#i love when the wrong answers are better than the correct ones
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vivianblue · 2 days ago
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Doesn't the existence of bell hooks along with her compassionate and phenomenal works literally disputes the whole idea that "The Left hates men" though?
bell hooks IS part of The Left, and correct me if I'm wrong but her central thesis in "The Will to Change" and "All About Love" isn't to point out how it's failure on leftists for not coddling men enough, but to point out how the patriarchy hurts men as well. The people who should read bell hooks are not mean leftists, but precisely MEN who feels they can and should deserve better than what this system of oppression has to offer them, and open up their perspective beyond the false dichotomy of "Accept Calvinism & Eternal Punitive Justice from The Oppressed" OR "Be The Oppressor & Enjoy Your Privileges (you earn this by being more Superior than other people)".
Men being drawn to the alt-right pipeline is not due to mean women and leftists. It's because like,... it's good to be a man under the patriarchy, because it benefits men at the expense of other people. This is just basic sociological analysis backed by historical facts that we should agree on. However, in some situations even by stating: "privileges exist and a lot are unearned/built on oppressing other groups", you would already be inviting a lot of hostility, because acknowledging this issue for a lot of people is Emotionally Challenging (and I'm saying that with no attached judgement).
We can examine a similar emotional response to see why this would be challenging - White Fragility. According to Ford, Green & Gross (2022), the psychological process underpinned it goes like this:
1. Generally, people want to be viewed as a Good Person.
2. Acknowledging systemic issues and how integral one's role as the "oppressor" in those issues can feel incongruent to the goal of wanting to be a Good Person (and might lead to guilt or shame).
3. This feeling can worsen when the person feels like they don't have the resources necessary to tackle a particular situation without coming off as a racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. (aka what many people would internalize as a Bad Person).
Many men could start out wanting to do good, but then find out that "doing good" requires more than just extending niceness on an individual basis. It's also about working on yourself and learning more about the world and other people's experiences and actively preventing harms, because anyone has the potential to do harm and the damage caused is in correlation to how much power you have over others. Everyone is capable of being racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. in a society where those actions are so normalized. Doesn't mean everyone is Inherently a Bad Person, but it does mean there are a LOT of choices to navigate and you will make mistakes, and people are going to be understandably cautious around you if you haven't worked on yourself enough since again - you can harm them. It is unjust to force people to love you, especially at the threat of you becoming a violent raging Nazi.
The dilemma of "Why should I help the people I've harmed when I get nothing but feeling of shame in return" are common human issues, and it's not entirely unique to cishet white men. The alt-right denies the questions entirely by saying that "No men, YOU have never done anything wrong. If anything it's those minorities and women who are harming you, and you're in the right for wanting to punish them back." Why takes responsibility when it turns out, you're the Good, Rational and Superior Guy all along?
The real answer is quite direct and Literally lies in bell hooks' writings, specifically "All About Love", and is only made difficult and obscure by the relentless effort to paint feminists and leftists as this homogeneous, hateful group who want to antagonize men. It's not about the unconditional love that women and The Left MUST have for men as a Reward for existing and being such a Good Boy. It's about the Love men should have for themselves and the world. Why must you do good by yourself, by women, by your fellow men, by your sons or daughters or neighbors or community? If you love someone, you want the best for them. The best for who and what you love would be for you do good actions and make good decisions that benefit everyone, and yourself. Love is not earned, it's something you do.
“The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women. Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves. If an individual is not successful in emotionally crippling himself, he can count on patriarchal men to enact rituals of power that will assault his self-esteem.”
At the end of the day, women and leftists aren't the problem. It's the lack of resources re: point (3) and again, not due to leftists not providing them, but due to the patriarchy and people having an interest in not seeking them out or censoring them (e.g. the attack on critical race theory in uni).
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I couldn't have said it better myself.
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ciphers-fr · 1 year ago
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on my hands and knees begging Fiona for a chicken “please ma’am could you spare a fowl for this poor soul?”
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wonusite · 1 year ago
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Endless Adoration
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❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞
PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader
GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating
A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.
Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.
His little sister, however, does not see it that way.
Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.
Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.
“It’s caramel.”
You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”
Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.
Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.
“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.
“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”
Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.
“It’s caramel.”
“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”
Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”
It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.
“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”
Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.
“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”
It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”
Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.
“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”
“You what?”
His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.
Fuck.
You were going to kill him.
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It’s not Mingyu’s fault.
When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.
“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.
Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.
Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.
You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.
Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.
Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”
The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.
“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”
He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.
“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”
The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”
Fuck.
Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.
The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.
“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”
Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.
“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.
Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”
All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.
When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.
You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.
You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.
“Are you ready?”
Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.
“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”
You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”
The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.
“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”
“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.
Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.
You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.
“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”
Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.
“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”
His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.
“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.
Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.
“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.
Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.
“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”
Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.
“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.
You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”
Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.
The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.
When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.
Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.
The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.
“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.
You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.
Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.
“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”
The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.
Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.
Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.
“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.
“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”
You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”
Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”
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In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.
The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.
It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.
The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.
“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.
His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.
“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”
Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.
Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.
“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”
Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”
“Why? That’s why I have you.”
Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.
By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.
The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.
“Here.”
You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.
“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.
The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.
For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.
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Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.
He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.
Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.
It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.
Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.
“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.
Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.
Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.
Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.
These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.
Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.
In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.
At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.
As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.
After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.
Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.
When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.
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“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”
It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.
“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”
Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.
Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.
“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”
The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.
“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”
“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.
“You’re not?”
“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”
Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.
“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”
He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.
The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.
If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.
Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.
“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.
The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.
Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.
“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.
As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.
You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.
“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”
“I want you to fuck me now.”
Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”
He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.
“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”
You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.
Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.
“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”
You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.
“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.
Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.
“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”
The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.
“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”
When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.
Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.
You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”
That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.
“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”
You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.
Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.
Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.
If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.
Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.
“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”
Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.
“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.
Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.
“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.
Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.
It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.
“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.
Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.
His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.
“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”
Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.
Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.
Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.
“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.
Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.
You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.
When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”
You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.
Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.
“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.
You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”
He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.
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taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors
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imasimpforshanks · 1 year ago
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how they respond to you asking “what do you even like about me?”
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ft. ace, luffy, sanji, shanks, sabo, law, zoro
a/n: not me actually having MORE ideas to post????? BUT FOR REAL THO I’m so awful when it comes to posting i either have lots of ideas and no self control so post things IMMEDIATELY or i disappear for 8 months 😭😭😭😭😭 like i know I literally post what like 9 hours ago but here we are again 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️I’m too impatient LOL
also this is fluff fluff and more fluff!!! maybe a hint of insecurities????? not really though just silly stuff! Fem!reader in aces one but other than no specified gender!! love ya’ll please enjoy xxxxxx
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ace looks at you incredulously for a second. “really?” he asks, and when you nod in response ace pulls you into his arms laughing fondly, “i mean what’s not to like? you’re literally my dream girl!”
you smile at the way luffy’s eyebrows furrow and his lips pull into a pout as he ponders your question for a moment. you find your smile widening as luffy stands up, stretches his arms to the sky and shouts with so much joy you can feel it radiate from his body, “you’re you! that’s what i like. no wait- that’s what i love!”
sanji looks slightly taken aback by your question, “if you’re asking me that, it seems i have failed as a boyfriend! im so sorry, my love.” to immediately right his wrong, sanji takes your hand in his own, kneels before you and begins listing off each and every thing he likes (loves) about you, punctuating each one with a kiss to your hand.
“your ass,” shanks instantly replies with a chuckle, but when he notices you’re unimpressed by his answer he pulls you into his lap and says reassuringly, “you are the love of my life. i love every single thing about you.” and when you playfully retort ”much better” he can’t help but tease, “and for real i reaaaaally love your ass.”
“well, there’s nothing i ‘like’ about y-“ sabo begins before quickly correcting himself, “no wait, what i mean is�� im so in love with you that there’s nothing i only ‘like’ about you.” he pauses before continuing, “does that make sense? there’s nothing to like - only things to love!” he finishes his sentiment with a firm kiss to your lips.
law mistakes your genuine curiosity as questioning his love for you, so he immediately stops what he is doing, turns to face you and apologize, “im so sorry i don’t tell you enough. i’ll do better.” and ever a man of his word, you wake up the next morning to hand written list of all the things he likes about you (and the next day, and the next).
zoro pauses for a moment, practically malfunctioning as his mind blanks while he struggles to come up with an answer, because he doesn’t even know where to begin, “i-i uh- i don’t know…” but then you’re turning away from him with a pout and glossy eyes and he surprises himself when he blurts, “there’s just too much to choose from.” then you’re asking him to repeat himself and zoro complies, saying (much more confidently this time around), “i wouldn’t even know where to start because there’s too many things i like about you.”
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aycius · 4 months ago
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GQ’s COUPLE QUIZ: JJK MEN EDITION!‧₊˚
feat. sukuna ryomen, satoru gojo, nanami kento, choso kamo & toji fushiguro
author’s note. this was inspired by rihanna & A$AP’s couple’s quiz together, i love them so badly!
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SUKUNA RYOMEN
this cocky ass mf… everyone can already tell that this man doesn’t want to be here (that’s how confident he is that he’ll get all the questions right). literally as you guys were driving here he made you bet that if he got all the questions correctly, you give him massages for the whole week and when you asked what was in it for you, he gave a taunting laugh and said there wouldn’t be because he’d answer everything correctly… well, turns out there truly ISN’T anything for you because he actually managed to answer the questions correctly, short and simple answers and when the sound of the ‘ding’ comes on he literally SMIRKS at the camera. the crew was stunned to say the least and now he’s trending on all social media platforms as everyone’s “dream man.” some people were mad and claimed that the both of you premeditated answer because of how quickly he responded. has ‘i know my girl better than anyone else” written all over his face.
SATORU GOJO
overconfident (it’s gojo we’re talking about, c’mon). literally the definition of ‘loud and wrong.’ will confidently answer a question incorrectly and try to tell YOU that his answer was correct, and yours wasn’t. smirks when you smack him on the chest for being a dumbass and literally everyone in the room can sense the tension from the both of you. licks his lips and leans closer to you but you use his middle finger and thumb to flick his forehead away, a VERY KIND reminder that you guys are in public. he’s getting flamed on twitter from getting ‘rejected’ by his own girlfriend. LOL.
NANAMI KENTO
this poor man… went in so confident that he’d be able to answer the questions correctly but 5 questions in and he’s already a flat tire. please cut the dude some slack. literally kid you not this man full on SIGHS with ALL his might before muttering a little “baby…” when you ask him how many follicles of hair are on your head. you decide that the questions you’re asking him are a teeny bit too unfair so you die it down and ask him more normal questions to which he answers them all correctly. you don’t forget to sprinkle in those unreasonable questions every once in a while because kento’s defeated face is just so cute.
CHOSO KAMO
an absolute angel. literally radiates light when he gets an answer right, his smile so wide that you can’t help but laugh at how cute he is. when he gets one wrong he brings out his hand across the table for you to grasp and plays with your fingers while you explain the correct answer and he nods along, silently repeating it to himself so he remembers for later. you have to bite back a smile with all the cameras on your face.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
doesn’t follow the rules. absolutely indecisive. blurts out a bunch of different answers because he’s scared of getting them wrong. literally stares at you like you’re the one answering the questions and you tell him carefully “you know this one” — he doesn’t. it was supposed to be soothing but it sounded more like a threat if anything. you asked him what your first name was and he even answered that incorrectly… he claims it’s because he isn’t a good test taker… he already know he’s in big trouble when he gets home.
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writteninkat · 4 months ago
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What made you fall for these MHA men?
w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari
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warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff
a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage
navigation
KATSUKI BAKUGOU
this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo
whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)
find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.
one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box
chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.
history? which one? japanese? american? french?
ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.
yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.
yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing
seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him
you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)
EIJIRO KIRISHIMA
he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?
you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door
it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?
if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry
no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best
whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.
hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you
always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink
problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.
yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him
IZUKU MIDORIYA
the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning
it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing
you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might
he's also incredible passionate about being a hero
the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching
whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse
feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are
whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up
whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!
problem here? he does that with everyone.
he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.
or are you?
SHOTO TODOROKI
you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.
at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.
you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.
mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.
shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them
"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk
"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.
"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.
you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.
another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him
class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands
wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.
how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face
he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.
DENKI KAMINARI
this man cracks you up with no fail
the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure
he's got every kind of humor in his chamber
dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"
corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."
dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"
yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud
you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you
this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks
when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.
what made you really feel for him though?
when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing
even katsuki cursed you out for being sick
apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-
"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.
"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.
denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.
"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."
your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.
"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"
and you do.
and he does.
and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.
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redflagshipwriter · 9 months ago
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Batmom Cass : enter Barbara
Part one of 2
“You did good work,” Barbara said, in a casual tone. Proud.
Timmybird nodded and gave a flash of teeth in a smile. Didn't believe. It's nothing, look away. “Glad you think they'll pass.” He rolled his neck. “I don't want anyone to be able to prove he's Danny F.”
Cass watched their interplay casually, hair damp from the post-patrol shower and comfortably swimming in an oversized sweatshirt. She played with the ends of the sleeve as they talked.
“They can suspect it all they like, but it'd be hard to disprove this is a separate kid.” Barbara ran her palms over her wheelchair handles in an unconscious tic that meant she wanted to go, go, go. “Still, I like the idea of keeping him out of the public eye until we nail down what's going on in Illinois. This GIW group is bad news.”
Cass bit her lip and flexed her toes, uncertain. Danny was getting restless. And he was a teenager: he needed to be in school. He needed to learn, stretch his wings, grow.
But safe. He needed to be safe, first.
The trouble was she didn't know how to make him fully safe. She'd had him for four days now. Judging by the report of his death, Danny baby had been homeless and on the run for more than a month. He was hiding. Even when she was in the room, he was looking for attacks. Who was he looking for? Dad and mom Fenton? GIW group?
“-gonna hit the showers,” said her little brother.” Cash barely registered him heading to the batcave bathrooms. She was internally weighing her bat nosiness sense against her worry about pushing Danny for answers too soon.
“Am I good to meet him, Mamabird?”
Cass blinked back to awareness. “Mama bat,” she corrected. “Yes.” She cracked her lower back. Mm. Too much standing after patrol. She needed to move a little. “Breakfast. Baby wakes up soon.”
Barbara snorted. “I'll go to bed after,” she said wryly, because they had been flying and solving into the morning light. Riddler was out on the streets. “Did someone check with Alfred about adding me to the breakfast table?”
She didn't know. Cass hummed and flipped over to walk on her hands up the stairs. It sent a pleasant ache through her upper back. Stabilizing her core and legs was just the right amount of casual challenge to make her body feel better.
“Christ,” Barbara said quietly, and huffed out a laugh. The elevator dinged. “I'll see you upstairs.”
Barbara Batgirl beat Cass to the top. Cass huffed in displeasure at the loss and flipped back to her feet. She ducked into the first bathroom they passed to wash her hands.
Alfie was in the kitchen in his morning waistcoat and a thin, comfortable button up shirt. Casual day!
“Good morning, Miss Cassandra,” he said. The kitchen smelled like yeasty bread. Cass sneezed happily and peered around to see meats, cheeses, and fruits.
“Morning!” She chirped. “Barbara wants to stay for breakfast,” Cass said. Barbara wheeled in a moment later, sheepish.
“Good morning, Alfred,” she said. “If it's not too much trouble-”
“It's no trouble at all,” he reassured. “Miss Cassandra, would you add an extra place setting?”
Cass hopped to it, mimicking the placement Alfred had made. It was a nearly full table today. Timbird, Batdad, Dickbird, Cass, Danny baby, Damibat. And now Barbara bat.
She heard a jaw-cracking yawn before Danny swung open the door. “Good morning,” Danny baby yawned through his hand. His eyes were bleary. She watches with amusement as he shuffled in, face down. “Have a good ni-”
He stopped. Eyes on Barbara bat.
New adult, he was scared?
No. Cass rapidly calculated and shifted his shifting body language into emotions. Surprise, joy, love-love-lo-wrong! Not love! Sad. Wistful.
“This is my baby,” Cass said, pretending she didn't notice the reaction. “Danny. This is Barbara.”
Barbara must have noticed Danny's reaction to her. She didn't move closer, lifting a friendly hand from across the countertop.
Danny looked haunted. Danny looked small. “It's nice to meet you, Barbara,” he said. Weak smile.
She had to talk to him, Cass realized. She had to talk with him today. No more delaying. After breakfast, she would talk.
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lovedrruunk · 1 month ago
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Arcane women and their very specific toxic traits/red flags
this hurt my soul to make but THE TRUTH MUST BE SPOKEN!!!
Caitlyn, constantly feels the need to correct you. Whether it be your grammar, spelling, literally just anything you get wrong, you best believe she’s right there correcting you like the KNOW IT ALL she is. She also has the tiniest savior complex but if you point it out she'll deny it and get defensive. If you don’t meet her high standards or expectations (that r UNSPOKEN), she’ll try to “help” you improve but it just feels more like constant nitpicking than support.
Sevika, don’t even try to ask this woman something. 100% believes in stupid questions. If you ask her something she deems as dumb she will actually get so pissed off even if you’re completely serious. She’ll give you this look of pure annoyance/disappointment that will honestly just make you shut yourself up. Loves to answer with “’Dunno.” WHEN SHE DAMN WELL BE KNOWING!!!! Has a whole “Figure it out yourself” attitude
Jinx, never gives you details about anything. Will just randomly leave the house without telling you where she's going because she thinks there's no reason for you to know. She doesn't do it to be secretive like she genuinely just doesn't understand why you need to know if it has 'nothing to do with you.' If you scold her about it she'll pretend to understand but still won't remember to tell you whenever she goes out (oh this would drive me crazy I would kill her)
Vi, has a really bad interrupting problem. You'll be telling her about something and if you say even one word that reminds her of something else she'll bring it up and change the entire conversation topic. She thinks she's being engaging but really it's just super annoying and makes you not even want to tell her about your day because you know she'll just end up talking about something else.
Mel, is lowkey highkey really manipulative... like she definitely knows how to use her charm to get you to do what she wants. She's like so good at it too like you won't notice what she was doing until you're already stuck doing what she's asked for. She's so like nice and sweet with the way she gives you attention right before asking you to get something done for her.
edit: I WROTE THIS LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS SLEEP DEPRIVED AND FORGOT I POSTED IT LMAO I feel like these could’ve been better so maybe part 2 soon…
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mushies-stories · 8 months ago
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Drinking- how TF141 handles a clingy drunk reader for the first time
PART ONE- Price and Soap
PART TWO- Ghost and Gaz
F!Reader
Warnings: drunk reader, little tiny bit suggestive... think that's it?
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
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Kyle had gotten off work a bit early, the mission going faster than expected but just as tiring. The only thing on his mind was seeing you, he needed to feel your soft body against his.
He called you from his car, figuring it was early enough and you'd still be awake. He was correct, but when you answered the phone you didn't sound like your usual self. Your words are slow and a little slurred. “Baby, ya okay?” he asks.
You hum a response. “M’okay, just been drinking a little.” you tell him. 
“Sounds like it, you alone at home love?” he asks, a little nervous. It wasn't like you to get drunk by yourself, or really that often at all actually.
“Yeah… but could you come over, please.” your voice was a little shaky and it twisted something in Kyle's gut. 
“Of course lovie. Be there in just a bit, eh?” he tells you. His drive was faster than normal, you sounded off and it worried him. His only thought was to get to you and the elevator ride up to your flat seemed endless. 
When you entered he saw you sitting on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, glass of red wine and an almost empty bottle next to it. 
Your head turned when you heard his steps and the sound of his shoes being kicked off. “Kyle.” you say quietly. Standing you shed the blanket and take a few shaky steps towards him. 
He rushed to meet you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against himself. Your own arms wrap around his middle, gripping the back of his shirt. “What's wrong love, why ya crying?” he asks, voice tender and soft. His warm eyes looking over your tear stained cheeks before wiping a tear away. 
You give him a small shrug. “I'm just so tired, and work was stressful. I just wanted to relax a little and I knew you are normally at the base late...” you admit. 
Kyle hums softly before kissing the top of your head. “Well, drinking is no way to feel better, right lovie?” he asks, making sure you look at him by guiding your face to look at his. “Next time, just let me know, be over as soon as i can.” he tells you. 
You give him a small smile. “I will, I'm sorry I know I was overreacting.”
“None of that love, let's just get ya to bed.” he says with a sweet smile. You lean into his touch and nod. 
He figured after such a stressful day you should take a hot bath. Topped with some essential oils he found it was ready. You both relax in the warm water. Kyle behind you so you can rest your head on his chest. 
“Thank you kyle.” you mumble. Eyes closed and soldering his arms around you, you sigh constantly. “I love you.” you add, a little slower and sleepier. 
Kyle smiles down at you. Perfectly content in his arms, just as he wanted. Here to keep you safe and happy. “Anything for your lovie, I love ya too.” he says. Just above a whisper, the last coherent words you heard before drifting off. 
When you had dozed off Kyle gathered your body in his arms and brought you to bed then wrapped you in a fluffy towel. The whole time you barely even stirred in your sleep. He crawled in next to you and wrapped you in his arms once again, this time pulling your head to his chest, arm holding you back so your firm against him. 
He kisses your nose. “Goodnight love.” he says. That night you both slept soundly. Kyle happily content with your bare body against his own.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
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Simon had called after getting back from a long mission, wanting to see you instead of going home alone. All he needed at the moment was your arms wrapped around him. 
To his delight you had picked up, even in the late hour. To his disappointment however, it sounded like you were out with friends.
That didn't seem to mean much to you. Judging by your excited time when you answered. “Si? You home already?” you ask, smile evident in your tone. 
He smiles to himself. “Yeah, sound busy though doll, see ya tomorrow?” he offers. 
You make a sound of displeasure. “But I gotta see you tonight Si, please? I'll get an uber right now!” Simon just chuckles and tells you to stay put, he will come and get you. 
Not even twenty minutes later and you're in his passenger seat with his hand on your bare thigh and a drunkenly sweet smile plastered across your face. You loved admiring Simon, even with most of his face concealed. Everything about him made you drawn to him. 
“See something ya like love?” Simon chuckles and glances over to you. His hand on your thigh squeezes the soft skin.
You nod and giggle. “Always see something I like around you, Si.” 
He snorts before paying attention to the road, eyes focus on getting home. You babbled about your night with your friends and he nodded along, humming in response when he needed to agree with you, all the while his hand rests on your warm plush thigh and a small smile plays at his lips. 
You were adorable. The way you stared at him the whole time like he was the moon, the way your hands laid atop his and gripped it when you talked. 
He loved the attention. From you, and only you that is. Loved that you just wanted to see him, needed too. 
When you got back to his place, he carried you in. insisting that the stairs were too much for you and it would be faster. “S’alright love, just let me bring you up. Be much faster.” he explained.
The whole way you kissed at his neck, making sure to lift his mask enough so you could pepper them to his jawline. “Lovie, none of tha. S’to late and you.” he glanced down at you and your blushing cheeks, warm from the alcohol. “Are much too hammered.” he chuckles, stepping into his flat before closing and locking the door. 
“But Si… I missed you so much, you were gone for a whole week.” you pout softly up at him after he set you down on his bed.
One of his hands comes out to cradle the side of your head, making you look up at him and hold his gaze. “Don't worry lovie, when your pretty little head is pounding tomorrow, I'll make sure to do everything I can to help you forget about it.” he promises. 
I shiver rolls down your back and you smile dumbly up at him, the thought of what to come already turning the little gears in your head. Simon however forces you to push the thoughts aside and get ready for bed instead.
With you in only his shirt, his mask set aside and his protective arm wrapped securely around your middle, you start to drift off. “Love you Simon, can't wait for tomorrow.” 
Simon kisses the side of your head. “Love you too doll, can't wait.”
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solaireverie · 1 year ago
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cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?
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summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions
request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!
warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending
author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it
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5,891 likes
ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞
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user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?
↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬
user i hope she's okay...
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Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone. 
“Do you have news yet?” she asks.
“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you. 
“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”
“Yeah?”
“She better be okay when I get there.”
Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1. 
“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.
There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him. 
“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?” 
Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open. 
Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.
“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.
A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”
Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?” 
The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.” 
Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests. 
After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.
Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.
“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”
Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.
He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.
“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”
Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants. 
He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.
He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you. 
Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.
Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.
“Where do I sign?”
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora
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sai4u · 4 months ago
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★ — couple of the year .ᐟ
⤷ gq couple interviews with nct dream
⌗ ft .∿ dream ot7 x reader
⌗ genre + warnings .∿ fluff + someone please jeno from this
⌗ trini’s note .∿ okay last re upload from the deleted blog 😭. also if you never seen a gq couple quiz, here’s one of my favorite examples :)
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⤹ ⊹ mark lee .ᐟ
✶ mark would have extreme confidence that he would get all the questions correct. at most, maybe one or two questions wrong but he wouldn’t sulk it off, he would more than likely say, “I knew that” or “that was my second guess, I swear”
✶ weirdly enough, he would get the much deeper, or “harder”, questions correct more than the basic questions like what’s your middle name or what’s your favorite color
✶ for the deeper questions he gets correct, he would constantly answer, “see, I told you I knew you baby” with his lil smirk or a sly smile
✶ I think mark would almost always have a story attached majority of the questions you asked him. some are embarrassing, some have you giving a belly laugh, and some are sentimental. the sentimental ones, he’s holding eye contact with you, matching your smiles, and mouthing, ‘i love you’
✶ as for questions about him, he would let out an exaggerated sigh when you get them wrong. he would act so heartbroken and go on this dramatic ramble of how he thought his partner knew him
⤹ ⊹ huang renjun .ᐟ
✶ renjun is a shy lil thing for these types of interviews. quite nervous that he’ll get some wrong but confident enough that he’ll get most of them right. though, he does believe he’ll get more questions right than you will and he wasn’t wrong
✶ he would stand firm on the questions he got wrong that he thinks he got correct. he blames you that you never told him this information or that you’re a liar, sometimes side-eyes you before you say if he’s wrong or right. if he got it wrong, he would have hard evidence that he is correct and even state word for word on when you said the correct answer in the past
✶ as for questions about him, he would maybe allow bonus points. it depends on how many bonus questions you gave him, which would total how much or how little bonus points you get
✶ ngl, renjun can become a petty lil mf when it comes to his questions. he think it’s only right after the struggle you put him through answering some of those questions and fighting for his case
⤹ ⊹ lee jeno .ᐟ
✶ slightly like mark and has extreme confidence that he’ll get every question right except….anyways ! it’s not that he’s not an attentive bf (cause he is, trust !) but he’s truly shocked at how many he gets wrong. but at the same time, the ones he thinks he is wrong, he gets right ??? idk man. he knows who was your first best friend but doesn’t know your favorite meal…
✶ a lot of laughs are shared between the two of you cause it truly is funny at his reactions at whether or not he’s right. usually his jaw is dropped; if he’s right he nods his head in a slightly cocky manner but if he’s wrong, he shakes his head and curses himself
✶ but at the same time, you throw him some bonus points to help cause poor baby is not doing so good. in the end for the questions about you, he doesn’t do as bad but he believe that definitely isn’t his best and plans to be a better bf to you
✶ for questions about him, he assumes just about half the time that you won’t get this question right, and it could be the most basic questions anyone could easily answer. like why is mans shocked that you know his favorite artist and his favorite pastime…?
⤹ ⊹ lee haechan .ᐟ
✶ it turned from a cute quiz to a full blown competition. out of all of dream, his confidence is at an all time, always, when it comes to being the best boyfriend God can put on this earth. but oh do you have something planned for him
✶ haechan is more than a thousand percent confirmed that he’ll get all answers right and sits in his seat with such confidence. you roll your eyes and look through the questions as he continues to boast
✶ the questions were going good, ofc he was getting every single correct cause again, he’s the best (he prefers the term “perfect) you could ever have. until it’s questions that even you may not know the answer to that starts to trip him. he thinks you’re pranking him, even after you assured him that you aren’t
✶ haechan would trip you up so you can forget the correct answers to your questions. a firm believer that haechan would sit in a certain position to have you gushing, you try to hide your smile while asking the question but it’s no use when he’s around
✶ though when it’s his turn to ask the question, he is absolutely terrible. he’ll throw in bonus questions to trip you up and when you get them wrong, he is so dramatic my goodness. he’s even worse than mark and think it’s the death of him that you don’t remember his comfort meal
⤹ ⊹ na jaemin .ᐟ
✶ jaemin is actually mellow about his confidence for this couples quiz. he’s as confident as haechan but not nearly as bad as haechan can get. don’t get me wrong, he always assures that he’s the number one boyfriend material but thankfully know he’s not perfect
✶ I’d say out of all dream, jaemin would have, I believe, the third highest score. potentially a tie with renjun for second if he tries hard enough. he gets the easy and hard questions correct without breaking a sweat and sometimes throw in extra info for that question, just to show that he really is attentive
✶ throughout the quiz, he would blow air kisses and reach to grab your hand but you would think that he’s trying to cheat. which leads you to move it out of his reach and leaving him with a small pout
✶ another pouter on our hands guys ! he mostly pouts when he doesn’t get his bonus points or when you reject bonus points from him. no jaemin, you cannot get two bonus points just cause you named your partner’s dream career out of nowhere
✶ when it comes to jaemin’s questions, he is very nice about it and isn’t too harsh with the questions. though, he does throw some curveballs so prepared for that. he’ll go from what’s favorite movie to who’s the first person he talked to on the phone that day
⤹ ⊹ zhong chenle .ᐟ
✶ an actual comedy show when a couples quiz and chenle is combined. listen, he believes these questions doesn’t prove that he is a good boyfriend but he will do it just for the sake of you :p
✶ but at the same time, he will put on a game face and take this couples quiz veryyyy seriously. he refuses to even let a slim of doubt enter you just cause of a couple incorrect answers. I do believe as just as the amount of answers he gets correct, his ego gets stronger and you can tell from his stance
✶ though, (just like renjun) almost every answer he would get wrong, he would firmly believe that he is right. he’ll have you thinking that maybe YOU’RE the one with the wrong answer. he’ll do everything in his power to prove that he’s right and sometimes it gets a bit scary how hard he’s fighting for that point
✶ I would say that his score is pretty decent but he definitely could have done better. though after the interview, he’s still stuck on the questions he got wrong. cause wym your favorite ice cream isn’t cookies n cream ???? he literally saw you eat it last week
✶ now chenle giving you the questions….be prepared for a lot of sass, a lot of dramatic signs, and a lot of ‘I thought my partner knew me better mmcht’
⤹ ⊹ park jisung .ᐟ
✶ literally the best and most perfect companion for this quiz (yes I’m being biased, sue me). the man who would score the highest out of all seven boys but still keep a humble posture throughout the quiz. he blushes after you praise him for the amount he gets correct, which is all ofc :)
✶ sometimes he’ll be specific for certain questions, even after you told him he can keep it vague. he’ll go into detail of how your morning routine is set or little signs to show that you’re not in a talkative mood at the moment
✶ deeper questions are the ones that he is the most confident in, he mentally prepared himself for these type of questions. he’ll give reasons as to why you dislike this food or how you have a heavy distaste towards sports. starting to think it’s just jisung’s excuse to ramble about you
✶ as mentioned before, jisung isn’t as cocky as the members but internally, he knows he got this quiz in the bag. he stays humble and gushes on how much he got right
✶ for questions about himself, he’s one hundred percent sure that you’ll get majority correct. but he isn’t worked up if you were to get them wrong; instead, he lets a lighthearted ‘tsk’ and tells you the correct answer. he also reassures you that you still are a good partner to him, no matter how many you have gotten wrong :)
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౨ৎ honestly shocked on how little time this took but I’m really happy with how it came out :)
౨ৎ lemme know if you guys want a 127 and/or wayv version of these hcs 🤭
kisses to you all and God bless you 💗
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© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝟦𝗎. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader
title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??
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Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy.  You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.  
But, the point is, you were sorting tapes.  Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.
There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow.  You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.  
You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.  
"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close.  "I'm kind of a movie buff."
He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair.  He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store.  "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task.  This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…
"Oh, really?" he smirked.  "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"
"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."
"Right," he said, not seeming convinced.  "You like Kubrick?"
You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut.  But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him.  "Yeah, he's pretty good.  Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."
"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"
You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you.  "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.
"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.
"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod.  "Can you name five women you've made come?"
Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.
“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned.  “What are you saying to these guys?”
“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.
“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”
“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”
“Wha— no!” Neil denied.  
“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look.  “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”
“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised.  “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you!  Nobody even rents movies anymore.”  He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly.  “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”
“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”
“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.
“No,” you said again.  “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”
“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested.  “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”
He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.
“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example.  Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”
“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf.  “But that’s not the point.”
“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”
“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.
“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.
“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.
"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little?  Get our sales up?"
He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time.  At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up.  You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.
But you let Neil get away with a lot.  It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.
It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends.  Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade.  That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.  
As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying.  Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone.  That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.
“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered.  “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”
“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected.  “Just, you know—”
You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms.  It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage.  “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.
“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.
“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.
“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.
“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.
You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming.  They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.  
When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.
~
This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club.  In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.
"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.
The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it.  You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion.  She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody’s too surprised, right?”
There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate.  You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.
“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested.  “Get over Denise, you know.”
“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.
“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”
You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.
“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.  
You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though.  Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.
You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking.  That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up.  Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages.  The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself.  He’s still Neil…
“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you?  Anybody here catching your eye?”
“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied.  “Anybody.”
You snorted.  “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”
He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.
The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled.  “Wanna dance with me?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage.  Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.
Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude.  You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry.  You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?
Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now?  What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together?  What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?
“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.
“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.
“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left.  You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.
“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again.  “What’d you say?”
“We should ask the band if they—”
And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor.  You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage.  A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.
Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.
“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed.  “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”
“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember?  We’re getting brunch and—”
“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you.  “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”
You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile.  “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.
~
As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile.  “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed.  “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why.  “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”
It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there.  “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”
“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.
“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.
“Seriously?  Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”
He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open.  “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road.  Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often.  Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own. 
You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.
“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.  
“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”
“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk.  “You can handle it on your own.”
“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer.  And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”
Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left.  You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…
“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”
“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.
For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something.  But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.
Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week.  You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.
And now the fun part: picking a shirt.  You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.  
But the button-downs?  Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.
You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded.  The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.
The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms.  You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.  
Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.
Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically.  You waited for him to say something, but he didn't.  "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.
"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."
You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.
(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today?  Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)
“Hey!  You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.
“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.
“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth.  “Did… you two…?”
You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.
“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.
You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.
“Oh my god!” he yelped.  “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky!  Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”
“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.
“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in.  “She just borrowed my shirt!  ‘Cause she— because—”
“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along.  “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”
“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you.  “What does that mean?”
Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him.  “W-well, I just mean—” he started.
“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed.  “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”
“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”
“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment.  “You know, that’s so reductive.  For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not!  ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”
“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”
“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”
You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously.  “Well, I—”
“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused.  “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”
“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”
“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted.  “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”
“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.
“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.
“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening.  That made you furrow your brow a bit.  It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.
“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”
Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick.  You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together.  You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.
“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”
That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile.  Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you?  “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.
“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged.  “That’s just the vibe I got, okay?  That she’s sorta… off-limits.”
Neil hesitated.  “Well… she’s not,” he decided.  “You’re grown-ups.  Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”
“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.
“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.
“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.
“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.
“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”
You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan.  “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know.  He gets weird about that.”
“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically.  “Didn’t notice.”
“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.
“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”
You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.
“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.
~
"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball.  Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach.  “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”
“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”
“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”
“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.
“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you.  “Wanna bite?”
You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you.  You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.
Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given).  Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore.  It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently.  So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.  
You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad.  Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now.  You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change.  Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.
But here you were anyways.  “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765.  “Beat that!”
Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff.  “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.
As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide.  “Alright, if you say so.”
You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh.  “What are you doing?”
“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.  
He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance.  He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.
“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”
Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly.  “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly.  “I know I can beat you at that.”
The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then.  As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him.  “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.
~
You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off.  He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really.  You just weren’t sure what to say.  You weren’t sure if you should say anything.  And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird.  Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this.  Not that you couldn’t— but should you?
So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.
“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”
“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.
“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.
“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”
“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.
“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”
You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard.  “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.
“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically.  “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Connor, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”
“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed.  “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”
“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.
“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality?  Does she know?”
“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.
“Is she gonna tell me?  What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”
“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.
“And is this the Sarah Connor that’s already had John?  ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”
“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.
“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table.  “You fuck Connor, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”
“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.
“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided.  You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.
“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug.  “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”
Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows.  “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”
“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”
You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?
Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer.  “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing.  “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”
“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.
“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him.  “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”
“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied.  “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”
But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you.  “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.
“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that.  What did he expect you to say?  Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.
“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”
“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.
“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se.  He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.
“Well,” you mumbled, “no.  I don’t.”
Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit.  “Why not?”
“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”
He nodded, pursing his lips together.
“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued.  “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And honestly?  You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”
The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped.  But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.
“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”
“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”
“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed. 
“Is a six-pack enough?”
"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you.  “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”
You swallowed nervously.  “Um, I… well, I’m not coming.  I’ve got a date, actually.”
Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.
“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.
“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised.  “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”
“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight?  I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”
“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”
“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”
Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical.  "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"
"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained 
"You can't wear that to a date?" Lucien wondered.
"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt.  "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"
Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.  
"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"
"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured.  "What, I don't look good in a suit?  'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"
"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"
"I think it's cool," Neil agreed.  "Have fun, alright?  And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."
"I'm not really worried about—"
"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."
"Dude, chill," you groaned.  "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."
You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later.  Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).
They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date.  You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.
“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.
“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.  
“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.
“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.
“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.
“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie.  We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”
“Okay!  That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.
“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”
“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.
“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”
“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.
“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.
“What?” Jonathan scoffed again.  “Why not?”
“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know.  “I think I’m just, like, friend material.  I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know?  Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”
“But isn’t that what every guy wants?  To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head.  You get what I mean, right?”
“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang.  That’s the best.”
“Well, here I am!  Hanging!��� you snapped.  “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”
“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back.  “No, no, you look cool!  I mean, you look really great.  I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”
"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested.  "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."
"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.
"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured.  "If he wanted me, he would.  He doesn't.  It's not that deep."
Neil looked away when you said that.
"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.
"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.
"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.
"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him.  "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."
You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from.  "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.
~
Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.
You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.
“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window.  We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled.  “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”
“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed.  “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started..."
"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.
"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed.  "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”
“Really?” Neil scoffed.  “Then why’d you ask him out?”
Just in case.  “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”
“Huh?  You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.
You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully.  “You know what I mean,” you groaned.
“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it.  It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”
“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.
“No!  I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful.  “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”
Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.
“Seriously!” he insisted.  “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”
The guy I want is already there every day.  Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again.  “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though.  I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”
“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.
“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.
After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued.  “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”
“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that.  I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”
“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer.  It was funny.  And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”
You snorted.  “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”
“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird.  So, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you assured.  “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”
“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”
“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling.  “Why?”
“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him.  He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”
You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…
“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse?  Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship.  ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious.  But with you…”
“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can.  “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.  Least of all you and I being married.  Talk about a disaster.”
You choked on your throat.  “Yeah.  No kidding…”
“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”
“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite.  “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”
“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that.  Have a good night, then, kid.”
“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.  
You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second.  Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that?  Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?
It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad.  What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?
Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street.  You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club.  You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.
You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.
“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back.  He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit.  “You here alone?” he noticed.
“Yeah,” you shrugged.
“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”
You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.
And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too.  Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights.  “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.
“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.
“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you.  “I’ll do a shot with you.”
He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better than you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor.  "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.
"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."
"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"
"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement.  "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."
"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time.  "You're not doing it with me?"
"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.
He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn.  You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.
"Is it working yet?" he wondered.
"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.
“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off.  “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight.  And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”
“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured.  “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve been around.”
“Oh?” he pressed.  “Let me guess… boy troubles?”
“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.
“But this is just one boy,” he presumed.  “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”
“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.
“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.
“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered.  “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him?  Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”
“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much.  “You… you’re…”
“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.
“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider.  “Sheesh.  No, I had no clue.  Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”
“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad.  It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”
“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely.  “So, you’re not his type?”
“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed.  “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”
“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.
“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him?  One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while.  And then, uh—”
“Tanisha,” he remembered.
“Right!  I liked her,” you hummed.
“What happened to her again?” he wondered.
“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.
“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.  
“She told me before she told him,” you admitted.  “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him.  But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”
Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.  
“What?” you wondered.
“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided.  “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”
You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit.  “What do you mean?”
“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”
“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed.  “That was a fucking disaster.”
“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”
“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed.  “That would’ve been awful.”
“But really, though,” he insisted.  “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”
“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”
“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.
“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is.  He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar.  Too comfortable.”
“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”
“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”
“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”
“Why do you think that?” 
“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.
“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.
“Did you see his face?  He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently.  “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”
“Nervous about what?”
“That something could really happen with us!”
“You really think he would care?” you frowned.
“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”
“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.
“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.
“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.
“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.
“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”
“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”
“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”
“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”
You sighed again, even harder.  “Yeah,” you nodded.
“I know,” he agreed.  “And you know I love you, but—”
“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.
His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.
“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.
part 2
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cherrylovelycherry · 6 days ago
Note
Okay, maybe Ratio x gn!reader tarte aux fraises? i know u love ratio muehehe
.note. omg oke oke, i know what i have to do. ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ (I always end up writing so many words that I have to erase pieces of the original idea. T_T)
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𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises."
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Try hard
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pairing. dr ratio x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, academic pressure, ratio being rude, again. synopsis. Like he said, you just need to try hard. And if you can't handle the pressure, what better than to withdraw from medical school? full menu
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"No," His eyes on you, by those sharp words, coming together with the other glances of your classmates.
"Uhm, would it be a possible case of appendicitis?" You spoke, something nervous, but your words were almost like a question rather than an affirmation.
"Wrong,"
His voice again, almost as if he were glad of your mistake.
"Are you answering or are you asking me, Y/N?" Ratio spoke, almost with a despicable tone.
You just looked down.
It was almost always the same, for him, all your answers are wrong, he always had to find something wrong with what you said.
"If you're going to answer again as your classmate, refrain from talking and just say you didn't study anything." Ratio said, for all your classmates in the room.
"Honestly, I don't even know why I still continue teaching some of you."
Oh, and you knew perfectly well that he was referring to you.
He says, almost as if your existence were a total nonsense for him.
"All of you are dumb, you all have the same level of intelligence as an Earthworm, maybe a little less than one even." His words come out almost sharp again.
"How can it be possible you can't even answer the simplest question?" Ratio spoke out, almost frustrated by the lack of intelligence on most of his students.
Your cheeks became red, the way Ratio spoke was always so harsh, so harsh and direct, and even more so if it was you who answered a question, he never missed an opportunity to show that you were wrong in front of everyone else.
"Now, that's enough chit-chat, back to the topic." He looked at the board, his expression was somewhat serious, his arms behind his back, as he stood in the middle of the classroom.
"The appendix is a small, worm-like structure that branches off the back of the colon. It's located in the lower right lobe of the abdomen. The main problem with appendicitis is when it becomes infected and then blocks all waste product from leaving the colon." He spoke, standing at the front of the class.
"What does that mean?" he spoke again. This time with a much easier question than he asked you.
"Mhm, you," he pointed to a student.
"…That means all the waste from everything that comes through the digestive system doesn't have anywhere to go, and can back up into all of your abdominal cavity," She said, with some nerves, but keeping her words as firm as she could.
"Correct." He spoke, as he saw her answer, with a much calmer expression this time.
"The appendix becomes inflamed and very sensitive when an infection begins to form in it. You can experience fever chills that go down into your groin like cold water. The most common pain is in the abdomen, specifically in the lower right side. It can be mistaken for a stomach ache, or even menstrual cramps. But with further care, it can be determined as appendicitis." Ratio speaks again, almost a little happier.
"Anyone else?" He asked.
"If there is no intervention, it could explode," this time you dared to speak again, trying to sound firm.
"A precise answer, even from you, for a change," He spoke with a little more than a sarcastic tone, but as usual, he can't seem to say anything without adding an annoyed tone to everything he says.
"That's true. An appendix that is left untreated can burst, or perforate. But not always because of pain close to the appendix area will be necessary to remove or attempt an intervention." He says, as he returns to look at the board.
"If the appendix bursts, the pain might go away, but a much worse process, is going to start. The appendix will begin to break down, and the bacteria and pus from the organ can pass into the abdominal cavity, causing a widespread and severe infection. This is called peritonitis." Ratio spoke, his voice almost firm, and serious again.
You felt somewhat calmer, but still, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.
Was it necessary that I always talk to you like this?
Because after all, you were his partner.
Ratio kept his eyes on you for a few moments, as if analyzing your expression. He almost always knew when you had those thoughts.
As he finishes speaking, the class bell begins to ring, almost as a sign that the class just ended.
"You are all dismissed." Ratio said, putting his hands behind his back, his eyes looking at the students as they began to leave the room.
You focused on keeping your stuff, without a hurry, because you weren't very excited to eat in medical school. The food wasn't so good or appetizing there.
The room was getting emptier and emptier, except for just the two of you, since you were the last one to leave.
Ratio leaned against the front of the desk, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he had something in mind to discuss with you.
"Y/N." His voice came out quite firm, and almost demanding.
"Yes?" Your voice almost sounded like a whisper, a whisper of nervousness, still, you answered him.
You could already feel what kind of a talk he was going to have with you now
Ratio seemed quite serious, his eyes almost fixed on you, as if analyzing your every move.
He waited a few seconds before speaking. He still retained his serious expression.
"You're falling behind on a lot of the classes." He spoke, with an almost severe voice.
You just looked down.
He knew that you didn't always answer very intelligently, but it seemed like he just liked using every single opportunity he got to be harsh on you.
His arms were still crossed in front of his chest, keeping his position in front of the desk.
"I know…" your voice came out a little smaller this time.
Ratio sighed, he didn't change his position or expression, on the other hand, yours became somewhat more tense, you already knew that he was far from finished.
"Not only that," he continued to speak, his voice now more demanding.
"You don't usually answer my questions as intelligently as you should. You answer in ways that are almost as unintelligent as the others." he spoke again, his voice slightly higher than before.
"You know you should study more."
Again, a tone that seemed somewhat irritated.
"I am,"
"You're not." Ratio continued, his voice suddenly became very firm.
You can't help but feel even more self-conscious, more tensed than before.
He was right, even if he was, he didn't always have to say it that way.
"I don't even know why you're still in this class, if you've answered right a small percentage of times."
"But i'm trying, Ratio," You spoke, this time directing yourself towards him as your equal, as you did in private.
"Trying," He repeated. "You are just not trying hard enough."
Ratio's hands now moved from his chest, to his sides, still leaning against the table.
That didn't seem to change his expression at all, the same seriousness.
"You need to study more, you need to stop falling behind so much, to be more firm, and at least,"
He stopped, for a few seconds, as if thinking of his next words.
"To answer my questions correctly more times than you already do, stop with this mediocrity."
His tone became almost more severe.
"Honestly, I don't know why you don't take your time to pay more attention." He continued, with that severe, demanding tone.
"You're not in your old secondary education anymore, these are more complex medical concepts to treat complex diseases."
He said again, still keeping his tone and position.
"I'm going to try harder," you said.
"You better."
Ratio's answer was short, but the seriousness with which it was given almost made you even more tensed.
Again, a few seconds of silence, Ratio seemed to be thinking of his next words.
"I'm going to start being more demanding with you…" he spoke, leaning a little more against the desk, his eyes still fixed on you.
"I won't let you pass with the bare minimum in my classes" The feeling you have after you hear those words is the most nervous of all.
Ratio always got that demanding, and hard tone when talking to you about studies.
You know perfectly how serious he was when he said that.
"I won't go easy on you anymore," he says, in a much firmer tone.
"From now on if you don't answer correctly more times than you do now, you won't pass my classes."
Ratio was very strict with his classes, and even more so when it came to you.
"No more mediocre answers, I want you to start actually using that brain that you have." His tone now very demanding.
"You are going to start giving more intelligent answers, and not stupid ones that any other student could give."
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A few days have passed since that talk between you and Ratio.
He has become much more demanding, and much stricter with his classes.
His questions were much harder to answer, and he always waited for intelligent answers from you.
He had put you in the spotlight every time you were in class, he had increased the number of questions he asked you, and every time you answered, he seemed to be analyzing your every word.
But of course, you noticed, in your nervousness after saying 'medium-great' answers, how your classmates didn't answers difficult questions like you. Not to mention that there were always two or one student whom he always congratulated for her efforts.
Ratio continued with the same demanding attitude, continuing to set high standards for you.
He kept asking you difficult questions, and even if you answered one correctly, he would go on to another, more complex one.
He didn't miss a single opportunity to point out your failures, and you could always see the satisfaction on his face, whenever you got the answer wrong.
Even now, you can feel his gaze on you, as if he's waiting for you to say something wrong, to see him frown.
The way he seemed to be always focused on you in the class, no matter how hard you answered the questions.
Everyone could tell that even though you were his partner, he didn't spare you from his demands for answers.
You had to constantly use that huge book, and study more and more every day. It was becoming tiresome because you barely had time for anything else, and on the other hand, your classmates seemed to be studying less than you.
The bell for the end of class had just been rung, the majority of the class was already picking their stuff to leave.
But you knew very well that Ratio was still there waiting for you to approach.
And yes, you were going to do that.
With calm steps and somewhat anxious, you approached the large desk near the board.
"Uhm, Veritas?" You said, carefully.
"Can we eat together?" You asked, knowing that after this class he would no longer dictate another one in the day, and you too, had no other class for today.
Ratio was sorting through some papers, putting them in various folders on his desk, with that same serious expression he had the rest of the time.
When he heard your voice, he stopped sorting papers, and looked at you.
His eyes seemed sharper every time you looked into them.
Without taking his eyes off you, he placed the last folder in place, and rested his hands on the table.
He didn't answer immediately, as if he was thinking about your request.
"Is there a reason?"
Ratio's tone was somewhat firm, his eyes still fixed on you, as if questioning why you, out of nowhere, suddenly wanted to eat with him.
"No,"
You didn't really know why, either.
Maybe it was because you didn't want to be left alone. Or maybe because you needed a break, your brain had been filled with so much knowledge, so much information that you felt it was going to explode.
"I just want to be with you," Your voice coming out a little more nervous this time.
Ratio was still looking at you, his eyes, very much analyzing you, as if he was searching for a real reason.
It was always like this with him, he never answered anything immediately.
Still, he didn't take his eyes off you, as if he was analyzing your thoughts, your request, and your every action.
Finally, after a few seconds, he spoke.
"Did you study?" He spoke, with that demanding but firm tone. His gaze was still fixed on you.
Your body slightly tensed up. You knew that if you hadn't, he probably wouldn't eat with you.
Even if he was your boyfriend, he was always like this.
"I did," Your voice came out with a small firmness, you actually spent the night studying.
Ratio kept looking at you carefully, his expression didn't change, he seemed to still be analyzing you, as if searching for lies in your eyes.
"How many hours?" His tone was still demanding, but he always made sure to correct you, to be even firmer with his words.
On the other hand, you were getting nervous. It was true that you spent all night studying, you didn't even have time to sleep, but if you said that, he would probably make you feel guilty for it.
So to not prolong the question, you gave a firm answer.
"Six hours, I swear."
Your voice was still firm, but nervousness was clearly expressed in it.
Ratio didn't change his expression, his eyes were still fixed on you, as if he could tell if you were lying or not.
He kept looking at you, in those few seconds he didn't say anything. Still looking at you, until he broke the silence.
"You haven't slept any?" His tone was much more demanding this time, his brows slightly furrowed, as if telling you that it was a mistake.
You knew perfectly well that it was a mistake, you already regretted it the moment you said it.
A small feeling of guilt took hold of your body, knowing that you were about to be scowled for that.
"No…"
You said, trying to keep your voice somewhat firm, but nervousness was present in it.
Ratio crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes became more severe, almost with annoyance at your answer.
You knew perfectly well that that would happen.
"How are you going to study properly if you don't even sleep?" He questioned, in a demanding tone, as usual.
If you didn't sleep, he would scold you and if you slept, he would scold you too.
At the endings, it happened, as always, you even shed a few tears.
And it seems that that gave him remorse and he ended up agreeing to eat with you.
Your eyes were somewhat swollen, not much, but they were.
He made sure to hold your hand while eating quietly in a cafe near medical school.
You could notice how he was looking at your eyes almost every second, as if seeing the tiredness in them.
He almost looked like he felt guilty for making you cry, but he would deny it.
Ratio knew how demanding he could be, and how it could affect you.
But of course, he didn't apologize, because that would imply admitting that he was wrong.
You could see how he squeezed your hand, carefully while eating, as if making sure that your hand wouldn't slip from his.
It was quite obvious that he felt regret for making you cry. No matter how hard he denied it, his actions and his grip on your hand would always give it away.
The rest of the lunch was a little quiet, both of you only spoke a few words from time to time, not a lot.
He still continued to eat in silence, watching you from time to time.
His grip was firm on your hand, a little tight, but it didn't bother you, it was rather calming for you.
When he finished eating, he got up, and pulled you to get up from your chair.
He still had a firm grip on your hand.
"Let's go." Was the only thing he said, as he started to walk out of the cafeteria with you, your hand still attached to his.
Ratio started walking, with you following behind with your hand in his.
He wasn't walking too fast, or very slow, he was walking at a reasonable pace, but he made sure that you kept up.
He pulled you to stick to his side, and he made sure to look at you every few seconds.
You were walking in almost total silence, no one dared to say anything, and this was a little strange. Normally he was the first to say something.
His tight grip on your hand, his way of looking at you from time to time, made you feel a little nervous, but at the same time calm.
He didn't say anything as he walked, but you dared to say something.
"Where are we going?" You asked quietly, looking up slightly at him as you walked.
He looked at you, and his grip squeezed yours a little. Ratio spoke again.
"To my apartment." He replied, in the same firm tone.
"To your apartment?" You were a bit startled by that answer, because there was no way he was taking you to his apartment.
"Don't be tense." Ratio said, his tone was somewhat firm, but softer than before.
Before you could say anything else, he continued to speak, his words were firm and demanding, almost leaving no room for questioning.
"We're going to there, you're going to take a shower, and then you're going to take a long nap.
"I don't-"
Before you could reply, Ratio quickly cut you off. "I don't care what you're about to say, you need to rest."
He spoke with that firm but authoritative tone.
"You're going to take a damn shower, and you're going to take a damn nap for as long as it takes to get you back in shape."
In a way, that made you smile.
His actions showed you that he still cared about you.
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The last few days that had passed, were… very different. You spent them at Ratio's apartment.
Each day ended with him scolding you for studying so much, and falling asleep on his couch on several occasions.
You loved those moments with him, in spite of everything, you were really in love with him.
However, as quickly as those butterflies arrived in your stomach, they disappeared faster than they appeared.
"Incorrect again, Y/N,"
He said, holding his hand to the bridge of his nose.
"U-uh…" you said, feeling watched and judged by all your classmates at that moment.
You were currently in practical classes, you no longer just theorize.
"Less than a minute for the patient to bleed," he commented again, ratio, with total disapproval in his speech.
You stayed there, thinking about what to do, your mind running in circles to decide what to do.
And, without further ado, the girl that Ratio always congratulated, took her tweezers from your hands, starting to suture the patient.
You felt so stupid in that instant, the classmate that Ratio always complimented, always approved of her, even congratulated her, had just taken your tweezers from your hands.
You felt the gaze of your classmates on you. You could see that they were either feeling sorry for you, or judging you.
Ratio was silent, he looked irritated, but he wasn't scolding you.
The classmate who took the tweezers from her hands, finished suturing the patient completely, in what seemed to be a couple of seconds.
Talent always wins the effort.
"You've failed another suture." Ratio spoke, almost annoyed by your failure.
As always, whenever you made a mistake, he was always making sure to point it out, making sure to shame you in front of the rest of the class.
His disappointment was evident on his face, in his tone, his gestures.
"It's ridiculous, you can't even put a few damn stitches on a fake wound. How are you going to be a real doctor if you're always messing up everything?" His words were harsh, very much. His expression and his eyes, sharp, as always.
"You're not taking this seriously, you're making the same mistakes again and again." He continued, in the same irritated tone.
How could someone who studied so much, who spent many hours studying, fail so much? How could you fail so much, even though you spent so much time with the person who always seemed dissatisfied with you?
Your classmates' gaze, Ratio's gaze, your own self-judgment, and your frustration for being a complete failure, was too much. You felt your eyes begin to tear up, you could feel your hands shaking. You felt more and more nervous with every word coming out of his mouth. It wasn't just from the pressure, it was also from the frustration.
How was it possible, that he had so much patience, and complimented your classmate, even celebrated that she could suturate a patient, when you couldn't do the same?
His words, his looks of disappointment, they were starting to take their toll on you.
"You're right, doctor," you said, accepting his words, so that he would at least stop scolding you publicly. Ratio kept looking at you, that annoyed look still on his face.
You looked really small in his eyes. Small and weak, a complete failure. That's how he saw you at that moment.
"At this rate, I'm tempted to say that you're never going to be a good doctor."
You just nodded, not knowing what to answer, or if you should respond to that in the first place. The medical career was not easy, there were always scolding for everyone, but not scolding all classes with him.
You heard him say, 'Well, let's continue…', as he moved on to another kind of exercise.
You let your other classmates get closer to the practice stretcher, staying at the end of the group.
All you just did was play with your fingers and bite your lip, so you didn't cry. Because you couldn't even get out of the practice chirophan, because you'd have low grade. Although well, what a lower grade could he put on you if you already pulled the first exercise.
You looked up in the direction of Ratio, who was correcting a couple of your classmates on something. He was always correcting something, especially you.
Your eyes were beginning to become slightly red.
You really hated the suturations practices, you were never good at putting in a few damn stitches.
You were always clumsy, and your hands always trembled when you took the tweezers, like they were shaking now.
Why weren't you as talented as them? Why couldn't you even do something as simple as suturing?
"You're shaking, are you alright?" A voice came from behind you, you recognized who it was immediately.
It was the classmate who always did sutures perfectly, the one Ratio always complimented. She had a worried expression in her eyes, but you couldn't help but feel complete rejection and repulsion towards her.
Her question made you feel more humiliated.
"I'm fine." You replied, trying to sound firm, when in reality, your voice was on the verge of cracking.
She looked at you, not seeming to buy the answer you gave her.
She could see your hands shaking and you were biting your lip, it didn't seem like you were fine.
"Are you sure? You don't look very-" she tried to speak once more, but you didn't want her to continue.
"I said I'm fine, alright. Stop asking me that." You said, a little harshly, hoping that would make her shut up. Her eyes widened slightly at your response, she was surprised by your response. But, instead of being angry, she continued to look sorry for you.
"I'm just trying to-" she was about to say something again, but you were already fed up with her.
You were fucking jealous of her.
"Well, I don't want you to! Stop acting like you care about me!" You snapped at her, your voice louder than you expected it to be.
The rest of the class had turned their heads at you, including Ratio.
Why the hell did you do that?
The whole room was silent, the only noise present was your agitated breathing.
Ratio walked up to you, his eyes firmly on yours. He looked irritated, no, he looked angry at your reaction.
"To the hallway, now." He said firmly, gesturing for you to walk towards the hall.
You felt the eyes of your classmates on you, as you slowly walked out of the class, with Ratio behind you.
Once you got into the hallway, he closed the door behind him, leaving both of you alone in the hallway.
He looked at you, you could see irritation in his eyes.
He was completely irritated with the attitude you just had.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He said, his voice almost sounded like a whisper, but still firm.
"Why the hell did you lash out at her like that?" He continued, he was waiting for an answer, an explanation for your behavior, and he wouldn't accept any bullshit excuse.
You stood there, not knowing what to say, and avoiding looking directly at him.
You didn't know how to explain your attitude, you yourself didn't even understand why you had done that.
Maybe it was because you were irritated, annoyed by her, or just because Ratio paid more attention to her or others than to you, no matter how much you studied.
And you couldn't understand why that girl was always so perfect either. The perfect student, the one who always did the exercises and sutures perfectly.
You were increasingly sure that talent far outperforms effort.
As you stood there, avoiding looking at him, Ratio was growing more and more impatient as the minutes passed. He expected some explanation, an answer to his question. But all he got was silence and you avoiding his gaze.
"Are you going to answer or just stay there, biting your lip?" He spoke again, this time with a firmer tone.
Again, you stayed there, still and saying nothing.
"Okay, then," he said, entering the practice chirophan and closing the door behind him.
You stood there, outside the practice chirophan, alone, on your own, with only your thoughts swirling around your head. You could still hear your classmates continuing practicing suturing in the chirophan, while you were left outside.
Your mind was a mess, going from one thought to another, from one feeling to another; anger, frustration, confusion, disappointment.
And jealousy. A lot of jealousy.
You could hear Ratio's voice, scolding other students. And again, you heard him compliment the girl who always does sutures perfectly.
She was talented, she was perfect, the best student in his eyes. He seemed to adore her, much more than he praised you.
It was not possible to know with that man, he was a mystery.
You walked over and sat down on one of the seats in the hallway, your body completely tired. Both physically and mentally.
Poor girl, you were jealous of her, when not even she did it on purpose to be better than you.
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The lesson was finally over.
You were sitting in the hallway, waiting for the whole class to leave, so you could enter and say something to Ratio.
But, to your annoyance, the girl who always did the perfect sutures, was one of the last to leave.
She was going to talk to Ratio, it was obvious.
So, you stayed in the hallway, watching as Ratio and that girl talked for a long time.
She looked happy, with a smile on her face. Ratio seemed in a good mood, he was listening to her speaking calmly. In fact, he was smiling, he was never usually that warm.
That image, that situation, it only irritated your mind more.
But you wouldn't do anything, because there was nothing to do.
Besides that in medical school, he was your teacher, not your boyfriend. So professionalism on his part was always ahead.
As the last student left, Ratio opened the practice chirophan and found you sitting on one of the seats in the hallway.
He looked at you, and for the first time, he had a slight hint of disappointment on his face.
He just looked at you for a few seconds, almost as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.
He just let out a slight, silent, almost inaudible sigh.
"Come here." He said, gesturing to you to walk towards him.
You stood up, from the seat. You were about to walk towards him but, you suddenly felt nervous, your heart beating a little faster.
What if he wants to discuss that you're always getting low notes on the practical work?
Or maybe he wants to tell you that your effort is useless, because you'll never be as good as the other students.
Or even, he wants to kick you out of class for your recent behavior.
However, his words surprised you.
"I'm going to help you study," he said.
You really expected another scolding from him, but his words were soft.
Perhaps the excellent work of the best student in your class had change his mood.
"But I don't-"
Before you could respond, he cut you off, almost knowing what you were going to answer.
"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you." He said firmly.
He wasn't leaving room for questioning, if he was going to help you study, there was no use in trying to decline his offer.
In spite of everything, you couldn't help but get excited.
The thought of having his attention, and having an extra private class with him. You were really going to like it, you wanted to be alone with him.
In a way, it was a great opportunity to show him what you were capable of doing, and that you too had potential.
He gave you a small smile, as he saw the reaction on your face. And then he added, "We're starting today."
You liked being next to him, you feel like at school, almost like a teenage romance.
You were writing carefully what he explained to you, while he had an arm on your shoulders.
It moved you and made you nervous, even though your relationship was almost two years now.
He explained, corrected and commented, as usual. You nodded, listened and wrote what he said.
Everything was going well, until he suddenly paused, and he let out a sigh.
"There's something important I need to tell you." He said, suddenly, in a serious tone.
Your hands suddenly froze halfway between the page and writing. His words, his tone, his gaze. It made you feel nervous, your heartbeat increasing.
"What is it?"
Your voice came out in a somewhat nervous tone.
For a few seconds, he was serious, he didn't say anything, he just looked at you.
His eyes looking into yours, in a somewhat serious and intimidating way, before his expression suddenly change to one of slight annoyance.
"What the hell was that, what you did the other day?"
Ratio asked, suddenly changing the subject of the conversation.
You tensed up a bit, and bit your lip.
You knew immediately that he was referring to the little tantrum you threw, that day.
"I was…" you were at a loss for words, you didn't know what to say.
"I was just frustrated." You finally managed to say, your voice a bit low.
"Frustrated, right."
Ratio responded, in a slightly mocking tone.
"So you were frustrated, and you decided to take it out on a classmate, in front of the entire class?" Ratio looked at you, with that same serious and slightly annoyed expression.
Your heart was beating fast, you felt slightly guilty, knowing you acted inappropriately.
"I know it wasn't the best way to react, but…" you tried to explain yourself.
"No buts." He cut you off. "You embarrassed yourself, and you embarrassed me with your poor and childish behavior. As your teacher, I shouldn't have to deal with your tantrums.
His words stung a little, you felt ashamed.
But there was something else, behind his words. The mention of 'As your teacher'.
"I know, I'm sorry." You mumbled, looking down to the floor.
"I expect you to act like an adult. So I hope you'll apologize to your classmate." He said.
"I will."
You said, still avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see his eyes, to see his expression.
That day wasn't the only one he helped you study on.
But as always, for him, everything was wrong in answers or in your diagnoses.
As you wrote down one of the last points of the list he had given you, he spoke up, looking at what you had written.
"That is incorrect," he said as he looked at one of the points.
You looked up at him, your eyes wide at his words. How could it have been wrong? The doubt began to consume your mind, and you felt frustrated that you weren't able to do everything perfectly.
Your frustration was beginning to grow, you had just spent hours studying and here he was telling you that you had all the things wrong.
You tried to protest, you tried to explain your answers, but he shut you down every time. His voice became sharper and firmer every time, he was losing patience with you and your constant mistakes.
Finally, he slammed the book on the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty room.
"That's it, enough. You're not getting anything right," he said, his voice stern.
You felt a pang in your chest from hearing his words. How was it possible that not a single thing you wrote was correct? Why couldn't you understand the concepts? Why were you always making mistakes?
Your hands began to tremble as you clutched the pen in your hand, your heart beating fast
You wanted to scream out in frustration and ask him why you weren't getting the answers right, but you knew he wouldn't be patient with you anymore.
"You should try harder, I'm going to do an exam on these topics for you all," he said.
And yes, you had to study alone, as you normally did.
But you didn't really understand why you didn't get any answers right.
Literally that's what books said, your answers were even the same.
So, what was happening to you?
That test was going to be in a week, and you were extremely stressed about it.
You had to prepare for the exam given by Ratio, but it wasn't easy. Despite reading the material multiple times, something wasn't clicking in your head.
The formulas, the methods, the diagnoses, nothing stayed in your head. And when you attempted to answer the questions, you found yourself making mistake after mistake.
After studying a few nights on your own, it was time to take the exam.
The day of the exam had arrived.
The atmosphere in the classroom was tense, everyone seemed nervous. You were shaking, your hands trembling as you clutched the pen. Everyone around you seemed to understand the material, but you were struggling.
Ratio started handing out the test sheets to each one of you, until he reached your desk.
He placed the paper in front of you, and your breathing hitched.
You dared to hold your gaze on his, for at least a while, looking for some security that he could give you.
But there was no security in his gaze.
He didn't give you any special look, no secret glance or anything that could make you feel more confident.
His expression seemed serious, almost like a challenge. It was clear that he expected nothing from you, to his eyes you weren't going to do the test well.
He knew it, and you knew it.
And as he finished handing them out, he spoke.
"You have an hour to finish. Start now." He announced, before going back to his desk.
You looked down at the questions, and your heart sank.
They were difficult, they were complex, and they were things you had never seen before.
You felt your hands begin to sweat, and your mind went blank. You tried to recall the information you had studied, but it was like trying to remember a forgotten dream.
The other students around you seemed to have no trouble with the test, they were already beginning to answer the questions.
But you, on the other hand, were stuck on the first question. The words and numbers on the page became a blur, your mind in complete mess.
As minutes passed, you found yourself still struggling with the first question. Meanwhile, other classmates were already on the second or third.
The pressure was immense. You tried to focus, you tried to concentrate. But your mind was racing, your heart was pounding in your chest.
You could hear the sound of the other students' pens on the papers, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the silence of the classroom.
Every sound seemed to echo in your head and only added to your anxiety.
Time was ticking by quickly, and you could feel your anxiety growing with each passing minute.
You had already spent 45 minutes on one question, and you hadn't even reached the halfway point.
Until you saw some of your classmates raise their hand so that Ratio could approach them and answer their doubts about some questions.
They were getting help, while you just sat there, panicking.
You wanted to raise your hand, to ask for help, just like the other students.
But you didn't do it, you didn't dare to. You felt too ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you were having so much trouble with the test.
You just continued staring at the exam, trying to decipher the questions.
And, with only 4 questions out of 20, you dared to raise your hand as well, so that he can get closer as well.
You looked up a little bit on your exam, watching it approach students back and forth.
Your still hand raised, you even moved it a little bit, to see it.
And so he did, he saw you for a few seconds, before approaching another of your classmates.
Your heart sank again.
You couldn't believe what had just happened.
He knew you were struggling, he saw you with your hand raised. But despite that he avoided you and went to answer someone else's doubts.
You felt a pang of pain in your chest, like a stinging realization.
Ratio didn't want to help you, he was ignoring you.
You weren't like the good students, the ones he always said were talented. You were just the one who couldn't understand anything, no matter how hard you tried.
You lowered your hand again, feeling humiliated.
With your cheeks somewhat red from shame, you lowered your gaze towards your exam, almost empty.
You tried to do it, you really tried.
Without realizing it, your eyesight was blurred, as you continued to try to write down what you found most coherent.
You were crying in the middle of the exam. But what a shame.
Well, at least you didn't sob, you just let the tears slip out of your eyes, because because your head was somewhat tilted down, it was more accessible for the tears to come out.
The time passed, and the other students handed in the exam sheets, one by one. And you were still on your seat, trying to come up with at least a minimum of sense.
The tension in the room grew with each passing minute.
You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze, even if no one was looking at you directly. It was like everyone was silently waiting for you to finish, to see if you could do it or not.
But the answer to that was becoming more and more evident with every passing minute.
And yet, you still tried, you tried so hard to write something.
You felt a knot forming in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears, but it was difficult.
Ratio's words echoed in your head again, "You should try a little harder."
How much harder did he wanted you to try? You were already struggling to keep up, and now you were literally crying.
With all your effort, you managed to answer some more questions. But still, the test paper looked almost blank.
Many of your answers were incorrect, even if you had tried your best.
When the time finally ran out, Ratio spoke up.
"Time's up," he said in his usual strict tone, standing up from his desk. "Those of you who haven't handed in your sheets, do so now."
You felt a wave of dread wash over you. You were one of the few who still had the papers on their desk.
Slowly, you raised your head to see that almost everyone else had already handed their papers to him.
With shaking hands, you gathered the papers on your desk and got up.
Your legs felt weak, but you somehow managed to make your way to the desk.
Ratio was there, waiting for your paper. He looked slightly indifferent, as if he was expecting this outcome.
You handed him the sheets with trembling hands, feeling a sense of shame and embarrassment. The weight of your poor performance was heavy on you, and you avoided meeting his gaze.
He took the papers without a word, and as he did, your eyes darted down to the answers on the paper.
You could see his expression of disappointment.
And it was worse than what you imagined.
Red marks and crosses were all over the page, almost each answer was incorrect.
After a week, he returned the exams to everyone in the classroom.
You didn't know how to hide your grade from the students sitting near you.
There was a big 0 on the exam cover.
A 0, no points at all. You had failed the test completely, and the evidence was there, for everyone to see.
The shame and humiliation hit you like a wave. Everyone was looking at their grades, comparing them and discussing among themselves. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.
Ratio spoke up again, drawing everyone's attention. "As you can see, the results of the exam were… Disappointing."
He said, his eyes skimming over the class.
His eyes landed on some students, commenting on their good grades.
"But, there were some good grades. Congratulations to those who did well." He spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone.
You knew you'd never be like them.
When he finished the class, it was relatively short, as most of the time it was used to solve the exam together.
You rushed to grab your stuff by keeping your exam in your bag, before you left the big classroom, feeling nauseous.
The rest of the day passed by, but the shame and humiliation from the exam still lingered. You couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment, and the thought that you were the worst in the class.
You tried to avoid your classmates' gazes, fearing they would whisper or make fun of you.
The hours went by slowly, until the day had ended. You found yourself walking back home, feeling down, with your head hung low.
And then, you suddenly heard a voice calling out to you. "Y/N," the familiar voice said, and you froze.
You knew who it was.
Slowly, you turned around to see Ratio standing there, a few metres away from you. His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you. Your heart started racing again, and you nervously clutched your bag strap tighter. What did he want?
He walked closer to you, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
He stopped a few steps away from you, looking down at you.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, his voice firm. You swallowed hard, nodding silently.
You were too afraid to speak, your throat was dry, as if you had never swallowed saliva again.
He motioned for you to follow him, as he walked towards a quieter part of the hallway, where there were less classroms.
Finally, he stopped in a quieter spot, turning to look at you.
He looked directly into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his voice softer than usual.
"I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you," he began, tilting his head slightly.
You nodded again, knowing what he wanted to talk about. The failed exam.
"Yes…" you whispered, your voice barely heard.
He let out a small sigh.
"Your performance on the exam… It was quite unsatisfactory."
His words were straightforward, he didn't hide his disappointment.
Your heart sank even further.
He was saying what you already knew, what he already wrote on the paper of red marks and crosses.
"I didn't expect much, to be completely honest. But I didn't expect such…bad results." He added, raising an eyebrow.
His words hurt, but you didn't say anything, you just stood there, looking down.
"I just don't understand," he continued, "I made sure to explain the concepts thoroughly. Why did you fail so badly?"
His tone was serious, he really wanted an answer from you.
"I really don't know," you mumble. Ratio let out a small huff, clearly not satisfied with your answer.
He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying you.
"You know, I've been teaching for years. I've seen many students who struggle, but not to this extent. You weren't able to answer any question correctly."
"I wanted help, Ratio," you said, again, muttering.
And yes, you tried to raise your hand so that he could also approach you that time, but he just looked at you and didn't come close.
You looked up weakly toward his eyes, holding his gaze a few seconds.
"I tried to ask for help from you, I raised my hand, but you ignored me," you confessed, your voice almost breaking.
He was silent for a moment, his expression slightly changing.
He seemed a little surprised that you had mentioned that.
He was about to open his mouth to speak, but then your voice spoke up again.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" You said, with a hurt voice, and your eyes started to feel moist.
His expression softened slightly. He wasn't expecting that question.
He saw the tears forming in your eyes, and his stern expression wavered for a second.
"No, I don't think you're stupid." He finally said, his voice slightly lower.
He paused for a moment before speaking again.
"But I can't deny that I'm...disappointed. I had hoped for more progress."
Your lower lip trembled slightly as you heard his words.
Disappointed. Of course, he was. Because you were the worst in the class, the one who couldn't understand anything no matter how hard you tried.
The one who would never be able to answer a question correctly.
"…I know…" you whispered.
You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they started rolling down your cheeks.
"But i'm trying my best. I swear I am," you said, your voice shaking.
Ratio didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at you, almost as if he was contemplating your words, your expression and your tears.
He watched as you cried softly, the tears running silently down your face.
He seemed to think for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice softer than before.
"I know you're trying," he admitted, and his tone wasn't as harsh as usual.
He let out a small sigh.
"But 'trying' isn't enough. You're always lagging behind. You never catch up. You need to do something different."
Your heart felt heavy, and your shoulders slumped slightly.
He was right, your 'trying' wasn't enough. It never was.
You heard him sigh, before you didn't realize it, his hands were on your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs on these to clean the tears.
"I want you to succeed,"
His touch was gentle, his thumb wiping away your tears softly.
You looked up at him, his expression was serious but not cold as usual.
"But you have to work harder for that." He spoke, his hands still on your wet cheeks. "You're smart, but clearly something is missing."
As his hands continued on your cheeks, you froze, feeling the unexpected touch.
He was wiping your tears, a gesture of… comfort?
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At this point, you already believed his words.
'You're not giving everything about yourself'
'Study more'
'Try harder'
Everything that came out of your mind and mouth was wrong for him.
You sat on the small bench on the rooftop of medical school. That place had been your peacetime.
You found yourself again, frustrated, as you had the book open on your lap, with tears about to escape your eyelids.
That until someone else's footsteps resounded on the ground.
Which made you immediately turn your head.
"I knew I'd find you here," the familiar voice said. You turned to see Ratio, walking over to the bench and sitting next to you.
"The same place, for the third time this week," he added, his expression a mixture of concern and something else.
You wiped the tears from your eyes quickly, not wanting him to see you like this. But it was too late, he had already noticed.
He glanced at the open book on your lap, a small frown on his face.
"Still struggling?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.
You just nodded.
You saw him sigh, before he took out a kind of sweet bread packaged.
"Here, eat this," he said, as he gave you what he had in his hand.
He knew you liked those sweet breads.
With resignation, you took the bread, and you took off the wrapper, starting to eat it, while you felt like you were going to cry again.
Ratio watched you eat silently, his eyes fixed on you.
He saw the tears still gleaming in your eyes, but you were trying to hold them back.
He let out a sigh, his expression seemed to be contemplating something.
Without saying anything, he moved closer to you, getting nearer.
He was so close, you could count the number of eyelashes he had.
He leaned towards you, and his hand raised to touch your cheek and so he did, stroking your face for a moment, before he laid a kiss on your temple.
The unexpected kiss on your forehead made your body tense up for a moment, surprise filling you.
The action was uncharacteristic as he was acting in a way he never did in the past.
You slowly turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression held a hint of affection.
He was still so close to you. So close that he could easily touch you again.
The simple contact of his, made the accumulated tears of before, fall down your cheeks.
You stuck your body to him, even chewing sweet bread. You had a frown, like you used to have now.
As you put your phone next to you, after dialing your boyfriend's number.
You keep looking at the practice sheet, gently banging the pen against the table.
It took him a few seconds for him to answer your call.
"What's wrong?" Ratio asked once he answered the phone.
You took a deep breath before speaking, trying to sound a little calm, but failing miserably.
"I'm stuck again," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.
"You'll need to do this by yourself, this time." He said, and his voice was firm.
You felt another stab in the chest.
"But I-"
"No buts. You need to learn how to figure things out on your own. You can't always depend on me."
Another stab. Like a dagger.
Yes, the same thing happened again.
You were somewhat desperate, as your last exams went wrong and you only approved a few with the minimum note. And basically you needed 140 percent of 100 percent to pass.
The only thing that could save you would be the practical part, but you didn't even manage to master that.
You knew he was right, but that didn't make you feel any better.
You looked up at him with a sad expression, but all he did was look at you with his usual frown.
"You're not a kid anymore. You need to start taking responsibility for your own learning," he said.
You knew he was right, you knew you couldn't always rely on him. But it was hard to accept.
Especially when he was always so dedicated and patient with others.
"Being your boyfriend doesn't mean you have more priority or advantages,"
You felt your throat tighten, you had a lump in your throat.
But he continued speaking.
"I'm your teacher, first of all. And I should be as impartial as possible."
You knew that, you truly knew that.
How you wished that he would treat you differently from others just because, you didn't want any privileges, or anything like that.
You just wanted his attention, his help, his care. But all you got were cold remarks, like a teacher talking to a stupid student.
Oh, but you would remember her words whenever you were tempted to ask her for help.
And again, you believed his words.
He was right, it wouldn't be fair for others to teach you the most.
So, you had to put everything in about yourself, no, more than you could give, so you could study for your exams.
Especially because they weren't just any exam, they were almost a preview of the endings, and if you didn't pass all of them, you wouldn't have any hope of being able to pass the courses.
Because you need more note than you can normally get, that is, something impossible.
In total there were 6 courses, that of Ratio and that of other teachers. That in their classes you didn't do so badly, but you weren't the best either. you approved with scores between minimums to media.
You looked down, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.
"I know," you mumbled, feeling a lump in your throat.
He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice a little softer this time.
"I'm tough on you because I know you can do it," he said.
Your eyesight focused on the chemistry test, it was the first exam of the week, so you were, or at least you felt, that you were ready.
When you left the exam, begging you to do well, you had to eat a granola bar, while you were walking down the hallways, looking for your other classroom.
You couldn't see Ratio before you took the first exam, because you were going to be a little late.
Once you sat at the desk, with the pharmacology test in your hands, you started putting on paper the things you remembered, so you didn't forget.
It was two long hours, which you managed to finish and leave the classroom, completely tired.
But when you get home, you couldn't sleep, because you had to prepare for your other exams.
As you sat in front of your desk, it was already almost 10 pm.
And you were still studying.
Your eyes tired because of the many books you had looked through, and your arms aching slightly because of writing so much.
You were tired, but you couldn't afford to take a rest. You had to study for the other exams. You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes.
How long had you been studying now? An hour or two? You weren't even sure.
In the last few hours, you were studying for your other exams, including Public Health, Medicine 3, Clinical psychiatry, Laboratory diagnosis and the course in which Ratio will be present, Surgery 1.
Of some of those exams, most of them were written, the two of practice would be the same day.
You didn't dare send a single message to Ratio.
Or well, it's not that you didn't want to, you were too tired at this point.
You barely got out of the exam where you had to be in the lab, your eyelids every time threatened to close.
Now you had the exam.
You were scared, you even sweated from your nerves.
When you arrived at the respective practice chirophan, where all your colleagues would be taking the exam, your eyesight discouraged you.
They all looked somewhat tense, as they walked back and forth, muttering to themselves, what you assumed was what they learned in class.
You waited outside, along with them, before Ratio made them pass them all, to start the exam.
This consisted even the right only disinfected was also qualified, which made you tense. Although the cold water when washing your hands and arms helped you wake up a little.
Your breathing intensified.
Ratio stood in the middle of the room, and you tried to focus your vision properly.
He looked in your direction, for a second, his eyes on you.
Maybe he'd noticed how tired you were, but he remained silent. He just looked at you for a second, before looking back at everyone else.
And he began to speak.
"You all know how this works," he began, his voice firm and authoritative. "Each of you will take turns performing on a dummy patient."
You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to calm your nerves.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, as you watched your classmates take turns performing the practical exams.
Every time someone finished, Ratio inspected their work and gave them feedback.
You could see the serious expression on his face, his eyes never leaving the students as they performed.
Finally, it was your turn. You approached the dummy patient, your hands slightly trembling.
Ratio stood a few feet away, watching you.
When you started the exam, you tried to be as perfect as possible.
You tried to calm down, which was a bit difficult. Your hands was shaking.
'Try to breathe slowly, it will help you.'
That was what Ratio told you, and he was always right.
You tried to repeat in your head the steps you had to take to complete the exam.
You took a few deep breaths, in and out.
And finally, you began.
You feel much more pressure when you felt your classmates behind, that you were taking turns with when you performed a simple little surgery.
You started with shaky hands, to make cuts in the internal tissues of the skin, little by little. Being totally attentive to the sound of the cardiac monitor, listening to the pulsations and occasionally seeing the pressure level in the 'patient'.
You could even feel the sweat on the palms of your hands inside the latex gloves. It's good that you always had to put on 2 or 3 for these practices, because otherwise, you would have contaminated everything with your sweat.
You continued the process, trying to block out the thoughts that were flying through your mind.
'You need a good score.'
'You can't fail.'
'This is your last exam.'
'If you do this well, you can finally talk to him without worrying.'
Trying to ignore the pressure, you continued to take each step carefully.
The instructions for your colleagues you should take turns with were clear, anyone who distracts or talks to the person who is performing the practice with the 'patient' will immediately cancel the exam.
And that's why, because of the more impotence or frustration of your peers when they see your patient's heart level when they enter a state of shock because they had touched a vital organ, it was something that went unnoticed by you. Because you had fallen asleep.
What suddenly woke you up was the same alert from the monitors, who let out a loud noise.
Shit.
By the time you saw the monitor, the pressure was in the skies, not to mention that now the pulsations were going down drastically.
Without realizing it, as you had been sleeping in your place, you pricked the 'patient' stomach with the scalpel.
Fuck.
Your eyes widened in shock.
You were still a bit dizzy from sleep, and your reflexes were very slow.
And from behind, you could hear more murmurs, some of your classmates, while others let out a hiss or a swear word. And you could feel the pressure in your chest at what had just happened.
You tried to make a suture, but by that time it was too late.
You had damaged a vital organ, which you shouldn't even do.
In fear, you turned to the monitor, that now the rhythm was a single beep, indicating that the 'patient' had died.
You stayed there, feeling pressured by the looks of your classmates behind you, now they had not been able to take their exam.
And the gaze of Ratio, who was standing in front of you, which only made things worse.
He stood in the same position, his eyes staring at you. And you could only think of what he must have been thinking at that moment.
You tried to remain calm, but you knew that was impossible, your breathing was shaky, and you even felt your legs trembling.
You couldn't stand the stares, you could feel the gazes of your colleagues on your back. Judging and analyzing everything you had done.
"You failed this exam roundly." was the only thing he said, before guiding your peers to another side in the chirophan so they can take their exam, with a heart rate 'patient'.
You felt a pang of panic, your hands still trembling from the previous episode.
'You failed this exam roundly.' those words still echoed in your mind.
You knew it was the truth, there was no way you could deny it. You messed up big time.
'Everyone is going to hate me now. They're all going to think I'm stupid. I'm not fit to be a doctor. I'm not fit to be anything.'
These were the thoughts that raced through your mind.
You had been unveiling yourself so that you could study well for your other exams, that this was the only thing you didn't have in mind that could happen.
Your eyes looked to the floor, you were ashamed, you were embarrassed by your own performance. You had failed at something so simple.
Something you'd studied for hours. You even feel somewhat prepared to be able to do it.
Ratio stayed where he was, watching as your classmates took their turn with 'the patient'.
But he couldn't quite take his eyes off you, he could see you were shaking, and he was sure you would start crying at any moment. But you wouldn't do that in this place, not with the presence of everyone else.
He was heading for a moment where you were.
Without paying much attention to the others, he approached you, his footsteps almost silent, and stopped right in front of you.
He looked down at you, his gaze serious.
He knew exactly what your thoughts were at the moment, he knew that all the blame you would assume would be on yourself.
After all, it was all due to your negligence, you had fallen asleep, and that had been the reason why your practice turned out to be, to say the least, a disaster.
'You tried'
'You can do better another time'
'Don't worry'
You expected that, you really expected it.
"You need to retire from the chirophan, you've finished your exam." That's what you heard from him.
Your heart squeezed.
You really thought he was going to at least say a few words of encouragement, not just that.
And the tone in which he said it just made it worse. It was clear that he was disappointed.
You could feel the lump in your throat growing, you felt that you were going to burst into tears at any moment.
Ratio was about to speak, but instead, he held his tongue.
He knew the effect his words had had on you. He knew you weren't well. But he didn't say anything, he just stood there, seeing you.
His gaze was on you, you could feel that he was analyzing you, from your eyes to your hands.
You looked like a kicked puppy.
Your shoulders were hunched, your head was down, and your hands were shaking at your sides.
With what little dignity you had left, you looked up at Ratio.
Your heart was beating so hard you thought it would burst out of your chest.
Your eyes were glassy, your eyelashes wet with tears.
You moved from your place, going to the disinfection area, while you were removing your gloves, mask and other protection stuff.
Your hands never stopped shaking while you did that.
You came out of the chirophan of practices, with fear running through your body.
Your hands on your face as you tried to hide the fact that you were about to start crying.
You were walking so fast that you bumped into a few people, some who told you to slow down, but you ignored them.
Finally, you reached the bathroom, where you locked yourself in one of the cubicles, and let the tears fall down your face.
You felt pathetic. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could do it, and even more so, for falling asleep.
How could you possibly have screwed up so big? You had studied for hours, for days, for weeks.
You worked as hard as you could to try to get a passing grade.
You had given your all, only for it to end in a complete failure.
"You're not good for this." you told yourself, your voice choked with tears.
You waited for your boyfriend to leave his office, grabbing the strip of your bag with both your hands.
Your gaze was on the floor, seeing your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Your red eyes, you didn't want people to see much.
The students walked around you, chatting and laughing, unaware of the turmoil you were going through. You just wanted to go back to your apartment and cry in peace.
But at least you wanted some comfort on Ratio's side, even though you knew you didn't deserve it.
You heard the sound of a door behind you opening, and you glanced up to see Ratio walking out of his office.
He didn't notice you at first, but then he turned and his gaze fell on you.
You heard him sigh heavily, before he spoke "Let's go." It wasn't a question, it was a direct order.
You didn't dare say anything, just nodded silently and walked with him.
The whole way to the exit was silent, you walked behind him, seeing his back.
The silence was heavy, you didn't dare to say anything, and he didn't say anything either.
When you arrived at his apartment he let you pass first.
As you saw him leave his things in place and turn on some lights, your mind was distracted.
Until as he started heating water in the boiler, he spoke.
"It was the worst exam I could see in my life," his voice was full of disappointment.
Your heart pounded in your chest, those words only made you feel worse.
You wanted to say something, some kind of excuse, some reason to justify what you had done.
But all that came out of your mouth was a half-broken murmur "I'm sorry"
Ratio stared at you for a moment, his gaze was cold, you felt like crying again.
"You're sorry?" He asked, almost bitterly.
"You'll tell that to your patients' relatives when you kill them by mistake?"
Your eyes widened, and you could feel your lip starting to tremble.
That was a low blow.
"I-" you tried to speak, but your voice was so shaky and broken that you could barely form words.
But he interrupted you.
"You weren't focused. You were not prepared. You were sloppy and careless" He said, without even looking at you.
His words were like a stab in the heart.
And he wasn't done yet.
"You didn't put any effort into it,"
"Yes I did," you muttered, grabbing your fingers, anxiously in your body.
Ratio turned to you, his gaze was stern and almost irritated. He had never looked at you like that before.
"You fell asleep in the middle of the practice," he said, and the disappointment in his voice was palpable.
"How the hell would you call that putting in effort?"
Your mind was racing, trying to find an answer, something to say. But the words didn't come out, the lump in your throat was too big.
"I did" you tried to say again, weakly.
"No, you didn't" he said bluntly.
"If you had, you wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake"
You couldn't help it again, the salty tears wet your cheeks.
"Yes I did, Veritas," you said, raising your voice a little while you were looking at him.
"You didn't make the slightest effort in that practice, otherwise, you wouldn't have failed so miserably"
Those words stung again, you felt that he was attacking you.
"Yes I did!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face.
"I worked my ass out for that exam. I didn't take anything for granted! I really wanted to pass!"
"I want your comfort," you sobbed.
You wanted him to tell you that you had tried, that you did put everything out of you, that it was just unfortunate situations, that you could try again later.
You wanted that, not this.
Ratio's expression softened a little at your words, and for a moment he almost looked guilty.
He was quiet a few seconds, looking at your tear-soaked face.
"Do you think hard work is enough?" He asked. "Do you think that by just studying you will pass everything?"
"That if you want something, you'll get it just by wanting it?"
You just looked at him.
"That's not how it works," he said firmly.
"You have to be more than that".
You wanted his comfort, you longed for it a lot at times like this, not to be ranted out at how bad you did it.
"You don't deserve to be consoled if you did something out of pure negligence,"
Your heart sank at his words, like he was speaking to a child.
You felt like a scolded dog.
More tears fell on your face.
"I didn't mean to make that mistake," you said, wiping your face with your sleeve. "I really tried"
Ratio approached you, his steps slow and deliberate.
"Trying is not enough" he said bluntly.
He was in front of you now, towering over you, you didn't dare to look at him in the eyes.
"In this profession, just trying is not enough"
"You're not made to be a doctor if you think that," Your breathing hitched.
Those words hurt, you wanted to shout at him, tell him he's not right, that he's wrong.
But you knew he wasn't.
Every word he was saying was true.
All this effort, all these hours you've worked, and all these sleepless nights, to fail like that, because of a stupid simple mistake.
You really were not fit to be a doctor.
Your head was lowered, and the tears still ran down.
You tried to hold them back, but failed.
"I'm tired, Veritas,"
You just wanted him to stop.
You were tired, tired of studying, tired of not getting it right.
Ratio seemed to not soften at your words, his face still showed disappointment.
"You have to try harder, you have to put aside your tiredness," he said firmly. "If you don't, you will fail again"
"If you really want this, you have to do better"
You just wanted it all to stop.
"It's not fair," you began, your voice choked by the crying that didn't stop.
"The only thing you know how to do is tell me bad things about what I do," you sobbed.
"You're supposed to be my boyfriend, not someone who criticizes me,"
You felt frustrated, the words escaping your mouth without a care.
You wanted him to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be okay and that you would be a perfect doctor.
But he didn't say anything. He just looked at you, his expression unchanged.
"My job isn't to soothe your ego," he said firmly.
"My job, as a boyfriend, is to help you see the faults in yourself and strive to improve"
"And it seems that you don't like that very much," he added. His voice was almost cold.
You raised your head, looking at him with wet eyes.
"You're supposed to support me" you said weakly, almost a plea.
Ratio's face didn't change, his eyes fixed on you.
"I do support you," he said.
"But I won't lie to you or sugarcoat things for you," he added.
"I don't even have ego or something that you have to soften."
Those words were like a stab to the heart.
"I'm sick of you telling me that everything I do is complete shit,"
You were shaking with frustration, tears and snot streamed down your face. You felt so angry and so desperate that you didn't know what to say.
"I'm just trying to be honest with you and make you face reality," Ratio said.
"You need to be able to handle criticism if you want to be a doctor"
You just wanted him to stop, to shut up and say something like 'you're good' or 'don't cry it's okay'.
But he didn't, he just stood there, telling you the things you didn't want to hear.
You felt like you couldn't hold back anymore, all these days, weeks, months of not saying anything was starting to weigh on you.
"You never say anything good about me," you said in a shaky voice.
"You never have a nice word for what I do"
Ratio raised an eyebrow at your words, unamused by your outburst.
"You don't deserve my compliments"
That stung.
"Especially when you fail so miserably," he added.
Your body shuddered, those words made you feel so bad.
"All other boyfriends say nice things to their partners" you murmured.
"They give their support, even when they make a mistake"
Ratio almost laughed at your words.
"Oh, so you want me to be one of those 'other boyfriends' now?" he said with a hint of irony.
"You want me to pat you on the back and say you did a good job, even when you did a bad one?"
"Do you really think that's going to help?"
His tone was almost mocking, and it made you even more upset.
You wanted to shout at him, tell him that you just wanted him to say something nice and comfort you. But the words wouldn't come out.
"I…"
You tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a choked noise.
Ratio sighed heavily, the annoyance clear in his expression.
"I can't believe you're acting like a child because you can't handle a bit of criticism"
"Do you really think that's how a doctor should behave?"
"The answers I say are the same as those of my classmates and you still tell me they're wrong," you said.
"It's not fair. I'm fed up,"
Ratio crossed his arms, looking down at you.
"Life isn't fair," he said, as if explaining something obvious to a child.
"And a doctor's job is not to care about being fair"
He looked you up and down, almost with contempt in his eyes.
"I had expected more from you," he said.
"But I suppose I expected too much"
Those words hit you like a blow to the stomach.
You knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less painful.
Your hands were clenched into tight fists, your fingers digging into your palms.
"I hate you," you spat out between sobs, your voice full of anger and hurt.
Ratio seemed unperturbed by your words to begin with.
He looked at you with an expressionless face for a moment, before speaking.
"You don't mean that"
You were angry, hurt, and sad, all at the same time.
"I do," you said, your eyes wet with tears.
"I hate you, and I wish you didn't exist"
The words came out of your mouth, more like a desperate plea.
Ratio didn't react at first, he just stood there, looking at you as you sobbed.
"You don't mean it," he repeated, his voice low and firm.
"And you know it"
"Yes I do," you insisted, your voice almost a hiss.
"I hate that you always criticize me," you said, letting out a sob. "I hate that you never say anything nice,"
You saw a slight change in his face through your tearful sight.
Before it becomes the same again.
"If you hate me and you can't stand the criticism I give you," his voice sounded annoying, almost words spit on his face.
"Why don't you retire from medical school?"
"You don't even have the talent to be a doctor anyway,"
You felt your heart drop at those words.
Talent… That was the thing that you always lacked.
Ratio was always the perfect doctor, from the beginning of his studies, he was the top of the top.
You, on the other hand, struggled.
You weren't naturally smart like your classmates or he was. You needed to study more, work harder, make more effort.
And even with all that, you didn't come close to being like he wanted.
You had sacrificed so many things just to get here, your dreams, your hobbies, and even your old friends.
What nice words from your boyfriend.
Both you and he remained silent, with only the sound of the boiling woman whistling.
Your tears fell like waterfalls, but this time you weren't sobbing, you just stared at him.
There was a tense silence between the two of you.
You didn't know what I was thinking, you didn't want to know either.
But you might notice that his facial expression was no longer the firm one before.
He seemed even surprised by his words.
He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak.
But the words not came out.
Ratio was looking at your devastated face, the trail of tears already staining your clothes and cheeks.
Your red eyes stared at him, without blinking. Your expression seemed so different from a few seconds ago.
He had probably crossed the line.
Ratio stood there, looking at your tear-soaked face. He had never seen you so upset, so… desperate.
'Why don't you retire from medical school?'
His words will be repeated as a disc striped on your head.
The seconds passed slowly, the silence was only broken by the sound of boiling water.
Ratio moved slightly, taking a step forward, but stopped when his eyes met your gaze.
That look was almost one of… betrayal.
Something inside him stirred with frustration but guilt at the same time.
You forced yourself to take a breath, because you felt like you were going to drown.
You grabbed your bag with your trembling hands.
As you moved to grab your stuff, your eyesight never focused even on his shoes.
"Y/N…" Ratio tried to speak, his voice was hesitant.
He watched as you packed your things, your movements were jerky and with haste, with the only goal of leaving quickly.
You didn't look at him, avoiding his eyes completely.
"Where are you going?" His voice sounded more pleading, and with a hint of concern.
You felt your body tense, the sound of his voice made you shiver. You had forgotten how long it had been since you heard your boyfriend speak to you without being sharp or harsh.
"I'm leaving," you replied, your voice flat and emotionless.
"Do you care?"
"Of course I care" his voice was firmer than before, and maybe a little annoyed?
Ratio walked closer to you, his steps slow.
"I-, we need to talk"
That phrase came out of his mouth, almost in a pleading tone.
You continued to pack your things, not daring to look at him.
"We can talk tomorrow," you said. "I remembered I have something to do at home,"
Ratio's lips formed a straight line.
He just kept quiet.
You too, until you approached the door.
You felt the weight of his eyes on your back, almost burning.
You had your hand on the doorknob.
It was hard. More than you should.
"Tomorrow, then," he said, quietly.
The way Ratio spoke sounded almost vulnerable.
Your hand trembled on the doorknob.
You wanted to look back, to say something, to see his face.
But you didn't, because you know that seeing him would be even more painful.
"Sure," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.
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The day after your… discussion with Ratio.
You were walking through the corridors of the medical school.
You felt a slight anxiety, but also a sense of resignation for what was going to happen.
You hadn't heard from Ratio since yesterday, and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or not.
As you turned a corner, you saw a familiar figure standing in your path.
You froze for a moment when you saw him.
He was dressed as usual and that perfect hairstyle.
But at least he didn't look so perfect, like he hadn't slept the night before.
His eyes were fixed on you, almost as if he were inspecting you.
Ratio his face neutral as always, but with a hint of… remorse?
"We need to talk," he repeated the phrase from yesterday, his voice low and firm.
Right.
"Oh, right," you let go, feeling your body tighten.
But before he could add anything else, you talked.
"Maybe later?, right now I have a class,"
Ratio had expected you to have a defiant or annoyed air about you.
But your voice, and expression, were calm, almost soft.
"Fine," he said after a few seconds. "Then after class,"
"After class," you confirmed.
Ratio continued to watch you.
The sound of the bell ringing through the hall interrupted the brief moment between the two of you.
not looking directly into his eyes. Then, before he could say anything again, you continued on your way to your classroom.
Ratio watched your figure walk away, his brows slightly furrowed.
Every ticking sound seemed almost as if it was mocking you.
The anticipation making your stomach spin.
In fact, you hadn't gone to a 'class'.
You went to talk to the rector of the medical school.
You felt a lump in your throat, and your hands were slightly sweaty.
You had an idea of what you wanted to talk about.
But you weren't so sure.
Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, your heart beating fast in your chest.
Until you arrived at the office door. You knocked gently and the voice of the rector called you in.
The moment of the meeting was brief, you explained the situation and what you decided. The man listened intently to your words, a slight sense of sympathy in his eyes.
When you finished, he nodded slowly, his fingers tapping on his desk. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Yes," you responded, your voice firm but inside you were the nerves.
You didn't know if you had taken the right decision, but it was done.
"I don't want to question your decision, but-"
"I'm sure" you interrupted him abruptly.
It sounded a little… harsh, but you didn't want to hear any more arguments.
The rector gave a small resigned nod.
"Okay," he said slowly.
"I will start the procedures,"
You walked to where you knew Ratio would be teaching.
You didn't know why you approached, if you were supposed to leave without telling him anything.
Ratio was in the middle of his class when you appeared at the door.
He didn't see you at first, since his back was facing the door.
But when class ended a few minutes later, and everyone left, he turned his face towards the door after leaving his notes on his desk.
And there you were.
Your figure standing in the doorway.
Ratio's facial expression didn't change.
"Is your class over?," his voice was low, the room was empty, the last students had already left.
Which made the only sound a low ticking of the clock hanging on the wall.
Your feet didn't move toward him.
You were still standing by the door, your gaze fixed on the ground.
"Yes," your voice came out somewhat strangled.
For a few seconds Ratio was silent, as if contemplating you.
He started to walk towards you, his footsteps echoing in the room.
The air between the two of you felt almost… thick.
Ratio eventually stood in front of you, his height forcing you to lift your head to look at him.
"Can we talk outside of here?" You asked, something undesirable about your actions.
Ratio was quiet for a moment, staring down at you.
He looked almost… unreadable.
Finally he agreed with a low "sure".
You left the room and both you started walking together.
Neither of you spoke.
Silence.
Just the sound of the two of you walking through the corridors of the school.
Ratio continued to keep pace with you, but he was looking straight ahead, not looking directly at you.
The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty halls.
As the two of you walked, you felt a feeling of nervousness rise in your stomach.
You inhaled before you asked again. "Can I take your hand?"
As you broke the silence, Ratio slightly turned his head towards you.
He gave a light nod of affirmation.
You reached for his hand, and he allowed you to hold it.
His palm was warm, and the touch of his fingers was gentle, almost firm.
You felt less nervous, just for a while.
You walked with him until you got to a quiet cafeteria, where you saw people studying at tables.
You sat in front of him, making your hand release his.
As you sat down in the cafeteria, Ratio took a seat in front of you.
Both of you stayed silent for a few more seconds.
Neither of you had said anything since you came to this place.
You could feel a tension in the air, the silence slowly becoming unbearable.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.
"I assume you didn't go to class," his statement sounded like a mere fact.
"Uhm, we can talk about that at another time," you said, playing with your hands a little bit.
You missed the touch of his hand against yours, and you were going to miss that, that's for sure.
"I don't hate you, Veritas," you said, remembering your words yesterday, that you ranted when he was being unpleasant and rude on you.
Ratio's brow furrowed slightly.
He didn't say anything for a moment, he seemed to be thinking about something.
His gaze was focused on you, his eyes studying your expression almost intently, as if he was examining you.
"I know," he said eventually, his voice low and quiet.
Then he spoke again.
"I have to apologize," his words sounded almost reluctant, as if he didn't like saying them.
You could see the muscles of his jaw clenched, he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts and words.
It was clear that he wasn't used to apologizing.
He continued, the words coming out a little hesitant.
"I shouldn't have said those things,"
He paused again, his gaze averting yours for a moment.
Then he spoke again, and his eyes fixed on yours again.
"I was too harsh,"
Ratio's voice was quiet, almost like a whisper.
He was still struggling with those words, you were so used to him insulting you so easily but apparently it was different when he apologized.
Significantly that produced peace of mind in you.
You couldn't help but smile a little, feeling the knot in your throat.
"That's okay," you said.
Ratio's eyebrow shot up, clearly not expecting such a response.
You knew him enough that he probably would have been prepared to receive a scolding or an argument in response.
He was still looking at you, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes.
"That's… it?"
Ratio seemed almost dumbfounded.
"Yes, that's what I needed to hear," you said.
Anyway, you had already started with the procedures with the rector.
Maybe you just wanted to hear his words of apology, but as a good memory.
Ratio's expression changed, it was almost a mixture of relief and confusion. It was almost as if he had expected more resistance from you.
He remained quiet for a few more seconds, continuing to watch you intently.
That you were so forgiving after how he had acted made him feel… strange.
But maybe he shouldn't think too much.
Ratio exhaled slowly, his facial expression returning to its usual stoic and composed state.
"You're too soft, dear," he murmured, his voice low and quiet.
The next day it was the same.
He felt calm, because at least you weren't upset and at least you clarified that you didn't hate him.
It had spent almost 40 minutes of class and you were not there yet, it was strange to him.
Until when you looked for you on campus, where you were supposed to have other classes, you hadn't attended them. Rather, you weren't even on campus.
And, no matter how much he send you a message, it came out that he couldn't contact your number.
Almost recently, he had to come and talk to the rector, about you not coming and you could fail all your other courses. Until he took it upon himself to tell him that you had withdrew from campus three months ago.
Ratio's eyes widened, his facial expression transforming into a look of disbelief. "What?," his voice was low, but with a hint of alarm.
His mind was processing this new information, and it was hard for him to believe.
"They… withdrew three months ago?" His words came out slowly, his heart was starting to race.
Yes, you had taken the decision to withdraw from the medical school.
As much as it looked like a tantrum, you didn't care, maybe he was right.
So you followed his advice.
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kissitbttr · 5 months ago
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insecure toji :(
toji is great at hiding his insecurities. best at it, even.
to be a man you are not allowed to showcase any emotion nor shed a tear in front of anyone. it would bring such great dishonor to family, especially to zenin.
that’s how he was raised by his father. he’s got the marks and bruises to prove it, hasn’t he?
but one thing that toji is very much insecure about is he knows how financially unstable he is.
by any means, he’s not poor. yet, he’s not enough either. and it’s never become a problem for him until he has you.
a beautiful woman whom he had met exactly a year ago at a dingy bar when he had just gotten off from his late shift,
he remembers vividly how you looked that night. sophisticated and gorgeous. a dress that fits your body too well and a voice that could make any man weak at their knees.
it was obvious you had eyes on you as a conversation was shared between you and a few friends, yet you paid no mind at first.
but you took that chance anyway and looked to your right, a small chuckle heaved from you as the man quickly averted his gaze down to his lap with a small blush upon his cheeks. embarrassed that he got caught.
“you came alone?” you asked, resting your chin upon your open palm with a small head tilt,
“y-yeah” he laughs, nodding at you. “just got off from a shift, figured a drink would be nice”
you hum, smiling at the handsome man few feet from you. “graveyard shift?” a little tease won’t hurt,
“something like that” he laughs again and you might be biased because he has the most cutest one you’ve ever heard, “all that and still not enough to treat myself somewhere nice”
a joke but you see how much pain he hides when he says that,
“eh—as long as you’re still alive, there are lots of things that needs to be grateful for” you shrug as you answer. “are you grateful, sir?””
never in his life has he ever heard someone asked him that question,
“very much so, ma’am” he nods yet again, lips stretching into a smile and you catch a glimpse of his thin scar adorning his lips. “or at least i try to be”
you listen well to what he has to say. “try” you repeat the word he just said. “exactly—it’s better to say that rather than completely give up everything—got someone back home?”
he chuckles, lacing his fingers together. “if you meant a three year old son, yes”
“he means a lot to you then?”
“i’d give him the world” he corrects your statement in seconds, thoughts of little megumi clouding his mind. “the only thing that keeps me going”
“well—“ you begin again before saying goodbyes to your friends and colleagues. “that makes him your purpose, then”
he hums, confirming everything what you had just said as the two of your continues to stare into each other’s eyes.
“why don’t you come over here? talk to me more about you” you offer,
“would hate to ruin your evening, ma’am—my shit is far too complex and boring” he chuckles,
you shake your head in disagreement, smiling at him. “every human’s life is complex—it just depends on those people around us who’s willing to sit and listen—and i chose to listen. so come here” you push a stool in front of you with your feet for him to sit on,
little did you know, toji immediately fell in love with you that night,
“i’m broke, angel” he admits out of the blue, earning a glance from you. “i don’t know why you wanted to do anything with me when i could barely give you something”
your brows are furrowed, “toji wha-“
“i saw those two men tonight who came up to you. very well dressed men” he swallows a lump, “they could probably fix your life. seeing the watch on their wrists? i mean” he chuckles with no humor laced in it and it concerns you even mode,
“who wouldn’t?” his eyes then move briefly to yours, whose eyes scanning through his features like there’s something deeply wrong about him. “you’re a beautiful woman with a the kindest soul i’ve ever seen and i’m just the lucky bastard who gets to be with you… I still question myself sometimes ‘why on earth does she wants to be with me?’ “
“they could provide you better” he ends the sentence with a small voice
“baby” you speak with tenderness, fingers quickly moving under his chin and get him to look at you when he refuses. “toji baby, look at me”
and it nearly damn breaks your heart when you see toji struggles to push back his tears,
“where is all of this coming from?”
he shrugs merely as a response, shyly looking down,
“I’m supposed to be the man of the house, treating you nice, getting you jewels and shit but i barely can cover up bills to pay” he admits,
and if silence was the only thing you could hear that night, then a chip of your heart could probably still be heard.
“i don’t fucking care” four words leave your mouth sharply. “what you-we” you correct, “have to go through—i will go through it with you—and i will not leave you behind”
toji releases a breath as your thumb pads against his skin, eyes staring contently into yours with a heart that beats softly for you,
“if i had to sit my ass all night, going through jobs applications, and waking up in the morning to drive you for hundreds of interviews then i will” you firmly state, both hands now cupping his face as you wipe away his small tears.
“i will not just sit and watch you fall” hearing your voice almost breaks is enough to make his heart clench too. “who bought megumi his favorite books yesterday?”
toji gulps. “i did”
“who bought the groceries this month because we wanted to have pasta for dinner?”
“i did” he answers again, hand holding your wrist,
“who made reservations at that crazy expensive restaurant on the South because his demanding ass wanted to treat me something?”
hearing that makes him chuckle, nodding. “me”
“yeah” you confirm. “you did, baby.” a small smile appears on your face. “so as long as you’re able to put food on the table, you’re okay. as long as you’re able to give megumi what he needs, you are not broke. as long as you have a roof over your head, treating me good, we are okay. you hear me?”
he nods once again, feeling his heart fails to finds a steady rhythm by how gentle yet firm you are with your words.
“but you mentioned about the dress—“
“ay, papi—enough” a groan escapes you. “i don’t give a damn about a 2,000 dollar dress knowing you’d probably rip it off of me anyway”
toji releases a loud laugh, his hands moving down to your waist. his forehead knocking softly against yours, holding onto you tightly as if he’s afraid that you will disappear.
it is at this moment that toji realizes at this point that no one would probably put up with him nor understand him like you,
because it is what it is. you love him for him not for the money he owns. you look at the whole landscape and saw a real man. that’s what made you fall in love
“none of that bullshit anymore, okay? please?” you beg with wavering voice, hurt that your boyfriend is feeling this way about everything,
“okay—i’m sorry, angel i just—“
“i get it baby, i get it” you nod, kissing his lips. “but you don’t have to be scared with me, yeah? i got you like you got me. and when shit gets too hard, i’ll still be here for you. for megumi” you promise,
“if that was your way of trying to get rid of me then you need to try harder—i’ve had worse and there’s no way in hell i’m leaving” a playful statement that brings another laugh between you two,
“i’ll put the ring on it one day, princess—i promise” and he will, he knows he will,
you know that too,
“i know baby—i know”
maybe lucky isn’t the only thing he’s feeling when he’s got you
not proofread so its probably a mess
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thydungeongal · 2 months ago
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I think people who play D&D despite its combat focus is, and correct me if I heard this wrong from them, but like... the idea is that they don't like combat, so having a big, chunky combat engine is good somehow??? because the rules don't interfere??? with The Roleplay TM.
Or as my GM said it: "I prefer D&D because I don't have to worry about rules when we're Roleplaying TM and it gets combat out of the way"
I don't get it. I don't. I tried asking why the hell you'd play a game with this much Combat Time and I can't get a straight answer. Like, not having combats is somehow impossible. It's required. But also bad, annoying, and must be codified so the GM can turn brain off BUT ALSO have so many rules you are Brain On, wait 15 minutes i gotta check the book heavy.
I think it's legitimately a toxic meme (in the academic sense of the word) being spread to make people think D&D is not about dungeons but "Whatever You Want uwu" or something.
Maybe you can help because I am on the verge of having an aneurysm here.
There's a lot of stuff that plays into this all too common sentiment.
First of all, there's this idea going around in D&D circles that Combat and Roleplay are two things that are not to touch. You see this expressed quite a lot by fans of D&D, the notion that once combat begins roleplaying stops. This is of course a silly notion, because combat is also roleplay, and it's even more silly coming from the players of the game whose rules are 80% combat.
But once you've established in your mind that roleplaying and combat are two, fundamentally incompatible modes of play and the game you're playing mostly has rules for combat and very little rules for stuff outside of combat (and the rules for combat aren't, at the end of the day, all that interesting) it's easy to draw the conclusion that roleplaying and rules are themselves at odds. @prokopetz has articulated this much better than me, and to paraphrase him: in the dichotomy of combat vs. role-playing, combat actually acts as a metonym for rules-mediated play as a whole. So it's your classic role-playing vs. roll-playing dichotomy, which not only smacks of elitism but is also, frankly, idiotic.
Anyway, once a person has drawn the conclusion that rules-mediated play and roleplaying are fundamentally at odds with each other it's easy to see where a person might draw the conclusion that having any rules that touch upon the "roleplaying" side of play would either needlessly restrict the roleplaying or somehow infringe upon the purity of roleplay. Within the dichotomy of role-playing vs. roll-playing role-playing is ultimately seen as basically free play where there are no rules and procedures in play, only to be broken off by the necessary evil of procedural scenes.
Where has this toxic meme come from? Well, sadly it's as old as the hobby itself. A lot of people who are fans of D&D still think they need to inject "real roleplaying" into the dungeon game to grant it legitimacy as a roleplaying game. This is, of course, bull-honkey. D&D, even played as purely a dungeon crawling challenge game with no pretensions of trying to tell a greater story beyond "the story of what happened during the events of the game" is still roleplaying, and ultimately it owes to a lot of D&D players themselves having bought into elitist notions about roleplaying games and not actually even liking the main supported mode of play of D&D.
Because if you take a look at what D&D as a game mostly supports, it's ultimately a challenge-based dungeon game, which is great and cool actually. But if one has a reductive notion of what counts as "real roleplaying," then, well, there's gotta be something wrong with this game. So actually the roleplaying isn't what the rules say and are actually a secret third thing and also it doesn't even matter what the rules say about the game, because system doesn't matter whatsoever.
You might see why, as a person who is passionate about game design and who loves the dungeon crawling challenge game playstyle, I might find this attitude grating.
And I definitely agree that it's a toxic meme, but D&D 5e play culture at this point is mostly a circlejerk about how the game actually is fine and how game design doesn't actually matter and how in those other games the rules actually get in the way of roleplay instead of doing what they actually do: act as a participant in the game on equal footing with the players and with an actual voice as to how the narrative should look like. Even D&D's rules are loudly opinionated about what the act of gameplay should look like, but these people have convinced themselves that the style of play D&D's rules are opinionated about is bad, actually, so in fact any type of rules that are opinionated about play are actually bad rules that get in the way of roleplaying.
Anyway, as a final note, while these ideas have been around for a very long time, there has been something of a resurgence of this idea, and Brennan Lee Mulligan is partly to blame. Brennan is a wonderful comedian and clearly a great entertainer, but he has also espoused the idea that D&D is good because it gets out of the way in the scenes which he is actually interested in (social, interactive scenes) and takes the reins in scenes which he's not interested in (combat scenes, procedural action scenes). I can sort of understand where he is coming from, and in fact the game taking the weight off the pedal during social scenes is great if your players are all extremely funny comedians like you. But it's also basically a playstyle where there are procedural, rules-mediated action scenes followed by essentially improvised, free play cutscenes where the rules themselves don't have anything to say. It doesn't play into the strengths of the medium, which is that the rules of the game are an active participant with an actual voice in the fiction and not just something to be sidelined. So like with all due respect to Brennan Lee Mulligan, but this is something where he simply is incurious and frankly fundamentally disconnected from what the purpose of rules in a tabletop roleplaying game is. The rules aren't there just to handle the boring stuff for you, because in a game you actually enjoy playing there shouldn't be any boring stuff! In a good game engaging with the rules shouldn't be boring! I play older editions of D&D because I like how the rules shape the act of dungeon-crawling and wilderness exploration! I play Monsterhearts because the rules are opinionated about the teen monster melodrama and they produce extremely cool and wildly volatile drama!
All of which is to say: the idea that the rules of a game are somehow diametrically opposed to the act of roleplay is a silly, toxic meme, and one that is often espoused by D&D players who have latched onto D&D because it was the first game they became aware of and who clearly want something more out of games but they have also convinced themselves that D&D is what all RPGs are and the idea that other RPGs might actually differ from D&D in terms of rules quality, how the act of play looks, and the type of play the rules actually incentivize is completely alien to them. A lot of D&D players have nothing but sneering contempt for the playstyle incentivized by D&D because they have convinced themselves that that playstyle is beneath them and not "real roleplaying," and I think those players should stop playing D&D and instead play games that actually support the playstyles they think are befitting real role-players. Also they should shut up and give me like a hundred dollars for being forced to read their posts.
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loulovingho · 2 months ago
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can you do a fic based on the idea that athena and tommy will team up to fly the plane to safety? idk if it doesn't really happen in the show, I'd love a fic version!
disclaimer: I know nothing about planes, nor do I pretend to. we're all just going to smile and nod as we read through this, just like we do when we watch 911. the idea for this fic comes from @mannafromtevan's theory, which is incredible and I hope is true! Also, while looking for the link to this theory, I saw where @bibuckkinard already wrote a fic based on this theory as well. I haven't read it yet, but everything they write is incredible and will definitely be better than this. Anyway, enjoy!
A small aircraft hit the plane. Co-pilot was ejected. The pilot enabled autopilot, but she's unconscious. There's no one to fly the plane!
That was the call that Athena had with air traffic control just after the incident. It had sent more than half of LA's emergency personnel to the nearest airport, the 217 taking lead on the operation.
Everyone was hovered around, listening as Tommy spoke to Athena and tried to get as much information as he could in what little amount of time they had.
“And you said a window was blown out?” Tommy asked.
“Yes. A window and then some.”
“Wide enough for a person to fit through?”
“The co-pilot did.”
Tommy was quiet for a moment. Long enough for Athena to come back over the radio. “Tommy? Are you still there?”
“I'm here, Athena. I'm thinking. Just hang on a sec.”
“Oh, sure,” she answered, the sarcasm in her tone was clear. “I've got nowhere else to be.”
Jameson, a pilot who'd been working with Tommy for nearly five years now, stared at him. He knew that face. “You have an idea.” It wasn't a question.
“Yeah, I do.”
“How stupid is it?”
“It has potential.”
“To work?”
Tommy shook his head. “To be the dumbest thing I've ever done.”
*****
“You cannot be serious right now!” Buck exclaimed as Tommy strapped on his gear. The rest of the crew was working on the helicopter behind him, getting it ready to go as quickly as possible. Hen, Chim, and Eddie were there too, standing back while Tommy and Buck spoke.
“It's the best plan we're gonna get. It's the only plan we're gonna get.”
“It's not even a plan! It's a death sentence.”
“Not if I succeed it's not.”
“Tommy-”
“We've done crazier things, Evan. Like flying through a hurricane.”
“Intermittent showers,” Buck corrected. “And I'd say repelling from a helicopter and into a torn apart jet to try and land the thing when half the controls aren't working is a little crazier than flying through bad weather!”
Tommy placed his hands on Buck's shoulders. “Breathe, Evan. The rescue mission was fully approved by all proper authorities.”
“You sure you didn't fake mouth static your way into approval?”
Tommy gave him a look. “There might've been a few omissions. I cannot confirm or deny that though.”
“Tommy.”
“Hey, what's our motto?” he said, looking past Buck and pointing to the rest of the 118.
“Who cares?!” They chanted.
“Me!” Buck exclaimed. “I care!” He followed behind Tommy as he headed for the chopper. “Tommy, please don't-”
Tommy turned on his heels, nearly running straight into Buck as he did so. “Evan,” he started, his voice calm and assured, “If you knew how to fly, you'd already be up there.”
“But-”
“Am I wrong?”
Buck pursed his lips, eying Tommy closely before replying. “No.”
“I've gotta go. I will do my best to make it back to you, Evan. I promise that.”
That was it for Buck. He didn't care who was around. He tugged Tommy by his gear, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Be safe.”
Tommy nodded, giving Buck's hand a squeeze before running to the helicopter. Buck took a deep breath, holding back his tears as he watched them take off.
*****
It took time, and a lot of precision, for Tommy to finally reach the opening of the plane. There were a few close calls along the way, but once Athena had ahold of his legs, he allowed himself to relax a little.
“Good to see you, Athena,” Tommy said with a smile once he had successfully made it inside the plane.
“I'm not sure if good is the correct word to be using right now,” Athena replied. “But I am glad you're here.”
“Happy to be here.” Tommy disconnected himself from all the wiring he was attached to, guiding it back out of the hole so the helicopter could return to base.
Athena moved some debris out of the way, making room for Tommy to sit in pilot's seat. There were lights flashing everywhere, some repetitive beeping from alarms, not to mention the giant hole that was allowing wind to whip through the cockpit.
“What do you think?” Athena asked as he pressed some buttons, his face scrunched up tight.
He flipped a switch on one of the control panels, which caused the entire thing to fall off the dash.
“Well, that's not helpful,” he said, tossing it aside. “So, got any plans this weekend?”
She glared over at him. “Wasn't really thinking that far ahead.”
“I was thinking about taking Evan for a helicopter tour around the city... May be in bad taste now though.”
Athena sat beside him, a light sheen of sweat across her forehead. “Tommy, give it to me straight here. How screwed are we?”
He shrugged, keeping his focus on the controls that were still connected to the plane. “You believe in God?”
“I do.”
“Mind praying for us both then?”
“That bad?”
Before Tommy could respond, his captain's voice was coming over the radio in his helmet. “Give me a rundown, Kinard. What's going on?”
Athena listened as Tommy went through a (very long) list of everything wrong with the plane. He went over controls that were damaged, and the very few that weren't. She heard something about autopilot still working well, and something else about a manual landing, but most of it made no sense to her.
“I'm gonna need you to repeat all of that,” Athena said once he was finished, “but in a way I'll actually understand.”
He glanced over at her briefly, the plane jumping with sudden turbulence. Athena grabbed onto the the broken panel in front of her and Tommy focused his eyes back on the controls. “We're running low on fuel. We're gonna have to try to land after the next turn, and we'll end up dropping pretty fast. Basically, I can land us manually, but I can't promise the breaks will work.”
“That seems like a pretty important part of landing,” she deadpanned.
“I'd definitely say it's a favorite of mine.”
Athena took a deep breath before asking her next question. “And if the breaks don't work? What happens then?”
“There's a very high chance this thing will blow up if we can't stop by the end of the runway.”
“Oh dear God.”
“There is good news though.”
“Hm.” She eyed him skeptically. “What's that?”
“We won't feel a thing.”
“Oh, well, that's a relief. Don't know what I was ever worried about in the first place,” she replied sarcastically. “How much time do we have before you land her?”
“About ten minutes. Intercom system is out, right?”
“Yes.”
“Can you go make sure everyone has their seatbelts fastened?”
Athena headed back to the passengers. Tommy took the moment alone to breathe deeply and steal himself for whatever was about to happen. Part of being a pilot required confidence and, even if he didn't have much of it at the moment, he knew how to play the part.
Fake it til you make it.
He'd done that a lot over the years. It worked in a professional sense, not so much in a personal one.
A couple minutes later, Athena returned. “All buckled in,” she informed him as she went to sit in the co-pilot's seat again.
“It's actually probably better if you sit in the jump seat behind me,” Tommy said.
“Why? So when we explode my arm doesn't knock you upside the head for getting me killed? Nah, I'm good here.”
Tommy smirked. Even after working with Athena on and off for over twenty years, he'd never spent much time with her. The few dinners he and Evan had with her and Bobby didn't give them much time to banter back and forth. He'd have to make sure and change that once they were on solid ground. “Suit yourself.”
“Can I borrow your helmet for a second?” she asked.
“Sure.” He handed it over and she put it on, clearing her throat.
“Can I speak to Hen Wilson from the 118, please?” she asked over the radio.
A few seconds later, Hen was on the line. “I'm here, Athena. You're on an open channel.”
“Hen, Bobby isn't at the airport, is he?”
“No. He's on his way, but he hasn't made it yet. You want me to put him on with you?”
“No, no!” Athena answered quickly. “No. What I need to say, I can say to you.”
Tommy focused on keeping the plane steady while Athena spoke. It felt wrong to listen in to something as personal as a possible goodbye.
He took the time to think about Evan. The short but wonderful time he'd had with him over the past few months. They'd been the best of his life.
He briefly wondered if he should tell Evan that before he attempted to land, but he decided against it. Evan wouldn't need those thoughts running through his head for the rest of his life if they didn't make it out of this.
“Hey,” Athena's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She nudged his shoulder with the helmet. “Someone wants to talk to you.”
Tommy paused before taking the helmet back. “Go for Kinard.”
“Kinard, this is Buckley of the 118.” Tommy smiled at the sound of Evan's voice, even though he could hear it breaking ever so slightly.
“I hear you, Buckley.”
“I just, um, I wanted you to, um. Tommy.” He cleared his throat. “You've got this, okay? We're all down here waiting. N- Not a single doubt.”
“Good to know. No doubts up here either.”
He ignored the raised eyebrow look from Athena.
“Good. Um, Tommy?”
“Yeah, Evan?”
“I love you.” The words escaped him quickly, but with a confidence that wasn't there before.
Tommy smiled, his heart fluttering. He didn't realize he hadn't spoken until Evan's voice came over the radio again.
“T- Tommy?”
Tommy shook his head, blinking to rid himself of the tears in his eyes. “Chschschsch,” he said, bringing back his renowned fake mouth static, thank you very much. Athena stared over at him in confusion. “Sorry, Buckley, you're cutting out on me. You'll have to repeat that last sentence when I'm on the ground, okay?”
“Yeah,” Evan answered, and Tommy was sure there was a faint smile in his voice. “Yeah, o- okay.”
*****
About a minute later, Tommy was in position and ready to land. He got in contact with everyone on the ground, letting them know where and when he'd be landing. They were all getting into position near the runway, ready to help no matter the outcome.
“You ready?” Tommy asked as Athena tightened her seatbelt.
“Let's land this bastard.”
“Coming in for a landing.”
The closer they got to the ground, the shakier things got. Tommy held tightly onto the controls, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes from all the wind coming in through the hole.
They dropped rapidly, just as he expected they would. Athena kept quiet, and Tommy wondered if she was praying.
A part of him hoped she was.
As the runway got closer and closer into view, Tommy could feel every muscle in his body tightening. “Brace yourself,” he said a few seconds before they hit the ground with a thud.
Screams could be heard coming from the passengers, many of them crying or calling out to whatever god they believed in.
“We're going too fast.” Athena watched as they flew past all the emergency vehicles waiting for them.
“We're okay,” Tommy replied. Fake it til you make it.
They started to slow down, but the end of the runway was drawing near and it was becoming clear they would not be able to stop in time.
“Tommy.”
“We're okay,” he repeated, although it sounded more like a demand.
Athena could see the details of the signs at the end of the runway. “Tommy!”
Suddenly, Tommy turned the plane to loop around to the next runway. As he did, the wing hit a sign that flung backwards, eliciting more yells from the passengers.
The plan, or lack thereof, seemed to work. The plane slowed until it came to a stop.
They were alive.
They were actually alive.
Before he even had time to let it fully sink in, Athena was next to him, wrapping him in an unexpected, but very needed, hug.
“You might be clinically insane,” she said, both of them laughing from all the adrenaline coursing through their bodies. “But I'm so damn glad you are.”
“Why don't we get everyone off this plane?” he asked. “Then go see our guys.”
“I like the sound of that.”
*****
Athena and Tommy made sure they were the last ones off the plane. Athena spotted Bobby first. He had apparently arrived just before the landing and saw the whole thing. Tommy watched them reunite as his eyes darted around looking for his own person.
“It's been decided that I have the coolest, most badass boyfriend in the entire world,” a voice said from behind him.
Tommy whipped around to Evan standing there, arms already open wide, a bright smile on his face. Tommy practically fell into him. They held onto one another so tight that Tommy could have sworn they were melding into one.
“I was so worried,” Buck breathed out, his face pressed into Tommy's neck.
“I thought you had no doubts?” Tommy's voice was muffled against Buck's turnouts. He made no effort to move.
“Like you believed that for a second.”
After holding onto each other a little longer, Tommy pulled back just enough to look Buck in the eyes. “If I remember correctly, you were in the middle of telling me something when my radio started to go out,” he said with a smirk on his face.
Buck brought his hands to Tommy's face, his thumbs stroking Tommy's cheeks. “I love you, Tommy,” he said, and that confidence was back in his voice. “I really, really love you.”
“I love you too, Evan.” He pulled Buck in for a kiss, deep and passionate and filled with all the love they'd been keeping to themselves for the last few months.
The sound of a throat clearing had them, reluctantly, separating from one another. Bobby and Athena were walking up behind them, smiles on both of their faces.
“Athena!” Buck exclaimed, immediately going to her for a hug. “Are you okay?”
“All good,” she answered, “thanks to your man.”
“Thank you, Tommy,” Bobby said, bypassing a handshake and going in for a hug. “You saved a lot of lives tonight.”
He took a deep breath. “All part of the job, right?”
“I think you went far above and beyond the job tonight,” Bobby replied. "Probably have another medal in your future."
Buck's proudly returned to Tommy's side, their arms wrapping around each other's waist.
“You've got a good one here, Buck,” Athena said, patting Tommy on the shoulder. “You should keep him.”
Buck smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “That's the plan.”
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