#i dont think i can ever excuse it i dont know
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HOW SWEET (teaser)
18+ / mdi
summary: after years of an unspoken fight between you and your self-proclaimed enemy, you find yourself forced to work with your life-long rival, kim mingyu, as your father offers him a position at the family bakery. with such forced proximity and endless arguments, how are you supposed to cater to your duties when mingyu's presence brings so much tension to the kitchen?
content: baker!mingyu, enemies to lovers, pining, one sided crush that becomes two sided!, afab reader, smut, teasing, semi public sex (its done in a public establishment but no one is there), breast play, food play (frosting on tits basically), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1.2k (teaser); 8.4k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: december 20th
or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!
a/n: i dont think ive ever actually done enemies to lovers so i hope i did the trope justice!!
masterlist | patreon
Twelve years.
Twelve years dedicating yourself to your craft, attending summer camps, taking elective classes, paying for extracurricular classes, working summers at your dad's place, making all effort known to man, yet this is how it all ended.
Maybe claiming this to be the end was slightly dramatic, but that's how it felt at the moment. As you stared up at your dad and the excuse of a man standing next to him, far too cocky for you to allow your anger yo subside.
Today had been an average day. Throughout your life, you were content to admit that most of your days could be categorized as good, especially after years of having found comfortable employment at your father's renown bakery soon after high school (thank you nepotism). Attending culinary school whilst managing a part-time job at your dad's place had been anything but difficult. It was quite an easy and enjoyable job, one in which you could proudly say you'd had the chance to grow up in.
Your father had owned the place since before you could even walk, building it up to become a favorite in your city. Business was always booming, and it just so happened to fulfill your passion for baking — one which your dad had obviously passed down to you, but you weren't complaining. You occasionally took up shifts during high school, only becoming a full-fledged part-time employee during university, recently graduating and upgrading to full time. Life was good and steady.
So, it was fair to say that most of your days were good.
However, there was the occasional day that was ruined by the mere presence of a particular individual.
You hadn't meant to dislike him as much as you did. Anyone who knew you could vow for your likable personality and charismatic demeanor, meaning it was difficult for you to bump heads with people (at least most of the time). But there was just one particular person who made your blood boil from the day you met him. It had been so long ago, you couldn't date back the moment — nor the instance — in which your dislike had begun brewing. Fortunately, the dislike was completely mutual. You didn't have to feel like an asshole for scowling at the man any time you saw him, because you were usually met by a mirror of your expression or an annoyingly frustrating smirk — similar to in this moment.
The frustrating man in question was none other than Kim Mingyu, the resident heartthrob and well known for his passion and talent for baking. Hatred for the insufferable man aside, his abilities as a baker, and chef in general, could not be denied. The mere implication of praise made you gag, but you liked to think you were mature enough to admit talent when you saw it. This was something you'd never verbalize, however, knowing the man to also be one of the cockiest people you'd ever met.
There were a myriad of reasons as to why your current predicament ruined not only your day, but likely many upcoming ones. The main reason could be boiled down to the smile on Mingyu's face as he stood to your father's side. The cockiness emitting from him was enough to get your blood boiling and to create a carnal desire within you to beat him to a pulp.
The reason for his smile, however, was what truly took the cake.
Within the past moments in which you'd been processing your father's words, you remained silent and stagnant before them, leading your father to repeat the cursed sentence once more.
"Mingyu's going to be working with us from now on," he'd said with an innocent smile on his face, unknowing of your feud with the man in question.
Everything had come crashing down in that moment, but any more silence from you would mean Mingyu won this round, which was something you simply could not have — even under these circumstances.
Shaking all the anger and hateful memories from your head, you straightened your back and morphed a smile onto your face, one good enough for your dad to buy and for Mingyu to be unable to judge. Your hand extended as a courtesy, offering itself to Mingyu as a form of welcome, something which your father likely expected from you.
"In that case, welcome to the team," you spoke for the first time, sweetly enough to grant you a satisfied smile from your father. The poor man was blissfully unaware of your dislike for Mingyu, so no blame really fell on him for his blind decision.
Grasping your hand in his larger one, Mingyu shook hands with you, satisfied smile still on his face, "Looking forward to working with you," he said, far too content for you to not want to take him out back and-
"I know you kids already know each other from back when you were in school, so it should be easy for you to show him the ropes, right, kid?", asked your dad, interrupting your violent thoughts.
Your head whipped to him, "Show him the ropes?"
"Yeah. I was thinking you could train him? He's already an amazing baker, but maybe he should shadow you for a few weeks. You know, just in case," your father clarified.
Mingyu's close-lipped grin grew wider somehow, almost as if the knowledge of your discomfort at being around him overpowered his own dislike of your presence.
"Uh, yeah. Sure, dad," you found yourself agreeing against your will.
Your dad clapped his hands once in satisfaction, then proceeding to patting your back in encouragement as he tended to do.
"Thanks, kid. Well, I'll leave you two to it," he then turned to Mingyu, "Welcome to the team, son. Y/N here will show you where you can get your apron and give you a general overview of the place before your first day tomorrow," and with that, he made his exit.
Behind, he left a fuming you and an overly pleased Mingyu. Silence filled the room for a few moments until you found it vital to curse out the infuriating boy in front of you.
But, as per usual, he beat you to it.
"Happy to see me, cupcake?"
God damnit. You forgot about the annoying nicknames he'd insisted on calling you by since meeting back in high school.
Cupcake, baby, sweetheart, sweetiepie, babe, honey, darling. And these were the more tame ones. You did not want to think about the instances in which he'd called you hot stuff or sexy in public. They'd led to public displays of aggression you weren't exactly proud of.
"I thought you were studying culinary abroad. What happened? Got yourself kicked out?," you grumbled, walking over to the back of the restaurant with him following close by.
"Nope. Just decided my expertise could be used back home. And clearly since you seem to be the best they got around here."
It was as if he was allergic to not bugging the shit out of you.
You turned to face him, blinking harshly at the unexpected proximity before taking a step back and responding to his smirk with a frown, "Listen, Mingyu. You heard my dad. I'm in charge of you. If you disregard my authority, I won't hesitate to send your ass running. Do you understand?"
This made his grin grow bigger for some reason. Knowing he was getting under your skin was great for his entertainment.
"Yes, ma'am," he bit his lip in amusement.
...
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#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#mingyu scenario#mingyu oneshot#mingyu fanfic
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hi there; first, thank you for making this blog and all the lessons you do, i really appreciate them as a Black person because it highlights a lot of struggles i face with fandoms in general, and why i dont interact more in certain spaces. it makes me feel seen
with regards to your questions, i'd also like answers to them from nonblack fans, especially nonblack anime fans. i don't even mean consuming anime with overtly racist caricatures of black characters (because numerous anime fans pirate their anime and never send a cent to the creators anyway), i mean how can they make fanworks of it?
how can they look at something that they are told is wildly offensive, but then defend with "well, this is how it looks in canon"? where is the line drawn between what's okay and what isn't? as long as it's slow and gradual, is there no line at all?
these are probably just rehashings of your own followup questions, so please excuse that, but i do have an anecdote
i joined a casual anime server the other day and a lot of folks were lamenting one Black character's racist design and how often those on social media will replicate it without thinking/caring. The thing that struck me is that, I've checked this character's tumblr tag regularly for a long time. There are always people who will post art/fanworks of this character with his racist design. Yet hardly ever, if ever, (outside of Black fans) have I seen any of these folks- the ones in the discord server- try to talk to artists/writers/fan creators/etc via asks/replies/etc. There's a notable amount of people in that server and a notable amount that agreed the design was outright racist and that they'll never make fanworks like that, and yet still silence
i'm not entirely sure what would be the line, or the "okay, that's enough" moment to spur any of these folks into action. i'm not sure if there is one. the only reason i don't make my own "hey what is wrong with all of you" post and blow up is because I've made a wonderful little friend group in this fandom who get it, and I don't want them to get caught up in whatever happens if I were to make a post like that
And this is just for getting people to stop using the canon design of the character, i.e., to stop drawing him as a racist caricature. This isn't touching on the people who 1) lighten his skintone [he's been horribly whitewashed over time, which has been reflected in some fanarts and fan merch], or 2) give him a looser hair/straight hair texture, rather than his type 4 hair (there's also #3, which is fanfiction with straight up slurs, and horribly racist writing in it that my friend heavily warned me not to read, but that was more of a one-off case and I've had the creator blocked a long time now).
my point being, we (Black fans) can't even get folks to stop with the caricatures, which we have to start with, and then there's even more of an annoying uphill battle with the other stuff. I'm just so tired of all of this; it makes me want delete my own works and turn away from fandom all together because i can't stand it.
trying for polite and assuming ignorance hardly ever works, speaking bluntly doesnt work at all, making public posts hardly goes anywhere (partly because of how rarely people reblog things anymore, partly because it makes people 'uncomfortable' to share this information with others). Black fans so obviously need help to combat this, and yet it's like sitting at a tea party and hearing all these pretty words in this one setting, yet nobody does anything different/better when the party's over/outside this setting.
sorry for dooming a bit, but like, genuinely i would like to know where the line is for nonblack folks? what is the point/are the points where you would speak up against antiblack racism? have you ever considered speaking up? if there's ever a moment you recognized antiblack racism and didn't say anything, why didn't you? did you consider how your lack of speaking up might affect your fellow Black fans? or how Black fans may be interpret this as silent agreement with the racists/with the racist 'norm'?
..those could maybe be alternative ways of asking your last followup question?
(if i've made any blunders or overstepped here, please let me know!)
No, I'm glad you spoke up! I too would like to see answers!
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the library scene warms my heart that they are still in each other’s side (lets just forgot the whole he needs my help with tutor and i need her help for tutor excuse cause i know they just have and neeeeddd to be close) ughh
"Dinner later?" He inquires, brow raising as he's starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time. "Sure, I'll meet you there.." You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you're sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he's leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next.
just kiss already count : 1
"He's a great friend... isn't he...” He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it. "Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny..." His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you're calling him sweet. And funny.
Oh honey you officially make this man brain restless with your wording😭. Just kiss already count : 2
Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group. Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him.
LIKE WHATT JUST PLEASE DONT BE SO CRYPTIC GIVE THIS MAN HIS BREAKK
The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again... " "Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin'..." You joke with a smile. Shaking your head.
Finally just focus on you two, let’s start from there. Just kiss already count :3
Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.
Okay sir respectfully why didnt you?. But for real it’s already written there but it’s so frustrating that the reader wanna be close and fit in with miguel’s circle but honey i know you meant well but didnt you see this guy right here is a bout to combust
'Well you all played very well..." You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel's body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines.
It’s not that ball you need to be concerned. You succeed on making them both oblivious on one another . Just kiss already count : 4
You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool.
I cant defend you any more girlie, i cantttrttr
"Um..." You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell... "Sure!" Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks?
Mig, jealousy looks good on you <3
"I'm sweating..." You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. "Woah woah slow down, sweetheart..." The words ooze off his lips.
Just kiss already count : 5
Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel's again. You're friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what's stopping him? What's stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you've proven to him, you can fit in.
Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You're... kissing him... you...
"No baby... you need to go to sleep... you're drunk.." He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other. "No please... say you want me, please you have to, don't you want to?" You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He's speechless. Doesn't know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker.
"I want you... I do want you..." He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won't remember this in the morning.
I HAVE BEEN SOBBING FOR THE PAST 30 MINUTES.
I Think I'll Keep You 5
a/n: Thank you again for your patience! I hope you guys enjoy and the next chapter is already underway and will come very soon! And some more art and bots coming out as well so look out for that!
w.c.: 10.2k NSFW MINORS DNI
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“...accurate and efficient methods of decoding… further aiding us in understanding… um… complicated genetic codes… pushing preservation and conservation. Uhh… yeah.” Miguel sighs, sitting up in his seat and peering over your arm as you type away on his laptop. Sitting at a table in the middle of the library during tutoring hours. Your fingers typing for him as he speaks what he wants written. He can’t type. Not with his right hand totally out of commission. So he’s come to your open tutoring hours. And now you have a student to work on so you can get paid and he can get help with his work. It’s Saturday and the two of you have been practically connected at the hip for the past two days.
You woke up beside him yesterday afternoon after that late night emergency room run. Lazily, sleepily taking the rest of the day slowly. Walking across campus to get food since all you both ate the whole night was a few pieces of candy. Smiling and talking, shoes splashing in shallow puddles along the concrete. A refreshing feeling having moved on from the mess of the last few weeks. The bubble has popped. That bubble of sex and ignorance that felt so great for the both of you. Sitting in the dining hall, among the hardwood and tall, ancient windows of your old university; looking over the school grounds turned fall shades and the autumn breeze blowing in through the window. Trying to talk about anything that won’t add any more stress or tension. No talk of friends, or family, not even school. Really just talking about whatever comes into your mind. And the conversation is just so easy. It’s different to spend time with him outside of the dorm room. It didn’t happen very often before. A lot of your conversations were pillowtalk. It’s different talking about the other parts of your life that don’t take place right after doing the deed. Miguel is funny. And he’s a good listener when his mind is clear and he’s focused on you. Only you.
Feels like things are going back to normal. Well not how it was before. A new normal.
“I think it sounds good… it’s a little awkward in the intro still but we can fix it up later…” You assure him, fixing a few typos and reading it over. The library is nice and quiet as always. You didn’t have any other students come this afternoon so you have time to focus on this and help Miguel since you know he can’t really do it himself right now.
“I don’t know… feels like I’m missing something. I’m gonna include the research but it doesn't feel like enough.” He sighs, leaning his elbows on the table, pushing his frames further up the bridge of his nose and looking over the notes in his hand. His knee is bouncing under the table and you can feel the vibrations of it in your seat. He’s applying to the Alchemax grant program. A huge grant with a long essay to go with it, multiple letters of recommendation and a personal profile piece. Tens of thousands of dollars for his research project. And he’d basically be an intern there. Able to use their facilities and labs to complete the job and create a brand new study of his own. It would start right after graduation and almost definitely lead to a great job at Alchemax Industries. He sighs, leaning back in his seat, draping his arm over the back of your chair.
“You okay?” You hum, observing his clearly distressed behavior. His knee bouncing, his brow furrowed, the sighs. He looks over at you, in your eyes. Don’t lie. “Yeah I’m fine… just… want to get this right.”
You nod. Knowing that’s not all there is to it. But accepting it for now. “Well, maybe you should include some of your… personality…traits…” You suggest with a small smile, knowing that it will be like pulling teeth with him, clasping your hands in your lap and looking over at him next to you.
“Like what. I mean… Tyler knows me. He’s the one that told me to apply.” [Tyler Stone. President and Ceo of Alchemax Industries.] He sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head, his dark curls becoming a little messy with the metal pushed through them, and rubbing the sides of his nose with his fingers. The ache of wearing his glasses for a while when he usually doesn’t like wearing them at all. But he’s worn them more often the past few days. He can see you more clearly now.
“Yeah but he’s not the only one who’s gonna be working with you or deciding if you get the job or not. You want people to know who you are… know the kind of person you are. More often than not, that’s more important than the research when it comes to something like this. I mean, you’re not just applying for a grant, you’re applying for a job…” You explain kindly. He looks up, in your eyes, his eyes raking over your pretty face. He loves feeling like he can be close to you again. He loves feeling like he knows what’s going on in your head. Or maybe that’s just his need for control seeping in. Like venom in warm blood. Just sitting next to you like this. Even if he hasn’t so much as kissed you since everything went down. It’s only been nearly two weeks but it feels like an eternity. He wants to so badly. But he reminds himself that this is how things are right now. He messed up and he’s getting a second chance. He won’t take your forgiveness for granted. “Yeah, you’re right.” He admits, dropping the graphs and charts on the table.
“Maybe talk about family… inspirations… personal goals. People like that kind of stuff. People also want to know that you can be a part of something bigger than yourself…” You say, fingers brushing over the keys and ready to type what he says. “Uh…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to pull this out of his brain. He doesn’t really want to talk about his family. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being considered inspiration. But his upbringing and his parents’ names alone have opened a lot of doors for him in the past. His fingers fidget on the back of your chair, catching a few strands of your hair, playing with it so softly that you don’t even feel it. And he watches the side of your face to make sure you don’t notice, your eyes focused on the computer screen. Curling the strands around his finger and getting lost in touching you. Hanging on desperately to this morsel of touch. Knowing he probably shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself.
“I guess… we could say I grew up watching my parents with their business. But that’s more… financial services. When I was born, OLI was just taking off and now… I’ve watched them build it into what it is today.” He explains. You keep typing, writing it down in the notes to keep it straight. You can hear the sigh in his voice like he hates to be talking about it. You don’t know why. Mostly because he’s never spoken about this before. But if he’s applying for such a big opportunity then it’s important to include.
“OLI, I’ve heard of that, I think…” You look over at him, unsure what that stands for but you know you’ve heard that acronym before, or maybe you’ve seen it somewhere?
“O’hara Legacy Investments.” He says with a nod and sigh, a level of disdain in his tone. He leans forward, his mind still on this essay. On beefing it up with info that might secure him this grant. Even though he’s confident his connections will get him in. There’s always a chance things might not go his way. He wants to prepare for every possible outcome. He hates to feel out of control. You stop typing. That sounds like investment banking. Like the kind of thing that makes people billionaires.
“Is that the… that tall building downtown?” You ask, looking over at him and he nods, a blank stare in his eyes as he’s looking down at the research notes. “Your family runs that?”
“Yep.” He sighs, not offering more information so you don’t ask for more.
“Okay sooo… how would that influence your work at Alchemax?” You prompt, trying to veer back on course. You can tell he’s losing steam, you’ve been at this a while.
“So I guess it’s not really the same as what I would be doing at Alchemax but… Watching how that runs… how many people it takes to keep something running like that. I guess something about leading teams of people working towards a goal…” He keeps thinking out loud and you keep typing, interpreting his words into organized notes and ideas. “So.. maybe about you as a leader? You think you can be a good leader…”
“Yeah. I think so… and soccer, we could include that too.” He says, perking up and sitting up a bit straighter. Although the topic of soccer does bring his anxiety levels up a bit. Watching you type while playing with a piece of frayed material on his cast. “Yeah, captain of the soccer team, sports is always something they want to hear. If you’re a leader… organizer. And coming from SU especially, they love to see it.” You agree, typing and compiling the thoughts that come to mind. “And to know you can work in a team…”
Miguel nods. Feeling relieved that you’re able to help him with this. He did all the more technical notes for it over the past few weeks. Organized lots of thoughts and data to start the writing process. Then he broke his fingers and that put a wrench in the process. It’s due next week and without you he’d be screwed. But it works out sort of perfectly, and a little selfishly, that now he’s spending more time with you because of that. “I think also…”
He starts. You look over, ready to type whatever he suggests. “I’m an older brother too… that’s… I don’t know…” He mumbles. You find yourself smiling. “I feel like… maybe being a leader in that way is different.”
“It’s very different, yes…” You nod, looking back at the laptop screen, a smile dancing on your lips. “Maybe something about… protecting… looking out for those that are important to me. Or being a good role model I guess…” He sighs. Thinking. About Gabriel. About you. Pretty much the two most important people in his life. I guess I haven’t been a very good role model as of late.
“Loyalty… role model…” You say and nod. Typing those words in the compilation of notes you’re making in the margins. His knee is still bouncing.
“I also think you’re very passionate…” You say. He looks over at you, the side of your face, watching you type more things in the notes. Trying to create a section of his essay that can portray him as not just another applicant. “I think I’m just generally angry… I don’t really think before I do things…” He scoffs, shaking his head and leaning forward, his arms on the table, his head resting down on his forearms, looking at your pretty face from this angle. You grin and nod, giving him a look. “Yeah but we don’t have to include that… passion works…”
He laughs through his nose, blinking softly and admiring your face. Watching your pretty eyes, the light of the computer screen reflecting in them, making them especially sparkly. It’s quiet for a moment, just the clicks of keys and fingertips. He thinks, reflecting on all that’s happened in the past few weeks. That thing with Dana keeps coming to mind. That was really a moment of lost control. Is that the passion you’re talking about? That he loses control and can’t get it back until it’s almost too late? He worries about that. Not remembering most of it because he was so angry. It sort of feels like a dream. Especially since he fought with you right after that and then everything went right to shit.
All he knows is that Dana made it back to his dorm. He knows for a fact nothing happened. He wouldn’t have wanted it anyway because he despises her and she was drunk off her ass. But she did lie on his bed. Her perfume was all over him. And he remembers standing over her and wanting to make her hate him. Just so that she would leave him alone. That’s a level of anger he never wants you to witness, or anyone really for that matter. It scares him a bit now to think of it. All he knows is that if you think he’s loyal, he’ll be loyal as a dog. If you think he’s passionate, he’ll be a raging, burning fire to keep you warm. You think he’s anything, he’ll be that. If you want him to be.
He fidgets with the fray on his cast. Coming off the blue material. His gaze caught on the little cursive “mine” you wrote. That night in the drug store. When you were both so deliriously tired, sitting in the middle of the floor. Having this on his arm is like a reminder. Or a promise. That maybe you’ll be his or he’ll be yours again. He’ll just have to be patient. His thumb brushes over the word, like making sure the letters won’t fall off, making sure they’re stained into the blue permanently. Do you even remember writing this? He thinks. Or were you so tired it feels like a dream? His bouncing knee still vibrates against your chair.
“Anything else for today? We did a lot…” You ask, looking over at him. Bringing him out of his thoughts. “No, I think that’s good, thank you… but maybe next week we can finalize things and you can help me edit it?” He asks hopefully. “Yeah definitely, I’ll block out some time for you…”
He nods, sighing and pulling his glasses off his head. Folding them up in his hand and collecting his papers. You just save the document, debating in your head the words on your tongue. Closing the laptop so he can pack it up in his bag.
“So… you wanna tell me what’s stressing you out?” You ask, turning in your seat to face him and leaning your elbow on the table, head in your hand. He stops what he’s doing, putting down the stack of notebooks. “You can read my mind…” He smiles.
“No, you’ve just been bouncing your knee against my chair for the past hour.” You sigh, smiling soft but sympathetic at him. His shoulders slump. “Oh sorry…” He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed for being so obvious, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers.
“It’s okay… Is it the grant? I think your essay will be good enough…” You hum. Noticing all of his distress and not wanting him to be freaking out over something he’s already spent so long working on. “No it’s not… I… I’m really glad you can help me with it. Thank you… I’m just worried about the game tomorrow…” He nods. And it dawns on you. “Ohh…”
“I actually should get going… have a meeting with the coach. Figure out how we’re gonna pull this off…” He sighs, getting up from his seat to gather his things. He’s been wracked with anxiety about the game ever since putting two and two together that he’s out for the next few weeks. It’s against the rules for someone to play with a plaster cast on and he’s nowhere near getting that removed. So the team will have to supplement him.
“You’re not gonna play are you? You shouldn’t… not with your hand like that.” You insist, watching him get up, pulling on his jacket precariously with his one working hand. He can hear the concern in your voice. “I can’t. It's an instant disqualification… so I have to talk to Coach and maybe I’ll just assistant coach tomorrow, I don’t know…” He sighs, knowing it’ll be a struggle for the team to play without him. And they very well might not win. This is a university proud of its win streak so far.
“If it hurts, let Coach know… you don’t have to do anything that’s uncomfortable.” You advise softly. Wanting him to be comfortable. Always. That look of care on your face makes him feel a little warm. Making him feel a little soft and fuzzy inside. He can’t remember ever being worried over like that. He clears his throat, trying not to let that feeling get to him too much, shoving his laptop in his bag and zipping it up. “I will… don’t worry about me…”
He says it but he doesn’t really mean it. Although he doesn't want you to be anxious; he definitely doesn’t need to inflict any more emotional pain on you, he’s done more than enough of that over the past few weeks… he does want you to care. Or it’s more like… once he realized you actually do care, now he doesn’t want to lose that.
“Just be careful… I know you’ll do well and the team will be fine…” You smile gently. Clicking your pen and watching him getting ready to leave. His bag slung over his shoulder. “Thank you… yeah I just need to chill.” He sighs, moving his hurt hand around absentmindedly to soothe the ache. “Well… the feeling you’re having just means you care. It’s a good feeling, even though it’s scary…”
He looks in your eyes, down at where you’re still sitting. Feeling struck by your words. You’ve always been so good at that. You always know exactly what to say when he needs to hear it. He hopes to do the same for you one day. If only he can figure out how you manage to do it every time. He just nods in thanks, a renewed sense of relief inside.
“Dinner later?” He inquires, brow raising as he’s starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time.
“Sure, I’ll meet you there…” You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you’re sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he’s leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next. He nods. Turning towards the library doors and smiling to himself, making his way out. Sneakers tapping on the hardwood floors of the academic building, sparing you one last glance. Finding your eyes still on him. A stupid sort of giddy feeling in his chest. Lopsided grin on his lips as he leaves the library.
“O’hara! Dude.” Peter’s voice brings him out of his flurry of thoughts. Watching his friend march down the rest of the hall to him. “Where you been? You disappeared again…” Peter chuckles.
“Oh yeah I‘ve just been… busy in the lab and stuff… and my application.” He lies. While it’s true he has been working on his application and piles of homework, he’s also been actively avoiding all of his friends ever since your fight. Unable to handle even the slightest of social interaction. His mind set on you and only you. But he won’t tell Peter that.
“Dana said you were being crazy or something…” Peter huffs, his brow quirked in disbelief. Miguel’s heart starts to beat a little harder at that. Did Dana tell everyone what happened? Or her version of what happened? “What did she say?”
“Well… she’s kinda implying that you two hooked up after the party last week…” Miguel’s eyes widen at that news. It’s just not true. But that seems to be the story everyone believes so far. “MJ thinks she’s full of shit bu-"
“She is full of shit.” Miguel sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose. Or trying to with his cast. It was a foolish thing to give into his anger and take Dana back to his dorm. But he didn’t sleep with her. He’s not surprised though that she’s spreading that rumor around. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Shit, what happened?!” Peter flips, looking down at the cast engulfing Miguel’s forearm to the tips of his fingers. Looking at the seemingly broken hand, his eyes scanning over Miguel as a whole. Feeling like he has no idea what’s going on with someone who’s supposed to be his closest friend. “I broke my wrist but it’s fine, doctor says it’ll be fine even without surgery.”
“It’s fine?! What about the game?” Peter asks in panic, running a hand through his previously neat light brown locks. It’s against policy rules to play with a hard plaster cast for the safety of the other players and teammates. But Miguel’s the captain, their top offense and shooter.
“I’ll be on the sidelines and Miller and Durante can take care of it.”
“It’s Princeton, Miguel. We’re gonna get fuckin’ smoked out there…” Peter huffs, going on and on but Miguel just shakes his head, feeling that anxiety rising again. The anxiety you were able to dampen only moments ago. “I know it sucks… I know. But those new drills have been helping… I’m gonna talk to coach.”
“Alright… but Marco and Santiago need to get their asses in order before tomorrow. I’m not playing defense because they can’t pay attention to the fucking ball.”
“I know, I know…” Miguel sighs and nods. Knowing this is all bad timing. They’ve been preparing for this game for a while now and it’s a pretty big spectacle. The stands will undoubtedly be full to the brim. It makes him tense and anxious to think about.
“Okay…” Peter huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, text me what Coach says…” He sighs, lifting his fist. Their knuckles colliding as he’s starting to walk off to where he’s going. “No more disappearing…” Peter chuckles, looking back as he starts walking down the hall, pointing a finger at his friend. “Yeah, yeah…”
“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Peter says with a nod, his hands in his pockets as he rounds the corner, walking into the library. Miguel sighs, feeling that tension, that tomorrow might not go well and it’ll be all his fault. Because he can’t do more to help the team he’s supposed to be leading.
He jogs down the stairs, down another hallway and outside. The fall breeze and smell of the trees and crisp autumn air flows past his cheeks, blowing back the little curls by his ears. Hunching his shoulders up when the brisk air cools his neck, pulling his collar up and walking across the commons to get to the athletic building on the other side of campus. To meet with Coach about the game plan for tomorrow.
“Come on guys, one more time!” Miguel calls out to the team. Dressed in his uniform, dark blue and silver stripes, school colors with the Sterling University crest on his arm, a C on his chest. Number 99 on his back. Cleats and his cast to match. It does suck he has to miss out on actually playing but he does a lot of assistant coaching as captain anyway so it’s nothing he’s not used to. Coach Dean is talking with the referees anyway. Schmoozing on the sidelines, convinced it’ll earn them less whistles through the game.
Miguel sighs, anxious, shaking his head and directing his attention to the mobs of people filling the stands. The sun is setting, the field lights coming on and a slight chill filling the air. A buzz with that too. College soccer fans here as well as lots of students from both universities. People are excited. The team is excited as well as anxious without Miguel playing beside them. Knowing they’ll have to supplement him being out. Miguel huffs, stretching his arms and wincing slightly at the remnants of ache in his wrist, his breath fogging in the cold air.
“Come on… si yeah! ¡Mantén la posesión!" He shouts from the sides, watching the team warming up with the drills and keeping order, following them up and down their half of the field. “Marco!¡Sigue presionando! Call for it!" A mix of Spanish and English naturally leave his lips. Dark eyes follow their form and technique. Keeping everyone in order. They’re doing really well as always. But Miguel would prefer perfection. “Good! Alright break!” He shouts.
The team all relaxes, sighing in relief and collecting on the sidelines near the bench. Some passing the ball back and forth. The goalie is doing some technique in the practice nets with Durante and Miller. Others glancing at the opposing team warming up on their side of the field. “Marco, you’re gonna break you’re fuckin’ ankle doing that. Keep it light, it doesn’t have to be so fast. Slow down and go through the steps, alright?” Miguel instructs calmly, grabbing a ball and demonstrating on the turf by the benches. Marco nods, wiping his brow with the edge of his jersey.
“Just like that… keep it loose and look at Miller, he’s the one you’re paying attention to. Don’t look at Durante, he’s gonna be looking at Miller for that pass down the field. But that was still good, keep it up..”
“There’s a lot of people here…” Peter comments, squirting some water into his mouth, catching his breath. Miguel walks over from helping Marco, standing beside his friend and looking out at the people in the stands. It’s a little more than they’re used to. Little intimidating considering this stadium seats thousands of people.
“It’s a big game…” Miguel huffs, grabbing his water bottle. Wish I could fucking play… he thinks. Glancing at Coach, still talking to the refs near the midline. They have a little while before everything starts.
It’s the end of the first half and it’s been a good game so far. Princeton is good but so is Sterling. They’d be better if Miguel was on the field to help them. He finds himself getting frustrated on the sidelines, disagreeing with the refs calls and calling out to his teammates, trying to lead and instruct. The whistle blows and the team finally relaxes. Panting and walking over to the sidelines.
“They’re fast…” Marco pants, plopping down on the bench to catch his breath. “We have to be faster… but we’re holding our own…” Miguel says, hands on his hips and looking over the team, trying to keep the edge from his tone. He’s here to lead, not berate.
“You good?” He sees Peter covered in grass stains. Peter’s the one that’s been scoring pretty much all the goals so far. Princeton’s defense is good. It’s one of those games where no one’s going to score very many goals, it’s all about making sure the other team doesn’t get too close. “That was really good, keep doing that. And if it works better for Marco to go up the right side, then do that.” Miguel says.
“I will… they’re so fuckin fast…” Peter pants, grabbing his water bottle and squirting some in his mouth. Breathing heavy through his nose. The team takes a few minutes at halftime to refuel and plan for the second half. Peter and Marco will have to be smart about the next plays. They’re down by two and the other team just keeps getting closer and closer.
“I got a girl in the stands…” Peter says with a lopsided smile, still out of breath, spraying some more water into his mouth. “Yeah?” Miguel’s brow quirks at that information. He knows Peter has a lot of girls around him and friends that are girls. Makes sense, he’s very smart, an athlete, loud and the life of the party. Everyone always trying to get a piece of him. Not a foreign concept to Miguel himself. Miguel grabs his water bottle too, raising it to his mouth. “Who is she?”
“Her name’s y/n…”
What?
“...yeah you should meet her… she’s really pretty and smart and funny...”
What?
Peter keeps talking, tossing a ball to someone else across the bench. Not even registering the look on Miguel’s face. Like shock and something else. Something Miguel himself can’t put a finger on. And Miguel can only half listen to Peter’s words. “She’s head of the tutoring club… did I tell you I started doing that? Dude, I’m getting paid to do some freshman’s homework and get course credit. It's like the easiest shit in the world…” Peter laughs, talking on and on.
Miguel doesn’t understand. It’s like his brain can’t process this. Staring at Peter silently and waiting for him to say it’s a joke. But how could it be a joke?
“She’s riiiiight… there-” Peter turns, pointing at the stands. Turning stiffly, Miguel looks out to where he’s pointing. His dark eyes searching the stands and looking for your face. Hoping to see some stranger who happens to have the same name as you. But no. It’s you.
He watches your gaze snap onto them, seeming surprised to have both their attention now. How did he not notice? You’ve been here this whole time, sitting nearly 15 rows behind him and he didn’t know? But Peter knew?
He can’t help that his immediate reaction to seeing you is relief. Seeing you up there and he just wants to smile. Wants to disappear with you and forget this stressful game. You’re like… his best friend in the whole world. But then that relief is quickly quelled when he realizes Peter is the one who invited you, he’s the reason you’re here.
Miguel huffs. Nearly getting hit in the face when Peter starts waving at you. Stepping back and trying to make sense of this. There you are, waving back their way. What is this? He wonders. Unable to help the scowl that appears on his face as he observes Peter waving. What is this happening that he doesn’t know about or had no idea could even happen? Another bubble has popped and he didn’t even know it.
He looks back up at you. Your eyes looking his way. But are you looking at him or are you looking at Peter? He hates that he can’t even tell. He hopes it’s him but it’s too much distance to know for sure. He just holds up a hand weakly. Waving at you. Feeling like an idiot, a total fool. And here Peter is waving at you, thinking Miguel doesn’t even know who you are. Fuck.
“Alright boys! Let’s huddle up!” Coach yells, coming over to the bench and motioning for everyone to come over. Peter moves to head over, gently kicking a ball on his way. And Miguel can’t help but keep glancing at you. Feeling self conscious. You’ve been watching him and witnessing all of this, this entire time? He didn’t even know you were here and half of the game had already been played. And all he’s done is stand on the sidelines while Peter played big shot scorer.
Your hands wave at him, mouthing something he can’t make out. His brow knitting together as you try to communicate something to him before Coach snaps again.
“O’hara!”
His eyes snap to the team huddled by the bench. Taking long strides to get over there. But his mind is a mess. He didn’t even know you knew each other.
The second half, the rest of the game, it’s hard for Miguel to focus on coaching. He’s watching the team play but it’s like a delayed reaction in his mind. Like his body is here but his brain is trying to tap into some invisible signal stretching from you to him. Peter scores again and Miguel flinches at the sound of the stands erupting. Cheering and echoing through his head. Pounding the sides of his skull.
He can’t help but glance your way every chance he gets. But every time he’s able to spot you in the sea of colors and foreign faces, you’re looking at the ball on the field. Which is always in Peter’s possession. And he can’t focus on anything except what he doesn’t know. What he can’t control.
…
“Wooooo!” Marco hollers, the team gathering in a huddle on the field and celebrating their close victory. They won, but it was a tough game. Miguel stares almost blankly as the team all slaps hands and says good game. And by the time he snaps out of it, turning to find you, the stands are already emptying out and you’re gone from your seat.
“O’hara!” The team shouts, bringing him out of the mess of thoughts. The players crowding him in celebration on the sidelines. Cheers and loud voices. Talking about moments in the game, highlights, certain techniques that had Princeton on their toes. All in all it was an exciting match and Peter was definitely the savior, scoring more goals than anyone and making the game. And Peter is all smiles.
The team heads back to the locker room. Showering and warming down from the game. Miguel stands at his locker. His new locker since the punched in door wouldn’t close properly on his old one. Pulling off his jersey carefully with one hand and hanging it up. Wiping down his broad chest with a towel and hearing Peter with some of the boys walking in from the showers. His movements slow, brow furrowing, grabbing his change of clothes and pulling a tank top on, the black material bunching down his toned abdomen against his deep skin. Listening to Peter’s voice.
His mind races. Since when did you two become such good friends? And why wouldn’t I know you were coming to the game when I saw you all day yesterday? Does Peter know that? Does Peter know we spend countless hours together? Does Peter know we have this deep connection that I’m actually working really hard to repair? He ought to.
He listens to Peter’s conversation, as if waiting for him to say your name to confirm he’s talking about you. But he can’t make it out all the way. Something about a party, something about his car, something about the game. He watches the rest of the guys leave the locker room. Peter walks by with the guys and he just subtly, silently glares as they pass, not noticing him. pulling his hoodie on and shutting his locker gently. Pulling his phone off the charger and slinging his sports bag over his shoulder, walking out.
He slumps down the concrete steps, the hallway leading to the exit doors, opening out to the athletic parking lot. Raking a hand through his hair, his mind a mess. He’s not used to feeling so beaten down after a game. They won, he should be happy. He should be glad. But he just feels indifferent. Or he just really needs to see you.
When the door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.
“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.
“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is y/n… y/n this is Miguel”
“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?”
Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.
“Uh… I don’t know, I’m kinda tired…” You sigh. Part of you not wanting to go since it’s not your normal scene but a bigger part needing to go so you can feel like you’re really one of Miguel’s friends. Not someone he has to hide. That you can get along with them and be a part of his life. That’s all you want to prove to him.
“Come on… please?” Peter pouts. And Miguel wants to scream. Trying to tell you with his eyes that he doesn’t want to do this. Not right now. Maybe later when he’s had time to mentally prepare himself. It doesn’t help that you look adorable right now. In your Sterling Uni hoodie with a scarf to keep warm. He doesn’t want to do this. He’d rather just go to dinner. Like always. Talk for hours and maybe even fall asleep talking in your dorm like always. Not this. Please not this.
His eyes burning a hole right through you, trying to communicate it without using the words since he can’t right now, not with Peter standing right there. Part of him wants you to come and show you off. The other part of him wants you all to himself, not wanting to share you with anyone. But he’s trying to be better. Trying to control himself rather than try to control everything else around him.
“It would be fun, right Miguel?” Peter asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wants to say no. Wants to say fuck no and disappear, taking you with him. But he can’t do that now. So he just nods stiffly, forcing a smile. Almost painfully. “Yeah… come…”
Your eyes light up and Miguel knows he’s done for. “Oh great!” You smile and Peter is instantly excited too. Talking about how great it’s going to be and how many people will be there. Miguel’s heart is pounding, seeing how easily Peter was able to get you to come. How Peter is smiling and looking at you. A sense of dread filling his chest.
It’s the usual bar. The college bar around the corner from campus where the sports teams usually congregate after a game. Or the general student body on a Friday night. Loud music and conversation, the place is packed. Football and UFC playing on the multitude of TVs hanging in the place. The team filters in all acting like they own this place. Playing pool and getting drinks, talking to girls in corners and at the bar. It’s a crazy night at least for you. Miguel’s seen nights like this before, but this time you’re here. And he won’t let you out of his sight. Even as people talk to him, trying to strike up conversation and catch up. Since everyone knows who he is and knows his name. He still keeps his attention focused on you. He doesn’t care about anyone else in this bar tonight.
Drinks flow the second everyone is in there, laughter and loud voices, trying to be heard over the music. Miguel keeps his arm barred at your side to help get you through the density of people. Like a shield to make sure no one bumps into you. Not wanting you to be too claustrophobic or crowded. Staying nearby until you find two seats at the bar miraculously. As you sit down, Miguel quickly scans the room. Looking for one face in particular. No sign of Dana and he can relax a tiny bit. Sliding into his stool seat beside you.
He sits down, watching how you observe the place, looking a little out of your element here. It’s clear you’re not a party girl. You’re a smart, intelligent tutor and it shows. It would almost be comical if Miguel didn’t have a fierce determination to protect you in this place.
He leans over, getting closer to your ear to be heard over the noise. The smell of your shampoo mixed with your perfume, so close and familiar, filling his senses and almost making him dizzy. His mind flashing with moments of you in his bed. Your body under his and his face buried in your soft sweet smelling hair. He’s the only one in this bar that knows what you sound like when you come.
“Drink… Do you want a drink?” He asks, trying to be heard over the noise, his cheek brushing against yours. Pulling back to hear your response. “Yeah! Whatever is fine…” You smile, trying to speak over the chaos of people and stimulation. A bit out of your element but doing fine. Excited to be here with him and feel like you’re fitting into his world.
He gets the bartender's attention, ordering you just a beer in a bottle. He doesn’t know if you’d want anything fruity, not that this crappy bar would have anything that good anyway. He’s never drunk with you before. He slides it over to you, watching you take a gulp and smile. You’re so out of your element here. He sighs. A swell in his chest.
Even though he would normally be drinking a couple beers himself, he just has water in front of him. He wants to stay relatively sober. Enough to keep watch over you and make sure no one else talks to you. “Oh, I thought you were gonna get the same thing…” You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the bar and watching him sipping his water from a plastic cup.
“Someone needs to be responsible for all these people right?” He chuckles. As captain of the team he actually does feel that responsibility. To keep people in line since he knows they’ll listen to him. “And I need to be sober if I’m carrying you out of this place drunk off your ass…” He jokes, teasing you.
“I’m not getting drunk tonight, no way. No thank you…” You sigh, shaking your head. Looking down at the label on the bottle in your hand. Then your eyes dart around the crowded room a few times. He just looks at your face. You’re so pretty. Especially pretty in this low light.
“Well how is the beer at least? I know it’s not something sweet but it’s probably the best thing they have here.” He huffs, keeping his eyes on you, studying you. He’d love to just be all over you and show people that you’re his. But you’re not right now. You’re his friend and that’s the boundary you both set. He’s trying his best to uphold that after his mistakes. “It’s fine… I don’t ever drink much anyway so I’m not picky…”
He nods. Learning more about you all the time. The two of you have never been out to a bar or club before so this is all brand new. He can see how you’re a little nervous in this place. It’s not your usual hangout spot and he can tell. “Yeah, this place is pretty chaotic tonight…” He comments, looking around then back at you. “You’re okay though, right?”
“Yeah I’m fine…” You smile. Clasping your hands in your lap. He’s attentive, more recently than ever. It’s true that he’s become like your best friend over the last month and a half. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it’s felt like a lifetime. And with how much time you spend together, it still feels like he separates you from a lot of the other parts of his life. Friends, family, everything else. You spot Peter across the way standing with some people. The only other person you even know in this place.
Miguel follows your gaze over towards where Peter is and he can't help but wonder why you're looking at Peter or what you're thinking. He looks at the group of people around him, recognizing teammates and classmates, but notices Peter in particular.He tries to remain cool, looking back at you. "He's a great friend… isn't he… "
He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it.
"Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny…"
His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you’re calling him sweet. And funny. He knows how charismatic and charming Peter is, knowing he could get any girl he wants. "He always gets the girls… he's quite the flirt…" He mumbles.
"Oh really?" You smile and scrunch your nose up, looking back at Peter and seeing that yes, there are many girls around him right now. And he must be very popular with the girls, you think. You hadn't really noticed that Peter was a flirt but you think he's charming. Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group.
Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him. It just annoys him that you’re completely oblivious to it. He watches you watching Peter across the room, trying not to let it show on his face how frustrated he is.
"How's your hand?" You ask, taking a sip from your bottle. Gesturing towards his cast in his lap. Trying to talk over the noise in the room. The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again… "
"Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin’…" You joke with a smile. Shaking your head. Punched his locker like some guy in a movie.
Miguel can't help but smile, knowing you’re referring to him punching the front of his locker like a crazy person. He sighs, knowing it was stupid and a loss of control. "That locker had it coming though…"
You laugh at his words, his eyes lighting up watching your head throw back a bit. The fluttering sound of your laughter carrying slightly over the noise in the room and hitting his ears. He wants to make you laugh like that all the time. Make you smile like this every day. And Peter works his way through the room over to the bar.
"There you guys are! I thought I lost you…" Peter's face lights up when he gets closer, excited to see his best friend and you, the pretty tutor. He stands behind both your chairs putting his hands on the backs of them. Miguel’s eyes flick back-and-forth between you two. You're still oblivious. Smiling at Peter like you don't know what he's doing. Every instinct inside of him telling him to make Peter back off. But he's trying to be better for you. Trying not to lose control or act impulsive.
"Spending the night bragging, are you?" You smile and tease Peter lightly. Leaning over the back of your chair. He did score a lot of the winning goals tonight. Peter laughs and loves any attention from you. Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.
"Well you all played very well…" You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel’s body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines.
"Peter here was especially on his game today. Princeton is tough…" Miguel says with tension in his tone, finally joining in on the conversation. His eyes flicking between the two of you but landing on you mostly. Watching your reaction to Peter's words.
"It's all in the foot work really. Reading the opponent… Gotta think about 10 steps ahead." Peter says with a grin, in his element. Miguel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. As much as he loves Peter, he wants him to fuck off right now.
You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool. You take a sip of your beer finding it's the last one, putting the empty bottle back on the bar. It seems both boys take notice.
"Can I get you another? "Peter asks, His eyes lighting up.
“Um…" You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell… "Sure!"
Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks?
"I got it." Miguel suddenly says, waving to the bartender for another round. If anyone's getting you drunk tonight, it's gonna be him. So he can make sure you're okay. “Okayyy…” Peter huffs softly, raising his brow at Miguel’s rivalry. But Miguel doesn’t care. Grabbing the fresh cold beer bottle and sliding it over the bar in front of you. Looking back up at Peter, a stern expression on his face.
Over the next hour and your next two beers, Peter just won’t go away. He’s practically hanging on your chair, talking to you about whatever. And because you’re so nice and sweet you just keep giving into him. Smiling at Miguel too like you want him to be in on the conversation. But it just makes him feel worse somehow. Is he really losing you to Parker? Is that how this is gonna go?
“So… you guys are like best friends?” You ask, your words slightly slurred, cheeks pink and flushed. You’re tipsy and Miguel’s watching you like a hawk. Your beer shined lips as you smile up at Peter. So damn cute and pretty. “We are… best friends…” Peter says in a cocky way. Grabbing Miguel’s shoulder and shaking it a few times, a beer in his other hand. Miguel might be the only sober one in this place and it’s getting annoying.
He fidgets with the same fray on his cast, pulling on it and pulling on it. Watching you talk to Peter. Forcing a smile when you look his way. It’s getting unbearable. Eyes flicking around the crowded room and just wanting to get out of here.
“One more round?” Peter asks and Miguel groans internally. You’re both drunk, everybody is drunk and he just wants to get you back somewhere it’s safer. Peter gets to chatting loudly with some other people down the bar.
“Do you wanna leave?” You lean over, getting closer to Miguel, right up to his face and he just gives you a soft look. Admiring your pretty flushed features. He can see you’ve been having fun. “No, I’m good, we can stay if you want…” He hums gently.
“Don’t lie, Mig…” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear over the noise. And his brow knits together, hearing the nickname, your soft warm voice, wanting to reach out and brush your hair back, kiss your pretty pink lips. Anything. “I’m a little tired…” He admits. And even in your tipsy state, you know it’s time to go.
“Let’s go then… it’s too loud…” You sigh, a distracted Peter now talking loudly with Marco and Miller down the bar. Relief, Miguel thinks. He does really want to make sure you get back to your dorm okay.
…
“Wai-I ‘ave a question…” You slur, hanging onto him and pressed up against his chest as he’s trying to get you over to bed. His big strong arms around you and it feels so good, feels so right. What you’ve been missing all this time and now it just feels like everything is perfect and everything is good and… and your tongue still tastes like beer and… and he smells so good.
“Yeah, what's your question?” He asks so soft and gently. His voice is like smooth melted butter mixed with sweet brown sugar. Bringing you over to your bed and sitting you down on the edge. Making sure you don’t topple over. “Hold still, I’m gonna take your shoes off…”
“D’you think… that… um…” You sigh, the alcohol clouding everything making you instantly forget what you were about to ask him. But the thought is mixing around your brain just waiting to come out. After all, it’s all you were thinking about all night. “M-my shoe is stuck”
“I know, I’m trying to get it off…” He sighs, unable to stop the smile when he hears your little whine. You are pretty cute like this and he likes helping you. Kneeling down in front of you and taking your shoe onto his knee to undo the laces, slipping it off.
“Do you think that… all your friends… that they like-like it?” You sigh, wiggling your toes in your socks as he slides your shoe off. His hands on your calves, absentmindedly caressing up and down, having you in his hands like this is too good to pass up, but he looks up at you at your question. His brow furrowing, wondering what you mean. “Do they like what,-?” He almost called you baby right there. But stopped himself. Maybe it’s just being like this with you right now. Being close and finally being needy for his help, needing him in any way. Or the way you seem so soft and fragile right now he just wants to protect you.
“That they like me…” You sigh. Pushing a hand through your hair and he pulls your other shoe off, your feet freeing and legs dangling off the side of the bed.
He looks up at you, piecing together your broken sentence. Do his friends like you? Peter?
“Like P-peter… does Peter like me?” You ask and his expression goes serious. Swallowing thickly and setting your shoes to the side. He knows the answer. He knows that Peter obviously has a thing for you. It’s becoming more clear you have a thing for him too.
Miguel straightens back up, standing over you and listening to your drunken rambling. Your mumbles. “Cuz I think Peter is really nice and I think you and I can be friends… and I can be friends with your friends too…”
He doesn’t understand what you mean. Towering over you and feeling so blocked up. Like he’s miles away from where he wants to be with you. He wants you to want him. Not think about Peter.
“Uh… I think Peter likes you, yeah…” He mumbles. Looking down at your face. The way it lights up and his heart falls. “Really? So we can all be friends?”
His heart hurts, looking in your eyes. So confused, not knowing what to think. But wishing he could just kiss you right now and make your thoughts stop. Or to fill your thoughts with him. If he kissed you right now would you forget Peter ever existed? If he kissed you right now, if he laid you down and pumped into you until you were a crying trembling moaning mess like all those times before, would you forget Peter and think about him again?
“I’m sweating…” You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. “Woah woah slow down, sweetheart…” The words ooze off his lips. His hands guide you before you reassure him you can walk. He huffs, watching you walk over to your closet. He sits down on the edge of your bed, head in his hands. Feeling pathetic and so lost. Not even knowing what to do at this point. Has he actually lost you for good? Will he actually only ever be your friend now?
You’re sweating, pulling at the material of your hoodie and ripping it off over your head. Slipping your pants off and sighing in relief. Standing in your panties and bra by the dresser and looking for some comfy clothes. Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel’s again. You’re friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what’s stopping him? What’s stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you’ve proven to him, you can fit in.
“Miguel…” You hum, his head coming out of his hands and looking up at you. Eyes widening seeing you in just your underwear. Gulping thickly. “Yes?” He whispers. Like beckoning to your call. Like a plea for you to just put him out of his misery already.
You walk over to him, trying to half haphazardly pull on a big t-shirt. His hands unable to stop themselves, coming up to help pull the material down. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. This all just makes him feel somehow worse. Your body taunting him, teasing him with everything he needs and no way to get it.
Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You’re… kissing him… you…
Heavy breath through his nose and his eyes flutter closed. Kissing you back, feeling your eager tongue tasting like alcohol come into his mouth. Letting it swirl against his lips and his tongue. His big hands snaking around you, holding you for the first time like this in so long. You gasp and hum against his lips and a chill goes down his back. He must be dreaming.
But your hands go to his chest, pushing him back on the bed, and he’s so weak to you. His back hitting the mattress. He wants this so badly. Wants you more than anything in the entire world. You climb on top of him, clambering over his body, sitting on his abdomen and leaning down to kiss him again.
“Wait-”
He’s silenced by your lips, trying to be dominant and licking into his mouth. You never did that before. That was always him. But right now it’s like you’re hungry for him in the exact same way he was hungry for you all this time.
“I need you…” You whisper, pulling back from his lips with a smack. His eyes wide and breath heaving. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and yet it’s not right at all. “No baby… you need to go to sleep… you’re drunk…” He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other.
“No please… say you want me, please you have to, don’t you want to?” You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He’s speechless. Doesn’t know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker.
“I want you… I do want you…” He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won’t remember this in the morning.
You won’t remember this in the morning.
“I love you…” He whispers. Into your hair. Choking back a lump in his throat.
“Mm?” You groan, pushing yourself up drunkenly on your hands, your hair dangling into his face under you.
“Nothing…” He whispers. Swallowing thickly and wrapping his arms around you again. Pulling you to his chest and hugging you. Keeping you there, knowing you’ll pass out in a few minutes anyway and he can tuck you into bed safe and sound.
To be continued…
Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!! Let me know what you think or your theories!
Taglist (thank you my sweets 🍬) :
@miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon
@nommingonfood @bruhhvv
@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen
@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid
@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla
@francesca-the-1st @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt
@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs
@curious-randomlr @safixiovi @daddyfroglegs @theplaid-wearingmoose @reader-1290
@yeanika @elysiumsangel @rinnako @mangoslushcrush @twwcs
@izakopanyi2 @migueloharasoulmate @slut4oscarissac23
@miss-loomis @genny101
@aphinthestars @webshooterrr9 @m4dyy
@jdbxws @roserfz27 @ohara-whore @oharaslove @daisy-artfield
@mooreaey6yem @peachey-pie @migueloharacumslut @pxtched
@yougavemeyourheartyouknow @julia4today
#somehow you have the right to have me this wreck over two idiots that just need to communicate#(i know comm is so fucking hard i even fail myself lmao so i dont blame them)#BUT OHHHH I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY AFTER MAKING ME THIS SAD#I CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART BBY TAKE YOUR TIMEE#miguel o'hara
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not sure what comes next
#i want to make a new tumblr but it seems so :/ so so yucky#ive had this one for so long#but im so fucking paranoid haha#not a safe space#anyways. i broke my streak todau#i was doung rlly well#im working with a hynotherapist hahahahahahahha and doing exposure therapy#theyve upped my prozac i used to just be like a depressed bpd girlie who had a little ocd flavouring and now i am a ocd girlie ://///#but idk i feel like the villain. maybe i am#maybe it was all hugely malicious and evil and selfish and unwarrented#it is possible#anisha says no. but i feel like anisha sticks up for me no matter what. maybe im just too good at victimising myself. anyways#i still get sick to my stomach with jealousy and regret n whatever but thats not /enough/#i dont think i can ever explain it i dont know#i dont think i can ever excuse it i dont know#but i dont take it back. its what needed to be done and i know that. i dont think the letter is going to help. i think it only makes things#worse#im not sure#i want to#ive wanted to this whole fucking time im not emotionless i dont KNOW#but i dont want to confuse wnything i stand by whatni did i need more help i need more alone time i need to learn what the heck is going on#with me#ofc everything reminds me of it i miss it#idk i dont want to address#this is the wrong thing to do also and i kmow that but its happening#im crying at my desk and typing this out at record speeds hehehehehhe#anyways. this is a self report and not a letter ao im being careful even tho im just being in denial about that too#anisha is going to be sooo disappointed in me#today might be the day <3 no more for sash. take care of yourself
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Barnaby from last stream! he's. Yeah <3
#the guy the dude the him! The Most Dog Ever can i get a yeehaw and a hawyee#i swear i will crochet that barnaby head#i know how to do it.... it can be done...#i need his head on my Shelf. or like#idk mounted on a wall plaque or somethin#that would be more realistic. i dont have much shelf space left!#too many books! too many trinkets! too many delightful misc. items!#but still. it would be nice to have him Nearby#part of him at least!#he can join the little home i havent made yet for the wally plush#scribble salad#barnaby b beagle#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#please excuse the hearts i simple Could Not help myself#he is - as wally would say - the most!#I Think I Made His Tie Too Small. Fuck#i mean uh um. little tie for a little guy!
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(Original art) Xaror, any pronouns, species (?), age (?)
short summary about them; they act as both an antagonist and an ally since they are only really interested in what they want or whats fun to them, they are immortal and call themselves 'death itself' since they have a special connection to souls (being the only one able to communicate with them) and the ability to seperate souls from their bodies in such a way that nothing can harm the soul afterwards their main goal is to .. bother and disturb the 'celestials'*, which they hate, as much as they can, breaking into their palace, freeing prisoners, destroying research, destroying the place, and most importantly, making as many souls unusable to them as possible-
they dont want to destroy the celestials though, they cant fight them anyway and this game of doing 'good' only with the goal of annoying them is their most treasured activity, so Xaror doesnt intend to stop them from killing or hurting anyone, only from harvesting what they are actually after (though Xaror doesnt actually care as little as they think they do about people, and has a soft spot for demons)
most of their appearance is later into the story; Zaphira (the empress) had been in coma and the medical facility she was treated in was destroyed by Shargon (orange eyed demon who acts as her bodyguard for the first part) in an attempt to save her from her estranged relatives taking over her country after they heard of her decline in health, she is believed dead but washes up on the shore of the mountain Xaror resides at years later (it has a reason, too much to write here) and they slowly nurse her back to health, the reason they give for it is that they found their first encounter very fun, thats all (is it?)
(more lore under the cut bc this is already so long .. im trying to keep it short q-q ......... this is stuff i have been working on since i was a kid so uh, some things might be cheesy but i cant change them anymore ..)
just to get some basics out of the way; theres three worlds, the celestials palace, human world and demon world, each are their own planet connected via different gateways
*celestials (possibly not final name, loosely based on angels) are the last remaining "survivors" of their planets demise, when their world died the most powerful among them cannibalized the weaker to sustain themselves until there were only less than 10 left, who each turned into different beings from it and dont resemble their own people much anymore, they built a palace from what was left on their world that protects them from space as its atmosphere collapsed shortly after- however they still needed something to live off; they discover the human world and are delighted to find rather short lived people with powerful souls, the best kind of sustenance for them (now), they aim to herd them like cattle, but a problem arose when it turned out another world has long been in contact with the human world; demons
demons are semi immortal creatures that act as protectors for their world, protection they extended, more or less secretely, to the human world ensuring them a long and secure life- the celestials need them to die at their whim though (demons are few in numbers, hard to kill and rarely have offspring, not an ideal target); as they worked out a plan on how to get rid of demons one of the celestials, Xanthriel (time) grew somewhat fond of people as they spent alot of time in the human world to observe and research them; in the end turning on their own completely, but losing the fight against Uriel (knowledge)
Xanthriel was supposed to be executed for their betrayal, but it doesnt work, instead they are splintered into many parts after a lot of struggle, most body, memory and most strength is one part (ending up as motionless forever bleeding corpse kept locked up in the palace), the rest is some time later gathered together and reforms as a seperate, weak mockery of them, they embody Xanthriels emotion- Xaror, without memory, strangely cut to pieces (hence all the missing limbs and broken halo) but driven by an unstoppable desire to disturb the celestials (they live seperate long enough to each become their own person, at some point Xaror discovers Xanthriels body after all and they merge back together, though as they are now two, Xanthriel only takes over once directly after merging, stays silent for a long time and lets Xaror be themselves, only later revealing that they are there at all .. hiding perhaps- i rarely have specific ideas for voices, but Xanthriels is like, like coarse rocks being violently rubbed against each other, less voice more noise)
(also, the celestials use Xanthriels blood from the day of their execution to create a plague that nearly wipes out all demons, only the youngest of them survived, effectively robbing them of everything, culture, history, knowledge etc- as demons rarely have children, like a complete restart of their society, they disappeared from the human world, and over time being largely forgotten as actually existing- the celestials wanted them all gone however, so they kept kidnapping them to try and find somethign that would work similarly against the young ones too (and then in general, bc the only usable blood of Xanthriel was from the day of their fall, and that has long since been used up) one of the young ones was Shargon, he was the only one still alive from his group
(also, the celestials use Xanthriels blood from the day of their execution to create a plague that nearly wipes out all demons, only the youngest of them survived, effectively robbing them of everything, culture, history, knowledge etc- as demons rarely have children, like a complete restart of their society, they disappeared from the human world, and over time being largely forgotten as actually existing- the celestials wanted them all gone however, so they kept kidnapping them to try and find somethign that would work similarly against the young ones too (and then in general, bc the only usable blood of Xanthriel was from the day of their fall, and that has long since been used up) one of the young ones was Shargon, he was the only one still alive from his group (he wasnt the strongest or special, he was jsut the last in the row and always got the lowest dosage) when Xaror found them in yet another break in into the palace and got him back to the demon world .. where he was promptly blamed for the others that were taken and treated like a pretender/fake/spy bc what he got put through changed his eye color (something that demons cannot change in any form) to one that does not exist among 'real' demons (orange ... notice the inner color of Xarors broken halo? :) ), some even suggesting killing him, but none of them were brave enough to do it (they were all kids still) .. except Eadrya (the big blue-ish one, largely regarded as the strongest demon alive) but Shargon managed to escape, and since then lived largely in isolation- this is part of why he is so hated, and why he starts to spend so much time in the human world after rediscovering the pathway there)
#ganondoodles#art#original art#oc#oc lore#i guess??????????#jesus this got so long#even though i tried to leave out as much as i can#god it sounds so meh when writing it out like this#but i swear it all fits together ......... at least a little bit better than it seems to be here#i have had most of this lore for years and years#im only now connecting everything and writing it to makes sense all together#ngl i almost dont want to clikc post#i dont know if i ever wrote this much oc stuff publicly#its like .......... my thinking lifes project#its also 1:30 am and i need to get up early for a dentist appointment hahaaaaaaa#long post#again .........................................#pls excuse any typos i am actively falling asleep as im typing#i havent even gotten into much of the demon lore#the entire element system and lords and king and and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah#just a few days ago i had the idea to make Eadrya actually having been fond of Shargon when they were young#only for him to reappear weird and changed- like an impostor there to end them all at some point#would give it even more reason why Eadrya hates Shargon so much hmmm#i want to thank the three people who will read this rambly wall of text#idk why i even put it on this wonky doodle .... but anyway- written is written
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💌🍷💄💋
idea completely inspired by @sparkles-oflight who said something in the jokeroutblr discord server about something like this being kris's next photoshoot!!! so all credit goes to them and the original model whose photograph i completely referenced
i could never do it justice!!!
#i dont think ive painted like this digitally?? ever?? it was kinda fun actually#joker out#kris guštin#literally have no excuse for this. if any one of my irls find this uhhhhh#dont bring it up to me or i'll kill myself on the spot#surprisingly not the most risque thing ive drawn (check my ao3)#i think the shadows are kinda off but hey good painting practice#i said this was fun but tbh ive been looking at it for so long i just want to be done :sob:#painting is just tiring like there are so many things i know i can polish up.. but id never be done#theres no concrete end point i just have to decide when im done (which is already hard enough for me to do in my regular drawings)#my art
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I Feel TFOne Could've Handled This Better...
Hot take but I feel like folks have been really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment (and thus should be given some grace) when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this?
Like-- after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on that part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words, it's actually cut-and-dry. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 acting up, so he called him out and stood on business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."
It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice and the morality of the moment. Some examples of what I wish we had:
B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.
OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he steels himself to look out towards the horizon... and the future.
Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrrrriiipped-- oops, hey there, Mr. Optimus... Prime... sir?" And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.
Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will barely be a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- like picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.
Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white/good vs bad, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters sprinkled in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to go with the High Guard and ended up sticking around that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly?? Kiiiiinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped, tbh." like come onnnnn...
And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, then he'd probably be back to hurt more people! (If the Quints didn't just kill him out of incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.
I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. (Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too instead of the B-127 bit??)
Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"
Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."
"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"
*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*
#rambling#transformers one#tf one#tfo#i'll be honest a lot of this stems from how rushed i felt the last like... 3rd of the movie feels#i feel Optimus is so dismissive of Megs!! like basically the whole movie but ESPECIALLY after coming back to life as a Prime???#your best friend is Going Through It. clearing having an Emotional Breakdown.#He drops you. In the moment it mattered most he chose violence... but notice what he says right before that?#Megs says ''I'm done saving you''#Like??? y'all don't wanna delve into that a little more?????#i half expected Optimus to pop up and be like ''excuse me. i wasn't done talking. what Did You Mean By That??''#instead he comes up and IMMEDIATELY has already written off this entire relationship as well.#Megs dropped him. it was a aplit second decision. we see in the movie D leaning into these bad impulses.#Orion is supposed to mature gradually so he's more level-headed by the end. why does that equate to abandoning the friendship??#why does he suddenly wanna drop Megs too? wouldn't this be the time for ''please listen to me'' part 2?#''it doesn't matter who has the matrix. we can make a change for the better! please listen to me'' etc#also minor nitpick but lmao why was OP Talking Like That after becoming Prime?#like he goes from ''haha hey guys hows it goin'' to ''You have used your gifts for Evil and Betrayed the entire planet''#babes what. Cybertron?? we went on a 2 day road trip on foot the fuck you know about Cybertron.#like betrayed Iacon maybe but idk maybe the guys in Tarn would be cool with Megs you dont know! lmao!#if my friend and I had beef and they started talking to me like the queen of england i would literally ask where they got their soapbox.#ohhhh you think you're morally superior? stop speaking for the whole planet lmao!! already named prime and letting it go to his head!!#strange dieties lying in the core of the planet distributing magic baubles that bring you back to life#is no basis for picking a planetary leader#this has been Orion Was Right: The Movie#when i wish there was a bit more.#maybe another 20-30 min would have helped me idk hhhhh#but Megs turn felt sooooo fast... then things just kept escalating from there.#''some transformations are permanent'' sir it's been like 48 hours since y'all learned you lives were a lie.#you *really* don't think Megs could ever cool down and apologize/change his mind?? you too??? tf???
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Literally no other way I could describe it right now.
#there are some serious feelings attached to all thats happening#im saddened. im mad. at the end of the day this is how i cope so im sorry if you dont feel like humor is your way out#im disappointed and digusted#personally#neil gaiman#is innocent until proven guilty and my heart goes out to the victims of this whole situation.#i know. i KNOW the right is gonna make it about trans rights and the left is gonna make this about zionism and how these results are#unsurprising due to him being 'either' of these (which im not going into)#because its NOT about those. its the disgusting behaviors he did w those women. consent or not he actively sought out rlly young women.#i hold out a tiny bit of hope but if all things go to shit I dont rlly have anything to fall back on in terms of fandom.#good omens got me through shit. it got me through hell and some my worst times ever.#ive made irreplaceable IRL friends#idk#just some feelings im putting out here. im still gonna 100% support all GO creators (unless they outright excuse NG's actions esp when hes#not yet proven innocent)#but yeah#i havent spoken about this in my other accs and I think this is the only coherent thought I can manage from all of that.#again. really upset. but we got this. were all in this together yk? theres no one side or another to SA but to support the victims.#thats all im rlly gonna say. just remember that Im sending uou guys lots of love. lets get through this <3#[EDIT: I MEANT TO SAY NEIL IS GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT FOR ME !!!!]
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the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍
#struggling to tolerate this one ngl its fucking dire this weekend. i just cant do this man#thr things i would fucking do for attention please. just one person to notice and care in the slighest i feel like im losing my fucking#mind out here how does every single person who has ever mattered to me in my lifr see me in distress and choose to ignore it or maybe they#dont even recognise im ij distress in the first place i dont know whats worse i dont think i hide it well at all im just so done#listen like ultimately its fucking fine. i will get myself through it like ive gotten myself through everything else in my fuckijg life#i dont even feel bad that often these days im doing so so so much better and its so much more tolerable to only have to deal with this#once or twice a week instead of it being a struggle every single day like i dont think i could go back to feeling like that again ever i#dont know how i managed to get througyh it before jesus fucking christ. but i can deal with it i can deal with this#ik ill feel fine tomorrow. its just thr fact im so desperately fucking alone with it that makes it so much worse than it has to be#i fucking hate repression i hate being so incapable of expressing myself that its easier for me to injure myself than it is to talk about#how i feel to anyone i hate being trapped in this stupif fucking torture labyrinth and not knowing how to get out of it and never being#given a single avenue anything to hold onto i hate having to do it alone every single fucking time and when i do try i just freeze out#entirely i cant form a coherent thought my brain enters total fucking shutdown pure static white noise fuzz and i dont know why please#its so unfair i dont think its that much to want a little comfort. just once just for someone to stay with me while i cry it doesnt have#to be more than that i just dont want to be alone like this i just want to feel safe around someone just close to someone just once#and well ill survive without it bc i always have i guess. so far at least. and there are many things im grateful for and i do in general#feel pretty okay my life is pretty good at times even. i feel so pathetic and stupid and ashamed for even feeling like this#but do i have to go my entire life without ever experiencing any kind of real intimacy with another person emotionally that is#i mean physical is nice too and they go hand in hand in some ways but i just want to feel seen and safe over anything.im tired#i feel like i try.but not hard enough i know its all my fault really but i dont know how to try any harder but nothing will ever change if#i dont i cant expect anyone to do anything if i cant rven communicate in thr first place. oh i dont want to think about it anymore#i have a headache from crhing and its not even 8pm ugh. okay. well it is what it is.#ill breathe until i calm down and then tidy up whatever i left in the kitchen and get my work stuff ready for tmr#and polish my boots maybe. and read and go to bed at 9:30 i think. and ill feel fine in the morning#my fault for thinking about it earlier i know i shouldve nipped it earlier on its such an easy spiral to fall into i need to get better#it happens. okay anyway. no cause for concern im good guys. weakly thumbs up at the camera all covered in blood#my period is late actually thats probably all this is lmao. makes sense thinking abt it#cant wait for it to finally start and all earthly desire to leave my body so i never experience pain again amen#.vent#ignore this sorry for being mentally ill im not even that mentally ill anymore so no excuse rly ummmm. bit embarrassing innit.
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being daigo in january 2017 was probably the happiest month of his life because he just got out of jail Again for a crime he didnt commit Again and he's probably thinking how he has to keep running the tojo clan if he wants to respect kiryu even though hes """""""'gone""""""""" or whatever and then some bitch with the newspaper in his ear like 'the governor's trying to evict us what should we do' and i can only imagine the LOUDEST sigh of relief this man had to internalize as he began to flesh out his two-year plan then and there
#snap chats#no one touch this post fuck you im drawing this at some point but im too tired but i still cant stop chortling about it#like i just know daigo was tired as balls so imagine getting THAT kind of out from it all .......#NO MORE GUILT ABOUT IT HE GOT AN EXCUSE NOW#Oh Noooo The Governments Telling Us To Fuck Off :(( I Dont Think Theres Anything We Can Reasonably Do But Dissolve#genuinely the nicest thing aoki ever did in his entire life was give daigo an out of this sisyphean existence and he didnt even know#he just wanted to be a big ol bitch boy and accidentally made daigo the happiest man on earth#ending this post now before i think of IW's plot and get annoyed again vjlkJLKAJVAL GOOD NIGHT EVERYONE#AND ALL THAT PLANNING WAS FOR FUCKING NOTHING /SORRY/ IM STILL BITTER#IM GOING NOW FR BYE STAN DAIGO
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will forever have a soft spot for chloe cause yeah dawg i get it we can try to avoid becoming attached out of the overwhelming fear of being abandoned again but miserably fail together
#she's not the best person ever#but no one is#and i'm not excusing a lot of her actions#like the way she acted when kate called max will always leave me biting my fist out of frustration#but people love to just stare at the surface n focus on the parts of her that aren't great#n don't bother to wonder what got her there#the part that jumps to conclusions and does things out of pure selfishness#and that part that doesn't really think things through...#like shooting that damn bumper#but i GET IT#putting so much trust and love into people just to have them disappear on you especially if you dont know if its intentional#not getting closure can do SO much damage it's not even funny#n it legit can just make you feel like an idiot when you look back like#why did i try so hard just to end up alone#like this girls life went downhill at the age of 14#she just like me fr 😭😭😭😭😭😭#no but#it's hard not to feel like the worlds against you#even at the end she acknowledges that she's been selfish#SO#i don't like believing that she chooses to be this way yknow like#i truly think that she believes acting like a hardass all the time is the only way she'll be able to get by anymore#she lost her dad n then max n then tried again with rachel and then lost her#i'd be fuckin insane too#girl just doesn't wanna be hurt anymore#there's better ways of coping and acting but overall i get where she's coming from#n ill always save her bc i genuinely believe that she deserves a second chance#to live her life and find happiness again#life is strange#chloe price
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i feel shy talking here when i dont have anything worth sharing but i cant help feeling like ive said things in the tags that could be brought up in court
#im joking#i think i just get embarrassed saying smth that most ppl can see out in the open. its like when prey animals are grazing in a pasture#and then they hear a twig snap yk. im like that. but talking in the tags is more comfortable because it just feels more.. hidden?? quiet???#its kind of like how i prefer responding thru asks than DMs.. idk if it has something to do with space or less pressure#i also use these as an excuse to ramble a little abt recent events so. ive worked a little bit on shuffle and prestos backstories ^_^#i was thinking abt giving them a shared past where they knew each other as kids and forgot but i also though hmm.. idk if it would drive th#story i want bc i think itd be better if they bonded over similar experiences instead of the fact that they knew each other before. i get#that reconnecting and reconciling your idea of someone now and then is a good concept but id have to think abt it.. i dont want it to feel#like they owe each other to be friends again just bc they were as kids. ive experienced that a lot and all it did was make me feel guilty#so i think id want to write it as u can be friends with someone who had similar experiences and make u wish you knew each other then#i also know theyd hate each other but idk HOW. i suck at writing conflict so idk if theyd try to make each other eat glass and why#idk if itll ever come up but id also like to see if theres a way i could rationalize why they have animal ears.. normally i say aliens#but ive had an idea for a species and background for that too. although its very abstract and it probably has a lot of holes#smth abt peoples souls attaching themselves to smth they identify with.. although i dont know to what extent like if it can#be called a sona or if it can even be smth mythical like a unicorn or god itself.. its very weird rn#yapping#oc talk
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helia is obv meant to be androgynous and bishounen but I get why people would think he was designed to be a woman initially because his name is a woman's name actually. helia is a girls name. also, compared to avalon or other long haired characters, he's also somewhat more different.
I don't think it's too far fetched. some language groups like greek fans could have other pov. in latin american spanish his name was changed to helio for this very reason.
i know his name is feminine. that still means nothing tbh
sky is a popular girl's name in the west. does that mean he's automatically a girl? like no of course not. no one is arguing that sky is a woman just because of his name. griffin is a masculine latin name. don't see anyone questioning her. if his name is the Only proof people have that helia was meant to be a girl, that's weak when other characters also have feminine/masculine names that don't align with their canon gender.
also, you need to ask yourself, what is different about helia? like actually answer that question. what exactly makes helia different from characters like palladium, valtor, or avalon. it's not his body - helia has the same muscular body the other specialists have and he's one of the few male characters we see shirtless on screen. it can't be pacifism - he's not a pacifist and pacifism is not a feminine trait. it can't be art or poetry - neither of those things are feminine traits/hobbies. it can't be his fashion - he's just wearing a shirt and jeans. if anything his wardrobe would be considered more masculine compared to the crop tops the other specialists are wearing (even for the time). it can't be his personality - nabu is also wiser and gentler, timmy is also a simp, brandon is also caring.
so what exactly makes helia different from other long haired male characters?
nothing. that's your answer.
the only thing that makes helia So different is that other long haired male characters are often coded as white Or specifically have darker skin, so fans don't feel the need to question their masculinity (which is a Whole other discussion). helia is not coded as white. even fans who don't consciously realize it are still picking up on that coding. these white fans then feel comfortable questioning his masculinity because they've done that to men of color for decades. it's not just asian men either. white people love to question the masculinity of all men of color, regardless of race or skin color. that's how they demean them. how they separate them from white men. they uphold certain racial and gender stereotypes and then demean any man who "doesn't fit that". which in their eyes, is all men of color.
it's like this: man of color doesn't adhere to western/white/european cultural standards > white people realize, don't like, insult them, and try to make them feel like they need to adhere > white men prioritize the patriarchy and feel the need to glorify it > in order to insult men of color, they specifically call out and question their masculinity > white people around the world think this is genuinely innocent because it focuses on gender instead of race > white racists get away with it
listen, i know at first this seems like a really harmless and maybe even amusing topic. "oh helia is so pretty people think he's a girl ahahah". and for some fans it is genuinely harmless. they just think he's too pretty to be a man. and then they realize, laugh it off, and don't question it again.
unfortunately, that's not the case for a lot of other fans. it's not innocent. it's not harmless. it's white people picking up on racial coding and questioning his identity because of it. you guys don't do this to other characters. you don't do it to sky, who also has a "feminine" name. you don't do it to palladium, who is slimmer and has a gentler, nicer personality. you don't do it to saladin. or nabu. or ogron. or gantlos. or anagan. or tritannus. or nereus. or king neptune. or king teredor.
all of those names are male characters with long hair.
i know it's nice to assume that this is innocent and genuine. but unfortunately, that's not the case. this is an example of something that isn't innocent for a majority of adult, white fans. even if they're not doing it On Purpose. subconscious bias is called that for a reason.
#and i do want to clarify that i dont see an issue with kids doing this#like its specifically Adult fans i have an issue with#because they should know better by now#also like has it ever occurred to anyone that helia having a feminine name was them adding to the shojo androgynous vibe#like.#givelian from the comics.. gregory.. holly dark.. king nobody..#literally a dude's name is HOLLY dark and no one is questioning him alkdlga#please im begging you guys give it up#nothing about helia implies that he was meant to be a girl#the name excuse has always been flimsy#also when people say this argument makes no sense because helia is white because his name is greek#like do you guys think musa is an asian name#stop.. just stop.... for two decades fans have discussed this and no one has gotten closer to proving that he was meant to be a girl#and im sorry but when other characters have the exact same attributes that helia has that people Insist must mean he was#it just makes it more obvious when you never talk about them too#like griffin is a masculine name! why not question her femininity?#sky is a popular girl's name! why not question his masculinity?#you never do this to other (white) characters so why do the same qualities mean anything for helia?#also anon to be clear when i say you im using that in a general way i dont mean You specifically#answered#also i know this is long and i want to clarify that im not mad at you or anything#i dont know if any of this sounds mad but#im just soooo tired of this rumor its so dumb aljdghaljg#and when people make an innocent mistake its Fine#but after this long most people doing it are not making an innocent mistake#its on purpose#after this many years.. after so many other long haired male characters.. its not innocent unfortunately#certain (ie white) fans tend to target characters of color like aisha musa nabu etc and helia isnt an exception#even with his racial coding being somewhat ambiguous (at least more than others) people can still tell he's not white#and they treat him accordingly
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what if i wrote a video essay
#i have a few floating around in my head but dont know if i have the confidence to pull them off LMAO#mainly the things I'm thinking about are-#pokemon ranger videos- mainly for guardian signs but also shadows of almia. I'd make it a trio of videos for all 3 games#kirby mass attack bc i Liked That Game as a kid and also want an excuse to get my own copy now#zelda phantom hourglass (also spirit tracks) bc My Beloved (my first zelda game)#animalia the australian animated series abt some kids going to a world of talking animals#bc i watched it one summer as a kid and it lived in my head rent free ever since and i was So upset there wasn't more of it#maybe hollow knight bc that game altered my dna#and then mr magorium's wonder emporium. bc that movie is just delightful#and other than that probably talking about indie games i like and shitty point and click games i played as a kid#i want to write about why i love the stories that i love but i don't know if i can actually. make myself do that.#procrastination seems to be a large raccoon that's settled in on my lap and started purring (did you know raccoons can purr it's delightful)
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it took a very long time to get to this point again w/ a lot of internal misery along the way but i think im at a point of being tentatively happy with my art in its current state and how it's improving for the first time since like, community college pre-chronic pain (and arguably the first time Ever wrt digital art)
#txt#i dont actively want to make art for like. Public Consumption really i still want 90% of what i make to be for my eyes only#because forcibly taking that philosophy is the main reason ive been able to settle back into a routine of drawing being regular in my life#i still have a lot i want to learn and get used to (again or for the first time) and am still definitely Struggling in some areas. but.#having fun + playing + experimenting + etc.#artfight is also very helpful so far in terms of like. firm encouragement to finish pieces instead of abandoning things a 3rd of the way in#and also as an outlet FOR art meant to be publicly viewed by others. giving me an excuse to experiment and polish things#while not feeling pressured to do that All The Time either#ofc its not like ive ever been a full time artist or anything esp not on social media. and i know i didnt always feel that pressure#i think one reason that disconnect really started is because before trying digital art i Would just doodle on everything#but with digital art it felt like there was more of a pressure to Make Pieces that Look Good with materials i wasnt familiar w/ yet#SHRUG. idk#i just hope i can stay in this general zone art-wise for a while
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