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happy-whumper · 3 years ago

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Meet Nathan Phoenix

Look who finally did some writing again! Not gonna lie, I did feel very much inspired to write my favourite creepy bastard Man again by @painsandconfusion's Whumping the Whumpers series-- 👀 (i hope it's alright I tagged you ajsh)

CW: not a lot of whump tbh?, teeny bit of noncon touching (non sexual), swearing, creepy/intimate(?) whumper, mild reference to torture, female whumpee (i think that's all, if I forgot anything please let me know!)

Someone was watching her.

She could feel their eyes fixated on her.

Observing. Analyzing. Watching.

Every move she made they took notice of, like a hunter watching its prey, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

She knew what it felt like to have people look at her. Curious eyes grazing over her, sometimes hovering a bit too long, a certain curiosity in them before they decided to either move along or stay and stare for a while.

Their expressions ranged from disgust over boredom to sadistic amusement.

They always made her feel like an exhibition, something like a zoo animal, caged and displayed to be stared at for someone else's entertainment.

In her case the comparison was almost morbidly accurate.

The thought almost made Olivia laugh, it would have been an icy sound, trying to find amusement in the bitter irony of her situation.

To be fair, she wasn’t in a literal cage, this time at least.

Out of habit she tugged her hands forward, causing the chains attached to them to rattle faintly, making a quiet hollow sound of metal hitting against metal, the sharp edges of the cuffs rubbing against the already irritated skin on her wrists.

It made her feel nauseous.

Trapped, exposed and helpless.

She hated it.

The handler standing a few feet away from her gave her an irritated look, narrowing his eyes.

He was trying to be intimidating though she could sense that he was on edge. But why?

Generally she could think of a few possible explanations, maybe he was new at the job and nervous because of that, worried about her acting up and not knowing how to deal with that. Maybe there was something in his private life bothering him and he was just waiting for his work day to end to go home.

At that she scoffed, a sudden resentment washing over her, making her clench her jaw tightly.

The idea of someone, who sold other human beings being able to just go home at the end of the day, to a normal life, maybe even a loved one or family, caused a hot wave of anger to course through her.

She and so many others like her had exactly that ripped away from them. Stripped of any sense of normality, safety, dignity.

In an attempt to take away their humanity.

And yet, the people who were doing exactly that to them, they got to live their lives. Be happy and careless. Be bothered by trivial problems like what to make for dinner. If they had forgotten an anniversary. What to wear to a date night or a business meeting.

The more Olivia thought about it, the angrier she got. Almost making her forget the watcher for a moment.

“What’s got you so on edge, hm?” Her voice was quiet, barely containing her anger but with a daring undertone, as she kept her eyes locked on the handler.

At first he didn’t react though she could see his shoulders tensing. Interesting…

“Aw, c’mon, I’m not even getting any reaction? Well that’s quite rude, don’t you think? At least an angry glare or something would have been nice.”

“Shut it, Mutt.”

He still didn’t look at her as he almost hissed the words out, making her chuckle to herself.

“Well someone’s a little sensitive, huh?” No response.

“Alright, if you won’t tell me then I’ll just have to guess. Hm…”, she hummed softly, tilting her head to the side as if in thought, “You don’t seem like a newbie, so that’s not it. Is it me? Do you just not like me?”, no reaction again, prompting Olivia to keep going, “Or...are you trying to impress someone?” At that he tensed again, making her smirk triumphantly.

Ah, there it is.

“I said, shut it.” Although he still wasn’t looking at her, his voice had changed ever so slightly. There was a sense of uneasy anticipation to it. As if he was waiting for something.

Or someone. The question is just who…

“Come on, you can tell me. Is there some big surprise show happening that no one told me about? Oh, is a celebrity coming here to take some nice promo pics or something? #Nofilter or-”

As he abruptly turned towards her, she almost flinched. Almost.

Now he was glaring at her, his jaw tense and his fists clenched beside him. Seems like I struck a nerve there huh…

“I said, be quiet. Trust me, you won’t like the consequences, stupid bitch..” Despite the seriousness in his voice, Olivia couldn’t help but let out a sudden laugh.

“Oh shit, trying to scare me now are you? Well that’s just cute really.” She took a step towards him, leaning forward a bit, causing the previous metallic sound to ring out again. “Let me make something very clear though. You don’t scare me. Not even a little bit, quite frankly, if anything you’re boring at most really.”

A daring grin was now sitting on her lips as she arched a brow.

For just a moment she didn’t feel so powerless anymore. She wasn’t scared of him.

Maybe it wasn’t a lot. But it was a small victory. A part of herself she held onto, no matter what happened, she wasn’t going to lose this defiance. Her own act of rebellion.

But as usual, her triumph wouldn’t last long.

The handler had just taken a step towards her, still angrily glowering at her and for a moment she was sure he might actually hit her.

But then he stopped. Looking at something behind her. His eyes got slightly wider, a look of recognition.

Looks like someone found what he’s been looking for…

Suddenly she could feel it again.

Whoever was approaching now was focused fully on her, she could almost feel their gaze burning into the back of her head.

Everything inside her was screaming at her to just turn around and face whoever was moving towards her. But she didn’t. Instead she resisted the urge, staying still. Not wanting to give in.

Something told her, hidden under the increasing unease that just wanted to see what she was dealing with, that she needed to keep her guard up more now than ever. Despite not being fully certain where it came from, she listened to that intuition. Staying still, almost frozen in place as the confident steps came closer and closer.

Almost absently she registered the handler taking a step back, standing up straighter and putting on a more serious, collected and professional facade. But why now?

“Mr. Phoenix, what a pleasure to see you here!” The handler was smiling at the Man that was still just out of Olivia’s view which didn’t help with easing her nerves. Maybe that was exactly the point, some sort of sick mind or power play. Wouldn’t exactly surprise her.

“Ah, the pleasure’s all mine, really. Hm, it’s been quite a while since I have had the opportunity to come to such an event and I have to say, I missed it.” The man’s voice was smooth, entrancing, almost captivating if you weren’t careful.

He seemed calm, relaxed, as if he had no reason to be tense in any way. In contrast to that she noticed the reaction of the handler, he seemed careful almost, it was clear that whoever this “Mr. Phoenix” was, was someone powerful, someone you wanted to impress and have on your side.

A deep and heavy unease settled over her. Olivia knew that those kinds of people never meant anything good.

They knew about the effect they had on people, how to use their power and influence in their interests, what they could easily get away with.

“Well, we are always quite happy to see you here, considering you're one of our fondest customers.” Kiss ass.

The other man chuckled lightly, seemingly amused though it wasn’t quite clear if he was mocking the handler trying to flatter him. “I do appreciate that. And I am hoping to find something today here indeed…”. Something in his tone changed. It was subtle, almost not noticeable… Interest.

Now it seemed genuine, he wasn’t lying or just making small talk now, he was interested in something or--

Oh.

The moment the realisation hit, Olivia’s whole body tensed. Now that he was closer, it suddenly seemed very likely that it had been him who had been watching her.

The thought made her skin crawl and she barely managed to contain a cold shiver running down her spine.

The urge to somehow try to hide herself was almost overwhelming for a moment, wanting to be nowhere near this new stranger.

But despite the growing nervousness, she pushed it down, instead focusing on her always present anger and hatred.

Who even was this guy, thinking he could just watch her like some sort of sick stalker? Fucking gross… It didn’t matter that he seemed to be some sort of influential or powerful person among those people. He didn’t have any power over her and she would keep it that way. The more she thought about it, the more obvious it became.

That’s what he was doing, trying to gain power over others, with the way he spoke and acted.

The realisation gave her a brief moment of calmness. That was something she could hold onto, fighting back the lingering uncertainty that had been feeding into her anxiety.

Well. Let’s see what you got, asshole.

While she had been lost in her own thoughts, the conversation between the two men had continued on, she only managed to catch the last part of the handlers sentence.

“-what you’re looking for.”

“Oh yes, I have no doubts there..Actually, I was quite interested in this one right here.”

As the man stepped in her view, Olivia had to once again resist the urge to step backwards. Her first impression was also reflected in what she was seeing now. He had his hands in the pockets of his pants, they were a mix of casual and more elaborated, which seemed to match up with the way most of the other people in the room were dressed as well. His dark blonde hair looked almost effortlessly styled, as if he wanted people to see that he didn’t need to bother with such things but still wanted to look good, playing into a more relaxed appearance.

But none of those things was what really caught her attention.

The thing that immediately stood out was his eyes. It wasn’t the blue, almost grey-ish colour, although it did have something almost alluring about it.

No, it was what she could see behind them that made her skin crawl. There was a sort of sadistic hunger that reminded her of a predator that was about to strike its prey.

The way he was looking at her, towering over her...for just a moment it made her feel utterly helpless. Small. Completely at his mercy.

But the moment passed and she collected herself again, looking the man in front of her up and down. Clicking her tongue lightly in a more unimpressed way, she shook her head. “Hm...That’s what you were so jumpy about? I gotta say, I am a little disappointed now, I expected something a bit more..impressive.”

The handler was glaring at her again but the man standing in front of her just...laughed. That wasn’t what she had expected, the sudden sound causing the hair on her arms to stand up.

“Ah, we got a feisty one here, huh? Intriguing.”

Olivia just scoffed at that, rolling her eyes at him. “Pff, looks to me like I got a prime example of a rich, disgusting asshole here.”

The man next to her seemed even more pissed off now, seemingly barely keeping back from hitting her or worse but just as he was about to step towards her, the man introduced as Mr. Phoenix put up his hand, immediately stopping the other.

He was still smiling, not a hint of annoyance or irritation. For some reason that only pissed Olivia off even more.

As he took a step closer, she automatically felt her body tense, once again fighting the urge to back up, trying to ignore her quickening heartbeat. Geez that guy is obnoxious...

When he suddenly leaned forward, firmly taking her chin between his fingers, she couldn’t stop herself from flinching away.

Immediately registering the smug and satisfied grin on the man’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The words were hissed through clenched teeth as Olivia tried to pull away from him in an attempt to free herself from his grip. Of course with no success. Typical.

If anything the man looked just more amused by her struggle as he tightened his grip, causing a painful pressure on her jaw to set in.

“Such a pretty little thing…”, he cooed at her, making a deep feeling of disgust settle in her stomach, “You know...that’s always my favourite, pretty but with a little fire in them. Those are always the most fun. Always so stubborn at first, so sure you won’t give in...” He smiled. It was cruel and dark, matching the sadistic glim in his eyes. “I’m sure you would look so pretty bleeding for me. Crying and begging for me to finally make the pain stop…”

His words caused an icy chill to run down her spin, her mouth feeling completely dried out. She wanted to look away but she felt completely paralyzed, unable to pull herself away from his gaze, his words cutting in her consciousness and getting stuck there, infecting everything with a deep, cold fear.

And he knew that. Very well.

Olivia could see it in the way he was still watching her. Looking for any type of weakness, fear, taking it all in for his own, sick amusement. She had seen people like him before. Knew that look all too well.

But this time it was different. She couldn’t quite place it. There was something in his eyes, almost bloodthirsty, not even the smallest hint of compassion or mercy.

But he was just messing with her. As soon as he was done having his fun he would just move on and find someone else to demonstrate his power on.

It made her feel almost relieved for a moment but that was quickly crushed by a sharp guilt.

How could she be relieved at the thought of him doing that to anyone else?

She pushed the thoughts down, she couldn’t afford them right now.

After another moment he finally dropped his hand, taking a step back with a pleased smirk, tilting his head to the side.

He was going to move on and just leave her alone, he had to.

Right?

“You done starring yet?!” The words were out faster than Olivia could even fully think them through, her voice pressed with anger though she noticed the slight unease still sticking to it.

The man just laughed at that again. “Actually...No, not quite.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean now?”

“Oh don’t worry your pretty little head about it princess, you’ll see soon enough.”

She cringed at the name, narrowing her eyes while still glaring at him. “If you call me that ever again-”

“Then what? Hm? What are you going to do about it, princess?”, he let out an amused chuckle, “You know what, I can’t wait to find out actually.”

What the hell is he talking about?

After a moment he turned to the handler again, Olivia had almost completely forgotten about him until that point.

For just a second she allowed herself to take a breath. Let herself calm down. Brace herself for whatever would come next.

She had no idea how grateful she would be for that in just another moment.

“Well, what’s your price?”

“What?”

No. No, he can’t..he can’t actually be fucking serious right now!

“I assume she’s still for sale, is she not..? But in that case, I’m sure I can make a better offer anyway.” He smirked, glancing over at her, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“Oh no, uh she, she is! Just uhm...Well to be honest I wasn’t really expecting you to take an interest in such a bratty thing is all…”

Nathan chuckled darkly, tilting his head to the side a bit with a cruel smile spreading over his face. “Let me assure you, I honestly prefer it when they have a bit of fire left in them, makes it so much more enjoyable when they do eventually break.” He was talking to the handler but his eyes were fixated on Olivia, making it very clear who the message was for.

“And they all do, no matter how stubborn or ‘strong’, they all break down sooner or later. Everyone has their weak spots, their breaking point. And honestly...I can’t wait to see how beautiful she’ll be when she breaks for me.” Taglist: @starnight-whump @jordanstrophe @froggywhumpy@whumpasaurus101 @as-a-matter-of-whump @jojothepanwithoutaplan @myst-in-the-mirror @whumpsweetwhump @darklyria @screechingqueenmentality (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years ago

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notoriously yours | jay park

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Jay Park is a rich kid.

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

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

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

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

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

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

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

They're doing anything but studying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

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

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

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

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

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

You love your friends, you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For the most part.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Been there, done that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

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

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

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

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

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

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

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

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"--desperate? Yeah."

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

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

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

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

Jay hates that you're right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait, Y/N!"

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

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

You nearly stop breathing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh, then nod.

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

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

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

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

Great.

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

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

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

Bingo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"3,2,1."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the next.

~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

Weird.

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

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

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

He wonders why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

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

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

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

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

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

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

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

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

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

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

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

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

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

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

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

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

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

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Penny for your thoughts?"

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

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

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

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

Oh. Awkward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you knew where he was coming from.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh? Calling what off?"

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

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

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi."

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

Silence.

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

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

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

Fuck it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm, and what's that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

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

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

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

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

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

What's One More?

WC: 3204

Rated: M

Tags: brief mentions of crime/mental illness/child abuse and neglect/substance addiction/theft, fluff, family dynamics, mentions of aging, mentions of difficult pregnancy, softness, anxiety attack

🧠

The harsh vibrating of a phone on the nightstand breaks your slumber. Still half asleep you toss your arm back to thump against your sleeping husband's side. With a groan he answers. You try to settle back into your pillow and the warmth of the blanket. Whoever has the balls to call at this hour has another thing coming - but later because your priority is going back to sleep.

He can't have been on the call more than fifteen seconds before he sits up in bed suddenly, turning on the bedside lamp; his movements grab your attention. You roll over. The light blinds you and you rub at your eyes to adjust. You can't make out what's being said. Looking at the clock to see that it's barely 4 am you know something bad has happened. Quietly you slip out from the covers.

Making your way down the hall you peek into your daughter's room, grateful that she's still fast asleep. Her soft snores punctuate the calm. Your nerves abate knowing she’s safe. By the time you get back to the bedroom Laszlo is up and getting dressed. "What's going on?"

He doesn't answer at first. You wait until he's finished buttoning his shirt to ask again. "Sara was called to consult on a triple homicide case - she's asked for me to come down to the police station. I don't know much yet, but it's something involving a young boy and she wants me to speak with him."

“Did he…?”

“No. He was not directly involved, that much we know.”

You nod, leaning against the door frame. This wasn't the first time that Laszlo had been called in by law enforcement and social services to assist with children and teens that needed psychological help. He had become more active around the time you graduated with your doctorate. After Sophia was born Laszlo helped fund an after school program for kids that focused on support for mental health and behavioral issues. He was so passionate about being able to help these kids. But it was never at this ungodly hour. "You'll call or something when you know what's up?" you ask through a yawn.

"Of course, Bärchen." He gives you a chaste peck. Gently he guides you back towards your bed and sits you down. "Go back to sleep, there's no need to worry. I love you." With that he left.

Your sleep is fitful with him gone. You worry over things that you aren't even aware of, over who is hurt, over how severe a situation it could be to have been called in the middle of the night, over the poor boy that needs Laszlo’s help. When your daughter tiptoes into the room around 6 you welcome her into the bed with open arms.

"Why are you up, baby bug?"

"Where's Papa?" She climbs up on his side of the bed and rubs his cold pillow. On her face is a deep frown.

"He had to go help some very important people early this morning. He'll be back to see you soon, I promise."

"I miss him. He always helps me with my shoes."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face. "I know, baby. But it's still early so let's take a nap before we have to get ready, hmm?" The two of you snuggle under the covers. With her curled into your side you do find rest, even for the short time before your alarm chimes.

The day moves sluggish as you wait for word from your husband. Little work was to be done today at the museum, so there wasn't much to keep your mind off the wondering. You considered calling. You considered texting. But you knew that when the time was right he would let you know. No news is good news, you think.

Finally the day came to a close. You picked up Sophia and stopped by the store on the way home to grab supplies for dinner. She insisted that she carry one of the bags inside - little miss independent that she was. “Careful not to drop it, okay? Use those muscles of yours to hold the bag tight.”

“Mama I know, I help Papa carry all the time,” she explains matter-of-factly.

The townhouse is quiet as you begin to unpack. You do a quick glance into the dining room and parlor to no avail. "Laz, honey? You home?" A few seconds later you hear movement from the stairs.

Your husband rounds the corner into the kitchen, swooping down to scoop your daughter into his left arm, peppering her face in exaggerated smooches. Her giggles light up the room from the dim atmosphere. He perches her on his hip. “How was your day my little dove?”

“So good Papa - I practiced my counting today at school. I can get the biggest in the class! Mommy said I must be the most smartest," she prattles on.

“Wunderbar!” he praises her before turning to you. “I didn't hear you come in." Laszlo kisses you.

Pinning him with a look you say "you also didn't call me today? You said you would and I've been worried all day."

Sophia crosses her arms and harrumphs from her father's hip; "me too Papa." He quirks an eyebrow at her before speaking.

"Yes… there is something I wished to speak with you on but didn't think it was suitable for the phone." You raise your own brows but continue to put away groceries. "I do not wish to discuss certain aspects of the case in present company-" he nods towards Sophia minutely "-but we do have a houseguest for the foreseeable future."

"Oh?" Your brows dip in confusion. This is not what you were expecting.

Laszlo peeks around the doorway and calls out "Stevie, would you come join us in the kitchen please."

Stevie? You don't know a Stevie...

A moment later a lanky boy with scruffy dark blond hair shuffles into the room. He can't be anymore than 15. His clothes are too big on him and his shoes are worn beyond belief; nevertheless he gives you a slight smile. “This is Stevie Taggert, he’s going to be staying here with us in the guest room for now.”

“Good evening Mrs. Kreizler,” the boy says nervously, his voice cracking.

You spare a look at your husband before turning to the teenager with a smile. “Ah, no need for that, kid. You can just call me by my name instead. And welcome to our home. You like spaghetti?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Awesome! And I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am,” you give him a wink. You set up a pot to boil the water for the pasta. Laszlo excused himself to spend some time with Sophia, leaving you and Stevie in the kitchen.

He clears his throat behind you. “Would um… is there anything I can do to help?”

"I would love that, thank you."

The two of you get to work on making dinner. Stevie doesn’t say too much, but he is very polite and does his best to be useful. Once the food is nearly finished your family has returned ready to eat. You send Stevie and Sophia to set the table.

“Should I be worried?” you ask Laszlo quietly, watching the doorway the two left through.

“I don’t think so. I just felt that I would rather he have a familiar face to adjust with instead of being placed in a group home like many end up.”

You study his face. “You’ve taken a liking to him haven’t you?”

“Well…" his face reddens at your question. "He reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age.” The conversation is cut short by the kids returning.

The rest of dinner and the evening goes smoothly. You make it a point to not bring up any questions that could trigger the teenager, especially before you’ve spoken with Laszlo about the situation at hand. When Stevie nearly eats his weight in pasta you say nothing, wondering how long it's been since he's had a good home cooked meal. He insists on helping clean up the dishes afterwards. Without even knowing what the boy has gone through your heart aches for him.

You set him up in the small renovated basement downstairs while Laszlo puts Sophia to bed. Handing him one of your husband’s old Harvard t-shirts to sleep in you tell him “I’m sorry you’ll be down here by yourself, but if you need us for anything don’t be afraid to come get us - no matter what time it is, okay? And if you get cold there’s an extra blanket right here for you. I know it's July but….” you shrug. “Tomorrow after I get home from work we can go to the store and get you some stuff to use, some more clothes, that kinda thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” At the teasing look you give him his ears burn red with his mumbled “right sorry.”

“Alright Stevie. We’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Laszlo is in bed reading when you enter the room. Nothing is said as you ready yourself for bed. Slipping under the covers you face him. He sighs and closes his book.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I became caught up in the day and only arrived home with Stevie maybe half an hour before you did.” He sighs a second time. “Most of the case I cannot talk about, but what I can say is he was living with his mentally ill father, whom was also an addict. He missed the last few weeks of the school year and has been regularly stealing food to get by. He has no other family. I just… it didn’t feel right to let him process his experiences away from someone properly trained to deal with these sorts of things, in addition to how traumatic entering foster care at his age can be. I spoke with those in social services and was granted temporary custody until we find another more permanent solution.”

“Of course.”

He takes hold of your hand. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“I mean it would’ve been nice to have a bit more warning… but I get it. He can stay as long as he needs to. He’s a sweet kid,” you reassure him. “I told him that I would take him shopping after work tomorrow, so if you could pick up Soph from preschool that would be great.”

“Perhaps instead we can all go? I was thinking that I would bring him to the university with me so that he’s not alone all day. You could get her and then we could meet somewhere, get dinner afterwards?”

You lean closer to him to curl around his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. He always thought so much about others, especially children. Laszlo had such a heart of gold and it honestly left you in awe of just how much he was willing to give so that others could find peace and happiness. Like the older he got the more he had to give. The thought warms you. “How are you literally the best person I know? And to think you used to be so worried about being able to be a good father and now you’re the best of all of us.” He huffs a little as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I have you to thank for that, Bärchen.” He drops a kiss to your head. “But it’s getting late and I’ve been up all day. We should get some sleep.”

Soon after you're both dreaming.

___

Stevie had been with you for three weeks. It only took him a few days to start to settle in, and you discovered that he was quick with his wit and far smarter than he let on. He was a little bit of a sarcastic smart-ass at times, but all in good nature. He was endlessly entertaining. Laszlo sat down with him almost everyday to talk about what he was feeling, the things he experienced, and ways to deal with the loss of his family. Already you both saw improvement.

Even Sophia got on well with him. Most teenage boys wanted nothing to do with little kids, let alone a 4 year old that loved playing 'spaceship barbie'. But not Stevie. On his fifth day you'd found him sat on the floor playing with her and going along with her childlike imagination. When she insisted he play the barbie that needed saving he went along with it, high pitched voice and everything. He even encouraged her to pick up her toys before bed - a feat you and your husband struggled with at times. It struck you how much Stevie became a big brother of sorts to her.

Laszlo grew even more fond of the boy. He wasn't really one for TV, but every evening he sat and watched some show on Netflix about racing with the teen and didn't complain once. Laszlo had tried to explain the role of adrenaline in racing drivers as a psychological function, but Stevie just brushed it off and said it was the driving so fast that made it "cool".

The two did bond over an unlikely subject - punk rock. When you got home from work two weeks into his stay and heard the music blasting in the parlor you worried someone had broken in. Whipping into the room you saw Laszlo in his chair tapping his foot to the intense guitar and singing; Stevie nodded along to the music as he held an old album cover. It didn't take long for Sophia to start jumping along to the music too.

"What is this?" You yelled out over the bass - you couldn't recognize it and it clearly wasn't English.

"Die Toten Hosen, a band I listened to growing up in Germany. Stevie found the record and asked to listen."

"Listen? I think you mean blow out your eardrums!" Even with needing to shout to be heard you had to laugh at the situation. How your husband had a secret love for German punk you'll never know; yet you would never let him live it down.

And when Stevie came and woke you both up in tears three nights ago you made him hot chocolate while Laszlo sat down with him. He confessed that he had never been treated or cared for like he was in your home. How he wished he could stay because he felt wanted. Your heart broke for the boy. To be so young and so lost, craving someone to simply be there for him.

Yet everyday he grew more open. He broke out of his shell. He had goals and ambitions; he wanted to amount to something bigger than he had thought he ever could. It almost shocked you at how much fire was within him.

At how much he fit in with your little family.

At how it was like he was meant to be there.

___

Laszlo was oddly quiet when you got home. Sophia had run off to find Stevie, and you tracked your husband down to his office. He listened as you talked about your day for a good ten minutes; he said almost nothing the whole conversation.

You move closer to him. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead you check to see if he's feverish or sick. He didn't feel warm. "Laz, are you feeling okay?"

He gently pulls your hand down and leaves a kiss on your palm. "The department of social services called this morning to inquire about what we want to do with Stevie. This would be the third time they have asked."

He hadn't mentioned it to you at all that they were calling already. "Okay. What do you think we should do?" You pause for him to continue.

"I told them I would need to speak with you before any further decisions were made regarding him…" His fingers tap against the wood of his desk. "I'm not sure I have an answer for them. Nor for you." He swallows. "I'm afraid of what might become of him should he go into the system. Or that he will not get the support he needs given his past. Any option involving allowing him to stay for a bit longer is a commitment I won't make without your full support, of course. I could never ask that of you." As he speaks you can hear the frustration pouring from him, feel the irritation radiating through the room. "I refuse to give up on him- I- I just don't have the answers on what to do without them hounding me and he deserves better than this, dammit."

"He does… Do you remember on your 50th birthday, what you told me?" Laszlo looks up at you confused. "You said that you had wished you were ten years younger so you had the energy and time to do all of it again. That if you were younger we would've had a whole gaggle of kids - brothers and sisters for Sophia."

"Wishing I was younger doesn't make a difference in helping Stevie-"

"Laszlo - let's adopt him." Your words stop him in his tracks. You had decided not to have any more after your daughter was born. Laszlo was nearing 50 and the pregnancy had been hard on you. But regardless you knew that you both had the means and the love to give another child, probably five or ten more children if you really wanted to. So why not start with one that's already wormed his way in to the family? "I've seen how fond you are of him already. You've taken him under your wing as if he was your own. And how good he is with Sophia? Hell I couldn't ask for a better older sibling for her - and she loves him already. And honestly, Laz, I do too."

"You think we should adopt Stevie?"

"I think we should ask, yeah. He deserves a good home and a strong father figure that's going to put him first. He looks at you like you hung the stars, Laszlo. He needs us, and truthfully I think we need him. So yeah - what's one more added to this little shindig we've got going for us?"

"Have you-"

"-thought it through? Yes. Completely."

You can see the smile he fights to hold back. "We should call tomorrow and see what the protocol is for stating our intent to adopt and getting the paperwork."

"Um…" You shuffle your feet. Nose scrunched, you confess "I may have already called them. On the way from work I asked about what would need to be done if we wanted to pursue that route, but since they already know who we are from you working with them for years it can be fast tracked." You pull him out of his chair to stand before you. "All we have to do is say 'go'."

He has no hesitation.

"Go."

Laszlo doesn't hold back his smile or his laughter as he spins you around his office floor. You're certain your children downstairs can hear your giggles.

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loveafterthefact · 3 years ago

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 80: Pulled From Orbit

As two empires threaten to fall, Lance and Keith part ways

Hot Take: the paladin armor actually kinda sucks and my children deserve better

First Previous Next

Despite his insistence that Keith act like, well, like someone who is pregnant, Lance is not at all surprised when the Galra pulls a Marmoran suit of armor out of the bottom of his old chest from Daibazaal. He doesn’t even protest. He’ll take anything at this point.

“Listen to me.” Lance comes up behind him as he finishes dressing, gently draws the gold and amber comb from Keith’s hair, replacing it with a set of black pins. BleepBloop watches from the ladder to the loft. “Whatever happens next, I love you, and I love your people, too.”

“What happens if we must choose between your people and mine?”

Lance inhales sharply, gripping Keith’s shoulders tight. “Raze the current rule to the ground and start our own allied regime?”

Keith works up a smile. “Yes, let’s. You can rule by my side. I’ll allow it.”

Lance doesn't manage a smile, but his eyes soften for a moment, that warrior's gaze faltering in a surge of fondness.

Keith eyes their profile in the mirror, watches Lance’s hands travel down to his fingertips, up to his waist as he lays his scaled cheek on his shoulder. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in armor, the first time their sharpest edges are in bold.

Lance’s armor is as fine as anything, white metal inlaid with his token deep, bright blue. A breastplate, greaves and boots, bracers, all made of metal plates. Instead of a plackart, cuisses, and other minor plates, Lance has scale and fine mail, and Keith notices that the pauldrons are made of many small, reinforced plates to allow more flexibility in the shoulders. More than suitable for someone with a mixed fighting style. And, of course, beneath all that is a flight suit, air tight and climate controlled the moment Lance’ helmet locks into place.

The contrast, the incongruity between them has never been more apparent, Keith’s dark, minimalist armor casting a shadow over his mate's starbright form. Lance is armed like a hero, and Keith looks like a thief in the night. He’s okay with that, happy to be underestimated. A small man with a knife and a secret skillset is far more dangerous than a big man with a large sword. The growing wolf at his side only adds to their disparity.

He is Lance’s thorn, his last resort.

“Your Majesties.” Adam steps into the room, face grim. “King Alfor has summoned you to the Situation Room.”

Keith nods, clasps Lance’s hand, laces their fingers together. He will have to let go far too soon for his liking. The Altean prince snatches up his helmet, rushing after Adam, wolf at their heels.

The situation room is dark, lit only by a large, round holotable and the pale blue accent lights on peoples' armor. There are screens hovering over the table, lit up with interfaces, statistics, and control panels. Alfor is waiting for them. All of the lines in his face are chasms, his eyes glowing a dim, pale blue. It strikes Keith suddenly how washed out Alfor’s quintessence is, how little person is in the man. He wonders who the king might have been, had he been allowed.

“Boys. I know you expect to be sent away, lives preserved. But I offer you the option to stay, and act as leaders in my stead. Of all the things I have prepared for, I am not prepared for this.”

“Neither are we,” Lance confesses. Keith grips his hand tighter, trying to regulate himself. He can’t afford to lose it now. “But I will stay, and do what I can.”

Silence, only for a moment, before Keith realizes that they’re waiting for him. “My place is here, with our peoples. It always has been.”

Alfor nods. “Tell us what you know.”

Keith’s eyes finally register other faces, Iverson, glaring at him. Griffin, surprisingly not glaring at him. “We received a message from my mother. She says that the Imperial Compound is under attack, and that rebel forces are heading for Altea.”

“You don’t seem very surprised.” Iverson’s tone is more than a little accusing. Some of the other high-ranking military members seem to share his disposition. Keith ignored them. He's used to the prejudice by now, and there are more pressing concerns.

“We’ve been aware of unrest on Daibazaal for some time. Weight discrepancies in shipping containers, people going missing, a sudden increase in deserters. Emperor Zarkon dismissed said deserters, saying that it was to be expected following the unwelcome alliance with Altea. It’s unclear if he knows anything about the shipping containers.”

“So the emperor’s allegiances are unclear?” Griffin asks.

“Yes,” Lance sighs. “As are Honerva’s.”

Pidge’s face appears on screen. “Hey, I have something to contribute to that. Not that I’ve been eavesdropping or anything.”

“What do you have for us, Pidge?” Alfor leans on the holotable, gaze severe.

“So remember how Lotor helped me hack into his medical records for reasons?”

“Yeeees?” Lance frowns, not sure he wants to have this conversation with everyone else in the room. But it’s hardly the time for tiptoeing. “Why? What did you find?”

“Turns out Honerva’s been experimenting on Lotor his entire life. See, as a result of his hybrid status -at least, that’s what I’m assuming- Lotor can only absorb quintessence, not redistribute it. It looks like Honerva was trying to artificially recreate that power. She keeps referencing this… thing. The Komar Experiment-”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Keith mutters. Under everyone’s gaze, Keith takes a steadying breath. He’s starting to feel queasy, like adrenaline or simply time has cut through the antinausea medication. He strokes Wolf's head with his free hand. “The word ‘Komar’ doesn’t directly translate into Common or Altean, but it means, ‘large breath that takes’. It um, it’s like the first breath a baby takes, or like after you break the surface of water after near drowning. It’s Galran folklore that-” He swallows saliva, skin feeling hot. “-that when someone takes a lifegiving breath, another life ends.”

Adam slips something into his palm: a small pill. He dry swallows quickly, in the wake of what he’s just suggested.

“Are you implying,” Iverson growls. “That Honerva experimented on her son in order to invent some device that absorbs quintessence?”

Alfor falls into a chair, eyes glassy. “Honerva is perhaps the greatest inventor I have ever known. Lotor is thirty-two years old. She’s had more than enough time if this is what she’s been up to.”

"Her notes are... specific. Lotor has been surprisingly unattached to his parents, despite his Galra blood," Pidge murmurs. "I would not be surprised if it's a result of the invasive procedures he was subjected to in infancy. Trauma he doesn't even remember. Honerva would put him in situations with the intention to cause distress in order to activate him limited alchemical abilities so she could study him. She would neglect, frighten, and even harm him in order to get the desired reaction."

“And that's horrible. Truly. But we don’t know that’s what she’s up to right now,” Lance cuts in. “What we do know, is that the Imperial Compound is under attack, meaning that these attackers staging a coup. If they succeed, they’ll come for us next. According to our sources, ships are already on their way here.”

“So we have a planet to defend, a coup to stop, a prince, princess, and consort to rescue, and possibly a horrifying weapon of unknown size to find and destroy. One that could, for all we know, be capable of draining our entire planet and others,” Griffin summarized. “How the quiznak do we do this?”

Silence. Keith takes in a deep, slightly-less-nauseous breath. “We split up. Lance will go to Daibazaal, rally the citizens, and take Daibazaal back from the rebels. I will stay here, and lead the defense.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Griffin mutters.

“No, he’s right. Lance will go to Daibazaal, and I will go with him. We will determine who is in the right, and join their side. He and I will rally the civilians, form a small team, and find a way to infiltrate the Compound.” Alfor gets to his feet. “Keith, rally your men. Defend this planet, and its people. But if we should fall, you are to escape by any means necessary. Do you understand?”

Keith can feel the eyes of everyone in the room, soldiers, analysts, Adam, Lance. Waiting for his answer, putting two and two together, realizing exactly what’s at stake.

“I understand. My life, by any means necessary.”

“I will stay with him, and watch his back,” Adam declares.

Keith nods, turns to Griffin. “The battalion will meet in the courtyard. They have three dobashes to form up.”

“They already are,” the aubergine-scaled Altean says, dark blue eyes hard. “We are ready, and await your orders.”

Keith nods. “Have someone ready a ship. We’re putting King Alfor and Crown Prince Lancel on the ground in Daibazaal, just outside the Compound. Lance, rally the people, follow their lead. Trust them to know which side to be on. They want peace, just as we do.”

“I know, beloved.” Lance squeezes his hand. Keith hadn’t realized he was still holding it. The Altean heaves in a great breath, forces a smile. “Will you come see me off?”

“Nothing short of death would stop me,” Keith promises.

The royals and their entourage sprint through the halls toward the courtyard where a small craft shaped like an arrowhead is already waiting. Alfor climbs right in, datapad in hand. Lance lets go of Keith’s hand, ready to board. He pulls Adam into a brief, strong hug. “Take care of yourself, and him.”

“Always, your Majesty.”

Keith notices a dangerous shine in the attendant’s eye, a kind of terror he himself is feeling. He says nothing, not even as he watches Adam’s body tremble. Adam is fearful, but ready. No matter what lies ahead.

Keith is not ready. He snatches at Lance’s arm, fingers pressing into the armor of his suit. Those blue and pink eyes he loves so much find his immediately, strangely open, ready to see anything and everything all at once.

Lance’s face is not without fear, body humming with quintessence, red and blue hovering over his form, shimmering in his eyes. The prince smiles, paper-thin. He removes his circlet, hands it to Keith. “I won’t need this where I’m going.”

Keith tosses the circlet aside, where it skitters over the ground. He pulls Lance to him, kisses him soundly, fingers in white hair, sliding over the scale at Lance’s waist. A single twist of their tongues, all they have time for, and he pulls away, noses touching.

“No matter what, I am so, so proud of you. I am proud to be your mate… Please-” He gulps. “Please come home to me, if you can.”

“Beloved…” Lance presses their foreheads together, brushes thumbs over Keith’s cheekbones. “Not even death could keep me away.”

Keith takes in one last deep breath, rubs his cheek into the gloved palm of Lance’s hand, a very subtle way of letting the other Galra know this man is his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Lance pulls away, eyes not leaving Keith’s face for a long moment. Then he leans up, whispers in Keith’s ear, “You, and little one. With all my heart.”

And maybe Keith knows that’s not true, that if it came down to him or Atlea, Lance would choose Altea. But Keith would make him, agree with him, even though he knows it would break Lance to do it.

The prince puts on a crooked smile, kisses Keith’s cheek one last time before he puts on his helmet and turns away, following his father into the craft.

Keith watches as they lift off, just until they’re out of sight, before he turns to Griffin. “You’re going to follow my orders, and you’re going to like it, or you’re going to get the fuck out of my way, understood?”

Griffin nods, letting his visor drop down over his face. Iverson just sighs. “What’s our move then?”

“Order the civilians to go into lockdown. Any former or current soldiers who have a weapon should stand by in case of attack. Send a runner into the lowlands. Then we assign pilots to the MFE crafts. I want a squadron, broken into four flights of six. Initiate land defense and mobilize drones-”

A screeching flare of light, and a tower at the corner of the courtyard explodes.

“Brace yourselves.” Keith’s eyes find a pinprick in the swath of blue sky. He pulls his hood up, mask sliding down to cover his face, sealing his suit. “This will not be an easy fight.”

“We stand with you,” Adam murmurs, taking a polearm from a passing soldier. Each end is armed with a wicked, barbed glaive.

Keith draws his knife, feeling the blade shift in his hand. He doesn’t know who these people are -hopefully- but he will rip apart every last one of them.

Whatever it takes.

Lance stares out the front window, despairing at the sight before him. An armada of Galra ships, painted with strange symbols.

“Can you read that?” Alfor murmurs, clearly putting a lot of faith in their cloaking technology.

“It says, ‘The Fire of Purification’.”

“Oh, wonderful. We’re dealing with elitist thugs. My absolute favorite,” the king growls. Lance licks his lips, apprehensive. “Here, I want you to have this.”

Lance stares at the strange weapon his father is offering him. White, black, and his own special shade of blue, the weapon seems like two halves of a hand guard with a handle in between. “What is it?”

“I call it a bayard. It will shift into whatever you need it to, whenever you need it, and is absorbed and stored in your armor just like your shield.” Alfor inhales, holds his breath until they’ve slipped past the armada. “It will serve you well. You won’t waste time juggling weapons.”

A stretch of silence, and Alfor murmurs, "I wanted to wish you happy birthday earlier. I have an actual gift for you, if we ever get the chance."

Lance nods, drops his sword, bow and quiver, knowing he might never see any of them again. “Did you- Have you called Dad?”

“I sent him a message… He sends his love.”

“Just a message?” Lance asks. “That’s- That’s all you need? That’s all you’re giving him?”

The king takes a deep breath. “Your dad… He’s been prepared for anything for a very long time. Whatever happens this quintant, he is ready for it.”

Lance finds himself a bit envious of that, that his parents have had centaphoebs together to reconcile with what it means to be part of a colonialist empire. Of what it means to be a warring planet. Even if they’d started the day they met, he and Keith would not have been prepared. They haven't even been married haven't known each other a full decaphoeb.

Down on the ground, Lance can see fire, people running, rubble in the streets. Whoever the aggressor is, it’s clear that they are his enemy. He gives his bayard blade a good swing, flips the blade in his hand, only for it to morph into a bow in his hand, and arrow made of light already knocked.

“Father? Are you ready for this?”

“I’m about to go to Daibazaal to rescue them from an apparently elitist regime and possibly kill my only surviving friend. I am not at all ready for this.” The ship enters the atmosphere in a blaze of heat, effectively giving them away as they look for a place to land. “Are you ready?”

Lance gulps. “No. I know these people. I broke bread with these people. I defended them from a monster, I’ve watched their children, cooked them food. And now, I might be about to kill them.”

“And somewhere down there,” Alfor murmurs, searching for a place to land, “is a Galra thinking the same thing about their kin, and possibly about you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“It wasn’t meant to.” Their craft begins losing altitude. “It doesn’t matter what happens next, son. We all lose today.”

That much, Lance thinks as the craft settles just outside of town, is very true.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #Voltron legendary defender #vld

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fairytsuk1 · 5 years ago

Text

trainwreck | part one.

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

genre: fluff <3

warning: none! swearing lmao

words: 1,670

summary: your train is late and your eye just wont drift away from a certain explosive blond

a/n: cute shit for my baby <3

His body language is the first telling sign that this handsome stranger must be pissed. It was only a glance at first, which delved into two. Then about five minutes later you were peeking above your book to really see this person making you chuckle under your breath.

His sagging pants made a laugh bubble in your chest and the disheveled dress shirt just made him look...droopy. He was droopy and just looked weird. Sort of like he tumbled out of a tornado and randomly decided to go to school. You looked back down at your book and skimmed over the neglected words, a fantasy novel that was definitely a copy of a copy of witches and magic and the same stereotypical tropes. Who needed fantasy books anyways? At this day and age, everyone having quirks made everyday life like a superhero fantasy movie.

His arms cross again and he rolls his neck around. Oh, you were staring again. You dog-eared your page and shut your book, you were way more interested in this “character” standing right in front of you! A ringing noise sounds through the station and a sharp head turn makes you very aware of why this man was so troubled.

The train to Kokoshi Prefecture was late. Very late. So late in fact, you’d have to be a track star to make it to your class on time. Had you really missed the delay announcement? What had even happened? Hell, you wouldn’t have minded a thirty minute delay, school isn’t too terribly interesting. But an hour? That’s absolutely ridiculous! Who’s manning this station?!

“...Are you fucking kidding me?” A snapping sound similar to the cracking of knuckles with a mixture of popping balloons was barely heard over the rickety station ambience. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

You and this stranger shared the same sentiment. You didn’t even realize you were mean-mugging the digital sign until you turned and saw your reflection in the coffee-colored glass of a work booth. The man inside said booth raised an eyebrow at you and a hot flush of shame washed over you. The angel on you shoulder prays he didn’t take it personally. The devil wants you to strangle the man. The station was nearly empty at this hour, most of the people here were students as well. Either texting or napping, everyone had the same displeased expression. Now you wished you had just gotten a coffee like you had wanted to twenty minutes ago, the boost of energy would’ve been nice as a yawn overtakes you. Staying up late was definitely taking its toll on your body, knees weakening during the yawn.

“You going to Kokoshi too?”

“Huh?”

Closing your mouth, you stupidly looked up at the boy and let the first word you thought of run out your mouth. Huh. He tilted his head and the gritty train tiles could have swallowed you whole without complaints.

“I asked if you were going to Kokoshi Prefecture. You know, on the train that’s one hour late?,” he casted a mean look at the station worker, the man through the glass turning in his chair to disguise the fact he was most definitely not working, “I was just asking ‘cause you’re...y’know, wearing a uniform and everything. Nevermind.”

Rejection. He looked like he was mad and a little embarrassed too. He thought your silence meant rejection. Shit!!

“No, ah, I’m taking the Kokoshi train too! But I was just confused because you didn’t seem like the type to strike up conversation…,” he looked at you plainly. Did you just offend him? “Oh! Well I didn’t mean it like that!! I just meant ‘cause you seemed so wrapped up in your uh...energy that I didn’t think you were gonna come over or at the very least…”

Rather than hearing a scoff or even a swear shouted your way, he barked out a laugh and turned his head sideways. He laughed. He laughed!

“So you were watching me? Stalker. Yeah I’m pissed off! U.A.’s gonna have my ass but how else can I get to school, I thought the train’d be faster. Turns out it’s the exact fucking opposite…”

Popping sounds came from the ground and you became distinctly aware of the burnt caramel smell. You took a quick look down and instinctively took a step back, explosions?! From. His. Hands. Wow, whatta quirk! And did he say U.A.?! Wow, he was basically a pro hero in the making!

“I know what you mean! I mean, I don’t go to your big fancy school or anything but my campus is huge! Now, I might as well not even go...So are you like a hero yet? Well what about your year? How old are you?”

Please don’t be a third year and about to graduate!

He almost looked flustered, the tinge of pink in his cheeks could’ve been from anything on his smooth cheeks, but the deep redness at the tops of his ears told you all you needed to know. His eyes flitted down, you had definitely gotten closer from the excitement of talking to a cute boy, if you used your quirk a bit more, you might have even noticed if he focused on your assets or not!

“I-Uh-A first year. And don’t you know how being a hero works? You gotta get a provisional license first! Then you can blow up as many villains as you want!...What’s your quirk anyways? You’re way too excited this early in the morning.”

Katsuki felt weird, his chest felt warm and he could distinctly feel the moisture on his palms and fingertips. You were a pretty girl, sure. Maybe it was the fact that you went to a different school, it was new for him! That’s it! He wasn’t nervous, what the hell would he have to be nervous about? You’re just some girl anyways.

“I’m Y/N L/N! Don’t forget it future hero, shout me out when you get famous. I’m a first year too and my quirk is called analyze! If I have a certain amount of caffeine, I can read people’s body language like I've known them for years! It’s actually awesome. It’s not as cool as your explosions though. Those are something else.”

Oh. That was it. Now he knew what it was, he scrunched up his face and looked away from your overwhelming presence. He didn’t like you, you were just cute and you’d complimented him and...you smelled like honey. Maybe if he just ignored you, you’d go away.

“Oh yeah? What am I projecting right now, nerd?”

“You’re feeling like you might be...well I don’t know! You’re complex, a couple minutes ago you were shy and now you’re a little nervous and something else. I haven’t had any coffee today, so I can’t read you. I’m sorry about that!”

It was humiliating, this cool (and attractive) guy asks you to show him your quirk and you can’t even do that?

“I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“What? Really? I don’t even know your name…”

“Shut up and take the offer! I’ll buy you a coffee so I can see how actually strong you are. And didn’t you watch the sports festival?,” a boyish grin rose on his face and the sight made your heart melt, “It’s Bakugou Katsuki!”

Humming, you repeated his name and watched him nod before facing forward once more. It rolled off the tongue in an odd way. Bakugou had such sharp consonants and seemed fiery, it sort of suit him. But Katsuki...that suit him for sure. The starters of each syllable were gentle and reminded you of other words like whipped cream or honey.

“I like your name. It’s a strong one, I’ll be sure to remember it!”

“No one’s ever said that before. You’re kinda weird you know? I mean, how marks their book pages like that?”

“Hey wait a minute! I just didn’t have a bookmark on hand! Plus I bought it so there’s no harm really! Well maybe a little but nothing long-lasting.”

“Sure. You heathen,” he carried an amused smile on his face and took a step forward, “here it comes.”

“What?”

T . he train burst out of the entrance like a rocket, lights shining into your eyes yet also casting a dim yellow glow over the whole station. The wind from the sheer speed of it whipped you in the face and for a split second it’s realized that if you had stood any closer, you might have been blown backwards. You jacket bristles at the contact and a frown dons your features when you realize that this was the end. Well, maybe the beginning of the end of your love story adventure.

Bakugou stood proudly, legs in a proud wide stance and his arms crossed as he quickly stepped up to the platform and then onto the train. He turned and jerked his head back, motioning you to be his accompaniment. Hoisting your backpack up even farther, you squeezed through those small sliding door with the rest of the people in the station.

He said nothing and sat in the closest seat, conveniently leaving the two next of him empty as he looked as you expectantly. Even if it wasn’t meant to be friendly, you couldn’t deny the fact that his sharp glare made you feel a little weak at the knees. Clutching your bag to your chest, you sat so close your knees were touching and your heartbeat thumped like a rabbit’s foot in your chest.

“I actually don’t like riding the train. But…”

“Don’t get started. I don’t wanna hear your mushy shit.”

You deflated a bit.

“But yeah, it’s not so bad if you’re around, loser.”

You smiled and played with the ripped hole in your bag. Who could read who again? You couldn’t even tell anymore as the universe made itself known in the piece of gum he handed you that, indeed, this would not be your last meeting.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakusquad #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #bnha #bnha ship #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #kaachan #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you

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wonhoslittlebunny · 5 years ago

Text

Surprise | M

Doyoung x Reader Warning: SMUT, cursing, slight bondage and pain play Word: 2,282 words

Doyoung’s birthday was coming up and you were having trouble figuring out what you should get him. Every time you ask him he always tells you that he already has everything he has ever wanted. You know he is just being sweet, but it is kinda frustrating when you are trying to do something special for your boyfriend.

in order to get the information needed for the upcoming day, you went to the other members to try and see if Doyoung has talked to them about anything he wanted. This itself was a very hard task since they are all usually together. The even harder task was to try and convince Doyoung to go out with Mark and Haechan to buy some dinner. After all the whining you did he reluctantly left. “You really want me gone don't you?” he joked only for you to nod you head. He ended up laughing as he gave you a kiss to your lips before he left the house with the other two.

Once you were sure he was gone you turned to the remaining members. “I need your guys’ help.” All heads turn to you. Johnny is the first one to speak,”Is that why you wanted Doyoung to leave?” You simply nod your head and have a seat right in between Taeyong and Taeil. “I just need help figuring out what to get him for his birthday. Every time I ask he tells me he already has everything he wants.” You couldn't help the frustrated sigh that left your lips.

“Well isn't that a good thing for him to say? It sounds like he is happy with you and doesn't want you to get him anything.” Jungwoo was the next one to speak, and quite frankly you wish he hadn't. I mean I know that is what Doyoung means when he says stuff like that, but he always buys me things. All I want to do is repay him for all the gifts he has given to me. You explain this to the boys and they all admit that he never really says much about wanting anything.

“Great! So what am I supposed to get him?” Frustration radiating off of your body. “I know.” Jaehyun’s reply only has you perking up. “Give him sex.” He simply suggests. Well duh, you knew at the end of the night it was going to end up with you two in between the sheets. “Well I was kinda already planning on it.” Your response only makes all of them laugh. Your confusion is what made them stop laughing.

“We mean like some kinky sex, y/n.” Johnny was always so blunt when it came to this kind of stuff, which had you blushing out of embarrassment. You weren't even sure what kinda of stuff your boyfriend was into. “Aww, don't be so embarrassed y/n. Doyoungie talks about wanting to try stuff with you all the time with us.” Taeyong’s comment had you shook. Why didn't he ever talk to you about this kind of stuff. The boys quickly told you about all the things that your once so vanilla boyfriend wanted to try.

In the next week, you searched the internet and went to adult stores to try and get some of the stuff that was involved in Doyoung’s fantasies. These things included a blindfold, handcuffs, candles, and clothespins. To top it all off you bought yourself some black lacy lingerie.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After dinner with Doyoung, you guys were heading back to your place for his present. Once you two arrived, excitement filled you and you couldn't wait to begin the night of events you had planned. “Baby, why don't we go to my room. I wanna show you something.” you whisper in his ear as you begin placing kisses on his neck. He nods as he scoops you up and carries you toward your room.

With your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, he pins you to the outside of your door. His lips connects with your in a quick but heated kiss before he moves to open the door. You disconnect from him once in your room. Everything for the night was laid out on your dresser, but before his eyes could register what exactly was on the dresser you peeled your dress from your body leaving you in your lingerie.

“Damn... How in the world did I get so lucky.” as he says the words his feet carried him too you only to connect his lips to yours once again. This time though he didn't separate from you. His hands all over your body, squeezing you in all the right places. You knew the lingerie wasn't going to last long but you didn't expect to be out of it so quickly.

You were on the bed completely naked, while a completely clothed Doyoung was hovering over you leaving marks all over your skin. Before this could progress any further you tried your best to speak about the things on the dresser. “Doyoungie... I-I bought some things...they’re on the dresser.” He was leaving marks on your inner thighs very close to your throbbing core.

His eyebrows knit in confusion at your statement, but gets up and goes to check what you got. Once he reaches the dresser, all you can do is bite your lip hoping he likes the stuff you got. You see his finger lightly brush over the handcuffs and got to the blindfold, lifting it up in his hands. When he turns around, you couldn't believe the look on his face. His whole face was lit up, he looked like a little kid in a candy shop. “Are you sure baby?” his question was full of excitement. You smiled and nodded your head, “Of course, Doyoung. I wouldn't of bought the stuff If I didn't want you to use them.” What you said was the truth, but you couldn't help but feel a little scared for what was to come.

Doyoung stalked towards the bed with a different demeanor than before. His eyes were dark with lust and the wicked smile that spread across his lips had wetness pooling at your core. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m going to take such good care of you baby. I promise there is nothing to be scared of.”

You trusted Doyoung with your heart and soul, so when he said those words you believed every word he said. He ties the red silk blindfold around your eyes, making everything go black. “Can you see anything?” You shake your head, your mind now hyper aware of every movement made by your boyfriend. His hand travels the length of your neck, between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach to rest just above where you needed him most. Goosebumps raised on your skin and you can't help but rub your thighs together.

Smack

Doyoung’s hand comes into contact with the skin on your thigh causing a sharp stinging pain to run through your body. You let out a little whimper as he rubs where he spanked you with his hand. “My baby is so impatient to get pleased. We haven't even started and you’re already so needy to be touched.” He teases you by running his hands up and down your body slowly. Brushing against your pert nipples ever so slightly causing you to let out soft whimpers.

Just as his hand was going to reach your heated core you hear him step away. You tug your bottom in-between your teeth as you hear him move stuff around on the dresser. A shiver ran through your body as he brushed the cold metal of the handcuffs along your warm body. “Hands, baby.” Your hands immediately move to above your head. The cold metal of the handcuffs is a nice contrast to your very flushed and heated skin. You hear the cuffs lock in place as he cuffs you to the headboard.

“Are they too tight, baby?” you shake your head only to earn another smack on your outer thigh. “Words, babygirl.”

“No, they're not.” A moan slips past your lips as Doyoung rolls one of your nipples between two of his fingers. “Baby, why don't you call me sir for the night.”

“Yes, Sir.” After the words left your mouth and audible groan left Doyoung’s. “At anytime you want to stop baby just say the word red, alright?”

“Yes, Sir.”

You heard him step away for a couple of seconds only for him to comeback and start leaving pinching sensations all over your body. Whines and whimpers filled the room as Doyoung used the clothespins. He had left one attached to each one of your nipples, you were quite surprised at how much you were enjoying the pain. “You look so pretty being so submissive for me.”

“Sir, please I really need you.” you beg. You didn't know how much longer you can take without being touched. “Such an impatient little slut. I still haven't played with all the things you bought me.” You could hear the little fake pout in his voice. You felt his hands run down your body, but this time he doesn't stop his movement. You spread your legs to give him even more access to your aching heat. He used his fingers to spread your lips apart and to start teasing your entrance.

“Fuck, baby. You're so wet for me.” Your moans are what pushed him to insert a finger inside of you. You were so caught up in the pleasure he was giving you that you didn't even realize that Doyoung had made his way in between your legs. He attached his lips to your neglected clit, sucking harshly on the hard bud. He added two more fingers and began to curl them inside of you. Hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust. You felt as if your head was spinning.

You wrapped your hands around the handcuffs as you prepared yourself for your upcoming orgasm. “Are you gonna cum, baby? Go on cum all over my face, baby.” His fingers fucked into you faster as your orgasm washed over your body. His fingers slowed down only to help you ride out your high. “Open.” Doyoung commanded and you knew exactly what he wanted. You opened your mouth only for him to stick his fingers into your mouth. You began to suck on his digits that were soaked with your cum.

“You're so good to me, y/n” His praise makes you blush. You suddenly feel him above your head as he unlocks the handcuffs and takes the blindfold from you. You wince as light floods your vision. The clothespins that were on you are now on the floor. Before you could pull Doyoung into a kiss he discards all of his clothing. He slides off his boxers only to let his cock spring free and hit his tummy.

Your mouth began to water just wanting him to fuck your throat until you can't speak. “Not tonight, baby. I want to show you how much I loved my present.” You couldn't help but pout. You hated that he could read your mind. He comes back to you and hovers over your body. He leaves wet kisses all over your neck and the top of your breasts. You reach down in between your bodies and gripped his cock. You pump him a few times, earning the prettiest of groans from your boyfriend. He takes the hint and aligns his member at your entrance.

His lips find yours, tangling his tongue with yours as he begins pushing into you. You both groan as soon as he bottoms out in you. “You feel so fucking amazing, y/n. How did I get so lucky.” His movements start off slow and sensual. You felt as if you were going crazy. You loved the pace so much, but you needed more. “Sir, harder, please.” You say in between moans. He groans in response and picks up his movements tremendously. His thrusts are quicker and rougher, making you arch your back up into him.

He takes your legs and wraps them around his waist as he fucks into you deeper, hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust. Your moans turned into mantras of his name as he brought you closer to your second orgasm.

You could tell he was close to by the way he groans against your neck, and the way his cock twitched inside you. His hand went to your clit urging you to come on his cock. You did exactly that. As you came your fingernails dug into his back urging him to cum inside you. You clenched around him one last time as you felt his hot seed paint your walls. His thrusts slowed down to help ride out both yours and his orgasms.

You two laid there for quite awhile, with his cock still buried deep in your pussy as you tried to catch your breath. His head buried in the crook of your neck leaving kisses here and there. Your hands were playing with his now damp hair. Once you both caught your breath, Doyoung picks his head up to place a sweet kiss on your lips. “I love you so much.” His eyes glisten with love and adoration towards you. A cheeky smile is placed on your face. “I love you so much too.” The night ended with the two of you taking a quick shower and then cuddling for the rest of the night, sleeping in each other arms

#kpop smut #nct smut #nct #kpop #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #doyoung #doyoung smut #kim doyoung #kim doyoung smut #kpop scenarios #nct 127 scenarios

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umi-tama · 4 years ago

Text

October 4th 2011

When I woke up today, I found a crying little baby girl. I decided to call her Luna, give her her uncle Brad's bass drum and her dad's old teddy bear (a present from his nanny back then; he never really liked it), and started to take care of her :) After getting sick and later going to bed, she evolved into Hitodetchi, got visited by her nanny, and presented with a new toy: a globe. She absolutely loves it ^^ The rest of the day she spent playing, practicing, and happily bouncing around on the screen. Here are her stats when she went to sleep: 0 yr, 10 lb hungry ❤❤❤❤ happy ❤❤❤O stress: 05 tone: 288 rhythm: 315 original: 406 genre: Asian Music

When I went to the park with him today, he met Noda :) The were swinging a bit, and catching up with everything that happened, since the last time they saw each other. Noda told him about his gorgeous little daughter and was happy to hear, that she and Till already met and became buddies ^^ And that was already the most interesting thing, that happened today *lol* So here are his stats at the end of the day: 4 yr, 30 lb hungry ❤❤❤❤O happy ❤❤❤❤❤ train [▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▫▫▫▫▫] friendship ❤❤❤❤❤❤ gotchi points: 954,170

October 5th 2011

Yesterday I left my tamas at home, when going to our weekly meeting at work. Unpaused. When I came back, Luna was crouching in a corner of her room, with a skull floating above her, three poops, a stress level near 50 and empty happy and hungry hearts. Apparantly I kinda like forgot, that she was only a toddler, when deciding not to pause her... uhm, oops? ^^' Anyways, shortly after I cared for her, she evolved into Ringotchi and a while later went to bed. Or so I thought. Because - being a typical teenager (who might've gotten a bit neglected by mommy...) - she actually sneaked out of her bedroom window, after I turned off the light! ò_ó' And you'll never guess where she went...

During the day, not much happened for Till. He, too, got neglected a bit, but still had 2 full hungry and 3 full happy hearts and only one poop pile on his screen, after I came back from work. I cared for him, too, played his favorite game "Shoot The Bug" with him

and then both of us went back to minding our own businesses. When I saw him going to the park later that night (after his bath, even), I decided to follow him, though, curious if he'd even meet anyone there, since it was already dark outside. And he did.

I was shocked! Luna shouldn't be out in the park this late, not to mention how it is highly inappropriate for her, to meet up with older men there D: And today, after her first day at her new school (where she founded a band called Bara with a cute little Ichigotchi and an adorable Chamametchi), she met Till again. This time they not only built a sand castle at the park, but also went bowling, while I was sitting at home, not knowing where she is, and imagining the most awful things, that could've happened to her ~_~' Luckily - despite his punk-ish appearance - Till is a well behaved young man, so he brought Luna home after their secret little date, and we sat down and had a talk about the whole thing (after I sent Luna up to her room to take care of her homework). Apparantly he really really likes her, even though he's aware, that she's way too young for him. He told me, that when he went to the Date Place today and was offered a really beautiful Makiko there, he suddenly found himself thinking of Luna, and realized, that he would never be as happy with anyone else, as he could be with her. So he decided to wait for her to become an adult, and then tell her about his feelings, hoping she will feel the same. Yeah, well, how could I stay mad at him? It's not like anyone could control their feelings. So yes, I allowed him to once in a while take her out for bowling, but only after she's done with her homework and band practice, and only if he brings her home, before it's getting dark outside. (Of course I plan to continue keeping an eye on the both of them, nontheless. I'm not stupid, but well aware, that Luna is also crushing pretty hard on Till, and those teenagers... you never know what they're up to >_>'). I'm curious how their future will look like, with Luna aiming to become a famous musician and Till turning down all other marriage offers, until their age gap doesn't matter anymore. We'll see. So far, here are Till's stats at the end of today: 6 yr, 33 lb hungry ❤❤❤❤❤ happy ❤❤❤❤❤ train [▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▫▫▫▫▫] friendship ❤❤❤❤❤❤ gotchi points: 961,750 and here Luna's stats from tonight, after she went to sleep (and this time I checked, that she really stayed in her bed): 2 yr, 30 lb hungry ❤❤❤❤ happy ❤❤❤❤ stress: 00 tone: 418 rhythm: 505 original: 820 genre: Asian Music

October 8th 2011

Guess who evolved two nights ago? And guess who became one of my favorite Tama characters? Yes! Luna evolved into Makiko! I'm so happy. I love Makiko 💖 (Also now I know why the girl that Till met at the Date Place reminded him of Luna. Ha!) When she went to school, the jury was already awaiting her and her friends.

Two Os, one X. No Pro-Debut. Meanwhile Till was waiting outside the school and later took her out on a nice, long date, to take her mind off from how her graduation went. Well, and this date ended exactly how I pictured it to end, if I don't keep an eye on those two...

I wasn't all too happy with Luna becoming such a young mom, but who am I to interfer with her life? She's an adult now, after all. Besides, her having a baby has a nice side effect: her stress level doesn't go up anymore. So I could have her practice for hours, which, by today, finally resulted in her band getting the Asian Music Award ^^ Afterwards (since I used up all her remaining concerts anyways) I already switched her instrument and toy to the equipment I plan for her son to have (as you can see above). Not sure yet of how to name the kiddos. Guess I'll decide that spontaneously ;) Here Luna's stats, right before she left her son: 3 yr, 37 lb hungry ❤❤❤❤ happy ❤❤❤O stress: 00 tone: 686 rhythm: 786 original: 999 genre: Asian Music star ranking: 4th tama fans: 238,519,542 And here Till's stats, before he left his baby girl: 8 yr, 32 lb hungry ❤❤❤❤O happy ❤❤❤❤O train [▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▫▫▫▫▫] friendship ❤❤❤❤OO gotchi points: 964,530 ~ Ah, yeah, and I still haven't managed to log into (or even sign up on) Music City. I tried InternetExplorer, Mozilla Firefox, Google Chrome and Safari. I cleaned my browser history and cache, I cleaned my flash cache, I even tried it with deactivated firewall. But I still keep getting either a blank page or this:

... 😒

#Tamagotchi MusicStar #TamaTown TamaGo #Tamagotchi #archived post #my art #2011 #long post #Tama Log

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jamiebluewind · 5 years ago

Text

Character Descriptions for Fantasy High 2.9!

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As always, let me know if I need to edit or add anything and tag/ask/PM me about art and stories so I can check them out!

Warning: trauma, abuse, mental abuse, neglect, starvation, manipulation, memory loss mention, dark themes, isolation, imprisonment, fantasy racism, vomit mention (please let me know if I missed any)

All pronounciations typed out have a rolled R.

***

Facts

The party is currently at 44,100 exp. each. Next level is at 48,000 (which will probably take 3 more big battles, 2 if Brennan is super generous with RP awards).

Abernant family had all their land and wealth reclaimed by The Court of Stars for their treachery and failure to prevent a war with Solace. Elianwyn committed treason and betrayal as well.

To save Adaine, the group decided to break up into 3 teams: Pylon 1 (Ragh, Tracker, Cathilda, and Sandra Lynn), Pylon 2 (Gorgug, Fabian, and Riz), and Recovery (Ayda, Fig, and Kristen). Team 1 and 2 would simultaneously take out the pylons. Then, the recovery team would go in (invisible and/or disguised) and gets Adaine and Aelwyn. They would all meet back at Van where they would most likely use Ayda's teleport to leave Fallinel (or regroup to plan their next move).

***

New Characters

Tell-ah-mine Low-men-el-da

Fabian's grandpapa

Tall elf with regal green robes, a silver circlet, long platinum white blond hair with a widows peak, and shimmering blue eyes

Crinkle in the corners of his eyes shows his age in sort of an Elrond way. He look of a dude in his late 40s/early 50s who took excellent care of his body and kept it tight

Moves with supernatural grace

Can turn into silver sand and float away

Has no concept of what time means

Obsessed with the fact that his grandson will die before him (Your human blood has brought mortality to this family. You will one day die.)

Offers to send word to an elf who is a fabled eye smith who lives on the high mountains at the heart of Fallinel that can craft a working eye (from songs, whispers, beams of moonlight, jeweled edges of the blue of the sea, and shimmering poems pulled from the ether itself) for Fabian, but has no clue how long it will take (a moment, a year, or a hundred years).

Can't pronounce words in common very well, especially words he's never heard before (which delights Fabian and pisses off Gorgug)

Calls Fabian Aramais Seacaster fa-bee-ahn ah-rye-ah-my-ess Seacaster (which might actually be the proper pronouncations of his name in that region as "Seacaster" was said correctly and that's how all the other elves say his name as well) and calls Hallariel ha-lair-ee-el

Weeps without moving his face, but also sometimes makes a soft eeehhhh sound when he cries (at one point he cried over a drop of water)

Gifted stewardship of Khy-low Meh-new-rah 3000 years ago after he crafted The Sword of the North Star (he was the smith of fung-dran-ghoor) for the ancient king of Fallinel Th-wrist-win Eversong.

"Without the Elven Oracle, we are lost."

Saw the Abernants as power hungry and cruel and can't understand why they would leave Fallinel. He found Anguin in particular to be a crass and small man with no nobility, only a thirst for power.

Thinks Riz has a harsh energy, is "a little dick", and calls him "a strange green mouse thing"

Got physically ill when a gun was explained to him, calling it gross and some dwarven kind of thing before vomiting which he turns into a flock of white crows

Vhan-lair-ee-el

Fabian's aunt

Tried to heal Fabian's pneumonia with elvan singing

Said "I have failed" when her singing doesn't work before she fades into starlight and vanishes

Hal-door-in and [unnamed youth]

Elven teens in white linen shorts arguing because [unnamed] believes Hal-door-in took his lute.

Calmed by a distant song which stopped their fight.

Faf-threth-riel

Lithe elven youth (around 17 or 18 years old) with a blond mop of hair covering one eye

Bakes elven whey bread

Lived a sheltered life

Ragh was the first half-orc he met

Mostly into Ragh due to Ragh being half orc, excessively talking about his green skin (like the boughs of a tree leafy, my leafy man), being big and beefy (your legs are like the mighty trunks of trees), was really into rage (like when Ragh punched a seat cushion) to the point of it making Ragh uncomfortable

Sang in bed

Treth-thren-ren

Elven youth who does morning dance yoga

Tried to get Fabian to eat a grape

Oak Warriors

Elemental plant based automaton soldiers made of pure magic

Look like 8 foot tall green men with leaves coming from their faces

***

Changes to Established Characters

Aelwyn

Matted long blond hair

Dry skin, chapped colorless lips, and thick bags under her eyes

Severely dehydrated and trance deprived (probably hasn't been allowed to trance for nearly a year)

5 points of exhaustion. Only magic is keeping her from going to the 6th level and dying.

Her "room" is a large large beautiful elven chamber with silver and marble. Ambiant light glows from the white stone.

Trapped inside a 15 foot diameter orb that's constantly turning so she can't trance

Crawling on hands and knees while trapped, shaking with the effort

Doesn't give Adaine up to Kear

Can still remember how to cast the message cantrip

Feels strange and addled (unable to think clearly; confused), can't remember what's real or imagined anymore, doesn't clearly remember what happened in her past (including what she did to get imprisoned), and forgets what she and Adaine have already talked about (causing a lot of reputation).

Thinks her parents "tried their best they could" and that "they expected quite a lot of us, but isn't that what- doesn't that... didn't that make us great?" (possibly due to something her father said or did since her imprisonment as it echoes a few things he's said)

Gilear

Looks scruffy (from not shaving), dirty, and has pit stains

Somehow didn't mess up being diplomatic with Fabian's grandpapa

Unbuttons the top button on his shirt when he "lets loose"

To Fig about Sandra Lynn and Garthy: Are you aware of such... hanky panky?

Learning of Sandra Lynn's infidelity with Garthy "Honestly? Perhaps this is... fucked up. It makes me feel... like there wasn't something uniquely wrong with me. Maybe a tiny little w for Gilear."

Spent the night walking through the forest with Hallariel's father, reciting poetry (badly)

To Fabian after Hallariel's father threw up "You're low and he's low. It's Gilear's day baby! It's Gilear's day."

Tried to ask Hallariel's father for her hand, but even though Fig gave him bardic inspiration and Riz helped by covering Fabian's mouth, he failed... so much. ("Lord Tell-ah-mine of Khy-low Meh-new-rah I like you am-" *makes himself throw up* "We get it. We both get it. We... We're the throw up boys." *passes out*)

Ayda

Hid in the van the entire visit

Might have rejection sensitive dysphoria (which is common in those with autism or ADHD)

Did a sending spell to Zelda for Gorgug for 150 gold (after reminding him that she very much does not like anyone in her debt or visa versa)

Offered to exact vengeance on Zelda for Gorgug

Is powerful enough to know teleport and learn plane shift (so level 13 or higher)

Stated that Adaine is her best friend and decides that since Fig is also Adaine's best friend, by the transitive property she is best friends with Fig as well (and Fig agreed). Learning this, she says "Fantastic. I grow richer by the day. I'm emotional." before starting to cry fire "I'm emotional. I'm gonna fly away." She then flew away, returning after she had calmed down.

Ragh

Ate grapes and started burping musical notes after he left Khy-low Meh-new-rah.

Lost his virginity to Faf-threth-riel who then got creepy and kinda racist, making Ragh very uncomfortable (and want to get out of there asap)

Fabian

Lost both points of exhaustion thanks to the 8000 thread count elven sheets (did they get to keep the sheets or at least one sheet for help with exhaustion?)

Felt really good when he tried out dance yoga, even wondering if he should be some kind of yoga dancer instead of a fighter (how about a whirling dervish dancer like Cathilda?)

The grapes he put in his pocket (after refusing to eat them) turned into song

Indifferent towards saving Aelwyn and doesn't want to be on the retrieval team

When he started feeling anxious about the Aelwyn stuff, Riz told him to lose himself in dancing again to feel free (Riz: You are the only one that I wanna see dancing right now.) It made him feel much better.

***

Other Characters

Adaine

Taken by Court of Stars

Her jacket and spellbook were taken

Trapped in an orb which is soft and doesn't hurt her, but the constant movement of its slow turning doesn't allow her to be still or trance

The walls of her room glow with runes and there are many perminant magical effects, making her captors capable of some crazy things (like prepared directional counter spells), but the setup wouldn't counter cantrips

Escaped the orb with dispel magic (dc 15) which makes a couple counter spells go off and an alarm sound

Hid in Aelwyn's room. The sister's spoke before she was recaptured and placed back in her orb. Adaine told Aelwyn that she was going to get her out

Discovered that her room was close enough to Aelwyn to talk to her via the message cantrip

Repeatedly cast Ray of Frost to turn her orb into a slip and slide to stay entertained

Instead of speaking to her father in elvish, she responded in common. Also cast Tasha's Hideous Laughter on him.

Anguin and Kear said she would be executed for treason for staying in Solace and refusing to cooperate. She demanded a lawyer and then the Ambassador to Solace, citing her age and being a student at Augefort Adventuring Academy which summoned a recorded hologram of Arthur Augefort.

Arthur Augefort

Has a recorded hologram that is activated when a student claims the need of his diplomatic help in foreign affairs.

It threatens the listeners with graphic and terrifying violence and doom, giving them the options of either rectify the actions that summoned him (Yes) or refuse and welcome the aforementioned punishment for their actions (No).

Gorgug

Fabian's grandfather called him Jhor-judge

Finally got a message to Zelda via Ayda using her sending spell (Zelda. Safe in Fallinel. Gonna finish cell tower soon. Sorry about everything, but hope your break is going well in spite of this. Miss you.) and got a reply the next morning a little while after waking up (Sorry. Was at a party. You don't have to build a cell tower. That's crazy. It's all whatever Gorgug. I don't blame you.)

Didn't sleep well, but still got the benefit of a full night's sleep due to elven sheets.

Kristen

Got in a fight with Tracker and then got 3 nat 1s on persuasion checks when she tried to make up with her.

Slept in Adaine's room

Doesn't know how to make a cell tower

Took one of the 40 to 50 foot long diaphanous silk scarves with her

Gave (inspiring?) speech ending with "Friendship is thinker than water and we need water to live." which gave everyone 11 temp hit points

Accidentally called Pok a "smiling elf" and then blew it off as being due to her being human

Can now see Shadow Cat in the picture (along with Tracker, Sandra Lynn, Garthy, Riz, and Sklonda and possibly the dead cambian, Pok, Jace, and Adaine's mom) and reacted by saying "Was I spooning the cat all night in the milk!?"

Sandra Lynn

Dropped out senior year and got her diploma after the fact to join an adventuring party

Joined as a replacement member for an existing adventuring party that was already active in the world and included an older much more powerful married couple.

Fresh out of high school, fell in love with one person from the couple (nonbinary or gender intentionally hidden) who "did not treat her very kindly"

When it all came out, she was ejected from the adventuring party, her romantic partner took great pains to smear her name (so no one would accept her), no other party would take her as a replacement, and she was forced to become a Celesian Ranger

Gilear knows who the couple were, but doesn't want to tell Fig (could she know the people involved?)

Key-heir/Khear

Child-like elven maiden with long brown braided hair, a white gown, and a large staff.

When confronted by Arthur Augefort's hologram, she chose to not heed his warnings.

***

More from 2.9!

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#fantasy high #dimension 20 #d20 character descriptions #d20 descriptions #fantasy high live #descriptions #tw dark themes #tw imprisonment #tw isolation #tw abuse #tw neglect #tw mental abuse #tw manipulation #tw starvation #tw fantasy racism #tw vomit mention #fantasy high spoilers

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forestwater87 · 5 years ago

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Would you want Gwen and David to become a couple at the end of CampCamp? And adopt Max as well? Cuz' I do...

Gwenvid becoming canon is one of those things I simultaneously love and feel is unnecessary. The show will never let it be as pure and fluffy (or emo) as the fans will make it, anyway, and there is no force on earth that will stop me from shipping this ship with every ounce of my shriveled little heart, so I’m kinda ambivalent on the whole thing. (Besides, I know at least one of the showrunners is not at all into it, so I don’t see it happening no matter how much we may want it to. As long as they keep giving us little ship nuggets we can read way too much into, I’ll be good.)

Also I’m not convinced CC is the kind of show that needs an end, so “at the end” is one of those things that … eh, whatever. It’s an endless summer existing outside of time. Does it ever have to end, as long as they keep having new ideas?

As for the other part of this question … oh, boy. Anon, you did not ask me to go the fuck off on this question, but I gotta because I’ve been holding all this inside for literal years, and I don’t even care that this will make me hemorrhage followers because I’ve been very good and very quiet about it for a long-ass time and I just gotta –

I fucking hate Dad//vid.

And you know? I didn’t used to. My feelings, much like those regarding Cute Waitress, went from “how cute!” to “eh, not my thing but whatever,” and now we’ve circled all the way around to my entire soul lighting on rage-fire every time it’s mentioned, and just … I hate it so much … it’s just …

I feel like this deserves an explanation. And I think the people who’ve already blocked me or whatever aren’t going to read it, so let’s put it under a cut just for the sake of scrolling. But here’s the cliffs notes version:

1. It’s #NotAllDad//vid. There are some iterations of it I don’t hate, and even quite like.

2. David adopting Max, as a general concept, blows. There are exceptions – see #1 – but 99 times out of 100 I hate it with all of my hate. (The short reasons why: David is baby and Forest has Issues, it’s kiiiiinda racist?, and it’s lazy, boring, and way overdone.)

3. The fandom will not fucking chill about it – at the expense of all other explorations of David and Max’s relationship. And that makes me highkey annoyed.

That being said, anyone who’s worried my blog will become a cesspool of dad//vid hate, please don’t be concerned. This is like lancing a boil of something (I’m bad at metaphors). All the garbage pours out in one massive textblock, and then I go back to being more or less chill about the whole thing. We’re dealing with years of repression here. Shit’s gonna be a lot more intense than it needs to be, and then we’ll settle back down to our regularly-scheduled CC fluff times.

I’m hoping this doesn’t make the fandom hate me forever … but given #3 up there, I’m pretty dang scared it will.

(And hey, I don’t want Cute Waitress to explode in a pit of fire and snakes anymore, so maybe my opinion on dad//vid will change eventually too. Always hold out hope, right?)

1. #NotAllDad//vid

Like I said, I didn’t used to totally despise the whole Dad//vid thing. Like, I love the idea of David having been a counselor for so long that he just has ingrained Dad Instincts (see S4E14 for the most recent example of this). David as the Dad Friend? Good shit. David as the mother/father hen of his little cabal of campers? Very good shit. Nonliteral interpretations of dad//vid are usually really cute and fun and have some solid basis in canon, and I’m all about it.

Even some of the more literal David-adopts-Max AUs aren’t … the worst. Some of my friends have written versions of it that are original or at least were at the time and really compelling, and usually they found a way of skirting past the majority of the issues in #2. It can be done well.

It just … usually … isn’t.

And for that we gotta see #2.

2. David-Adopts-Max Sucks as a Concept

There is nothing good about the idea of David adopting Max, at least based on what we’ve currently seen in canon.

(Yes, I am aware that I should couch statements like that with “in my opinion” and “with exceptions” and the like, but that’s a lot of work for this and a bunch of the stuff I’m gonna say in a second, so please just assume for the purposes of everything I put on this blog that it’s in my opinion. I’m not out here dropping Cold Hard Facts about Camp Camp of all things; I’m just spewing my feelings.

I have lots of feelings.)

I don’t really have a cute little opening segment for this, so let’s skip the hors d’oeuvres and hop right into the meat of it:

David is Way Too Young to be a Father (According to Forest, Who Has Massive Emotional Baggage About These Things)

David is 24 goddamn years old. You know who shouldn’t be put in constant legal charge of a 10-year-old? Someone who is only 14 years older than him. If he’d had Max the old-fashioned way he would be too young to go on 16 and Pregnant.

That is too fucking young.

I know that some people become parents that young, and even younger. I’m not saying your experiences are bad or invalid. I’m just saying, from the standpoint of being 26, that if one of my two-years-younger friends told me they were adopting a kid they knew from work, I would tell them they were fucking bonkers and to hand that child over to a grown-up immediately. This is especially true of David, who has remarkable emotional maturity but is also mentally about 8 years old. Gwen is the adult at that camp, and David is such a baby.

Please don’t give the baby a baby.

Also, I’m terrified of having children. I never plan to, I’ve only recently accepted the fact that I don’t have to (grew up religious; it was kinda a whole thing), and get knee-jerk defensive over the idea of anyone my age or younger having children. It freaks me out, and that’s not a good or right emotional reaction to have but it’s mine, and I lowkey panic every time I think of David having children because if he should have a child at 24 then I’m already late.

Yes, I get the feeling that I’m running behind. For something I don’t actually want, ever. In comparison to a fictional character. Whose fatherhood decisions are not even remotely canon.

TL;DR I have issues and my other arguments are decidedly more valid than this one

So How About That Racism, Huh?

I know this has been a matter of some debate in the CC fandom for a while now … but you know what? It’s not nearly enough of a debate. People should absolutely be talking more about the potential problematique aspects of having a way too young white kid take a child from his immigrant parents on some pretty shoddy evidence (which I’ll address in the next section). There’s some White Savior stuff going on there, some negatively-stereotyping-poc-and-immigrant parents going on there … I’m not saying these should completely disqualify any dad//vid AUs or speculation or anything, but it should absolutely be much more of a conversation than it currently is.

(This is why one of the few David-adopts-Max concepts I like is one in which his parents have died. Not only is it more interesting – again, see the next bit – but it neatly sidesteps some potential gross stereotyping, and that’s just always rad.)

I feel like the common counterargument to this is that there are not-great parents of color and not-great immigrant parents IRL, so wouldn’t it be dishonest not to portray that in fiction as well?

I mean … I dunno.

I’m not here to tell anyone how to write the One Pure Dad//vid AU or anything. But I will say that I don’t think most people in love with this concept have done anything resembling due diligence in considering how best to sensitively portray the complicated familial, racial, and other implications of this particular AU or concept.

Besides, it’s not real life. It’s fiction, which means any decisions are being made deliberately. It’s a choice to depict Max’s parents as abusive and neglectful monsters who immigrated to America to give their son a better life but that’s for the next section, and it’s not inherently a bad choice, but it’s one that should be made thoughtfully, with an eye to the history of negative stereotypes that already run rampant in fiction. That’s just part of the writing process, and not one that should be shunted aside because it’s more work and less dramatic than creating the biggest of big bads for David to make grand speeches at and/or punch in the face.

Just Not Very Interesting (And Done to Death)

Regarding the overdone thing: Reading a David-adopts-Max AU most of the time is just like reading every other David-adopts-Max AU; I’m pretty sure I could put all these fics on transparencies, overlay them on top of one another, and still have a legible story because they differ so little.

Now to be clear: This – along with the rest of my points in this section – are about personal taste. Some people love reading the same story over and over again, and it brings immense comfort to them. That’s okay, and you shouldn’t feel bad about reading (or writing) these stories and not wanting to break your back trying to find a new angle for it. Cringe culture is canceled, and my personal tastes should not dictate the fandom. You do you.

That being said, I’m also allowed to be so bored by almost all of these fics that I nearly fall asleep scrolling the AO3 feed.

And the frustrating thing is, it would take so little to make it different. All it would take is asking: what if it wasn’t that simple? What if his parents aren’t all bad? What if they’re trying their best, but aren’t able for whatever reason to care for Max the way he needs to be? (I’m thinking Deja’s mom from This Is Us, for a cool example.) What if they later come to regret whatever behavior is making them so sucky, and reconcile in some fashion with their son? What if David and/or Max have fundamentally misread the situation, due to being on the outside and a kid, respectively, and it turns out his parents are actually making the best decisions they can in this situation and David doesn’t need to literally become Max’s dad, but integrates into the family in another way? (Seriously, even “what if they’re dead instead of evil?” would blow my mind in terms of originality. It’s been done, but not nearly enough.)

So that’s the overdone thing out of the way. What about lazy and boring?

It just seems to me that, based on the evidence we’ve been given in the show, there are infinitely more nuanced and creative alternatives to “Max’s parents are canonically abusive and neglectful and deserve to have their child ripped away from them by the guy who sees him at his job like 2-3 months out of the year.” I, in fact, refuse to believe Max’s parents are bad people based on the current evidence, and won’t do so unless canon forces me to see no other option.

Because as of right now, I just don’t buy it.

Didn’t show up to Parents’ Day: Well, we know they immigrated from India to escape “menial labor” (S1E4), and we know capitalism stomps all over the kind of people stuck doing menial labor, so what if they were unable to get away from work or they’d be fired? Hell, what if they couldn’t afford it for whatever reason – car broke down, they don’t have a phone or were out of data, they got hurt or sick or something came up that was interpreted by a small child as a lack of interest because he’s been shown that he doesn’t fully understand either adults’ motivations (all of S1) or the complexities of living in adult society, though he thinks he does (S1E4)?

Didn’t give him an activity: What if their grasp of English isn’t great? It’s a damn hard language to learn, and I sure as hell couldn’t pick up a second language if I was working to the bone to support my family. I’m exhausted trying to get through my 5 minutes of French on Duolingo, and I have a relatively cushy job and the benefit of an owl harassing me every few hours. Maybe they looked at the absurd camp activities and assumed they were misreading something, so they handed it over to their son (who is clearly fluent) to pick something he likes. Maybe they wanted to give him some responsibility and a sense of autonomy in deciding what he wanted to do for the summer, and he was so annoyed at being sent off to camp that he refused to do it and interpreted their hands-off nature as not caring. Maybe they were tired and just told him to pick something and it’s as simple as that, because parents are allowed to be exhausted sometimes. Just strikes me as pretty bizarre that they’d bother sending their son to a summer camp (and those things aren’t cheap, even one as not-awesome as Camp Campbell) but not be invested enough to give him the activity. Saving all year to scrape together enough money for a summer camp, sure, but filling out one line on a piece of paper? Pfft, who has time for that bullshit?

(I recognize that assuming they’re poor based on a single line about “menial labor” might seem like a bit of a stretch to some people. But honestly, to me it’s no more of a stretch than assuming that they hate or don’t care about their son, or any of the other wild theories thrown around about Max’s parents all the dang time. At least this one is relatively new.)

Sent him a sweatshirt and a short note: Again, maybe their written English isn’t great. Some people are better at a spoken language than a written one. Or maybe they didn’t have enough time to write a long note, or they knew Max wouldn’t read it (he doesn’t seem like the type to be all that into long emotional letters). Regardless, they knew to send him something he’d like that would likely be worn down by constant wear at camp. And sweatshirts aren’t cheap. Neither is mailing a package. Just seems like a surprising amount of effort to go to if they don’t care about or love him.

Sent him to Camp Campbell for the summer: Let’s say they’re poor, based on the evidence we have. It makes sense to assume that they work relatively “unskilled” jobs, or are in school, or both. Because those jobs don’t offer benefits or a lot of money, we can also reasonably assume that they either work multiple jobs, long hours, or both. They probably don’t have family in the area or even the country, and it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect neighbors or friends to take their son in all day, every day, all summer so he’s not home alone while they’re at work (especially considering he’s not all that easy to get along with). He’s familiar with the city (S3E11), so we can assume he’s grown up in an urban environment, which means he’s probably to some extent a latchkey kid. Sending him to a summer camp would get him out of the city, around people his own age, where he’d be supervised and kept busy while his parents are at work until school starts. Camps are expensive, but I imagine Camp Campbell might be the best they can afford, and they’d assume it’s better than him sitting in an empty apartment all day.

Max’s insistence they don’t care: He’s … ten years old. Not only has he made it clear that he assumes the worst of most people, including adults, but it’s also relatively common for kids whose parents worked a lot while they were growing up to interpret that busyness as a lack of interest in them. It’s hard to understand things like expenses or financial security as a kid and view it as “my parents are never around and so they don’t love me.” Hopefully when he’s older he’d appreciate everything they’ve sacrificed for him, but at 10 years old it’s expected he’d feel neglected.

I’m just saying, maybe a borderline emotionally unstable child isn’t the most reliable source, is all.

This isn’t rock solid, I realize; I’ve made a lot of leaps of logic and assumptions extrapolating from what we’ve been given. But I don’t see it as any less plausible than his parents hating him or whatever the prevailing fan theories are, and more importantly: it’s a fuck of a lot more interesting (yes, yes, in my opinion). I think adding nuance and sympathy to Max’s parents will always end up more interesting than “good David vs evil parents.”

Of course, we’re in a bit of a limbo since we don’t know necessarily where RT is going to take this. There is every chance they’re going to drop the bomb that Max’s parents are literally as bad as everyone has made them out to be – and worse. Maybe they’re actually Xemug. Fuck if I know. And if that happens, I’m gonna call it out for being the cheapest and least-interesting of the possible options. Bad, lazy writing that pits pure good against pure evil is always gonna suck, even if it comes from the writers of one of my favorite shows.

I really, really hope they don’t go with that (to finally, I guess, answer Anon’s question fully). And I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to things people hate CC for: Dolph doesn’t bother me, most of the problematic episodes don’t bother me (that pee one is still pretty rough though), but if they go the “Max’s parents are the devil and that is why Max is the way he is” route, I’m gonna … well, just be so profoundly disappointed that the showrunners could’ve done something interesting and decided instead to go for the lowest-hanging fruit, that’s all.

FINALLY:

3. This Fucking Fandom

So here’s the thing. Dad//vid is unique among the “ships” in the fandom in that it is deliberately placed as “the anti-Max//vid.” And I understand why that was done, and I appreciate it holding up that particular vanguard; max//vid has no place in dad//vid, and vice versa.

But the problem with dad//vid being set up as the not-max//vid is that everything that isn’t dad//vid is suddenly viewed as “max//vid-lite.” Even when that makes literally zero sense.

See, even when I was briefly into dad//vid in its very literal “David adopts Max from Max’s evil parents” form, what I was really drawn to was the idea of David being Max’s older brother. Back when the fandom was like 100 fics on AO3, I had started planning out this long plot involving David taking on a brotherly role to this kid I thought really needed one. Admittedly I’m just a sucker for sibling relationships, but from the beginning I’ve been all about this brotherly bond, and so when a popular artist came up with the term “bro//vid” and it started gaining traction, I was all over that noise. There was finally a version of this relationship that wasn’t either “Max and David fucking” or “David literally adopts Max and becomes his literal father,” and I couldn’t be more excited.

And then … I found out that apparently “bro//vid” was becoming synonymous with “max//vid but secretly.” And … man, it really sucked to suddenly be treated like I was supporting pedophilia because I didn’t like the idea of David-adopts-Max as much as the whole big brother thing. I can’t even imagine how much it must suck if your favorite iteration of Max and David is something along the lines of mentor/friendship, without some sort of buffer of “well they’re basically (or literally) related.” Because if “these two as brothers” is max//vid-lite, then I can’t fucking imagine what that would be called.

And even when it’s not specifically about max//vid, it just keeps cropping up. I posted about the Season 4 premiere and expressed how much I saw a cute, brotherly relationship between David and Max, and someone immediately replied saying that they thought it was more like father-son. Which … yeah, fine, I don’t care if you see it like father-son, go nuts, but I am getting really sick of the fact that father-son is the only acceptable “ship” and everything must lean in that direction, no exceptions. (I know, it’s not a ship technically, but I don’t know what else to call it. Don’t read anything weird into me calling it that.)

I don’t think “please just let me enjoy these two and their relationship dynamic without making it pedophilia or insisting David adopt Max from his terrible evil parents” is that tough an ask.

Or at least, it really shouldn’t be. But somehow it … kind of is.

And that sucks.

(Also, I hate the whole “Max is David’s favorite camper” thing. It’s not technically tied to dad//vid, but it does often come hand-in-hand with that and it just irks me to no end. If David has such blatant favorites, he is terrible at his job and kind of a douchebag. I think he gravitates towards the camper(s) who need attention the most, because he likes feeling like he’s made a difference, but I don’t think David would just straight-up pick a favorite like that, not when he has a full camp of kids who need him. Just saying.)

#in which i rant a lot #campcamp #Anonymous #i am very sorry anon #and others #if you read all of this i will give you a cookie #if it made you think i will give you a hug

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oh-mother-of-darkness · 5 years ago

Text

answers (16)

Anonymous said: A lot of these secrets are really serious and sad so heres a lighter one: me and my sister are knitting christmas socks for the whole family as a surprise. Ive never knit a pattern before but im really good!!

Amazing!!

Anonymous said: idk if your still doing this but my secret is I fear im a terrible person who only acts nice to rick people into liking her and ik that actually does make me an okay but i still feel im doing it for the wrong reasons and someones going to get too close and find out the truth and hate me

That’s very self aware of you, I think-- probably too self aware. You’re absolutely right to say it’s the trying that matters, but I’m not gonna blame you for worrying about it. I have similar concerns about myself sometimes. I’m aware that for me personally they’re partially justified. Some of my kindness is self motivated.

I think though (and it seems like you already know this) it’s the effect of the kindness that matters. Maybe it’s better for me if I have “pure” intentions, but if I don’t, I should still do the kind things anyway, right? Because at the end there’s still going to be good. And there’s nothing bad about actively trying to be good, which is all we’re doing.

Anonymous said: my secret is that ive been chasing after a dream my whole life but im not sure ill ever achieve it. times running out and i dont know what to do if i cant. i feel like my whole life has been put on standby and i dont know the way out. i know ill be okay in the end but i dont know what the end will be and that scares me.

Shit that’s relatable. You really will be okay, but it’s terrifying in the meantime, isn’t it? To have those turning points bearing down on you?

Things will happen. You can’t stop that. Time is gonna continue, but you’ll still be there at the end. Your head’s already in the right place.

Anonymous said: My secret is that I really, really like one of my friends, but he has a girlfriend and slept with one of my best friends when they were both super drunk. I want the feelings to stop and go back to being just friends, because I honestly think I don't have a chance, but there is a small part of me that doesn't want to let go. I don't know what to do.

Well that’s a bitch of a situation, isn’t it? Romantic feelings aren’t really my area, but I understand holding on to things you consciously want to let go. Emotions always feel like part of me, you know? I don’t want to tear them away. Sometimes it’s better to do it, though. I don’t know from a few sentences if that’s the case here, but I hope you find the way that’s the best for you

Anonymous said: My secret is I used to be suicidal, in my pre/early teens. I had realised I was lesbian in a small, largely Catholic town and hated myself for it. I was awful at social situations and couldn’t make friends. I hated myself for having baby fat because I danced part time. Then as I got older I slowly got more confident until one day a friend died I realised that holy shit I used to be suicidal and I could have killed myself. I’m terrified that I might get like that again and actually do it

Honestly, and I know this is gonna sound cliche, but I’m always in awe of folks like you. I don’t handle my own mental health issues super well most of the time, and to hear about someone growing? Changing? Getting better? Amazing

Anonymous said: If you're still taking these... my secret is that I don't want to give birth to children ever, and would consider adopting instead (when I'm older), but if I were to voice that to any family member or even an acquitance, they would shun me for it and make sure they try to talk me out of it. I really hate how conservative people put so many expectations on my shoulders

Heyyyyyy same. I’m not planning on birthing any kids, but my parents have come down pretty heavily on the single-women-should-not-adopt-children thing, which is.... bullshit. I’m gonna adopt some kids one day, whether they like it or not.

You know your own mind and your own plans. Other people don’t have to be happy about them, even (maybe especially) family members.

Anonymous said: My secret is that I’m a bad friend. I don’t make time for the few friends I have and spend most my time working or being in my room. They deserve better than me.

I don’t think you’re a bad friend. Not being around isn’t bad-friend behavior. You’re not hurting anyone. You’re not doing anything wrong. And I certainly don’t think that it justifies the idea that they should leave you. Relationships are always kinda a difficult balancing act, but you don’t have to be perfect at balancing it, you know?

Anonymous said: My secret is that I'm extremely self-sufficient, I've always had to be. But because there's no one else taking care of me it's so hard to invest my time in others because I'll neglect my own mental state. It make sit hard to develop stable relationships. Every once in a while I re-realize that I'm no one's priority so I have to be my own. And it just sucks.

Shit anon that’s really really rough. It makes me sad with you. I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong, because I don’t know, do I? But I hope you are.

Anonymous said: My secret is I imagine myself as OCs I create for certain fandoms like Young Justice or Castlevania, and I spend all my time daydreaming of how I would act in episodes and how I would interact with the characters. I think it’s because I’m not satisfied with my life, and I’m also afraid that this makes me either weird or crazy.

Oh biggest mood

I do that too. I’m not in a position to say whether that’s a good or bad thing, but I like to think it just makes us creative. For me, it eventually found an outlet in writing, and that’s been a big source of joy in my life. I had some unpleasant experiences sharing that stuff with people in the past, but for me? I don’t worry about it anymore. I know a lot of people that do similar stuff.

Write some fanfiction, maybe :) You might be real good at it

Anonymous said: My secret is I’m secretly attracted to people who are better than me at stuff

That’s not really my area, but seems to me that’s a pretty good thing to be attracted to. One of the sweetest things I hear around school is people talking about how their partners are going to be such good lawyers. It’s cute.

Anonymous said: My secret is that my anxiety is crushing me. I don't want to feel this way anymore.

Oh, anon. I just.... feel you. I’ve been really struggling lately with the idea that other people move through life without that handicap, and it amazes and angers me. Why don’t I get that? Why am I like this? It isn’t fair.

And it isn’t. It just isn’t. You didn’t ask to death match your brain every second of the day. You’re not any worse than everyone else, so why do you have to suffer? I don’t know. I really don’t.

The only happy thing I can say to you is people do heal. It’s bullshit that it takes so much time and effort, but it is possible. I’m better off now than I was five years ago, even if it did take five years and a whole lot of therapy, medication, and energy. You shouldn’t have to fight like this, but you can, and you can win.

Anonymous said: My secret is Im so bitter most of the time that I cant be happy for others. Me and my best friend are both singers but I can never be happy for her when she gets compliments or any success bc im jealous and im scared I'll never learn to be selfless and happy for other people

You’re only human. You have human emotions. You have every right to feel them. The only thing that matters is your choices, because that’s the only thing you can control.

I’m so sorry you’re scared. That’s another emotion you have every right to feel

Anonymous said: My secret is that sometimes I hated myself for not express what I felt because I thought they'll hate me or make distance of me but I'm learning to express my feelings to others and try to be more confidence :) I hope you'll be brave too and do whatever you want to do 💜

I wanna be anon when I grow up

Anonymous said: My secret is that my hands hurt all the time but in different ways, and I’m scared to get help because I’m scared they’ll tell me I’m making it up or being dramatic.

Man do I hate the shit people put you through to get medical help. Everybody’s entitled to ask, aren’t they? So why are we all making that difficult? Why are we making people feel bad about their own pain?

I understand your fear, but I hope you start asking questions anyway. Other people’s opinions about it aren’t your fault

Anonymous said: My secret is that my dermatillomania has gotten way worse since I got to college, so I’m having to wear headscarves again to keep myself from picking my scalp. I smuggled my scarf collection out of my room without telling my parents.

I’m sorry, anon. That’s difficult. That sucks. That’s bullshit.

Anonymous said: my secret is that when one of my family members says something homophobic I'll laugh and agree because I'm afraid that they'll disown me if there's any shred of proof that I'm LGBT and it makes me feel like such filth

That’s not your fault. It’s theirs for making you feel unsafe, because your safety really should be your first priority! That’s okay! You’re not being a bad person by doing it. You’re just protecting someone. You’re allowed to make that someone you

#some pretty heavy subjects here so #suicide #suicidal thoughts #anxiety #depression #mental illness #homophobia #if there's anything else let me know #asks #secrets

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sofiahahaaa · 5 years ago

Text

Demigod Delinquents | Pt. 8 | Percy and Mera become *Besties*

| MASTERLIST |

Summary: Percy kinda sorta pretty much spills the tea with Mera. And awhh he misses Annabeth! I miss her too. I like writing her scenes.

Rating: I don’t feel that there’s much to warn. Percy is shirtless? Ah, so scandalous... yeah, that’s it.

A/N: I know, I know, we just had Percy. But it was either Percy or Jason, and I didn’t have any good Jason ideas… so I went with Percy. Please don’t kill me. I love Jason and Leo, too, but Percy is a lot easier to write for, and he and Mera are going to have some more conversations like last chapter (oops, spoiler)... so I kinda need Percy for this one. Again, don’t kill me. Please?

~~~

Percy’s POV ~

I lay awake in bed.

Yard time had already started, but I didn’t feel like leaving. Besides, Jason had told me he would cover for me if anyone asked.

No human interaction. So unlike me.

I pretended I didn’t know why I was laying in bed instead of socializing. But I knew. It was because of the recurring nightmares. I wanted to get some restful sleep, but the nightmares came– and being awake was lonely without Annabeth. I wondered when I’d see her again.

I heard footsteps, and I sat up. Mera stood in the doorway, holding a plate of… blue cake? Blue food! Yes! “You didn’t come out.” She said calmly. I sighed.

"I can’t.” Mera raised an eyebrow in question.

“Well, I brought you a slice of blueberry cake. Jason told me you had somewhat of an obsession with blue food." I scratched the back of my neck.

“Um, yeah…" I got out of bed, only then remembering that I didn’t have a shirt on. She hid her eyes. I rolled my eyes.

“Clothes? Do you know what sleeping in clothes is?" I snickered, reaching for my orange jumpsuit.

“Alright, I’m dressed. Now to the blue food.” Mera put a hand on her hips.

“Are you going to tell me why you didn’t come out?” She stared at me. I gulped.

“Sure." I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair. "It’s because of the nightmares," I paused and looked at her. “You get them too, right?”

She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Me and my girlfriend, Annabeth– she’s amazing. You should meet her.– we fell into Tartarus. Ever since then, they’ve gotten worse. And this is the first time I’ve been so far away from her. It’s really hard to be away from her." Mera’s eyes widened. I chuckled. "Being awake is lonely and being asleep is scary. But– we’ve been fighting alongside each other since we were 12 years old… and separated I feel weak. I miss her so, so much.”

“Tartarus? Are you serious?" I bobbed my head up and down. “Oh my gods.” She seemed speechless. Then she raised a finger, like she had just figured something out. “You weren’t in a prison before this, were you?” She shook her head. “No, no. You aren’t a delinquent, not on purpose at least." I bit my lip. I wanted to go on but I knew Jason would be upset.

"It’s true. But if you tell the others," I shook my head warningly. I decided to turn the tables. “Alright. Something’s bugging you.” She had an excellent poker face, but her eyes were too easily read. "I don’t know what it is, but I see the same face I have. You’re sad. And you only lose the look when you’re having fun with Keaton or Ari." I smiled. " It has to be about family, right?” It felt like a cartoon, where a light bulb suddenly turns on above your head.

“You are smarter than you look, Percy.” She commented. I scrunched up my face.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” She smirked.

“Alright. I’ll fess up since you told me about your girlfriend.” Success! “My father was killed by mania. I... I don’t really know what that means. But it haunts me, day and night.”

“Jason has dealt with them firsthand. I know enough to be scared.” She nodded.

"I don’t know who my mother is. I’m aware that she is a Greek goddess, but so far everyone has neglected to tell me." I bit my lips again, trying not to speak. "I… I survived for what seemed like an eternity with my sister. We fought side by side, survived off each other, and shared our worries about the strange mobs that came to destroy us. We always rose to the top, though. My sister was– is, exceptional, and I was cunning. Together we could make ourselves heard.” She sighed. “But it was around a year ago that we came across the Hunters. Do you know them?" I hunched my back.

“Yes. I am a good friend of Thalia’s. I am acquainted with many of them.” Mera huffed.

“They offered us immortality if we would join their group. Swearing off boys, surviving forever. You know of this offer?" I nodded, remembering Bianca. “Yeah… She was so scared, once they told us about the monsters. She was afraid that know that we were aware, we would be overtaken. So she accepted without a doubt. She was blinded by her fear.” Mera choked up. I put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at me gratefully. “And I declined. I would not swear off boys. I didn’t want to be immortal. So I left, and I found Ari and Keaton. I recognized that they, too, were demigods. We’ve become like family. Sometimes I wonder if my sister is still alright…" I tried to comfort her.

"I saw her. I did.”

“That’s good…” She sighed. “Someday, when I meet her again– she’ll look the same as she did when she left me. And that pains me. I’ll grow older, and she’ll live eternally.”

“That’s how I feel about Thalia. I’m 17 years old. And her… she still looks about 15. The fact that she will never age–" I was at a loss for words.

“Yeah…” She smirked. “Why am I telling you this?”

"I dunno!" I admitted. “But can I take a bite of that cake?” She rolled her eyes.

“Here.” She handed me the cake, and I bit into it, devouring the whole thing in no time. "I can’t believe you just ate that in, like, a tenth of a second." I laughed.

“Get used to it." I made my bed quickly. “Alright. I’ll join you guys.” Mera smiled and we walked out.

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“About what?”

“About your mom.” She looked at me quickly, picking at her nails.

“Sure.”

“If it were me just guessing, I would say that you are a child of Athena. But– personally, it doesn’t matter. Your godly parent shouldn’t define you. And, either way, I think you’re great. So, keep that in mind.” She let the edge of her mouth curl a bit.

“Thanks. That was really nice, considering how I’ve been treating you.”

“Anytime.”

We entered the dining hall, finding our group of misfits.

“That took a long time,” Leo said, picking at his roast beef.

“Yeah…" I racked my brain for a quick excuse. “She wouldn’t give me the cake so I had to chase her.” Keaton laughed.

“Why didn’t she give you the cake?”

“‘Cause she thought I was being antisocial," I raised my hand. "I wasn’t, honest. Just… tired.” Jason caught my eye. It swirled with radiant blue like he was reading my mind. I stared right back at him, lifting my chin. Then I turned to Keaton and Leo, who were hunched together over a project of some sort. “What is it?” I asked them. Leo held up a finger.

He was stooped over a hatch in the object, tweezer in hand. He carefully plucked a bright red wire and slipped it so it made contact with a metal plate. “Yes!” He dropped the tweezers on the table. “Yes, yes, yes!” Keaton smiled and closed the hatch. “I got it, Percy!” Keaton handed me the thing.

“What is it?” I studied the exterior. It was a box, by the looks of it. He grinned.

“It’s a safecracker.”

“Don’t they already exist?” (It is totally against Leo’s principals to create something common or known)

“Yes, but this one can crack 30 digit codes, digital or traditional in under a minute. And, get this– it acts as an explosive!” I whistled.

“How’d you figure that out? And how’d you get the materials?” Leo shimmied his hands toward his toolbelt.

“First of all, I already have this baby.” He coughed. “And you’d be surprised by the number of spare wires they have around here.” Keaton bit his lip.

“Those weren’t spare wires. They were wires from the AC units in G wing.”

“Ah, minor complications. They’ll be fine.” Leo put a finger to his temple. “Actually, I didn’t give credit to this genius.” He pointed at Keaton. Keaton smiled sheepishly. “This man– I was looking for a reactor… like something to– agh! This is hard to explain. But Keaton here understood. He just thought for a moment and fished a pen out of his pocket.” Leo nodded, petting his project. “Smart guy, smart guy.” Mera giggled.

“Of course.” She patted a loose strand of Keaton’s hair down.

Keaton reached into his pocket. “Actually, I’ve been working on a whole lot of stuff with pens. They’re really useful.” He took out a normal-looking pen. “Poisoned pen knife–” He grinned as he uncapped it. The razor was one that could be taken from a pencil sharpener.

“Poisoned?” Ari questioned, taking the pen.

“Yeah. Rat poison.”

“Do you have to insert that into their system orally?” Mera said, peering over their shoulders. Keaton shrugged.

“Maybe. I’m not an expert in the poison department. It’s just an experiment…” He fished out another pen. This one was attached to an elastic rubber band and was duct-taped to an inkjet.

“Crossbow?” Jason guessed. Keaton raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Actually.”

“Ni-ice.” Leo called.

“But Leo– why did you make a safecracker?” I asked him, taking the tool into my hands again.

“Why Percy, I’m so glad you asked.” He grinned mischievously.

“Oh?”

“Yes. You’ll see tonight.” Leo tapped the box. Mera’s eyes lit up.

“You decided it was tonight?” Mera inquired, sitting down next to Keaton. Keaton drummed his fingers on the table.

“Yes! Oh, this is crazy. The moment we’ve been waiting for… for forever, practically!” I raised my eyebrows.

“Alright– I guess you guys are really excited about this… endeavor. I–” Just then, the PA crackled, and a booming voice resonated through the yard.

“We will see prisoners 120-122 and 456-458 in the Director's office. Stat.” I looked down at my uniform, watching Jason and Leo do the same. Mera, Keaton, and Ari grumbled. Their jumpsuits read 120, 121, and 122 respectively. I cursed. Mine was 456.

“Well, that’s us, I guess.” Leo licked his lips. “It was only a matter of time.” Jason’s lips tightened, but he said nothing.

“This is the third time this month.” Ari glared at the loudspeaker.

“Just go.” Mera clenched her jaw and led us forward, preparing for a blast.

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bitletsanddrabbles · 6 years ago

Text

Okay, no one’s asked, but I am well aware that I owe the world in general, @downtonabbeyandausten in particular, a doctoral thesis on Thomas. Since I can never figure out where to start and suspect I would have to rewatch the series from the beginning, taking notes the entire time, to really do a proper job of it, here’s a quick, pounded out before work overview of my favorite hedgehog-in-livery.

I’m sure there are logic holes, spelling errors, etc. I apologize in advance for that. I’m on a rather tight timeline this morning and at least the start was done before I’d had a single cup of tea.

How I feel about this character:

I've said it before, I'll say it again - there are certain characters who walk on screen or stage and immediately make me go "Oh, I'm going to like you" and that is very, very rarely wrong. In Thomas's case, they were spot on. The boy needs hugs. Lots of hugs. All the hugs. Also, he is the perfect 'Downton' character. Julian Fellows has stated that he doesn't like black and white scenarios where one person is right and the other is wrong. He prefers situations where both sides have a point and who you side with depends on who's PoV you're looking at. That's Thomas. I will not pretend that he can't be a perfect ass and that a lot of what he does is flat up nasty and wrong. However, if you look at it from his PoV, particularly from this time period where psychology has advanced a bit beyond Freud and the early behavioralists, it's pretty much all justified, all logical, and all very, very human. And it's easy to sit back and judge and say 'that was wrong' without looking further into it, but really, given his base temperament, I don't think it's at all fair or realistic to expect him to do any better and that absolutely does not make him a bad person. He's the poster child for childhood neglect, always trying to get attention through negative means, because that's generally the only time people pay attention to him. He's always fighting to find ways to get ahead, because the people who tell him things like "if you want to go forward, work hard" hire majority workers who are less capable rather than rewarding his hard work. He's a perfect example of 'you reap what you sew' not just because he tends to get his comeuppance, but because everyone around him absolutely reinforces the negative behaviors they don't like.

And he needs hugs.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Canonically? No one. The Duke of Crowborough was the first TV character I've ever spent 24 hours wanting to punch in the face and I think people who rally around him as having been used by Thomas weren't paying attention and have entirely the wrong end of the stick (seriously, look at how he treated Mary!). Pamuk was Pamuk. I did like Edward, but that one felt one sided even before I read the cut lines where Edward asked if Sybil was as pretty as she sounded. Jimmy didn't happen and he annoyed me, so I'm kinda glad about that. Sorry Thomas/Jimmy fans, but there it is. I prefer Andy as the adopted little brother/cousin/whatever the show presented him as.

Peter Pelham, of course, had potential, except that he died before they ever met. Woops. I will count him as a romantic ship I like, though, because I like AUs where this thing happened.

My personal crack relationship, although I don't think it would ever go so far as being physical, is Thomas and Dr. Clarkson. Clarkson is one of the few characters I can see being at least a bit bi and it would explain a few things about his relationship with our cranky hedgehog. Of course, in order for it to actually happen, even on a purely emotional level, Dr. Clarkson would have to admit "yeah, mostly like women, but there's been an exception or two" and for them both to get over the age difference, so not likely, but I do like the dynamic.

Also, one bit of personal psychology that I could not begin to explain if my life depended on it is my brain's insistence on trying to get him and Lady Mary in bed. Not 'straightening him out' mind. Not even doing that a little. But the idea of them sleeping together makes my muse giggle like a monkey on nitrous oxide and I Do. Not. Know. Why.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

If Thomas is the perfect "Downton" character, then Thomas and Baxter are the perfect "Downton" relationship. They both do things right, they both do things wrong, and either way, they are, from their own perspectives, completely justified in their behavior. Now, this could go terribly (I mean, worse than it did) and would have if Baxter weren't such a wonderful person, but she is a wonderful person, so it actually winds up being very rewarding to watch.

Of course, most people I've seen explore this relationship do it from Baxter's PoV, which is not surprising. It's a bit more accessible than Thomas's and involves more admirable traits. I mean, it takes a pretty good person to be persistently nice and caring to someone who is trying to strong arm you into doing something you're super uncomfortable with and threatening your job. However, she wouldn't have been there if it weren't for him, because they had a deal: he would put his job on the line by lying to his employer to get her the position if she would replace O'Brien in his life and get him the knowledge he needed to feel as powerful as everyone else in the house. Once she got there and got her side of the bargain, she suddenly started trying to back out of her side of things. I don't care who you are, feeling used like that isn't nice, and Thomas is continually - in large and small ways - feeling taken advantage of, so it got a particularly nasty response (And his PoV on the subject is black and white enough on the subject that the fact she was simply trying to find other ways to support him didn't matter, even though it is, of course, one of her admirable points). When he started threatening her job, it wasn't because he wanted to get her sacked, it was because he wanted her to go back to doing what she promised and he didn't know any other way to accomplish that. After all, the main motivators people had used on him were uneven power dynamics, bullying, and threats. That was seriously all he knew how to do. And then, when he finally reached the end of his rope on the subject and made good on those threats, he discovered she'd gone so far as to try and preserve her job by costing him his - nice payback for his getting her hired to begin with.

And while there are people who will automatically respond to that by jumping in, once again, with Baxter's PoV, for me the fact that she's the one - ultimately - who burnt that bridge is super important to her character and one of the things that made her so strong and wonderful and good, because unlike the rest of the cast who would have made excuses for why they were perfectly in the right and he was nasty and deserved it, she, being Baxter, took absolute responsibility for her actions, acknowledged that while he had been upsetting her, she had hurt him, and by gum, no matter how much he objected, she was going to rebuild that bridge or die trying. She did not insist that Thomas was doing a one man tango where his actions negatively affected those around him and needed to be altered, but the view point and actions of the rest of the world had no real affect on his happiness or behavior. She was not treating him well because she wanted to convince herself that she was a better person and more capable of goodness than he was. She was nice because she was a genuinely nice, caring person who acknowledged that she'd not handled things perfectly and wanted to make things right again.

In the end, this resulted in probably the healthiest, most supportive relationship he'd had in his entire life and damn if that's not satisfying to see.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

There are days it feels like I'm the only Thomas fan in the entire fandom who is 100% AOK with where he ended up. While it's nice to think of him with a better job and a boyfriend, I really don't think that's realistic, I think it undermines the point of the character which was to point out that locking people in closets sucks and we shouldn't do it, and I think people really undervalue the position of butler in that time period as well as Downton in general. You'll note that, after the black market fail, Thomas stopped trying to get out of service completely. That's because there really weren't many better job options. Even by the end of the series when more and more people were moving into other industries, those tended to be younger people just starting out. Thomas had the same problem a lot of people changing carriers later in life (and thinking of him as 'later in life' may seem ridiculous, but he's been in service a minimum 15 years) have. He has been in service long enough that getting a factory job or a job in a store or something similar that paid anywhere near what he was used to was minimal. While he would have developed skills that might help him starting his own business, he lacked the money to start up and didn't really have a way to get it. A medical job higher than 'orderly' is straight out. He does not have the education and in that time you weren't working your way up from the bottom in that field, which is why you had people like Lord Your-Baby's-Under-A-Cabbage-Leaf. And, of course, if he had any of those jobs he would not have paid room and board, which anyone living on their own and paying their own bills will tell you is a pretty big bonus.

Okay, but why Downton? Why couldn't he have gone on to a different, better big house? Because there wasn't one, that's why. The estates were crumbling, so jobs were getting scarce. We saw that in the series. The ones that stayed open wanted people who could fill a number of roles and Thomas didn't have the skill sets. We saw that too. I should hope I don't need to point out that he was flat out turned down for a job because the butler knew he was gay, where as Lord Grantham not only employed him, but kept him out of jail. That is a huge, screaming bonus. People get hung up on all of the ways the Downton crew handled him wrong and overlook the fact that pretty much anyplace else was going to do even worse. By the end of the series, the set up downstairs was about as supportive as he could hope for. Carson was still there, but he was on his way out. Being butler would put him equal with Mrs. Hughes and make them work together, which means she'd be far more able to observe how he works and come up with healthy ways to support him. Baxter and Andy are genuine friends and, well, Baxter in particular is Baxter.. The Bates's will likely be the cause of some friction (and of course, Mrs. Patmore frequently has the tact of a cricket bat to the face), but overall they don't want a fuss, so they won't raise one, especially after Mrs. Hughes makes it clear she doesn't like having to work with the hissing bundle of prickles that results from Mr. Bates's needling.

And of course, Downton has two - soon to be more - people who adore him beyond words and don't care about who he loves so long as they get their piggy back rides.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in:

I really would have liked to see more interaction between him and Mrs. Hughes/Sybbie. Mrs. Hughes, I suppose, is to be somewhat expected because they were both busy, but his first connection with the children was Sybbie, it was a pretty strong connection, then in season 6 it was basically preempted by George. I suspect this probably had a lot to do with earning him Mary's sympathies (which was important) and probably a bit to do with the availability of Sybbie's actress, but it still would have been nice to see.

#character ask #downton abbey #thomas barrow #this could be longer #but i need to leave in four minutes

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jenniferdiazisatransgirl · 7 years ago

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Season 4 Theory/Booth Buddies Thoughts

Hey guys, So I am gonna be careful in my plot prediction here but I’m gonna give it ago.

So firstly here are my thoughts on “Booth Buddies”. Back in school I had quite a few crushes on girls but for the most part, these crushes were less true attraction and more “I wish I could be her.” When Marco and Star were in the booth together they were expressing there feelings very differently. Star’s gut impression struck me as loud and “Just do something with your feelings” where as Marco’s description of their gut feelings was more uncertain.

It got revealed at the end of the episode the booth wasn’t even magic and that dude was just tricking them. And maybe Starco ends up being end game. The blood moon was present in this episode and Star and Marco’s cheek marks lit up. Arguably there is something there I won’t deny. But Marco does seem uncertain about something.

I mean granted, Marco hasn’t had much of a window to get with Star. Star dumped her feelings on Marco when Marco was with Jackie and then when Marco became available, Star was with Tom. Still I get this impression that Star is way more certain of her feelings, meanwhile Marco doesn’t seem to be quite as certain. And back in school, I kinda remember asking myself a lot, “Do I truly like this girl or do I just want to be her?”

I’m not gonna lie, certainly Marco does seem to have some legitimate feelings for Star, but there definitely seems to be some uncertainty there on Marco’s part too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy that little theory.

Now for Season 4. I maybe way off but something tells me this is gonna be the season Marco comes out as trans. Sabrina Cotugno is the director and they only recently finished Season 3 fully. Chances are that the latter episodes aren’t even being boarded yet and they have a chance to get round Disney’s censors. Interestingly enough though, I realised I misread something a few months back. At a panel at CalArts back in September, Daron said Disney rarely contribute to Star being a flawed female lead but tend to make a lot of suggestions regarding Marco’s feminine side. Whether these are positive or negative suggestions this isn’t stated. So who knows maybe Disney are pushing for Marco to be more feminine.

Also SVTFOE is being moved to Disney Channel and although there is a large overlap in the target demographic of Disney XD (9-14) and Disney Channel, Disney Channel (9-16) does target a slightly older side of the demographic and for reference Andi Mack that features Disney first canon LGBT character who is part of the main cast airs on Disney Channel. The change in channel strikes me that the show is going to begin to deal with more controversial themes and also give the show more freedom in terms of what can make it past the censors. Interestingly enough the change in channel also quite neatly matches up with Marco and Star turning 15, meaning many of the issues that will start to face will be above the target demographic of Disney XD.

Now the question I need to ask, why oh why is Marco still wearing the Princess Marco outfit?

Firstly, it isn’t even their colour. Marco makes this very clear in the book. Secondly, in “Princess Turdina” Marco says how they find that corset downright uncomfortable. So why Marco would you go into battle in this outfit. It doesn’t make sense, it really doesn’t.

BUT for nearly 2 season now we trans Marco theorists, especially @breastforce and @marcodiazisatransgirl who were doing this before me, have been collecting evidence backing up the theory that Marco Diaz is a closeted trans girl and somewhere between Season 2 and the first episode of Season 3 airing, the crew became aware of this theory. Meaning they now have all that evidence too, meaning if they wished to make Marco canonically trans they have a lot ammunition to back that up with.

Now early in Season 2 in “Mr Candle Cares”, Marco expresses how they’d love to be Queen. It comes off as a gag at first but then they go into some detail about what this would entail. They have given this a fair bit of thought. Odd.

In “Red Belt”, Marco has a stuck in life dream. They are horrified to find themself buried in a suit. Also odd.

“Heinous”, Marco wants to keep wearing the dress even after Heinous has left.

In the book “Star and Marco’s Guide To Mastering Every Dimension”, Marco expresses that the Princess Marco dress isn’t their colour yet they continue to wear this thing, a dress that isn’t even their style. Marco also says how they are jealous of the fact Pony Head has no legs as it means she doesn’t have to make a pants decision every morning like Marco does. Marco makes the agonising decision of wearing the same pair of pants every single morning except for on special occasions. Something doesn’t sit right there.

And in “Princess Turdina”, Marco finally reveals the corset is hell to breath in.

And I have largely focused on the dress and Marco’s clothing choices here for the point I wish to make. But Marco repeatedly shows discomfort in their body. Don’t get me started on “Running With Scissors”, it is my favourite episode for trans Marco theory evidence and I can write a bleeding essay on it. And as for liking feminine things not making you a girl, I agree and have you seen Nachos and some of Marco’s more masculine interests. Even if Marco is trans, they totally wouldn’t be all girly girl I don’t reckon. Also just a final clothing point, Marco has a super bland wardrobe. Star switches up her outfits a lot, Marco is just red hoody, brown converse and grey/black jeans day in day out.

It seems established though Marco doesn’t particularly like the princess outfit though. It isn’t them. However Marco must like it for some reason and two things we do know, Marco finds wearing it liberating and they feel beautiful in it. Marco looking at the statue in “Princess Turdina”.

And here is the interesting thing, the point that really gives me power in shooting down the cis Marco theory or feminine Marco theory. The argument, “Marco is just a guy comfortable in expressing his feminine side.” I’ve been able to shoot this down in many ways before such as Marco’s insecurities, etc. But here is one I have to say, one that I really thinks seals it. If Marco were so comfortable in expressing their feminine side, why not get a comfier outfit? One that is in their colour and one without the constricting corset. Marco could ask Star if they could borrow an outfit, Marco certainly has the cash to buy an outfit from the shop or online if need be. Yet Marco does none of this and I think the reason being is it would raise too many questions.

Marco has this convenient reason to keep the Princess Turdina dress. If Janna is going through Marco’s stuff, there if an explanation. Marco can always give a convenient excuse for having that one outfit around. Even now Marco can argue they were asked to pose for some more Princess Turdina merchandise.

And okay, I’m gonna correct myself a little, this doesn’t 100% shoot down Marco being cis. Maybe Marco is cis and does like expressing their feminine side but they are scared of how the world will judge them. They have a convenient excuse for the Princess Turdina outfit but not others. I’m a trans Marco theorist though and my plot prediction is gonna focus on that.

So in “Divide” and “Conquer” Marco resumes the Princess Turdina persona and this promo was also released on the Trans Day of Visibility which is beyond interesting. Their now ceases to be a clear reason as to why Marco would keep up this persona, my only explanation here is Marco feels more comfortable presenting as female.

I haven’t really enjoyed this Season. Marco has been immensely off character. I have had a theory for a while though and it related back to Angie saying that Marco needs their own “French Summer”. Marco needed a chance to find themselves and I think the reason Marco has been so off this Season is cos that is what Marco has been doing. Finding their true self and do you know something, Marco has been such a horrible character this season. A bad friend, a bad son, a bad boyfriend and just in general a bad character. And all these have lead to their own individual climaxes. Jackie and Marco breaking up and Marco not fighting for her, Marco ignoring their parents and neglecting to realise they had a baby brother on the way, Marco not being a great squire or friend to Star (”Night Life” and “Trial by Squire”), Marco not being a great friend to their friends on Earth (”Sophomore Slump”) and Marco being a bad boyfriend to Kelly and a bad friend to Tom, kissing Star in “Booth Buddies”.

And I believe Marco to be a good character, I believe all this to be building up inside of Marco and I like to think kissing Star was kinda the icing on a very bad cake, the icing that will make Marco question, “Why am I doing all this crap?” And look, I would love Marco to come out in the Season 3 finale, but I don’t this will happen but if on the off chance Disney has okayed a trans Marco storyline for Season 4, my theory is that Marco has finally put the pieces together. My theory is Marco has figured out they are trans and Marco dressing as Princess Turdina in “Divide” and “Conquer” is the first step out of the closet. I mean, even if Marco doesn’t say why they are dressing as Princess Turdina still, it is certainly going to invite some questions. And my theory is, that is the set up, Marco dressing as Princess Turdina as a means to push their friends to ask Marco the question, “Why? Why do you continue to dress like a princess Marco?” And that Season 4 picks up the trans Marco storyline from there.

I maybe way off, but I hope you enjoy my little theory/plot prediction. Let me know what you think.

EDIT: I got it wrong about Kelly and Marco being together. They’ve just seemed awfully close lately. The rest of my point still stands though and regardless Kelly was clearly Marco’s plus one at that wedding.

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man-i-dont-know · 7 years ago

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BNHA Chapter 175 & 176: Thoughts and Spoilers

Hello, I am back. Sorry the last couple weeks were busy. Anyway, I am really loving these two chapters so lets get right into it.

Preparation for the festival continues, and Deku still really can’t dance. We see a cute Eri and by now y’all probably decided that it was Aizawa doing her hair, and I agree (the dudes got some long locks himself, he knows how to do hair I can guarantee that). The class has made some serious progress and they are all nervous/hyped for the festival. Then a little bit of plot happens, Deku realized some of the ropes that will support the disco bal- ahem - Aoyama, are frayed and they need new ones. Deku says he’ll go out and get some new ones after his morning training (nothing will go wrong I’m sure). Kaminari notes that Deku will be cutting it close with training, shopping and prepping for the festival. So finally, the day of the festival arrives.

Hatsume hasn’t slept or bathed in a week and runs out into the woods to find Deku to give him his modified gloves (and damn they are stylin’). The sytlin’ aspect is actually something Mei consciously had in mind when she made it, which amazed me because all of her previous “babies” have been just straight up robots, but this time she had Deku’s hero costume in mind when she developed it. Mei is going to be a top-class hero support... uh.. person? Is there a title for it? Engineer? Something like that.

Deku is running a tad late because he was working with the gloves so much, but now he is going to get the ropes. He passes some of the festival which is nice to see that it is all coming together. He falls even further behind because the store he was thinking of was not selling any ropes that would work. At precisely 8:30, Deku bumps into two very suspicious individuals coming out of an alley. This oddly... gentle... individual diverts his path away from Deku and mentions something about a high-end brand of tea. Deku recognizes the brand as the one Momo so graciously served Class 1-A the other day. The mention of tea got this suspiciously suave individual’s attention and started a conversation without thinking. Then, legitimately, the scene gets tense. They start to piece together who each other are. “A high-class student,” “a suspicious character linked with tea,” “a student in the UA area,” “a familiar voice,” “he is a student at UA!” “He is Gentle!” Cue all black panel with Gentle and Deku staring each other down. I loved this sequence for a couple reasons: 1.) neither character is stupid, they’ve deduced who the other is very quickly with minimal interaction, 2.) other shows or stories keep characters in the dark about simple stuff for ages just for tension, whereas here nothing was kept hidden for long, but maximum tension was reached in three pages, 3.) the characters aren’t dumb! I can not stress that enough! God I love seeing characters figure thing out like normal human beings, it is so refreshing to see, 4.) and both characters are taking the other very seriously (more about that later).

Deku then does something that I adore, he asks Gentle to stop. Straight forward and honest, he leaves Gentle open to several options, one of which is dropping the idea and leaving entirely. It also speaks volumes of Deku’s character, despite being a hero confronted with a known villain, his first instinct is a peaceful resolution, not a fight. He does not instigate a fight, such a peaceful kid (despite how freaking crazy he is during his fights). The chapter ends like this, with a small counter saying the performance will take place in an hour and twenty-eight minutes.

The next chapter starts with Gentle admitting that Deku outted him, and Deku checks to see if there are any civilians on the street to worry about. I love that small gesture cause that is something that is typically neglected in stories, bystanders and if they are in harms way. Deku determines that they only thing now is to prepare for a fight. gentle has the same idea, whips off his disguise and tells Brava to start filming and not to stop under any circumstances. Gentle starts with a flourish and poses for the camera, Deku lunges, and basically hits one of those saran wrap pranks where it is pulled across a door frame. This saran wrap however is incredibly elastic and launches Deku backwards at high speeds. Gentle confirms that his quirk is elasticity, which is similar to what I imagined, so I am glad one of my theories was close to the mark. Gentle actually seems very surprised by the sheer force that Deku was launched at, meaning that he doesn’t put any force into his quirk at all, all the bounce comes from outside force (makes sense in this cause Deku was using Full Cowl). The distance that Deku was launched intimidates Gentle, saying that if the kid could withstand that, he must have some serious power behind him. Coming to that conclusion, Gentle and Brava book it.

Deku gets up and chases them further, Gentle sets up a trampoline and bounces Deku into the air so they can get further away. Gentle takes this moment to talk to Deku, saying that he understands Deku’s desire for the festival to go well, but Gentle is prioritizing his attack over the students having fun, which as a villain should be a given, but Gentle doesn’t really give off the villain vibe. Gentle and Brava make another dash for it, and Brava recognizes Deku from the sports festival, saying that he was “the crazy boy who fought by destroying his arms.” Gentle then gives a face of comedic fear, and I love it, Deku’s madman reputation is giving people pause now, I love that he is scaring the crap outta people he hasn’t even meet yet. Something similar occurred kinda recently in One Piece, I might write a post about that later. Anyways, Deku is tumbling through the air. He is remembering a conversation he had with Eri, and how she is looking forward to the dance party (THIS WAS SAID WHILE ERI WAS TRYING TO SMILE AND IT WAS SO SWEET I BECAME PHYSICALLY ILL THEN I LOOKED AT IT MORE). Deku is also remembering helping Jirou compile a load of notes she took for the other band members. She had notes on par to Deku’s hero notes, and Deku was thrilled cause originally he thought Jirou had a favorite hero she wanted to take notes on (Deku’s reaction to this was not like himself, much more like a friend’s though I can’t really place whose, Iida maybe? Either way, friends are rubbing off on each other). It is shown later Tokoyami using those notes, and its implied that Bakugou has already read it, which makes sense with his academic jock vibe.

This is all to show that Deku absolutely can not allow Gentle to get anywhere near to UA. Deku is about to launch a midair attack, remembers his training with All Might and comments about dancing from Mina. This combination allows Deku to fire off an air blast while upside down to stall Gentle. Deku immediately catches up with a Full Cowl jump and sends both of them into a construction site. And that is where the chapter ends, but I’ve got a couple other thoughts I’d like to share.

So there are a couple things I absolutely adore when some elements are included in a story. One of which is recognition. Not like a character starts off well known, but when a character works hard and somewhere during the story you realize, oh crap, this character is really well known now. Deku is getting there and you’ve got no idea how much that hypes me up. The implications of this fight with Gentle could launch Deku even further into the public eye. If Deku defeats Gentle, that will be the first villain Deku took down without help. On top of that, the whole thing will be recorded, meaning Deku will have to learn a lesson or two about camera awareness or at least he has to acknowledge the celebrity aspect of heroing. I would love for Deku to get interviewed or something, maybe we see a new article about him or something. Plus, imagine this: Deku starts to develop a fan club. Of course Eri and Kouta are the founder and president of the club, but imagine Deku getting recognized in public positively (we’re just gonna forget about Shigaraki “recognizing” Deku in the mall). To sum it up, Deku is moving up in the world, and there is some major potential for him to get his name catapulted into the pro-hero world.

The other thing I absolutely love is when opponents recognize each other as strong enemies. Far too often villains are so egotistical that they refuse to see the possibility that their adversary could beat them, even if they have already been beaten. A fight where both sides realize they can lose makes the fight 100x more tense, and this is what is happening here. Gentle is legitimately wary of the strength that Deku wields, and Deku is the cautious type by nature, so of course he too is aware of how this situation could be very bad. A fight between equals is sooooo good. Those are two of things I love seeing in stories, I got a couple others, but those are the ones that apply to this chapter.

That should be about it. Thank you for taking your time to read this whole long thing. I am thinking that I might try to diversify this blog to some other stories as well (anime, movies, etc.), though I have been busy recently so I am not sure how that would work out. I’ll figure it out later. Again, thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day.

#bnha spoilers #bnha thoughts #deku midoriya #bnha gentle #la brava #erichan #jirou kyouka #mei hatsume #all might

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d0gdaze · 7 years ago

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Also on AO3

Chapters: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . (ongoing)

Reddie / Stenbrough

Word Count: 3117

Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is set up on a date with a friend of a friend, and this Tozier guy is a hot mess. || Stan has feelings. Bill is confused. Long and angsty and may or may not contain a roadtrip. AU - no IT. Characters are 17/18. Set in early nineties. More film based but contains elements from the miniseries and the book.

-Chapter 2-

Richie had insisted to pay for all the tickets when they got to the cinema, and was greeted with a halfhearted protest from everyone except Beverly, who smugly took up the offer. They were now all standing in front of the confectionary bar, deciding on which snacks to buy. Richie and Eddie were standing together, far enough away from the others that they could talk without them hearing, but close enough that Eddie still felt comfortable.

Richie had been staring at the selection in front of him for several minutes at this point, a concentrated look on his face, mulling over each option in his head carefully. Eddie had the same order since he was ten years old, a medium diet coke and a pack of MnM's, things he only got to indulge in on rare occasions as his mother would never allow those sorts of food at home, and the transaction was promptly fulfilled when they arrived. But Richie had yet to make any sort of decision, and it was really starting to annoy Eddie, who had already downed almost half of his drink.

“You're gonna miss the start of the movie if you don't hurry up,” Stan called out to them, starting to head towards the theatre with Bill and Beverly, all with armfuls of sugary food and drinks. Richie held a finger up to them, “Shush you, this is a very important decision and you are breaking my concentration.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and watched the three of them disappear around a corner. To his relief, Richie finally stepped towards the counter, asking the cashier for a “large popcorn and coke, if you would, my dear,” and whipped his head around to wink at Eddie, who was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Hope you like popcorn Eds.”

Eddie did not like popcorn, the butter made his hands and face feel greasy and it always got stuck in his teeth, but he was glad that he had finally made a decision and they could go in and watch the movie, and not talk for an hour and a half, so he smiled politely and shrugged.

Eddie spotted the other three as they entered the theatre, sitting up in the back row on the balcony with their feet up on the chairs in front of them. He instinctively went to go join them, but Beverly shook her head at him, and he remembered that he was supposed to be on a date. Richie had already gone a few rows ahead and was shuffling past people to get to the middle of the row. Eddie followed him, apologising to the people he had to push past. Richie fell down into the chair, popcorn bucket in his lap, and patted the seat next to him. “Take a seat, love.”

Eddie sat down in his assigned seat, clenching his hands together in his lap, sitting up as straight as he could, looking at the screen and pretending to be interested with what was playing. They had only missed about a minute and a half of the beginning of the film, and the opening credits were still rolling. His mind was completely occupied though. He could see Richie looking at him from the corner of his eye, and he was only glad that it was too dark to see that he was blushing real hard.

Halfway through and Eddie had not been able to focus on the movie at all. Too many thoughts were running in this head, and he kept glancing at Richie whenever he thought he wouldn't notice. Richie had been enjoying himself, laughing out loud at some of the jokes, and leaning forward in his seat during the more intense chase scenes. Though he was also thinking about Eddie, trying to plan out different moves he could make in his head. He had noticed him looking over every now and then, and had tried hard to pretend he hadn't noticed. He honestly kinda liked this kid, even if he was pretty skittish and hadn't really said much to him at all. Of course he was aware of this stuff before he met him, given a crash course by Bill over the phone, the day before he arrived. He only wished Eddie started to open up a bit more, and not feel as nervous around him.

He noticed Eddie's hands weren't glued together anymore and were resting loosely on his lap, the now empty MnM packet was sitting on the arm of the seat, folded rather than crumpled up. Richie laughed quietly to himself. God, even his rubbish was neat.

He rested his elbow on the chair arm dividing Eddie's seat and his own. Then slowly moved his hand over, only a little at a time. And finally reached and took Eddie's hand gently. When Eddie didn't pull away, he started to intertwine their fingers, and held his hand properly, running his thumb over the other's. After a hesitant moment, Eddie did the same.

Fucking hell, what am I doing?

Eddie couldn't think of anything except the feeling of his hand entwined in Richie's. His hands felt so small compared to Richie's. His stomach felt like it was doing somersaults, and he could practically hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. His face was cold and burning at the same time. He was sure he looked like a tomato right now. Richie seemed so calm, like this was no big deal, while Eddie's whole body was freaking out. He had to stop himself reaching for his inhaler.

Yet, the rhythm of Richie's thumb running over his, eventually started to calm him down

They held hands for the rest of the movie, which he had completely given up on. He knew he wouldn't be able to recall a single part of it later.

The stood up as the end credits started to roll and the lights went up, and headed towards the exit. Bill, Bev, and Stan were waiting eagerly out the front, and they all had to do a double take when they saw the two boys walking out together, holding hands, for gods sake. How in the world did Richie get Eddie to hold his hand?

Eddie honestly had forgotten when they joined up with the group.

“So, you t-two are obviously getting along then,” Bill asked with a cocky look on his face. Richie smiled down at Eddie, who looked sort of puzzled. He looked at their hands locked together and his eyes went wide, ripping his away quickly, and Richie's face changed to surprised, and maybe even a little hurt. Eddie suddenly felt really bad for doing it.

“Like the movie?” Stan cut in before things escalated past that point.

“Best I've seen in a while, actually,” Richie chirped. And they all started discussing it, talking about their favourite scenes. Eddie stayed silent spare the occasional laugh or exclamation in agreement.

They all stood outside on the footpath for twenty or so minutes, until Bill looked up and stated it was getting cold.

“Alright, well let's head on home,” Beverly said. Richie reached into his pocket and grabbed his car keys, throwing them to Bill, who wasn't expecting it and almost dropped them.

“You guys can drive the truck home, I'm gonna walk back with Eds.” Bill raised his eyebrows at him.

“You okay with th-that, Eddie?”

Eddie looked at him, then up at Richie, then closed his eyes for a moment. He exhaled sharply.

“Yeah, sounds fine.” He forced a smile, and Richie looked down at him fondly, and a little shocked he actually agreed.

“Okay, see you guys tomorrow then!” Beverly called over her shoulder as the three of them made their way over to the truck, Bill swinging the keys around his finger.

“If anything happens to my baby, Denbrough, I'm breaking one of your legs!” Richie shouted as they climbed in. Bill waved out the window.

Richie and Eddie watched them drive out of sight, up the street and turning left at the intersection, and then started to walk in the same direction.

They walked in silence for five minutes. Richie kept opening his mouth to say something, but could think of nothing.

A breeze flew in, and Eddie wrapped his arms around himself. Goosebumps appeared on his arms. Hypothermia. He is going to get hypothermia.

Richie noticed Eddie shivering and stopped in his tracks. “Fuck, you must be freezing,” he slipped off his denim jacket and put it over Eddie's shoulders. “There.”

“But you've only got a t-shirt on now, you'll be cold.” He started to shrug the jacket off. “No seriously, take it, I'm all good!”

Eddie looked at him for a while, studying him carefully. The jacket had made him look a lot buffer, so seeing his lanky, pale arms jutting out from the oversized t-shirt sleeves was a little surprising, and even made him look a bit less intimidating. Slowly, he slipped his arms into the jacket sleeves. It had been a few sizes too big on Richie, and Eddie was basically buried in it. The sleeves fell past his fingertips and it came down to his mid thighs. And warm, so warm. Richie melted at the sight, staring with a big, stupid grin on his face.

“Gee, could get used to that view,” he sighed.

Eddie turned his face away from Richie, flustered, and continued walking up the street. Richie watched him for a moment, then jogged to catch up.

Eddie had rolled the sleeves up enough so his hands were free.

They walked the rest of the way to Eddie's house in silence, hand in hand, Eddie feeling much more comfortable than before.

They stopped walking when they reached the gate to his front yard. Eddie started to take the jacket off but Richie stopped him. “You can keep it, for now.”

“Oh,” he paused. “Why?”

Richie shrugged. “Gives you a reason to see me again.”

“Oh.”

“That is, if you wanted to see me again?”

Eddie hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Richie grinned at him. “Well okay then,” he reached his hand towards Eddie, “was a pleasure.” Eddie shook it, and turned toward his house, giving Richie one last glance over his shoulder as he walked down to his front door.

Richie stood and watched him for a moment, then, as Eddie was halfway to the door, he called out.

“Hey Eds, wait a moment.”

Eddie stopped and turned back around, eyebrows raised. “Hm?”

Richie half-jogged over and stood right in front of him, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy's waist.

“What are you-” he was interrupted with Richie's mouth pressed against his. He pushed him away, and Richie had to catch himself so he didn't fall.

“Dude, what the fuck!” he whisper-yelled, checking back over his shoulder, making sure his mother couldn't see them. Luckily, all the curtains were closed and there wasn't any sign of movement in the house.

Richie was taken aback, and confused. “Are you serious? I thought we had a good night?”

“You don't just- you don't just do that to people you just met,” he spat out, and fumbled for his inhaler. “Fuck, fuck, fu-,” he brought the inhaler to his mouth and pressed down, breathing in sharply, then breathing deeply a few times until his chest started to feel less constricted. He collapsed onto his knees on the grass, holding a hand over his mouth. Richie stood over him, unsure of what to do. Eddie felt tears welling up behind his eyes and tried his hardest to hold them back. Richie knelt down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Eddie shrugged him off.

“You need to go,” he choked out. The tears started to fall then, he couldn't help it. “Eds, I-” “Don't fucking call me that.” Eddie didn't look up, or move at all. He could see tears falling down into the grass. Richie stayed there, staring at him for a minute or so, then turned and walked off.

“Whatever, man. Fuck this,” Eddie heard him mumble as he left.

Eventually he got up and went inside, tiptoeing up the stairs, hoping desperately that he wouldn't wake up his mother. He shut the door to his bedroom and fell face first onto the bed. He sobbed for a while, attempting to muffle the noise in his pillow. When he ran out of tears he turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. There were glow in the dark stars above his bed, that he had stuck there when he was much younger and had never bothered to take down.

Fuck.

He was still wearing the stupid jacket.

He sat up and tore it off, throwing it onto the floor. He figured he would just give it to Bill and he could pass it on to Richie.

Fucking Richie.

Eddie held his knees close to his chest and put his head down.

Fucking RICHIE.

Surely he wasn't making a big deal out of it, right? I mean, people don't kiss each other when they've only just met... Do they? Not like he would know anything about that.

He did actually enjoy the night, up until the end. Well, enjoyed the parts where he wasn't too busy being flustered or annoyed or terrified by this person, who insisted on sharing popcorn and smiled too much and held his hand, why did he let him hold his hand? And who let someone else drive his car so he could walk home with him. And who kissed him only a few hours after meeting him. The first person to ever kiss him.

Eddie ran his fingers over his lips.

He could remember exactly how he kissed him. He traced the outline of where Richie's lips were, his fingertips barely touching his face. A shiver went down his spine.

The first person to ever kiss him.

And he fucking freaked out. Like he freaks out about everything. And how nothing good could ever happen to him because he ruins it before it has a chance.

He started to regret the way he reacted. He pulled at his hair, wishing he could go back an hour, start again, do it differently.

He stood up from bed and grabbed Richie's jacket. He looked at it in his hands for a moment, trying to figure out what he was about to do.

Richie had found his way to Bill's house rather easily. He had gotten his keys back and was sitting on the hood of his truck, music quietly pouring from the radio. He had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, his second one since he had been sitting there. He was cold, and he started to wish he hadn't given his only jacket away.

What was that kid's deal anyway?

Richie didn't know what to think about everything that had happened. Part of him felt pissed off, the other part of him felt quite upset. Bill had warned him that Eddie would be nervous, but he had still assumed he at least wanted to go out with him. Instead, it was as if he was just being forced to do it. And he did actually think he was cute.

Richie took a long drag of his cigarette. Shouldn't have got my fucking hopes up.

He finished off the cigarette and jumped off his truck, dropping the butt on the ground and putting it out with his shoe. He decided it had gotten too cold to be out, so he turned to head into Bill's house. He had organised to sleep on the couch for a couple nights until Bill's parents got home. From there, well, he would just have to figure it out. Probably couch hop around, sleep in his truck some nights, maybe he could even find a shitty enough motel for a night or two.

He kept his eyes down as he walked around and reached in the window to turn off the radio.

“Hey.”

He swung his head around, expecting to see Bill, but was surprised to see Eddie standing in front of him, wearing a dark blue sweatshirt over his outfit from that night, Richie's denim jacket hung over his shoulder.

Richie turned to face him fully, leaning up against the side of his truck.

“I just- you should have this back.” Eddie pushed the jacket towards him, and he took it, putting it on without much hesitation.

“Thanks for that, I expect you washed and ironed it before returning it, I can tell y'know.” Richie pretended to inspect the jacket, mouth upturned. Eddie laughed, but stopped when he made eye contact with Richie, looking away.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Eddie asked.

“It's like every time you smile, as soon as I look at you, you stop. You get – embarrassed, or something. Like, fuck dude,” he sighed.

“I- I don't know.” Eddie forced himself to make eye contact. “I didn't know I was doing it-”

“Because you're actually fucking cute, when you laugh-” Eddie swallowed hard. Richie shoved his hands into his pockets. “It's fine if you don't- like me, or whatever, but-” he could see that Eddie was starting to look uncomfortable.

Richie shook his head at himself. “Never mind, it's fine. Thanks for bringing the jacket back I guess.”

He pulled the box of cigarettes from his pocket and took one, putting it between his lips and reached back in for his lighter.

Eddie watched him carefully as he lit the end of the cigarette and pulled on it, waiting a moment before letting the smoke pour out his mouth. He eventually moved so he was standing next to Richie. Richie didn't protest, in fact neither of them said anything. They just stood together for a while. Richie finished the cigarette and went for another one. Before he could light it, Eddie stepped back up onto the pavement, giving him enough height to pull him by the collar into a kiss, his eyes shut tight. Richie was caught off guard, but he slowly melted into it. He grabbed Eddie's waist and pulled him closer, and Eddie wrapped his arms around his neck, tangling his fingers into Richie's hair.

They made out against Richie's pick-up truck for a considerable amount of time, pausing every now and then to just look at each other's faces, and then fall back into each other. A car drove past and beeped at them, and Richie flipped them off without taking his attention off Eddie.

Bill discovered the two of them on his couch the next morning, Eddie lying on top of Richie, face buried in his neck, and Richie's arms wrapped around him.

#writing #reddie #stenbrough #reddie fanfic #stenbrough fanfic

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