes you feel better. “Just an iced vanilla latte.”
He nods and stands up. “Great, I’ll be back.”
Watching him go up to the counter and order, you look back down at your lap. Koji misbehaving sounds odd, he’s always been an obedient kid. Of course he has his moments, but he understands when to listen and when to goof around. A few minutes later, Mr. Ito sits back down with two cups of coffee, sliding yours over to you. You thank him and sip. Hm, not too bad.
There’s a small silence that flows over you two as you taste your coffees, but you wait for him to speak first. He did schedule this little meeting, after all. He clears his throat. “So, Ms. Y/N, again thank you for meeting with me.”
You nod. “Of course, Mr. Ito. Anything for Koji.”
Mr. Ito smiles, his hand waving you off. “Oh please, call me Haruto.”
Already trying to get on a first name basis. Simply nodding again, you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.
“Anywho, like I said earlier this week, I have concerns about Koji’s behavior. You see, he’s had about six instances where he doesn’t listen to me when I say it’s time for silent reading time. I understand he’s a talkative child, but he usually does not act out like this. Would you happen to have any idea as to why he is behaving this way so suddenly?”
“No, I don’t. Koji listens well, and he hasn’t come to me specifically about getting in trouble.” You respond, lips pursing.
Mr. Ito nods in understanding. “I can assume so, but his behavior has started affecting his peers, as well.”
You sit up straighter in your chair. “In what way?”
“Well,” Mr. Ito tilts his head, seemingly recounting the times Koji has misbehaved. “The students who sit around him have started coming to me, complaining about how Koji doesn’t leave them alone. They feel as if he’s taking away from their learning.”
What? Not to mention that that sounds quite…interesting for other five year olds to say, but no way Koji has been that bad. Maybe it’s your bias as his parent, but this is brand new to you, very brand new. Even when he’s home, Koji always insists on doing his homework before playing or eating dinner. So really, you’re not sure how to react to this surge of new information about your own child. “I really don’t know, Mr. Ito. I mean, Koji is a great boy, he listens very well to me and the other adults in his life. I’m just as shocked as you are right now.”
Mr. Ito leans back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not doubting your parenting skills. Koji’s clearly a bright and energetic boy. Maybe too energetic for some of his classmates to handle.” His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent there, something you can’t quite place. “It’s possible he’s just seeking attention in ways that might not be obvious at home.”
You nod slowly, though his words don’t sit right with you. Koji doesn’t come across as attention-seeking at all. If anything, he’s a bit reserved until he’s comfortable around someone. “I’ll talk to him tonight and see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Ito says, his smile deepening as he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. The movement feels deliberate, like he’s closing some invisible gap between the two of you. “You’ve always struck me as a very attentive parent.”
The compliment lands awkwardly, and you find yourself straightening your back again, instinctively pulling away from his lingering gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Ito,” you say curtly, steering the conversation back to its purpose. “I just want to make sure Koji’s doing well and that his behavior isn’t affecting his classmates.”
“Of course,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “And I’m here to help however I can. We could even set up regular meetings if you’d like, to make sure we stay on the same page about Koji’s progress.”
“That won’t be necessary,” you say, your polite tone edging into firmness. “But I do appreciate the offer.”
His smile falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, leaning back in his chair as though he hadn’t just been testing the waters. “Understood. Please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything. My door is always open.”
You nod, feeling a distinct shift in the atmosphere—one you’re eager to step away from. “Well, are there any other concerns I should know about, Mr. Ito?”
He looks like he wants to say more, but decides against it. “No, Ms. Y/N. None at all, thank you for coming out.”
“Thank you for the coffee, have a nice day.” You reply, wasting no time in standing up, grabbing your drink in one hand and bag in the other. Though, his voice speaking again causes you to stop.
“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Ito’s voice stops you just as you push your chair back. You glance at him over your shoulder, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I really hope I didn’t come across as too forward earlier. I’m just...invested in making sure Koji has everything he needs to thrive.”
You offer a polite smile, settling the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Of course, Mr. Ito. I appreciate that.”
He smiles, but there’s a pause before he continues. “It’s rare, you know, to see a parent as involved as you are. It’s refreshing.”
The compliment makes you pause, and you clutch your coffee cup a little tighter. “Well, Koji’s my world,” you reply simply, brushing off the remark.
“As he should be.” Mr. Ito leans back in his seat, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his own drink. “But I imagine that must get exhausting sometimes, especially since you seem to handle everything on your own.” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, as if he’s inviting you to confide in him.
You blink, his words catching you off guard. Is he fishing for something? “It’s not always easy,” you admit cautiously, “but that’s just part of being a parent.”
“True,” he says with a small nod, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. “Still, you shouldn’t hesitate to lean on the people around you when you need to. It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”
You stiffen slightly, unsure how to interpret his words. They seem innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flickers toward you feels... calculated. “I manage just fine, thank you,” you reply, keeping your tone light but firm.
“Of course,” he says smoothly, raising his hands slightly as if to placate you. “You strike me as someone who handles things with grace. It’s admirable.”
You glance at your watch, eager to end the conversation. “Well, I should get going. I’ll talk to Koji about everything we discussed.”
“Of course.” Mr. Ito stands as you do, his smile as steady as ever. “Thank you again for meeting me. And...if you ever want to talk more, even just about life in general, I’d be happy to listen.”
His words hang in the air for a moment, and you force another polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.”
“I can walk you to your car, I’m heading out as well.” He quickly suggests.
You shake your head almost instantly, smile feeling more narrow. “No need, thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“But I—“
“Thank you again, but I really must go.” You cut him off, feeling your patience run thin and the desire to be cordial and polite stretching too much. You nod stiffly and turn around to briskly walk out the cafe. However, just as you do so, you collide into something, or someone.
Your open-lidded coffee fumbles a bit in your hand, quickly steadying it. Though it does manage to stain the white shirt of the person you just bumped into. Just great. You hold back a wince and apologize. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t—“
Your words leave you, your breath feeling like it’s been stolen straight from your chest. Every hair on your body stands up straight, your heart falling straight to your ass like you’ve just hit the biggest drop on a rollercoaster. You know that feeling when you question if something is real or not, pleading with yourself and every deity watching that it’s not? Well, that’s exactly how you feel right now.
It feels like a spotlight has been shone on you without your consent and you suddenly want to throw up. Because as your eyes have moved up to profusely apologize to the stranger, a bucket of water filled with nostalgia and past memories drowns you.
The bright blue, unmistakable irides stare back down at you. A million memories play on repeat, but one thing’s for certain.
The past has never felt so close, and you suddenly want to erase it all and scream.
a/n: the dreaded reunion is here! thank you for reading and the tremendous support! <3 stay tuned for next chap, sorry if yall thought these two were boring, chapter 3 will be getting more into it
taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts
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