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a-babe-without-a-name · 3 months ago

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Sit Next To Me

Chapter 3: That’s Actually Very Unreasonable.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Yay! Ch 3 is finally done! I pay Rugby and practice started up this week, which is a big reason this wasn't done a little bit sooner. But thank you to everyone for bearing with me and thank you SO MUCH for the support. I've received so many kind comments and messages, I'm so happy that I decided to actually finish and post this instead of letting it it in my google drive. Chapter 4 is coming, I'm not gonna promise when, but its on the way.

At the request of at least one person, I'm going to start a tag list in the replies of each chapter, lmk if you want to be added to that!

ALSO. Someone sent in a request and I am very excited about this. I wasn't planning on asking for requests, but I think it would be good for me to use those as a brain break from the main long form story. So if anyone is interested, feel free to send one shot or head canon requests my way! NSFW or SFW is fine! If you have questions, send an ask :) Anyways, I'll shut up now. Enjoy <3

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Waking up on Saturday was…difficult, to say the least. After spending the summer mostly sober, save for the occasional drink with your dad or joint by yourself, your body was not prepared for the previous night's substance intake. You felt grimy when you came to in your bed. Your skin sticky from sweat, your mouth dryer than all hell, and your brain felt like it had been shaken in a jar. Laying there, face in your pillow, the pros and cons of climbing out of bed tumbled around your head.

You decided that if it was before noon, you’d allow yourself a few more hours of sleep, otherwise you had to get up. Blindly you stuck a hand onto the counter at the head of your bed, knocking things left out from last night around until you found your phone. The bright screen made your temple pulse when you clicked it on.

12:01.

You dropped your head and groaned into the pillow. A deal was a deal, though, even with yourself. You gave yourself grace as you sat up in bed, looking around your tiny double dorm room. Bright light shone around the edge of the blinds, making you squint. Clothes were still scattered around your side, your hightops dropped haphazardly on the floor, not far from your shorts. You had barely managed to piss, brush your teeth, and put on clean underwear before knocking out last night. You could still feel what little makeup you had on last night smeared around your eyes. All of your pre-made plans to hydrate and clean up before going to bed were abandoned as soon as you set foot into your room.

Lest on the other hand, looked like a princess in her bed. Washed hair in two braids, fresh pjs on, and her trusty sleep mask covering her eyes. She even layed like a princess, flat on her back with her hands folded on her stomach. You envied her discipline for hygiene even when drunk.

You slid out of bed. Bracing yourself on the frame with a groan when your stomach flipped. Lest didn’t even flinch, she slept both like a princess and a log. You left on the clothes you slept in, wrapped a towel around your waist, and gathered your shower bag. First order of business was to clean up, because even one more minute of feeling like you were covered in a film of alcohol and smoke and you were gonna peel your skin off.

The shared hallway was aggressively bright, but fortunately empty. You were sure you couldn’t handle an awkward ‘on the way to the shower’ run in with a hallmate right now. You’d probably throw up on the carpet. Luckily on a well weathered first Saturday of the semester, the hall was virtually abandoned. Which also meant that the only single user bathroom on your side of the building was free.

You leaned heavily against the closed door, eyes screwed shut as you fought back the wave of nausea that came with your short walk. With your eyes closed you found the automatic light switch, pushing the button to shut the lights down. The frosted window let in just enough light to see without burning your eyes out. You hung up your things and started the shower, knowing it would take a while for it to warm up.

You took that time to brush your teeth, sick of the grit that lined your mouth. When you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but to cringe. You were a wreck. The makeup around your eyes was worse than you imagined, smeared completely around your eyes in an intense racoon mask. Your hair was half out of the scrunchie you had pulled it into on the way home, hanging awkwardly on your neck. As you brushed your teeth, you tilted your head at the borrowed shirt realizing something off about it. You frowned at it in the mirror, trying to make out what the writing said. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Metallica. You spit in the sink and set your toothbrush to the side before pulling the shirt over your head. It didn’t say Metallica, it said Mozart in the Metallica font.

You snorted a laugh, “Jayce, what the fuck?” Folding the shirt up, you shoved it into your bag, hoping you'd remember to wash it with your laundry. When you caught a glimpse of your bare torso in the mirror, you froze.

Memories of last night came flooding back as you stared at the red marks scattered across your body. An unsteady line of hickeys connected one hip bone to the other, a few were splayed up across your stomach and in a cluster across your chest. There was even one framed by a perfect bite mark on the top of your shoulder.

“God damn…” You muttered, turning in the mirror in search of more. While you didn’t find any more hickeys sucked into your skin, you did find thin bruises on the sides of both your thighs from his fingers digging into your flesh.

You stepped closer to the mirror, ghosting your fingertips over the marks. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of his hands on you. You could still feel him against you, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You gripped the edge of the sink, willing the thoughts away. It was a hookup with a stranger who’s name wasn’t even known to you. It wasn’t going to happen again.

Despite that fact, you thought of him in the shower until the water ran cold.

-----

Lest was awake when you made it back to your room. In the time it took you to shower she had managed to get dressed, make both herself and you coffee and frozen breakfast sandwiches, clean up your side of the room, and get the first season of Love Island up on your TV. She was stirring creamer into her coffee when you came in.

“Goodmorning,” You said, locking your door behind you, “How long have you been up?”

“Like, 45 minutes,” She said, setting the creamer to the side for you, “Were you in the shower that whole time?”

“Er, yeah, sorry. I wanted to shave,” You lied, a little surprised at how long you had actually been gone. You hoped Lest wouldn’t notice that you definitely had not shaved.

You dressed quickly. You and Lest had never been shy about changing in front of each other, but right now you had yourself angled awkwardly against your closet, praying to god she didn’t catch a glimpse of the love bites you were sporting. Luckily you managed to pull on a tshirt and sweats without her noticing. It’s not like you needed to hide from her, you usually told her everything as soon as it happened, but this time you wanted to keep it to yourself. At least for a little bit. You knew she’d have something, probably valid, to say about the complete unknown of the man you had sex with. She’d scold you on how dangerous it was and drag you to the health center to get tested for an STD.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked as you made up your coffee.

“A little like I was hit by a truck,” You shrugged, putting the cream away in your tiny fridge, “But I’ve definitely felt worse. You?”

“Better than I thought I would,” Lest told you, starting the show, “I didn’t drink much towards the end, and I didn’t smoke at all so I guess it makes sense.”

“You’re lucky,” You joked, climbing into bed with your coffee and breakfast, “We’re still doing nothing today right?”

“Oh, for sure.” Lest said nodding with wide eyes, “This is probably the last weekend we’ll be able to actually push homework off. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” You nodded, sipping your coffee and tuning into the trashy reality show you and Lest were hooked on.

You realized pretty quickly that all the gorgeous men and women and unhealthy relationships in the world wouldn’t distract you enough. You had figured post your incredibly long shower you’d be free of Pretty Boy, that the memory of him would ebb away. No luck.

By the time Micheal had been cast out of the Villa, you had managed to replay last night's events a hundred times in your head. It wasn’t just the sex that you were hyper focused on, it was every second you were near him. You kept thinking about how he looked in the kitchen, the way the lights moved over his skin and hair. The fact that even in the dark his eyes were still so bright and warm. You could hear the lilt of his accent in your head, all the words he said to you, all the things he called you.

What really stuck with you was how soft it all had been. How gentle and kind he had been with you. The way his voice sounded when he asked if you were leaving. How much you wished you had said no. This was going to haunt you for at least a week, you knew it would. You were preparing for it to be a very hard and very unfocused week.

Lest called you out a few times during the lazy afternoon, questioning your mental absence from the shared room. You brushed her off with excuses of exhaustion and nausea. You could tell she was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. Eventually, not many hours after waking up, you let yourself fall asleep to the thought of his lips on yours.

-------

On Sunday you woke up well before the sun, thanks to your early bedtime. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but as your room slowly turned from pitch black into grey tones you knew it wasn’t going to happen. Quietly you pulled yourself out of bed and got ready for the day. It was barely even six by the time you were finished getting ready, but you were restless. Scribbling a note for Lest, you left your dorm.

There was a time when you’d go on a walk before the sun was fully up every morning. It was when you enjoyed campus the most. The cold and quiet of it was comforting, it felt like home. Almost completely deserted at this hour. The only souls you ever saw this early were the landscapers, perfecting the small campus before the day began, and the occasional early rising professor walking a beloved campus dog. On a Sunday, though, it was truly empty.

You wandered without really knowing where you were going, you let your feet remember the familiar path they once took so frequently. The sun barely peeked over the line of trees and brick buildings, casting long shadows over the quad. Dew grayed the grass, evaporating where the sun touched it. Eventually you reached the flower garden nestled between the two original buildings of the campus. You settled on a cold stone bench, the dedication plaque so worn it was nearly unreadable.

You looked around the garden. The variety of flowers were in full bloom as the summer came to a close, each one tended to with great care. It was a sacred place on campus, for everyone. It was where most students had been introduced to the school, the garden being the meeting spot for all campus tours. During both matriculation and graduation, students paraded through it. The flowers were both a beautiful welcome and a bittersweet goodbye to those who chose Piltover for their education. It was impossible not to love it.

You sighed and picked at a patch of lichen on the edge of the bench. Remembering what else you used to do on these early walks, another habit you regretfully fell out of. You dragged your knees up to your chest and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket. Your fingers were on autopilot as they navigated to your contacts.

It rang only once.

“Good morning Buddy,” Your dad’s voice was warming even through the phone.

“Good morning,” You said, leaning your cheek against your knee, “How are you?”

“I’m good, just getting ready to head out on the boat,” You could hear him shuffling around as he spoke. You could picture him, preparing for the day in the kitchen, “How are you? You’re up pretty early.”

“Working on a Sunday? That’s unlike you,” You joked, it was actually very like him, “I fell asleep early last night, couldn't go back to bed.”

“No, actually, not working today,” You heard the front door of your house open and close, “I’m headed out with the guys. The weathers going to be good for some deep fishing, today.”

“Oh good, that’ll be nice. I hope the catch is good,” You were glad he was taking time for himself, “Send me pictures if you get anything cool.”

“Of course buddy,” He laughed, you heard his truck start up, “Wait, so you went to bed early on a Saturday night? When did you become so boring?”

You scoffed, “Excuse me, are you mad that I am a responsible adult?”

“That’s not what I said!” He assured you.

“Yeah sure,” You rolled your eyes but smiled anyways, “Besides, it was friday night that I was out until three in the morning, rest assured I am certainly not boring.”

“Hm, okay,” He was quiet for a moment, “You’re making good decisions, I hope? Staying safe.”

You groaned at the implications of his words, embarrassed that they weren't actually that far off. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yes Dad, I am making perfectly fine decisions,” You half lied to him.

“Good to know. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

“Ew,” You fake gagged, “Don’t say stuff like that.”

He laughed on the other end. It had been a week and a half since you saw him last, but you already missed the sound of him laughing, “How was your first week of classes?”

“Good,” You told him, “So far at least. I mean, it's the first week and I already have a good amount of homework to do, which sucks, but I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got this, though,” He assured you, never not confident in your abilities, “You always do. What classes are you taking again?”

“I have two envi-sci classes right now, one with a lab, a chemistry class with a lab, and I’m taking an Asian American Lit class, to keep myself from going crazy in the science building.” You told him, thinking about your particularly heavy science schedule, “I’m trying to switch chemistry classes, though. There's a smaller class with a…better professor. Not that my current professor is bad, it’s just that Heimerdinger is, like, the best professor here. I’d like to take at least one class with him. I’m on the waiting list.”

“Sounds like a good schedule. I’m glad you're taking a non-science class, it’ll be good for your brain,” He told you, “And I’ll cross my fingers you get into that class you want.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You laughed, at this point you didn’t have much hope for getting in, but you could always try next semester.

“Hey, has your mom talked to you?” The question made you groan.

“No, why?” You didn’t particularly want to talk to her, not since her 2nd remarriage last summer.

“She called the other day and asked if she could have you for Christmas this year?” He was treading carefully, “I think you should.”

‘What? No way,” You answered immediately, offended at the idea that you would want to do that, “First of all, I’m not 15 anymore, neither of you get to have me, I can decide where I want to go for breaks. And second, Why would I want to spend break in Arizona with her child groom and his infant children?”

He was, clearly, not a child groom. Paul was 35, but in comparison to your mother’s age- 45- he might as well be a teenager. His kids weren’t infants either, 9 & 14, but, again, they might as well have been.

“Hey, I know, I trust you to make your own decisions, but I also know that you’ve developed a lot of anger recently with your mom,” He sighed, “I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with her your whole life, it’s not healthy.”

“Really milking those two years of psychology undergrad, huh,” You joked bitterly. Your dad would have been the best therapist in the world if he had finished school. Your surprise arrival put an end to that half dream instantly. He never resented you for it.

“I’m serious, buddy,” His voice was calm, urging you to be open, “It wouldn’t have to be for the whole break, just a couple days around Christmas. If you want to spend the rest of the time here with me you can, obviously. Just think about it?”

“Fine…I’ll think about it,” You pouted, he could convince you of anything, “But no promises.”

“Thank you, sorry for springing this on you right now.” You could hear chatter somewhere behind him, he was probably at the docks by now.

“It’s okay, sorry for being a brat about it,” You laughed softly.

“You’d be nothing without your attitude,” He teased, in the background you could hear someone calling his name.

“I get it from you,” That wasn’t entirely true, you and him both knew it, “But hey, I’ll let you go, sounds like you’re needed.”

“Yeah, the guys just showed up,” He admitted, “I can tell them to wait for a bit though if you want to keep talking?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” You insisted, checking the time, “I should probably go, anyways. Me and Lest are gonna go work on homework in a bit.”

“Okay, no problem,” He told you, you wished you could talk to him all day, you wished you were going fishing with him, “I’m proud of you, buddy, and I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Dad,” You said, trying to hold back tears, “Have fun out there, be safe.”

“Always am. Tell Lest I say hello for me, Love you.” He let you hang up the phone.

You wrapped your arms around your legs and buried your head in your knees, unable to hold back the sobs. You let yourself cry. You didn’t think this was how you’d start your morning, but it was fine. Almost cathartic in a way, to let yourself be sad about something as childish as missing your dad who was only a day. You knew it was fine and very normal, but it still felt immature. Regardless, you let yourself cry until Lest finally texted you.

-------

The rest of the day was just as unexpected. When you headed back to your dorm Lest had just started to get ready. You laid in your bed, scrolling through your phone until she was ready. In the hour or so it took her to shower, get dressed, and gather her school work, the weather took a drastic change. You had wanted to lay out on the quad and do work, but the soft sunny sky was full of clouds now, all threatening rain. Instead, you and Lest headed to the small coffee shop on campus. Here it was much harder to focus. You camped out at a table in the corner, despite this everyone who knew you or her came over to chat. Meaning the amount of work you finished was…disappointing, to say the least.

Then, due to the cafe's short Sunday hours, you had to relocate once again. At the overly polite requests of the baristas, you packed up and hauled off to the library. You wished you had come here in the first place. It was pretty much vacant this time of day and you and Lest set up in the quiet section, assuring no one would bother you even if they wanted to. Workflow was steady now, you managed to knock out one assignment after another. In the quiet of the library you were even able to focus on your textbook readings enough to take notes.

As the afternoon began to turn to evening and the library began to fill up, you were finally in the home stretch. Lest was on her last set of practice questions for her math class and you had one more reading and a chemistry practice test to do. You’d probably be back to your room within the hour. You opened up the practice test, determined to get everything done.

It was harder than you had expected. Some of the questions were fairly basic, things you knew from level one and even highschool chemistry, and there were a few that took a little effort but were fresh in your head from last semester. Almost half the questions, though, were questions that were completely foreign to you. You could make out bits and pieces of it in your brain. Some questions gently touched by your previous professors and others that you could make shaky assumptions on. You tried to remind yourself that this was a practice test for a reason, but the shitty score you knew would show at the end still bothered you. In the end you got 65%.

You opened up your email to check for submission confirmation before moving on to the reading. A recent message at the top of the box made you pause. You read it quickly once, twice, three times.

“I’m off the waitlist,” You told Lest, flinching when someone at a nearby table shushed you.

“What?” She whispered, leaning closer to see your laptop.

“I’m off the waitlist for chem,” You whispered back, opening up the class portal and accepting the offer.

“I thought you were in a chem class already?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, but I got into the class with the professor I actually want,” You explained, wishing you could be more excited than the setting allowed.

“Oh, that's…good,” You could tell she didn’t quite get it, but wanted to be happy for you anyways.

“Yes, it’s very good,” You laughed, pushing your chair away from the table, “and as a reward, I’m gonna go piss.”

“Babe, please don’t give yourself a UTI because you only pee after academic success,” Lest jokingly begged, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh as you walked away from the table, ignoring the dirty looks from other tables. You were thrilled, a class with Heimerdinger genuinely opened up a world of connections. He knew scientists in every field all over the world. Of course, as the dean of the science department, he was willing to help any student make connections, but it was definitely easier if you were in his class. You were so happy about this, you didn’t mind that the practice test you just spent an hour on was for a class you were about to drop.

You pulled out your phone, shooting off a text to your dad.

Got into the class I wanted! Thx 4 crossing ur fingers

He responded immediately.

Yay… that’s great, happy for you… wanna see the catch today?

You shook your head at the ellipses habit he refused to break. Such an old man.

TY!!! Yes obvi. Fish Now.

He sent back a photo of himself and one of the older guys he fished with holding an impressively sized mahi mahi.

Omg mahi this late in the szn is craaazzyyy, very jealous

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness that bloomed in your chest. Missing your dad intensely for the second time that day.

Yeah, me and the guys were surprised for sure…I got go, talk to you later?

Oki!

Love you Buddy

Love u toooo

You slammed into someone in your distraction as you hit send. The apology coming out of your mouth only made it halfway, your mind and body freezing up at the flash of chestnut hair and pale skin above you.

“Woah, watch it.” The guy, who you realized a second later was not in fact Pretty Boy, snapped at you.

“Sorry,” Your voice came out like a squeak, you cleared your throat, speaking louder, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s…uh it’s fine,” Not Pretty Boy said, looking down at you oddly, “Are you okay?”

You realized you were staring at him, studying all the ways in which he wasn’t Pretty Boy. Too stocky, face too round, hair too long, eyes a dull green.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry,” You shook your head, stepping past him as you apologized again.

You hurried off to the restroom, face burning as you locked yourself into a stall. You had managed to keep him out of your head all day. You dressed without looking at the marks he left behind, you kept your mind busy with work and thoughts of your family situation, you barely even acknowledged the fact that you had a body.

And now after all that work, here you were, unable to think about anything besides him. You groaned and thumped your head against the stall door, knowing he’d be inescapable for the rest of the night.

You stared at your hand on your leg, fingers digging into the bruises under your jeans. You had set your book down for the hundredth time, barely halfway through the reading, distracted again. Every time you tried to read the words on the page, you wouldn’t get far. Unable to process any of the information you were looking at. It all felt like a different language. You could feel his hands pressing into your legs, his lips on your neck, accent in your ears.

Something hitting your forehead made you jump, startling you out of the daydream.

“Earth to struggling student,” Lest whispered, crumpling another sticky note and launching it at you.

You swatted the yellow paper away, frowning at her, “What?”

“Girl, where have you been this weekend?” Lest hissed, leaning across the table, eyebrows furrowed, “You’ve been weird ever since Jayce’s party. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You shrugged.

“Okay, liar,” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” You insisted, rifling the pages of your book.

She stared at you, blink her big eyes expectantly. At this point, she wasn’t going to give up.

“I hooked up with someone at the party” You muttered, not looking at her.

“What?” She gasped, ignoring the looks from other tables. She stood and took the seat next to you, pulling her chair close and leaning in, “When?”

“When I went to wash my top in the garage,” You told her, chewing on your lip, “I wasn’t exactly smoking alone,”

“Oh my god!” She squeaked, eyes wide, “You fucked someone in Jayce and Cait’s garage??”

“Shhh,” You placed a palm over her mouth, worried about wandering ears, “Be quiet, I don’t need the whole student body to know.”

She just blinked at you over the top of your hand, waiting.

“Yeah, in the garage,” You could feel your face getting hot.

“Did you guys… like, get a home run? Or only make it to 3rd base?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What are you? 12?” You scoffed, glancing sideways as you told her, “...home run.”

“Good girl!” She punched you lightly on the arm, “Wait, that’s why you’ve been so spacy? You’ve been thinking about your little garage escapade all weekend?”

“Lest, you don't get it,” You insisted, “It was, like, amazing. Quite possibly the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Like, honeymoon waited until marriage but somehow still perfect at it kind of sex.”

“No way,”

“Yes way, bitch,” You said, raising your eyebrows at her, “yes fucking way.”

“Damn…” She stared down at the table, then quirked her head to the side, “Who?”

There it was, the reason you hadn’t told her as soon as it happened.

“Um, well…” You hesitated. Lest narrowed her eyes at you, you could see her mind scrolling the list of possibilities. You cringed, “I don’t exactly know.”

Lest gaped at you, “What?”

“We were both high,” You admitted sheepishly, “And kind of caught up with other things. Names didn’t come up.”

“Are you crazy?”

“He was nice!” You defended, “Like, so fucking nice.”

“That is so dangerous!” She scolded, more concerned than mad, “Did you use a condom?”

“Christ, Lest, of course,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m not dumb.”

“I know, but you said you were high,” She shrugged, “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to find a way to squeeze a crib into our dorm.”

“Twenties pregnancy is no joke,” You told Lest, trying to hold your face straight as long as you could before the corners of your mouth cracked upwards.

“Damn, so great sex guy is anonymous,” She sighed, “That’s kind of a bummer. He goes here right?”

“He said he did,” You told her, “That’d be an odd thing to lie about, right?”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll see him at another party?” She said, hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” You sighed, “I don’t know, it was so good I almost don’t want to do it again.”

“That makes zero sense,” she scrunched her nose.

“I mean, I fucked this guy once for, like, an hour.” You explained, “And he is all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days. Do I really want to do this again?”

“Well, if you make it a habit,” She offered.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, shaking your head, “It sucks, but I think it’s better if it doesn't happen again. I don’t think my grades could handle it.” You waved the book you had tried and failed to read for the past hour.

“Skill issue.” She shrugged, shutting her laptop, “Do you have to finish that reading tonight? I wanna get dinner.”

“Uh, thanks Lest, very cool,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her joke, “And I’m not going to be able to anyways. I’ll finish it before class tomorrow.”

“Okay good,” Lest said, standing and stretching her arms over her head, “I’ll get us Thai if you promise details.”

“Hm, you know, I’m not against trading my secrets for pad thai and mango rice,” You laughed, packing your stuff up.

Clasping her hands together she determined, “This is, like, better than Love Island.”

You just scoffed, shaking your head at her.

-------

As thrilled as you were to be taking Heimerdinger's class, there was one tiny drawback. It was your first and only seven am. You had managed four whole semesters of not having to be in a class until at least nine. That was very much on purpose, because dragging yourself out of bed at five in the morning was not your idea of a good start to the day.

As much as you wanted to skip past your first alarm and show up to class unshowered and in sweatpants, you figured that wasn’t the most professional first impression to make on the dean. So you got up like a good student. You took your time getting ready and double checking that you had everything you’d need for your two classes of the day, preferring to not haul back to the dorm between them. You had correctly calculated enough time to stop at the cafe on the way to grab coffee with a higher caffeine content than what you could make in your room.

There were quite a few seven am classes available, but given that you were over 30 minutes early, the halls of the science building were still fairly deserted. A few offices were lit up and some classrooms had TAs setting up for the day, but not much student presence yet. When you found the room the schedule had directed you to, you were pleased to see it was empty. It’d be easier to talk to who you considered the most intimidating professor on campus without an audience.

The classroom was small, but you knew the lab attached through a door at the back would be much bigger. Professor Heimerdinger was sitting behind the desk at the front, fidgeting with the desktop computer. You knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

“Good morning Professor Heimerdinger,” You greeted, stepping partially into the room as you told him your name, “I was on the waitlist until last night, I wasn’t sure if they told you I had moved off of it.”

“Oh! Good morning, dear,” He beamed from under his impressively large mustache, moving away from the computer, “Yes, it was mentioned that there may be a change in the roster. I’m glad you were able to move up from the waitlist. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, you had never been in the same room as the esteemed man, only ever seen him give speeches or in passing around campus, you walked over to his desk, “I’m also glad to be here, I’ve been looking forward to taking one of your classes. I’ve heard great things.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” He walked around his desk and extended a hand up towards you. Due to his short stature you had to bend just slightly at the waist to return the gesture, “I’m glad to have you in class, your name is familiar. Are you acquaintances with Mr. Jayce Talis, by chance?”

You knew Jayce had been lucky enough to score Heimerdinger as his advisor and close mentor, you were surprised he had mentioned you, though.

“Yes, actually, Jayce is a very close friend of mine,” You told him, trying to hide a nervous laugh, “Has he been speaking of me?”

“Only good things, my dear,” He said, picking up on your anxiety, “I assure you.”

“Good to know,” You laugh, hoping it wasn’t too loud in the small space, “Thank you, again, I am really grateful for the opportunity to be in your class.”

“Well of course,” He told you, moving back around his desk as he spoke, “Have you been able to acquire the reading materials for the class?”

“I ordered the textbook last night,” You explained, “I should have it by the end of the week. I’m sure I can borrow a copy from a classmate for the time being.”

“No need, I have an extra copy you are welcome to use until yours arrives,” He pulled a dense book from under his desk, “It’s an earlier edition, though, so just be sure that you read the correct sections.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” You took the worn book, he also handed you a printed syllabus, “Was there reading for today? I could try to get some of it done before class starts.”

“Last week’s schedule became a little jumbled due to my being under the weather, so the first reading is due next class, if you would like to review the syllabus and schedule before class, you will be all caught up,” He explained. You couldn’t describe the relief this gave you, “We only met for one class last week, so you aren’t behind, but the class has already been divided into groups for the semester. I apologize that you were not here for the grouping. I allow students to choose who they work with, so if you see someone you know feel free to join their group.”

“Okay, thank you.” You nodded and turned to find a seat.

As Heimerdinger returned back to his computer, you set up in the corner of the room. The syllabus was fairly basic, but gave a good explanation of the Professor’s expectations. You were sure this wasn’t going to be an easy class, but you were also sure you’d enjoy the challenge. The only thing that was making you anxious was the fact that none of the students that showed up were familiar to you. You watched as the clock ticked closer and closer to seven, your knee bouncing under the table. You tried to distract yourself by skimming through the borrowed textbook, settling on a random section to pass the time with.

You were halfway through the chapter about asymmetric oxidation and reduction when a newer copy of the book was dropped on the table in front of you with a bang. You jumped, looking up in surprise.

“Hey stranger,” Jinx smirked down at you, nodding at your book,“Pretty impressive reading pace you’ve got there.”

“Jinx!” You stood, wrapping your arms around her, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Ekko is too, he’ll be here in a minute,” She told you as you settled into your seats, the room was busy now, “Were you on the waitlist?”

“Yeah, this class was a bitch to get into,” You frowned, then realized something, “Wait, how did you get in? You’re a sophomore this year right? This is an upperclassmen class.”

She laughed sheepishly, shrugging, “Ha, well you know, nepotism isn't always bad.”

“No way, Silco got you in? You lucky bitch,” You gasped, but were not surprised that her dad, who happened to be a well respected professor in the business program, had managed to get her into a higher level class.

“Yeah, and Ekko,” She pulled the rest of her things from her bag, blowing a strand of freshly dyed blue hair out of her face, “You should have told me, I could have gotten you in, too.”

“Sorry, friend nepotism didn’t cross my mind,” You laughed, waving at Ekko as he walked into the room, “I’ll keep it in mind for next time, though.”

“Always got your back, babe,” Jinx gave an over exaggerated smile, all teeth.

Ekko slid into the seat next to Jinx, setting a coffee cup down in front of her, “Hey, where were you last week?” He laughed, extended a fist out for you to bump.

“Still on the waitlist,” You laughed, pulling out your things as other students began to settle into their seats.

“Glad you're here,” He told you, “You wanna be part of our group right?”

“Yes please,” You said with exaggerated begging,“I was worried I’d have to join people I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason I drag him into every class I take,” Jinx laughed, jerking her thumb over to Ekko.

“Yeah, I’m sure the fact that I always give you my notes has nothing to do with it,” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She stuck her nose up in the air, giving him a side eye.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at them, their large personalities combined to make one big ball of loud and colorful and smart. You had spent a lot of your free time during your summer research with them. Jinx had convinced you to join their little band and you three terrorized the others with very loud and not so great music playing. You were excited to be in class with them. Looking around, though, you noticed that all the other groups consisted of at least three people, some of them even holding five.

“Are you guys a group of two?” You tilted your head, it would be odd for the Professor to let them do that in a class that seemed to be very group focused.

“What? Oh, no there’s three of us,” Ekko told you, “I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. It’s Jayce’s new roommate, Viktor. I don’t know why he isn’t here yet.”

You laughed, part of you still wondering if this was some insane joke that everyone was really really dedicated to, “Haven't met him, yet, but I’ve heard of him plenty of times.”

“Wasn’t he at the party on Friday?” Jinx asked, “He said Jayce had convinced him to go.”

“Jayce kept saying he was there, but I never ran into him,” You shrugged, “I’m still not convinced he’s real.”

“Yeah, you got us,” Jinx said, dead serious, “He isn’t real.”

“Wait what?” You side eyed her.

“Also we wrote gullible on the ceiling,” She rolled her eyes, you resisted the urge to look up, “Viktor is very real, I promise. He’s super smart too, like, almost as smart as me.”

“Always humble, babe,” Ekko said, patting Jinx on the arm, “Always humble.”

Class began then, Heimerdinger calling everyone's attention to the front of the room. You settled into the flow of it pretty quickly. You weren’t surprised that he managed to be an engaging professor. You’d sat through plenty of his speeches and presentations over the past two years, and never for a second did you find yourself bored during them. He gave a quick overview of what the next couple of weeks were going to look like and then passed around paper practice tests. You were a little disappointed to have to do another one.

This test ended up being somewhat easier than the one you had taken last night, only a few of the questions really escaped you. You could tell this was a test meant to gauge how much the class knew as opposed to how much they didn’t. You had just flipped to the last page when the door to the classroom opened. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes down and not contribute to the awkward stares you were sure everyone was already giving, instinct kicked in and you couldn't help but to glance up.

You froze.

There was no way.

This was not happening.

You blinked a few times, mouth hanging open as you watched Pretty Boy lean over Heimerdinger's desk, speaking too quiet for you to hear with an apology written all over his face. Your heart dropped all the way down to the center of the earth, your lungs dried out and you felt like your head was under waves.

When Pretty Boy turned around, his perfect amber eyes immediately landed on yours. Freezing, his eyes widened slightly in an expression you were sure was identical to yours. Poorly hidden horror. You looked away, eyes dropping to your paper, the grip around your pencil was tight enough to turn your knuckles white. You could hear him walking straight for your table, cane tapping along with his footsteps.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the table. Why was he coming this way? There were plenty of other seats. Was now the time to confront you? In the quietest classroom imaginable. He slid into the seat next to you.

“Hey Viktor,” Jinx whispered, glancing up before going back to her test.

Viktor. He was Viktor. Pretty Boy was the roommate you were convinced didn’t exist. The one you had just told Jinx you had never met. The reality that you had, in fact, met him very intimately was crashing down around you. You raced back through your memory, all the little dots that you should have connected immediately snapped together. The music he was listening to, the smoking, that he was even in the garage in the first place, the reason you hadn’t recognized him despite being in your year, the fact that you never saw him leave the house.

He fucking lived there. He was Jayce’s roommate. You had fucked Jayce’s roommate.

You could feel his eyes on the side of your face as these thoughts ran through your head. You looked up at him, his closeness making you dizzy, but not in a pleasant way like last time. His face was nearly blank, only the slightest pull to his eyebrows that didn’t give away any of his thoughts. You had never felt the desire to know what someone else was thinking, not really, not until this very moment.

Not knowing what to do, you let out a shaky breath and went back to your paper. The room was too quiet to speak to him, you could do nothing but endure the remaining time it took for everyone to finish their tests and hope you didn’t faint.

You were keenly aware of his presence next to you. Everything was taken up by Pretty Boy. By Viktor. You could feel the heat of his leg close to yours, you could smell the cologne he was wearing. The scratching of his pen as he started the test was the only sound you could hear. You felt like you were going crazy. At this moment you were sure you could have been committed to a state hospital. The words on the page blurred in front of you. You scribbled out incorrect equations a dozen times before Hiemerdinger finally concluded that everyone was done.

“I will review these and adjust our scheduled content accordingly,” He told the class as the tests were passed forward, “As an unplanned reward for enduring my data collection, please talk amongst yourselves while I battle with technology. I will begin today’s lesson as soon as possible.”

“Nice,” Jinx said to herself as chatter started up in the classroom, she turned to Pret- to Viktor, “Dude, where were you?”

“Sorry, I was stuck behind a school bus,” He told her, his accent was less thick than you remember, “it wasn’t a problem last week, I wasn’t prepared.”

“Oh, yeah, school just started this week for little kids,” She nodded, she was lost in thought for a moment, no doubt thinking about picking up Isha from school later. She snapped back to the present and told him your name, “She’s part of the larger group, I’m surprised you haven't met yet.”

His eyes met yours and when he said your name, you could have melted all the way to the ground floor, “It’s nice to meet you, are you…joining our group?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a hand out to you. You shook it, trying to be as firm as you could, but you knew your hands were shaking.

“Nice to meet you, too, ” You said, “Um, I can find another group if you-”

“No,” He said, too quickly, “No, that’s not necessary, I’m glad to have you work with us.”

You did your best not to read into that, “Glad to be here.”

“Heimerdinger wanted us to schedule an out of class work time,” Ekko told you, drawing your attention away from Viktor’s face, “We were thinking Friday’s right after class, since we won’t have lab.”

“That works for me,” You nodded, trying to settle into your chair and be casual.

“Cool, I’ll send a calendar invite,” He said, always the proactive one.

“You are friends with Jayce?” Viktor asked, tilting his head at you.

“Yep,” You nodded awkwardly, unsure how to talk to him, “Since freshman year,”

“Hm, interesting.” He mused.

You hated this. It was so uncomfortable and not at all like the last time you had spoken to him. Even aside from the fact that you weren’t fucking, the few words said were clunky and awkward. You were realizing that the drugs and alcohol you had consumed might have had something to do with the ease of conversation. It made you sad. You knew this was stupid. You knew you were being childish. You were an adult, sex shouldn’t be the cause of this unbearable awkwardness. You should be able to talk to someone you hooked up with, without being on the verge of a panic attack. Luckily, Heimerdinger’s technical difficulties came to an end. He drew back everyone's attention and put a halt to your terrible conversation. You turned away from Viktor, facing the front as the intro to advanced ochem lecture began.

The rest of class, thankfully, went smoother than you expected. Your group fell into a good rhythm, working together between bouts of notes to work on practice problems. Viktor was less tense, which let you relax a degree. He was more than willing to help you navigate your textbook, looking over your shoulder to check that you were on the right section. He even helped you find the reading for next class, tearing a piece of paper from his notebook and placing it in the pages. There wasn’t a lab planned for the day, so Heimerdinger continued his lecture well into the scheduled lab time. By the end of the four hours, you had written down almost ten pages of notes. Your hands ached.

“Apologies for the lecture heavy class, everyone. Having to cancel our first class last week meant I needed to catch everyone up” Heimerdinger said as he closed out the presentation, “I promise from here on we will utilize the last two hours as lab time. Have a good rest of your day everyone, I will see you on Wednesday.”

You scooped your things into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “I’ve gotta get to another class, see ya around.”

You darted out of the door before anyone could reply. Your head was filled with too many thoughts. You took the stairs down, doing your best to organize the mess in your brain. You created a list. First, the things you needed to do, right now. Finish the reading for Asian American Lit, number one. Number two, go to your Asian American Lit class. Then, the things that could wait until after. Telling Lest about Viktor/Pretty Boy dilemma. Though, she would be mad that you didn’t call her at that very moment. Asking Jinx to add you to the group chat, meaning you'd have his number. Yeah, that you could wait on. Then the things you decided could wait forever. Number one, talking to Viktor. It’s all you wanted to do. And at the same time you’d rather spontaneously combust than confront that awkward conversation.

You were free of the overpowering AC of the science building for less than a minute before the task you decided never needed to happen, happened. Against your will, of course.

“Wait up!” Your steps faltered for a second at the sound of Viktor’s voice calling after you. You ignored him, continuing as if you hadn’t heard. He shouted your name, “I know you can hear me!”

You stopped staring at the hot sidewalk for a moment. No. You had somewhere to be, things to do. You shook your head without turning around and kept walking.

“If you take one more step, you’re ableist!” He shouted, out of breath.

You froze and turned slowly to look at him, jaw hanging open, “That is not funny.”

“Got you to stop didn’t it,” He panted, closing the distance between you, he knocked his cane against the side of your calf, “And, I do believe running from a man with a cane can be considered ableist.”

“First of all, I am not running from you,” You lied, looking up at him. You stepped a half inch to the side, using his shadow to block your eyes from the sun, “And second, if I happened to be running from you, it certainly is not because you use a mobility aid.”

“Okay Miss PC,” He rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t matter why, if I deem it ableist, it is.”

You opened your mouth to argue, floundering for what to say. You don’t remember him being this infuriating at the party.

“Exactly,” He said as you snapped your jaw closed.

“Viktor,” You sighed, “What do you want?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head at you. He gave a soft laugh, “I have been waiting all weekend to hear you say my name.”

Breathing would have been easier if he punched you. You blinked up at him, watching him watch you.

“I’m sorry, can I…” He looked around, noticing that other students were leaving the building as their classes ended. You two were standing in the dead center of the sidewalk and in the late summer heat his pale cheeks were already turning pink, “Can we just talk for a second, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he stepped off the main path and began walking into the flower garden. The dry gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked, the sound amplified in your brain as you followed after him. He settled under a latticed arch, the honeysuckle vines that snaked around it shading you both from the midday sun.

“I’m sorry,” You said, frowning at him.

“For what?” He asked, face confused.

For running away. For not asking your name. For leaving. For joining your class.

“I don’t know.” Was all you could manage.

“You know, apologies lose a lot of their value if you don’t know what you're apologizing for,” He narrowed his eyes, voice almost scolding.

“I..I know, I’m sorry.”

“You say sorry too much,” He laughed, shaking his head, he didn’t look upset, “It’s very American of you.”

“Well, I am American,” You pointed out, letting yourself laugh softly with him, “I’m sorry for that too,” You joked.

“Well, let me apologize?” He asked, “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in class, it truly was not my intention.”

That was an apology. A real and true apology.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” You shook your head, “Fuck, if anyone had a right to feel weird, it was you.”

He tilted his head in question.

“I mean, it was your class first,” You told him, “I just kinda…showed up.”

“Did you join the class because I was in it?”

“Well, no,” You laughed softly, “How could I have, I didn't even know your name.”

“That’s true,” He scoffed, “I regret that, by the way, I should have asked your name. Not very polite to ask after having sex with someone.”

“Eh, it happens to the best of us,” You shrugged, liking the laugh he gave you in response.

“Well, I am glad I know now,” He told you, eyes moving across his face, he smirked, “It’s a pretty name.”

“Hm, thanks, I like yours quite a lot as well,” You smiled up at him, the step closer he took didn’t go unnoticed, “It suits you, almost as much as Pretty Boy.”

“Thank you,” He smiled down at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What?” You could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“Can I take you out?” He asked, taking a nervous breath, “I know we kinda did this in a backwards manner, but I…you are very interesting to me, I would like to take you out properly.”

Your stomach twisted. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

“No,” You said, head shaking slightly as you offered a sad smile. The unexpected hurt that flashed in his eyes killed you.

“Oh, um,” He stumbled over his words, clearly taken aback by your refusal, he tried to step away, “Okay.”

“Hey wait,” You reached out, grabbing his wrist before you could escape, “Listen, it’s not you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, begging you not to embarrass him any further with a cliche line.

“Really, I swear,” You urged, not letting go until he stepped back towards you, “I just… I don’t date classmates. I don’t sleep with classmates. Even if I want to. It causes problems, it makes class awkward, and I can’t risk my GPA just because I find someone attractive.”

He hummed to himself, nodding as he took in your words.

“So…” He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the same way he did when you were straddling his lap, “You’re saying you find me attractive?”

You resisted the urge to lean into his palm, instead you grabbed his wrist and pulled his lingering hand away from your face, “Don’t do that.”

“I’m confused, you’ve already slept with me? So what does it matter?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was so fucking handsome you wanted to scream.

“Because, at the time, we weren’t classmates.” You explained like it was obvious.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, you will be in a relationship - sexual or romantic - with someone as long as they aren't an active classmate?” He asked, lip curling up in confusion, “But if they were a past classmate, or in our case, a future classmate, it's fine?”

“Exactly,” You shrugged, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“That’s actually very unreasonable.” He told you, “And also does not make much sense to me.”

“Well, good thing it’s a rule for myself.” You huffed, “You don’t have to understand, you just have to respect it.”

“So, if we were in separate classes, would you go out with me?” He asked.

“Probably, yes.” You admitted.

“But not now, because we are in the same class.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, if I ask you when the class is over, you’d say yes?” He leaned towards you, probing.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, “Who’s to say you won’t hate me by the end of the semester?”

“Well, considering you seem to be friends with the only people I know at this school, that would be rather unfortunate.” His voice lowered at the end, he was closer to you know. Very much within kissing distance. Right now there was nothing more you wanted than to feel his lips against yours. You know they’d be cool in comparison to the stagnant summer air.

You didn’t. Instead, you took a step back, and shoved your hand out into the distance between you, “Friends and classmates? Can you do that?” You asked, he studied your hand like the offer was written on it, then sighed.

“Fine, I can respect your rules,” He took your hand in his, firm and strong and cold, “Friends and classmates…for now.”

He moved his index finger softly across the inside of your wrist as he held your hand, goosebumps sprinting up your arm. You carried that feeling with you for the rest of the day.

82 notes · View notes

jburrgf · 7 months ago

Text

Prudence Girl.

We could stay alone, you and me and this temptation, sipping on your lips hanging on by thread.

pairing: joe burrow lsu x reader (becoming enemies to lovers)

summary: after a year at LSU, your best friend finally convinces you apply to be a prudence girl.

description: college life, frat party, kiss

—————————————————————

It was a relief to be far from home. From Ohio in general.

Now, I have to put up with my best friend, Tracy Evans, rambling about the fraternity and sorority homecoming at LSU and how much she’d love to be part of Prudence.

Prudence, by the way, is a sorority mostly run by a clique of cheerleaders. They all live in a huge house, practically Republican HQ, where they throw parties almost every week.

I find it cosmic and weird that the name is also a condom brand. But hey, no judgments here.

“We have to go, y/n.” Tracy grabs my shoulders, shaking them. “We can’t miss this!”

“Freshmen can’t miss it, and we’re not freshmen,” I say, winking at her. “At least, not technically. I still feel like one, tho.”

Tracy rolls her green eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, y/n. It’s not just freshmen who can’t skip out. Prudence pledges can’t either.”

“And why does that matter to us?” I ask, frowning.

“Because, my dear, if we pass tonight’s initiation, we’ll be Prudence pledges,” she says, winking as my jaw slowly drops. “I signed us both up.”

“You what?” I get up from my chair, furious. “If you want to be a Prudence Girl, Tracy, go ahead, but don’t drag me into it!”

Tracy rolls her eyes again. “Don’t be dramatic,” she says, stroking my cheek. “You don’t have to go through initiation if you don’t want to, or even join Prudence. I just want your company, you know, moral support and stuff.”

With her puppy-dog eyes on me, it was impossible to refuse. Sighing heavily, I nodded.

“You owe me, Tracy Evans!” I growl, grabbing my black jacket and throwing it over a white T-shirt that says, “Don’t look at my tits, perv” as I leave the room.

I walked across the dorm with a scowl on my face. Sure, it’s good to be away from home, but it’s not like Cincinatti is a paradise. It’s not even close.

“Hey, y/LN!” I turned my head to the left, where Alyssa Powell was calling me. “Love the shirt.”

I roll my eyes with a faint smile. “What’s up, Powell?”

Me and Alyssa knew each other from the hallways of LSU. She wasn't like a friend of mine, but she was cool to talk to.

“I need ya’ help, y/n,” she says, biting her lip. “You know I don’t get along with Abby Griffin, right?”

“I think the whole campus knows, after she grabbed the principal’s megaphone and announced she’d make your life hell.” Aly grins at the memory. “Go on.”

“I need a reason to stay in Prudence,” she continues. “And a great reason would be to mentor a pledge during initiation. And I saw your name on the list…”

Oh, no.

“Aly… Look, you’re awesome, smart, funny…extraordinary!” Aly smiles, blushing. “But no way.”

“Why not?” She pouts. Oh boy, here come the sad faces again.

“Because I have zero interest in being part of Prudence,” I reply, tucking a strand of curls behind her ear. “Mentor Tracy. She really wants to join you guys.”

Aly sighs. “She already has a mentor,” she says, her voice pleading. “Abby made sure every pledge had one before I could even consider it. I’m surprised you don’t have one yet.”

“Oh, that’s simple. I hate every Prudence Girl,” I say, shrugging. “Including you. But I hate you with love, you know?”

I watch Alyssa laugh, throwing her head back.

“Y/n, look, I wouldn’t be here begging if it wasn’t important,” she says, grabbing my hands. “My mom graduated as a Prudence Girl, so did my aunt, and my older sister. It’s a family thing, you know? I can’t screw it up just because the leader hates me for sleeping with Joe.”

“Wait, what?”

I had no idea about it. Fresh gossip, I guess?

Joe Burrow was the new sensation on campus for the last six months. He was QB1 from the LSU Tigers and didn't lose any games in the regular season — at least not until now. I didn't know that guy very well, and honestly, I like it that way. I'm not into jocks, especially the ones with massive egos.

“Yeah. She doesn’t like me because I hooked up with her boyfriend once, that’s all,” she says, shrugging. “Please, y/n…”

I stare into her brown eyes, at her wild curls and clothes far too bold for a university.

“Okay. On one condition,” I say, watching her smile grow wider and wider.

“Anything!”

“I want a room with Tracy, just the two of us. That, or no deal!” I cross my arms.

“Deal!”

[…]

When I return to my dorm, Tracy is there, jumping around to an ‘80s song, dressed in pink leggings, a black crop top, leg warmers, and a headband holding back her blonde hair. She looked ridiculous. Ridiculously beautiful.

“What the hell are you doing, Evans?” I ask, climbing the bunk bed ladder. If joining Prudence means having my own bed on the floor, it might be worth it.

“Aerobics,” she says, smiling. “I do it every day after class for two hours. It’s exhausting, but it works.”.

“You should try it.”

“No thanks. I prefer my soft butt,” I say sarcastically. “Oh, by the way, I’m doing the initiation and becoming a Prudence Girl.”

“What? Why?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be happy?” I frown.

“I am, of course I am,” she smiles. “But why? You were so set against it this morning.”

I sigh. “Alyssa Powell asked me,” I shrug. “If she’s not my mentor, Abby Griffin will kick her out of Prudence.”

.“Remind me to thank her later.”

I lay back on my pillow, thinking about what it would be like to share a house with dozens of girls. Rent is $100, slightly less than the dorm, but that’s not reason enough to join a sorority.

“How does this initiation work, anyway?” I ask.

“It’s really simple, almost childish,” she says, rolling her eyes. “The guys eat or drink something, then kiss us. If we guess what it was, we’re in.”

“Seriously? That’s it?”

“Almost childish, like I said,” she grins.

Then it hits me. “Wait! Guys? What guys?”

“What other guys, silly? Prudence Girls kiss Prudence Boys,” Tracy bites her lip. “I can’t wait to kiss one of them.”

I rub my face with both hands, already regretting agreeing to this mess.

“I bet you can’t.”

[…]

Prudence House was packed, full of students. Nobody cared that it was the initiation for the new Prudence pledges because it was one of the most anticipated parties of the year—alongside the Prudence fraternity’s homecoming, the Kappa farewell, and the random Acacia parties, all of them Republican houses.

Tracy made me wear one of her dresses, shorter and tighter than I had imagined. My best friend did my makeup and hair, not because I can’t get ready on my own, but because I take forever doing it.

In just an hour, I was perfectly ready, waiting for the campus lights to go out and the pink lights of the Prudence sorority, in the back street, to take over. The house was ridiculously large—after all, it housed almost thirty girls—with many rooms, many bathrooms, and a huge party hall. It was in this hall that I stopped to observe the beige walls.

“Stop looking at things like that, you look like a child,” Tracy murmured, elbowing me.

“Sorry, mom,” I teased, hiding a smile. “This place feels like a museum.”

Tracy didn’t respond, maybe because she agreed or maybe because Abby Griffin was making her way toward us, looking determined.

Abby Griffin was the type of girl with queen bee energy. And she really was, technically. For the past two years, she was the “Prudence Queen”. I never knew how we became friends — actually, I didn’t even have the idea that she knew who I was.

“Y/n y/ln, I presume,” she said, eyeing me with superiority. “Alyssa’s new recruit.”

“In the flesh,” I smiled at her.

“The initiation will start shortly, in the backyard. If you're late, you’re out.” I could see in her eyes she wanted to add "along with Alyssa," but she held back.

“We’ll be there.”

Tracy squeezed my hand and pulled me outside in a matter of seconds, making me roll my eyes dramatically.

When we arrived outside, a line of women stretched across the lawn, their nervous and anxious faces clearly marking them as potential pledges. Everything would depend on a stupid kiss from a guy.

Alyssa found me when I got to the end of the line; including Tracy and me, there were twelve of us, the maximum number allowed per semester. Aly smiled and held my hands.

“Your room is already reserved,” she whispered. Aly glanced around, checking the area before leaning in to whisper, “Coffee candy and mint gum.” To disguise her words, Aly gave me a quick peck. “See you later, Prudence Girl.”

I held back the urge to groan that "Prudence Girl" and "Prudence Boy" sounded like names for a girl group and boy band—and they also actively reminded me of condoms, of course. I could make that joke later, after surviving the initiation just because a fling had kindly asked me to.

Tracy watched us with a smile; a nod from her confirmed she had heard what Aly said.

I would call this cheating if I cared about this whole mess.

“Welcome, everyone—brothers, sisters, pledges, and nosy students,” Abby Griffin began, silencing the crowd. “Tonight, we’ll be welcoming our new sisters—those who, of course, pass the initiation.”

Tracy squeezed my hand. Sneaky little thing.

“The initiation is as follows: we have a dozen Prudence Boys here, but you won’t see them until after you've kissed them.” At that, each mentor handed their pledge a black blindfold and placed it over our eyes. “Each guy has tasted something different—maybe a strawberry, maybe whipped cream, maybe vodka... Your job, during the kiss, is to figure out what was in his mouth before he kissed you. Good luck.”

Apparently, a line of twelve boys stood in front of us, aligned like we were. But we wouldn’t be kissed all at once.

I had to endure the sounds of sloppy kisses for several long minutes, along with guesses of foods or drinks—all of them correct.

Tracy squeezed my hand one last time before letting go.

It was her turn.

More kissing sounds, longer than usual. I rolled my eyes beneath the blindfold.

“Coffee candy!” Tracy shouted, earning applause and cheers.

Now it was my turn.

I felt the approach of someone who smelled of cheap cologne and sweat, and I automatically grimaced. This was clearly Abby’s doing.

But before the guy could mess up my night, a voice stopped him.

“Step aside, Oliver.” The body heat from the boy faded as he stepped away, and someone else approached. This one smelled of Dior Savage and coconut shampoo, and I honestly like it more. “She deserves someone better.”

“And you’re that someone better, Burrow?” Oliver, I assumed, yelled.

There was no response. Instead, soft lips covered mine, kissing me gently, while a hand slid to my neck, holding me in place, at his mercy.

An overwhelming sense of déjà vu hit me.

But his mouth didn’t taste like mint gum. Oliver surely would have, but this intruder had interfered.

I didn’t know whether to thank him for sparing me from the sweaty guy or curse him for confusing my mind.

I was still being kissed. His lips pressed lovingly against mine, and at the end of that affectionate wildness, three soft pecks were left as his hand released my neck.

Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap.

The once-noisy crowd had gone completely silent. Not a single person was saying anything.

Nothing. Not even a whisper.

I focused on the taste left in my mouth, where his tongue had roamed freely.

“What the hell was that, Burrow?” Abby yelled, probably storming toward us.

I didn’t dare remove my blindfold, afraid of what I’d see. Of who I’d see.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss her!” Abby continued.

Someone leaned toward me, and from the scent, it was him again.

“Do you have a boyfriend, darling?” he asked with the sweetest voice he could do it.

“No.”

“Then yes, I can kiss you.” I pressed my lips together as they argued.

“No, you can’t! You took Olly’s place!” Abby shouted back.

I cleared my throat, embarrassed.

“Chocolate,” I suddenly said, silencing them. “You ate chocolate before...”

A soft gasp escaped the boy, low and pleading, before his mouth claimed mine again.

Oh my God...

“Joseph Burrow!” Abby shrieked, furious, while the boy ignored her completely, more interested in caressing my lips with his own.

Damn, this feels so good!

A strand of my hair was tucked behind my ear as my lips were reluctantly released.

“Congratulations, Ohio girl. You’re a Prudence Girl now.”

I felt like I could faint at any moment, but I didn’t remove the blindfold, because I knew who I’d see if I did, and I wasn’t ready for that.

#joeburrow #joey burrow #joe shiesty #nfl #cincinnati bengals #joseph lee burrow #nfl imagine #Spotify

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g0kotta · 2 years ago

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Almost

There was always an almost with you and Geto.

Geto x f!reader. Mentions of death. This is fluff to angst. Spoilers for JJK!

Almost holding his hand.

The first year of Jujutsu Tech was interesting to say the least. Getting out of your comfort zone and meeting new people you would spend a lifetime with. It was all so sudden. You left your clan, your family behind and started a new life there.

Though after a while you managed to settle down. Your three classmates Shoko, Gojo and Geto were nice to be with. Shoko was calmer than the two and you formed a nice friendship with her faster than with them. She was there from day one, with a friendly smile on her face and a cigarette hanging between her lips.

The smell of cigarettes felt calming after a while. You always knew it was her walking around the corner and it felt comforting.

Geto and Gojo became your good friends a bit later on in the first year. As douchey as they were they understood that you needed time to feel comfortable around them and they respected that. They gave you personal space until you started talking with them more, going on missions together and coming back with tears in your eyes from all of the laughter.

It felt good. In those moments you almost forgot how much you actually missed home. Soon enough these three people became your second family.

And now as you lay on the grassy field at 3AM with Geto next to you, it feels right.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He turns his face to look at you. And as you do the same you think how angelic he truly looked. He was the opposite from Gojo, who had plenty of girls following him around and feeding into his already big ego, but you never really understood why. In your eyes Geto was the best looking guy you’ve seen. His now messy hair is free from the hair tie that always keeps his hair in place. It falls on his face framing it in a way that makes him look like a painting. His dark eyes meet yours as he awaits for your answer.

“Mhm..” you hum and give him a soft smile. “It’s a rough night.” you whisper. “The mission today sucked out my energy, but I just can’t stop thinking about the kids who died in front of our eyes. We almost saved them..” a frown etches onto your face as you sigh. “When I close my eyes that’s all I see.”

Geto shuffles closer to you and your hands touch.

“It’s not your fault.” He calmly states. “It’s life, (L/N). We’re trying to make it better, but you have to remember that we can’t save everyone.”

His hand tries to reach your palm, hold it in his bigger one, but before he can do that..

“Hey, guys!” Gojo’s annoying voice screeches. “You should’ve told me you’re having a slumber party or something.”

When he almost asked you out.

Geto was pacing around his dorm room. His hair is in a messy bun, he’s slightly irritated and you can tell by the way his eyebrows are slightly arched. He has a mean look on him and Gojo is confused as he has never seen his friend like that.

At first the white haired male doesn’t want to interfere as his friend looked out of it. ‘It’s like his whole family died’ he thinks as he keeps staring at Geto.

“Just calm down.” Gojo grins. “I’m sure everything will be fine. She likes you back for sure, dude. The way she looks at you? Like you hung the moon and the stars. Just believe in yourself, Suguru.”

“You don’t understand, Satoru. She’s different. I don’t want to ruin whatever we have.” His pace becomes faster. “I really care about her. I want her in my future. But what if she doesn’t see me like that? I can’t imagine losing her.” He frowns.

Gojo groans and stands up from Geto’s bed. He walks up to his friend and puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it in reassurance.

“She likes you. You just have to calm down.” Gojo smiles warmly at his friend, supporting him. “I can see it with all of my eyes.”

Geto hits Gojo’s shoulder and both of them laugh. It doesn’t feel tense anymore.

Though no matter how long Gojo stayed in his room, Geto never got the courage to ask you out. Especially not after he saw you through his window. Laughing at what Nanami said.

When he almost kissed you.

“Ugh.” Geto groans as he looks at his notepad, slowly losing his hope to understand the subject. “This is bullshit.” He throws the pen on the table and rubs his eyes in frustration.

“You think?” You sarcastically roll your eyes while trying to comprehend what you were even reading right now.

“We’re failing this, (L/N).” He sighs and closes his notepad, putting it back in his bag. “I’m done with this. I don’t care anymore. Literally could give less of a shit.”

“I get it.” You smirk and stretch also giving up on understanding the topic of math. “It’s like this isn’t even real. Who created this theory?”

Geto stands up from the chair that he was sitting on and walks towards where you were seated on the carpet in the middle of your dorm room.

“Wanna do something else?” He raises a brow. “Like.. Watch a movie?”

“I don’t have any new ones.” You answer him quickly. “Unless you want to rewatch the same old five cassette tapes I have.” You say already knowing his answer. He lets out a huff and falls into your bed groaning mumbling something about how boring it is.

You grin and stand up shuffling towards the bed and fall onto his body and he gasps as he feels the weight of someone else’s body on top of his. He starts whining and you start laughing. The room erupts with noises as he starts an argument that you’re not even participating in. It feels fresh. It feels like spring when nature is reborn again. It feels warm and inviting.

As the laughs die down you to lay next to each other, looking at each other’s faces and studying them. He smiles at you softly noticing how your cheeks are dusted in pink. He reaches out and softly, as if you were made out of glass, he follows your features with his thumb. As if he was trying to remember how your face felt. It felt like he was an artist and you were the art.

He let’s out a noice of satisfaction and his grin gets bigger. He slowly starts to inch towards your face. You look into his eyes, feeling like your heart will soon jump out of your chest. Your lips are millimetres apart, but before they can collide, loud noises can be heard from the outside.

You two jump off of the bed in a rush.

Someone was attacking Jujutsu Tech.

When he almost..

Your heart is breaking. It was stupid. So so stupid. Your hands reach into your hair and you swear you could pull everything out. Your skin felt itchy and your stomach felt like it had butterflies trying to dig their way out.

It was crushing you. Your whole life you knew and had fell apart in a few hours. As you laid in your bed, holding yourself, trying to keep yourself from falling apart, your window opens.

You don’t even need to lift your head up to know who it was.

“I’m sorry.” Were the first words you heard. “I wish things could be different.” He keeps on talking, while you stay quiet. Only broken sobs were heard from your laying body. “In another life we will be married and raising five children.” Suguru laughs bitterly, walking up to your bed. He sits down next to you and takes you in his arms. He wipes away your tears. "But the world we live in now, isn’t so kind to people like us."

“Five kids with you doesn’t sound so bad..” you whisper in tears “I hope that’s true.. And that in another lifetime things are different.”

Suguru lets out a soft chuckle, looking into your eyes. “Of course it’s true. I’m sure one of them will look just like me.” He gives you a warm embrace, feeling your tears on his chest. “Please don’t cry (Y/N), you’re making my heart ache.”

“You’re the one to say that.” Your voice breaks. “Why.. why are you choosing that path?”

“(Y/N)..” he hugs you tightly as if he always wants to remember the feeling of you laying on his chest. “Our paths are way too different. I’m sure you’ll find all of the answers on your own.” He smiles. “I can’t stay for long. They’re looking for me already.” Suguru leans in and for the first time your lips touch. Though rather than giving you joy it felt like he was taking everything away from you. It was melodramatic. He came to say goodbye and took your heart with him. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and before you can do anything, he leaves. And as you lay in bed you realised that not only did he take your heart he also took away the warmth of summer and spring and left you alone with the coldness of winter.

As he leaves the grounds of Jujutsu Tech he stops for a second and looks back. With a sigh he turns around and leaves.

When he almost stayed.

#geto fluff #geto angst #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #jjk spoilers #jjk x reader #jjk imagines

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dreamofbona · 2 years ago

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enhypen as fathers - hyung line

summary: a collection of thoughts on each of hyung line being fathers

note: implied relationship between enha and the reader. i wrote it so the reader can have any pronouns, so i hope all engenes feel like they can read this!

warnings: none?

word count: 1.2 k

HEESEUNG enjoys playing more than the kids. He’s the one who asks for five more minutes to play cars or build Legos. He’s a true child at heart, especially at home where he doesn’t have to worry about the members.

HEESEUNG also passes on his love for music - singing lullabies, humming on long car rides, taking the kids to concerts (both his and others’). He loves his family karaoke nights, and loves hearing the kids sing or play instruments, always encouraging them and supporting them.

HEESEUNG always makes time for the kids. Think working from home if he’s writing music, or making “take your kid to work day” a regular thing. He loves taking them to the studio, teaching them what buttons to push, and letting them mess around with recording on the mic.

HEESEUNG thinks he’s an excellent father, citing past experience “raising Niki” (who he refuses to let babysit but that’s another story), and even though you like to joke that he isn’t, you can’t help but agree. He’s a model father, and you think the kids are so lucky to have him.

HEESEUNG refuses to let the ENHYPEN members babysit (with the exception of JAY) - some have messed up in the past, and others were never trusted from the beginning.

(jungwon didn’t put the kids to sleep because he wanted to stay up; sunoo got distracted with the good lighting in the kitchen; niki was playing violent video games; sunghoon and jake were never trusted to begin with)

HEESEUNG goes all out for all the holidays - he’ll dress up as Santa, and comes up with the most elaborate Halloween costumes. He loves doing themed costumes with the family as well.

JAY has always wanted to be a father. Growing up an only child, he’d always wanted multiple kids, so they could have the close sibling bond he’d always craved.

JAY is usually a mature adult, but not when the kids are fighting. You think he enjoys watching them argue, calling each other silly insults - “farthead”, “butthole”. He never bothers breaking up their fights - “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” - and instead tries to get you to bet with him on who’ll win tonight’s argument. You’re interested to see what he says when they get older and start swearing.

JAY insists on family cooking nights at least once a week. He enjoys teaching the kids to cook, and cooking with them. He also hardcore judges them for their interesting choices when it comes to pizza toppings.

JAY loves cooking for the kids as well. If you can’t find him, you know he’ll be in the kitchen, working on a meal or a snack or dessert. You love the smile on his face when the kids take a freshly baked cookie and tell him it’s great - his eyes crinkle up and his grin is bright and he looks like he just won the lottery.

JAY also loves tucking the kids in - he’ll read them stories, sing them lullabies, strum on his guitar before wishing them a good night.

(you’re thankful for that as well because jay’s usually the one they wake up if they have nightmares - you get to carry on with your beauty sleep)

JAY loves getting gifts for the kids so much that it’s a problem. You argue with him on this all the time - “they’re 5, jay, they don’t need designer”. He’ll just respond with “I can’t help myself, Prada has such cute outfits”. He insists on making sure the kids are dressed well, and you can’t help but smile at how cute it is to see Jay acting like their stylist.

JAKE balances his roles of “father” and “friend” really well. He’s extremely playful - always ready to play-fight or build Legos or have a tea party - but won’t hesitate to switch to “dad-mode” should a fight break out or a bad word be said. He’s still sweet though - “don’t repeat that word again sweetie”.

JAKE is the kids’ number one fan (you and him argue over that title all the time). No matter how busy he is, he’s always cheering them on, whether it be a soccer match or a dance recital.

(he’s “gotten sick” on several content-shooting days just to jump up and down at a sports game)

JAKE wants the kids to explore so they can find their passions. He introduces them to soccer, singing, violin, but doesn’t hold them to it - “they were my passions, so i think you should look into them, but they don’t have to be yours too”. He’s more than happy to cheer them on for basketball or trumpet as well.

JAKE loves going for family walks. Jake, you, the kids, and the family dog, strolling around the neighborhood on a nice day. Jake will challenge the kids to naming different types of clouds, and he’ll throw back his head and laugh when they come up with ridiculous names.

JAKE is the most supportive person ever, and you think that the kids are so lucky to have him. He understands how important it is to have supportive parents, considering his journey to becoming an idol, so he always supports you and the kids in everything you do - trying out a new activity, taking a challenging class, having a long day at work. He’s always there for his family.

JAKE becomes more confident after becoming a father as well. You think he was a little insecure about his voice before - “I wish I sounded like Heeseung hyung” he’s said on more than one occasion - but the kids (and you) are enamored with his voice, always insisting that he sing on long car rides and before going to sleep.

SUNGHOON loves taking the kids skating. In the winter, he’ll regularly take them to the local ice rink, and teach them to skate. He abandons his fancy twists and jumps, opting rather to hold his kids’ hands, and teach them how to glide across the ice.

SUNGHOON is a constant, steadying force in the family. He’s not always talking, but you and the kids always know he’s there for you. At dinner, he’ll sit quietly, listening carefully as the kids recount their days at school, smiling at the fun parts, and threatening violence when he hears about mean kids or annoying teachers.

SUNGHOON insists on family dance battles. Some nights after dinner, he’ll have everyone gather in the den, and start playing music. He always looks so happy just to be doing something fun with the people he loves.

SUNGHOON is very cheesy in that he loves the “typical family things”. He insists on nice photoshoots for greeting cards during the holidays - he’ll book a date, buy coordinating outfits. He’s also a sucker for the traditional family road trip, beach day, ski trip.

SUNGHOON is so sweet on those previously mentioned ski trips. He’ll hold everyone's hands on the chairlifts, making sure everyone feels comfortable. He’s more than happy to help you and the kids get down the mountain, and won’t hesitate to wipe out on purpose to make you and the kids smile.

SUNGHOON is also the kind of guy who will regularly quote Lilo and Stitch - “Ohana means family, and family means that no one gets left behind.” He’s really sweet, and cheesy, and you and the kids love him for that.

#hyung line as fathers #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen hyung line #enhypen fluff #heeseung #heeseung x reader #jay #jay x reader #jake #jake x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader

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simslegacy5083 · 6 months ago

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Today's (10/29/2024) Episode: Wholesome Morning Fun

Luigi and Noemi had successfully launched Watcher Tales right before their originally planned New Year’s Eve release date.

With that deadline off their backs, the family was able to relax and enjoy the holiday in style. In honor of all the relatives who had helped with his game launch, Luigi orchestrated a charity stream at the local gaming center, raising money for the family's foundation for at risk youth.

They kicked things off early in the morning, gathering a group of sims to participate in a timed Watcher Tales build challenge.

“You’ve got 2 hours to create a rockin’ party venue” Luigi told them “I’ll be checking in throughout on your progress, and at the end we’ll take turns touring all your creations, while our online viewers vote on their favorite. Good luck everyone!”

The winning build wound up being a futuristic nightclub lot, designed by the foundation’s volunteer computer science tutor, Mauricio.

Luigi had known this fellow computer lover since their teen years, when he’d been captain of Copperdale High’s computer club. The now much more mellow sim had put his interest in technology to good use both at the foundation and as a teacher at their old alma mater.

“I love your game, and so do my students.” he told Luigi when he came over to offer his congratulations. “The logic and data puzzles you added to the gearhead career are genius. It’s a fun way for kids to learn some of the basics of programming and I’m excited to work it into my lesson plans.”

As the attendees enjoyed placing their creations into their game worlds, Luigi was setting up breakfast with Grandpa Don and his friend Anderson.

“Anderson, this is Lalani. She wants to open her own catering business someday and today she’ll be helping you prepare your famous waffles for our event. Meanwhile, our volunteer Bradley here will be helping Don prepare drinks for all our guests. Nothing too potent now, he’s still a teen!”

“Brunch will be served shortly” he hollered to the crowd. “In the meantime, feel free to enjoy any of the fun activities we’ve setup throughout the center and thank you again for coming out to support this great cause!”

While Luigi was busy hosting the event and gathering footage for the foundations future promotions his son was unloading his most recent woes onto his friend Elyse “…then a clown with pliers started yanking out my teeth. It was awful! That wasn’t just a dream either…” he finished with a sigh “A bunch of my baby teeth are loose, and I hate how they’re all wiggly in my mouth. Daddy said I could just pull them out but I’m afraid to.”

“I totally get it” Elyse replied “I have nightmares too, and losing teeth is the worst! I yank mine to make sure I don’t swallow any in my sleep!”

“Oh, I don’t want to swallow them” Skye whimpered, more scared than ever, just in time for Bruce to jump into the conversation.

“I heard when you swallow a tooth it stays in your stomach for SEVEN YEARS!” their feisty friend grinned evilly at Skye’s horrified expression. “Now quite your bellyaching and come upstairs so I can kick your butts on this HUGE Space Invaders arcade game I found!”

After the meal Noemi gathered the children and teens for a little programming workshop. “Today I’ll show you how to program a simple music player and synthesizer so you can make your own tunes. I’ll also show you how to add your music tracks to Watcher Tales so you can hear them in game!”

Luigi filmed the kids working on their players, providing tips and tricks as he went. The sight of his friends, relatives, and the at-risk kids playing and learning together warmed his heart and made him proud of the good work the foundation was doing to help sims who might otherwise fall through the cracks.

Checking the donation counter Lugi was excited to see they’d already raised a healthy sum, and the day was just getting started!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

#sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims4 #sims 4 nsb #sims 4 not so berry #sims4nsbstraud #sims 4 let's play #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 lets play

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aboutdifferentthings · 2 years ago

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Jess and Rory are no jerk and no failure and they got together.

I just read too many things about Jess being a jerk and about Rory being a failure that I could not take it anymore and I know I am late to the party but I was not sure I wanted to watch the revival or seasons four to seven. I have only been able to watch it because I saw a post with Jess looking Rory through a window and just thought, ey, they meet again, they are together. And here I am. I will just let it out.

When we meet Jess in season two he is a seventeen years old, an adolescent no one believes in. No one. I love season two: Jess and Rory have all these beautiful moments and he makes me laugh so much, they both do. But if you listen carefully you understand what kind of life Jess has been having and how he feels about it. I won’t defend every decision Jess made but the conversation with Rory in the car is so meaningful: “Ask my mother, principal or even your mother who does not even know me” no one, absolutely no one expects anything from him. The principal in school tells Luke he has no interest in the subjects, other students or anything else and if you think about it, it makes sense: he has grown up probably by himself, no one really took care of him so he found refuge in his books and sarcasm. He needs really loud music to sleep, probably not to hear whatever was going on at home. He is not good with the small talk because he is use to be by his own and once again: he is seventeen, can we not forget this? In fact I find he has quite a lot self control sometimes (specially in 2x05) but that would take too long to elaborate here.

And Rory is just so sweet. The only one able to connect with him, and to realize the potential he has got. I love how she tries to fight against this general opinion against Jess, she is the best. The problem with Rory is that she has been living in a bubble where she is perfection and she thinks she needs to keep it like that and this is really difficult to break. All these feelings she is having, she is constantly doubting them because no one is able to validate them. To tell her, ey, it is normal, tell me about Jess, why is he so interesting? Instead of that her mother and best friend is constantly acting like if she was going crazy for becoming friends with him and risking his relationship with Dean (do not get me started with him…) From minute one, she is so unfair with them that it really hurts. Lorelai is really unbearable in relation to Jess).

It is just specially painful to see that even when they are wonderful together they drift apart because they both have issues they need to work on. They could have done it together but in order to do that they would have need some adult support and they do not have it (Jess not at all and Rory not in the way she needs it). And I do not want to be unfair with Luke, he is a good soul, he tries… Jess understands it years later but at that moment it does not feel like real support, and it is not.

Jess gets lost and he hurts her deeply because she will never be able to find that level of connection again and she is so afraid of suffering again the same way that she would never go for it.

When Jess comes back in season four he his still not ready. I could write an essay about how he is right in a lot of the things he says and feels but he does not know how to articulate them. Rory loves him, she does and she always will but she is still hurting. He does not apologize, he does not tell her why even feeling what he feels. he did what he did. On both occasions he just drops the bomb and leaves ( I think second one happens mainly because Dean was there. He would probably have said something different in other circumstances) And it breaks my heart. Rory needed an I am sorry I hurt you, an explanation of why she was abandoned and the reassurance it will not happen again. She needed to hear an ‘I will wait for you no matter how long and no matter where’ He may had the intention to say it but he can’t deliver it because he is not ready yet: he has too much unresolved trauma and seeing Dean just brings everything out.

So she gets in this absurd relationships with Dean and Logan (the worst, absolutely the worst, no doubt) . When the bubble breaks she is just not able to navigate through life.

And life goes by, it turns out Jess finds himself. Jess finally starts believing in himself. He is resilient and he has held onto the feeling he could do anything he wanted Rory had about him. He could not have written the book without her because he has held onto his love for her and doing so he wrote a book, got it published and pushed through life the same way he always has. He has found people that get him and he gets to be in a good place. He has matured.

Next two times he sees Rory, he is in the position to say it, to offer her everything to really start a beautiful life together. He has put his pieces together, he is calm and happy with what he is doing. But guess what, Rory is a mess. And it is ok, it is totally believable. Sometimes in life, things don’t go as we want and you are a mess and you throw everything away and you just let it go. Jess just helps her to go back ( partially) on her feet. . He doesn’t try to win her back because he understands it is not the right moment. He is ready, she is not. And she tells him she loves Logan ( Logan of all: the one he has nothing in common with, the one that cheats on her, the one who does not care if she leaves Yale or anything she does, the kind of guy they made fun of) because to ‘love’ Logan is easier, because if she does not have the deep connection, it won’t hurt that much and it doesn’t. She finally rejects his proposal and he leaves and she is fine, it does not hurt that much because it was not real love. He is not her soul mate. He will never be.

And now they are both 32 and Jess has grown better and better. Although we do not get to know a lot about his relationships he has nothing permanent. He could have found love, we could have seen him happy. That also happens in real life. You really move on, you are lucky enough to have a mature fulfilling relationship and live a happy life but he does not. Jess had a lot things going on in his life but he has never cheated on anyone or lied to himself about his feelings, so probably just casual relationships without attachment because he knows it would not work, he is not over her.

The thing is that she is still having issues. Awful relationships she knows are not going anywhere and same thing with jobs. She has lost contact with her feelings and her passions and when that happens it is not easy to go on. But guess who is going to put her in contact with her feelings again. He does. Starting with the book. And when she goes on writing, well that will make her remember how it was to feel real love. And well yeah, we have an open ending, which is not my favorite but I get to write my own ending and to play it in my head. Because that look through the window, that happiness when she showed him the three chapters, that is a lot. And they will need to talk about feelings, about wounds and also about books and about the future because now they are ready to heal and to start over no matter where. Together.

#jess mariano #literati #jess x rory #rory x jess #team jess

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declinlalune · 2 years ago

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Onward and Upward || Andy & Arden

TIMING: early june. LOCATION: downtown / harborside. PARTIES: @stainedglasstruth & @declinlalune SUMMARY: double a run into one another and decide to go on a picnic! CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

With pride celebrations underway, the bakery had been a little more busy than usual. The street just outside the shop was busy with constant foot traffic, and while Andy typically liked the way being in a rush felt, the day had been tiresome. She had the day off, but she still went in to support, grabbing a few different loaves of bread and a box of bear claws. Distracted as she was leaving thanks to the slew of people, she barely registered running right into Arden. Her shoulder connected with the other woman’s and the box of baked goods nearly flew from her hands.

“Oh, shit.” She steadied the other woman, holding the pink box close to her chest. “You okay?” She looked down at the woman’s feet to make sure she hadn’t twisted an ankle or anything. Andy looked up to meet her gaze and she smiled. “Hey, it’s been awhile.” It’d only been a few weeks, and though she hadn’t known Arden then, there was something about watching somebody be so vulnerable on a small stage. She still remembered the way that Arden’s poem had made her feel. A little empty, maybe, and hopeful, too. “How’ve you been?”

—

It had been an interesting couple of weeks for Arden. First, Nicole had come out to her about being a balam, then she’d slept with a nix– in both definitions of the word. She had also been catching up on work after trying some migraine medications that ended up just wrecking her sleep and making her nauseous. But she had finally found one that worked after going to the specialist Dr. Kavanagh had referred her to. And it was Pride month, too, which gave her the perfect excuse to finally stop by Bread Cemetery. She could get some pride themed treats for herself and her roommates, maybe get some more pins, and perhaps even see a certain red head?

She’d stopped by the grocery store first, grabbing a few things they needed and some snacks because they always needed snacks, before heading over to the bakery. As she got closer, Arden could see the shop was pretty busy. It seemed that the gays of Wicked’s Rest were excited for some gay little treats, which she loved to see. It did mean that she’d be waiting in line and wouldn’t get an opportunity to talk to Andy. Or Lil or Jonas. Whoever was working that day.

A twinge of disappointment ran through her, but, you know, it was probably for the best she shouldn’t–

Someone bumped into her shoulder, nearly sending the tote bag of groceries to the ground, though she thankfully caught it in the crook of her elbow. She blinked as Andy herself steadied her. “Uh, yeah, I’m good,” she replied, a little dazed at the fact that she had literally just run into the woman she’d been thinking about. Granted, it was in front of the place she worked, but still.

“You?” Pulling the bag up over her shoulder, Arden looked over the other, a small smile tugging at her lips as she remembered how adorably flustered Andy had gotten that night. Goddammit. “It has, yeah. I’ve been wanting to stop by, but it’s been a busy couple of weeks,” she explained, tucking a few stray strands behind her ear. “Can’t complain, though.” She absolutely could, but that was irrelevant. “How have you been?”

—

“It happens.” Andy opened the box, frowning slightly to see that Jonas had snuck in a pride cookie. She didn’t like getting things for free, even if she did believe in petty theft. But that was only towards people who deserved it. She closed the box and looked up at Arden again.

Her gaze flickered to the bag of groceries that Arden was holding, then she looked back up to meet her eyes. Arden stood only a few inches taller than her, and it wasn’t something she’d really noticed when they’d been sitting down listening to others speak their poetry, but it was apparent now. Andy shrugged. “Things outside of work have been slow for the most part. I’m trying to make a dresser, but that’s… well, it’s going.” With a laugh, Andy ran a hand through her hair with free hand. It was a little windy, and of course it would be on the day she didn’t wear a braid.

“Good though, I mean…” Andy thought for a moment, “aside from the headaches, the crabs, my cousin’s snoring– good.” She flashed a smile at Arden, stepping to the side as somebody moved around them. “What about you? Were you going somewhere? Looks like you’re loaded up for a picnic or something.” Andy knew that Arden was roommates with Zack and she briefly wondered if there was something else there before remembering that Arden had explained that Zack was sort of seeing that one weirdo named Levi.

—

Arden’s anxiety flared a bit as she saw Andy open the box and frown. “Ah, crap, did they get ruined? I’m sorry, I was a little distracted.” Never mind the fact that she had only been distracted because she was thinking about Andy. Irrelevant.

She had a nice laugh, the kind that brought a smile to her face just from hearing it. “You’re making a dresser? That’s pretty impressive, even if it is slow-going,” she replied, noting the other had her hair down today. It was a good look, framed her faced nicely, and added a bit more contrast to her pale skin, making the freckles on her face that much more noticeable. Arden also spied the scar running across her cheek, something that had gone unnoticed under the dim lights of the Red Eye. She wondered if there was a story behind that.

Cousin, right. She vaguely recalled Andy mentioning something about a cousin while they were chatting at the cafe. “Oh, yeah, how's the chapstick been treating you? Helping at all with the headaches?” She personally hadn’t noticed much of a difference after trying it, but her migraines were always miserable. Hopefully that wouldn’t be much of a problem anymore.

“Man, it's busy today, huh?” she asked as they moved out of the way. “Not really, I was just picking up a few things from the store, and figured I’d stop by and check out the Pride stuff. Looks like I might have better luck if I came back another day, though,” she smiled. “But, I’m glad folks are excited about it. Wicked’s Rest has always been pretty progressive, but it’s nice to see that it’s just gotten more openly gay in my time away.” Arden paused for a moment, an idea wreaking havoc on her stomach. “Were you heading somewhere?”

—

“No, no. They didn’t. Jonas just snuck something extra in, didn’t expect him to.” It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have listened to her telling him not to, anyway. Andy held the box carefully, not wanting to accidentally crush the contents that were inside.

Andy shook her head, mildly embarrassed. “I say it’s a dresser, but it’s more like a shelf with two holes and… another shelf underneath.” She had wanted to try and make it for Kaden so that he would have some place to put his things rather than in his suitcases, but she didn’t have enough wood, and she didn’t exactly feel right going around chopping down the trees in their area. She’d have to buy it pre-cut and sanded, she thought. “But I’ll let you think it’s cool if you really want to.”

“Mmm, it’s been working a little. Not great, but it’s more like a mixture of spearmint and sulfur not, not just the sulfur.” Andy wrinkled her nose to try and smell her upper lip. She had just reapplied some. “But then I have to do this and it just looks a little stupid.” Andy wasn’t really sure why she had decided to show Arden what she did in order to better smell the chapstick. “Sorry– but um, how about you? How are yours? The headaches, I mean.”

Andy turned to look back inside of the shop, then looked back at Arden with a smile. “A little, yeah. Has been like this on the street since the first.” She shifted the box around slightly so that she could smooth down the tape with her index finger. “I could always let you know? I’ve got a front row seat to the foot traffic, usually.” Andy’s smile grew a little wider as she looked down at the bags Arden was holding. “It’s cool, seeing the community come together, absolutely.” She and Alex hadn’t had much of one before moving to Wicked’s Rest. Andy refused to consider what they had been raised into as a community. “Mmm? I was thinking of going somewhere, just not sure. Didn’t want to go home.” She paused for a moment. “Any suggestions?”

—

“Oh, that’s really sweet of him,” Arden smiled. She didn’t know Jonas personally, but from everything she had seen and heard about him both in school and now, he seemed to be a very kind individual, and Andy seemed fond of him.

She tried to picture the half constructed dresser, but her mind betrayed her, supplying her instead with an image of Andy building it, looking very buff and concentrated, aaaand that was enough, brain, thanks. “Hey, I mean, that’s progress,” she shrugged. “The best I could do is, like, assembling IKEA furniture, so yes, even attempting to build a dresser from scratch is very impressive to me.” Living on her own for six years had taught her how to be somewhat handy, but making things was on a whole other level.

Arden bit down on her lip, trying very hard not to laugh at the cute scrunched up face Andy made. Fuck, she was cute. “I, uh,” she started, trying to contain her grin, “you’re fine. And the migraines have been a struggle,” an understatement, “but I’ve finally found a medication that works, so I’ve been feeling so much better.” After over a month of dealing with it, she was finally feeling like herself again.

“I mean, that works. If you wouldn’t mind, that is.” Avoiding the crowds and being able to talk to Andy? That sounded like a pretty good deal. And she was thinking of heading somewhere, too. “Oh, well, I was thinking about heading over to Harborside, and checking out Hanging Rock,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I haven’t been there since the weather’s gotten nicer, but the view is always nice.” She had been wanting to visit now that they were getting into the summer months. She hadn’t exactly been planning on going today, but… “Would you care to join me?”

—

“It is, yeah. He’s sweet.” After meeting him, he’d quickly become one of Andy’s favorite people. Lil, too. Andy had gotten lucky on where she’d ended up landing a job. June had been kind enough to take her in as an assistant, even without any experience at an actual bakery.

Andy laughed before shaking her head. “I’m sure you could make a birdhouse, if you really tried.” Andy was sure Arden could do anything she put her mind to, especially after the poem she’d read. Even now, Andy still felt like that’d taken more guts than most things she’d done. “But hey, appreciate the vote of confidence.” Andy hadn’t realized it, but her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so wide. She reached up, rubbing at the side of her jaw, suddenly embarrassed.

Her expression morphed into something of concern as Arden explained that her migraines were still a problem. Andy’s brows knit together as she tried to recall any and all remedies that’d been suggested to her. “Medication is good. Some tea might help, too. There’s a place downtown that has a ton of different stuff, and Meera is really um.. smart, so she could probably help you figure it out.” Hopefully the meds would continue to help. “It’s good to hear that they’re doing their job, though.”

As Arden explained her plans, Andy nodded along as if she’d known them all along. “That sounds nice.” She’d been there only a few times, but she knew the history of Hanging Rock and it made her stomach knot in anxiety. Though, if Arden were to–

“Oh, I’d love to.” Maybe too quick on the draw, idiot. Andy cleared her throat. “Sure, I– I can drive?” Her jeep would be able to take the incline like a champ, and she wasn’t sure what kind of vehicle that Arden had. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m parked down that way.” Too quick, too quick. “Or you can, if you want?”

—

Arden grinned. “I mean, I’m incredibly persistent and stubborn, so if I really wanted to, probably. No guarantees it’d actually be good, though.” She shot Andy a pair of finger guns because she was stupid and awkward and bisexual– sue her, okay? Seeing the other rubbing at her cheeks, though, made her realize just how much she’d been smiling, too. She was truly useless.

“I’m not usually much of a tea person, but I’ll give it a try. Maybe peppermint tea would be something to try?” She made a mental note to stop by the shop sometime. “I do really appreciate all the suggestions. Hopefully the meds will keep helping out. Or the smell goes away because that would also be so nice.”

Biting back a chuckle at Andy’s speedy reply, Arden gave her a smile. “That’d be great, actually. I left mine back at home, figured I’d go for a walk now that I can handle the smell a bit better.” After a moment she added, “It’s still absolutely repulsive, to be clear, but I kept my time outdoors to a minimum while I was figuring this all out, so it’s just nice being outside more. But anyway–” She nodded her head at the other woman, “Lead the way.”

—

“They just need to make their nests in it, not much else.” Andy shrugged. “I’m sure it’d be suitable.” When Arden shot her finger guns, Andy’s jaw slackened slightly and she snorted. “What was that?” Shaking her head, she looked in the direction of Bread Cemetery one more time.

“I’ve only recently got into tea, but I’m more of a coffee person.” Andy nodded at Arden’s question about peppermint tea. “If the meds don’t work, which I mean, I hope that they do, I definitely recommend checking out something like that.” There had to be something else that could work too, Andy thought, but she wasn’t sure if suggesting something magical to a human (or assumed human) would do any real good.

“You’re starting to like the smell… I don’t get it, but more power to you.” She wasn’t sure if the joke fell flat or if it soared, so Andy supplied Arden with a stupid grin, motioning the other woman to follow her in the direction of her jeep. She got into the driver’s seat, putting the baked goods in the back seat and reached over to unlock the passenger side door for Arden.

“I only have a cassette player, but you can try and get the aux cord to work, if you really want.” She handed the wire over to Arden before putting on her seatbelt. “It sounds like shit most of the time, so I usually have to put my phone on speaker.” Andy scrunched her nose before looking over at her company. “Ready?”

—

Arden shrugged. Her perfectionist tendencies had a tendency of flaring up on those sorts of personal projects with no set deadline, so she could just picture driving herself crazy trying to make a birdhouse that worked and didn’t look like shit. Not that she really cared to, nor did she have much use for a birdhouse personally, living in an apartment and all.

She flushed, though, at Andy’s laughter, wishing a hole would appear under her to save her from her embarrassment. At least it was a cute laugh. “I don’t know,” she laughed. Covering her face with her hands for a moment, she could feel the heat radiating off of her cheek.

“Oh, I’m with you there, I’m a coffee menace.” If these meds didn’t work, she was going to lose her fucking mind, but sure, she would try the tea after that. “Yeah, well, fingers crossed, they do” she said, crossing her fingers as she spoke. “But, again, I appreciate all the suggestions.” It had not been fun dealing with all of this, but it was nice to know some people cared. Even a little.

She chuckled, more amused by Andy’s delivery and adorable grin than the actual joke. Trailing behind, she followed the redhead over to a parked Jeep. Arden waited outside as the other got in and unlocked the door for her. It was clearly an old, well-loved car, the fact made even more apparent when Andy mentioned the cassette player. She accepted the cord after buckling up. “Oh, I mean, I can just play stuff off my phone if that’s easier. What’s the vibe, what are we feeling?” She wasn’t sure if her go-to playlist would be to the other’s liking. Her taste had previously been described as ‘stoner dad music.’ “Ready when you are.”

—

“Um…” Andy paused for a moment before starting the jeep. Her music taste was all over the place. She could listen to virtually anything, aside from country music. Call it distaste, or maybe some kind of PTSD over Tennessee. “Whatever is fine.” That was better, she thought. To let Arden choose, especially because she was the one with the cord to begin with. She threw the jeep into drive and pulled away from the curb, heading towards Harborside.

The drive would have been short and sweet, if not for the foot traffic. Andy didn’t mind, though. For the hours spent traveling across the states with Alex in tow, she actually didn’t mind driving. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to do so, but driving gave her time to clear her mind, and though Arden was in the passenger seat next to her, it didn’t bother her one bit. She pulled off onto one of the viewpoints, taking in the deep brown sign that advised them of a lookout point, towards Hanging Rock.

“I’ve thought about running here a few times.” She liked the woods better, it was more familiar, despite the way she often mistook sap for blood among other things. Andy turned the jeep off and looked over at Arden with a smile. “You want to go down? Or up?” The topmost viewpoint from Hanging Rock would be spectacular, but Andy wasn’t sure how her company felt about heights. “I think the trail starts over there.” She motioned towards the dirt path that dipped down and then back up towards the rocky structure.

—

Plugging the cord into her phone, she hesitated for a moment, feeling oddly anxious about sharing her music with the other. There was something about it that felt a little too vulnerable, in a way that made her skin prickle. But Andy had already seen Arden with her masks down, close to tears, in front of a crowd of people. If that hadn’t killed her, a few songs certainly wouldn’t.

The aux cord was a bust, so she ended up just turning up her volume, filling the car with the familiar tunes of her playlist as they slowly made their way toward the cliffside park. This wasn't a common occurrence for her, being in the passenger seat, but she found it kind of relaxing. Even though she and Andy didn’t speak much on the drive there, the silence was a comfortable one. And if she spent a portion of the ride sneaking looks at the other? Well, that was totally, definitely not on purpose. Also, shut up.

“Oh, the trail here’s great. Running up will kick your ass, and the view makes it worth it every time,” Arden grinned. “I used to run it all the time back in college.” Between living in Deersprings and her frequent visits to the headquarters in Oldtown, she had often found herself strolling through Harborside in those days. She turned the music off as Andy turned to her. “I wouldn’t mind going up, if that’s alright with you.” It was a nice day for it, the breeze of the water cool and not so strong that it would be bothersome. Directing her gaze to where the other had pointed, she nodded as she noticed the familiar path. “That’s it, yeah. You good to go?”

—

Andy wasn’t the kind of person to turn towards what was comfortable, not by a long shot. But she did like familiar things, and Hanging Rock was not one of them. Arden, maybe– she could be one of them. A friendly face in a sea of mishaps. Andy liked the idea of making friends who wouldn’t expect much from her. She could be normal, or as close as she could get to it. In this town, that was a blessing. Whether or not Arden was harboring some secret about herself wasn’t for Andy to speculate, and so she returned her company’s smile with her own.

“That sounds like a lot. The running up it.” She craned her neck to get a good look at the trailhead from the window of her jeep. “But sure, we can go up.” She didn’t mind, really. The view probably would be worth it, after all. Andy got out of the jeep and closed the door with her hip, grabbing the items from the back seat before returning to Arden’s side at the trailhead. “Couldn’t forget the important stuff.” She lifted the picnic items, swaying slightly in case Arden tried to take the items from her in a show of help. “Upward and onward, that’s what they say, right?”

In Arden’s company, things seemed normal– kind, almost. She liked that. Andy looked up towards the sky as they trekked, the bad thoughts and doubts simmering below her ability to be a yes man. Maybe she could make friends and hold onto those friendships. It’d been years and she’d been reluctant, so now was as good of time as any, right?

#para: onward and upward #para: arden #wickedswriting #//THANK U ANG FOR WRITING W ME I LOVE ARDEN SO MUCH I SMOOCH U

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stormyoceans · 2 years ago

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Have a nice day, Monica! 🌸How are you feeling? Do you sleep better or are you worried about insomnia? I have a question for you: what are your favorite interviews with JimmySea? Can you make a top? I like their interviews, where the boys tell something special about their character, about hobbies outside the set or about their family. But I think the most favorite interview is Mint Hang Out. Very beautiful bright cafe, delicious dishes, Jimmy and Sea in flirting mode, and Jimmy, who did not come out of the image of Puen, because there were shootings the day before, and driving everyone crazy with gentle looks. Take care of yourself!🌸

hello, dear anon!!!! 💜

this is such a sweet message and that’s also a very interesting question!!! unfortunately im not the best at keeping track with interviews and events, so im probably going to miss some major one, but im going to try to make a small list of my favorites anyway!!!

praew magazine Q&A. YOU WILL NEVER GET ME TO ADMIT HOW MANY TIMES I’VE REWATCHED THIS INTERVIEW JUST KNOW I WOULD HAVE ORDERLIES AT MY DOOR READY TO DRAG ME INTO A PADDED ROOM IF I ADMITTED IT OUT LOUD. im not sure why i like it so much tbh, maybe because it’s a recent one and you can really see how much more comfortable they are in front of the camera and with each other, especially sea. my favorite part is how after the 15th time sea touched jimmy’s leg in the span of 3 minutes even the editor of the video was like if im forced to bare witness to things not even god could withstand then so are y’all [zooms in]

mint hang out vlog. jimmy truly be having some residual method acting left in his system with how ridiculously FOND he looks throughout the entire video. the only reason it doesn't get first place to me is because technically this isn’t exactly an interview but more of a vlog, as the title says, however since i love it and the ACTUAL interview doesn’t have any subs (if anyone asks this is my villain origin story btw) i’ve decided that i don’t care and that im gonna add it to the list anyway. ALSO THIS PERFECTLY SHOWS WHY WE NEED A JIMMYSEA EATING PROGRAM @ GMMTV LISTEN TO THE PEOPLE!!!!!!

our skyy vice versa interview. LISTEN i know it doesn't have any subs so it's not fully accessible to international fans, however it deserved a place here even just for THEE HUG™, i know it was for a challenge but sea clearly didn't expect it and you can tell he is SO DELIGHTED by it AND SO AM I OKAY IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU I AM ONLY HUMAN. also even if you don't know what they're talking about the vibes are just so immaculate and unmatched i would listen to them FOR HOURS

open the world interview. im so very fond of this one because i feel like it's a very good starting point to get to know them. sea is still very shy here, but you learn a lot of things that if you follow them for a while you find out are true: that behind the scenes sea is clingy and determined, that jimmy is always there to guide him, that the way they express their love (even the platonic kind) is by supporting and taking care of the other person, that they do end up spending time together swimming and singing and wakeboarding......

let's talk BL podcast. i knew i could trust them with my life when they were asked which was their favorite vice versa episode and jimmy replied that it was episode 10 (because he is so proud of himself for the derangement he unleashed upon us) while sea eventually picked episode 11 (because he is a man of culture) TRULY KINGS OF TASTE VISION AND CORRECT OPINIONS ONLY!!!!!!! honestly it's just a great interview all-around and i always love how both jimmy and sea try their best in everything they do

i wish i could add more but sadly all the other ones that come to mind (like the oishi magic of zero episode with milklove and the jd's birthday party live with earthmix) don't have any subs ;;;;;; let's hope we're gonna get a lot more when last twilight finally airs!!!!!

#also if anyone knows of some other interview im completely missing please let me know!!!!#anyway thank you so much anon!!!!!#for asking me this and for letting me know your favorite one and for sending such a sweet and kind message 💜#just wanted to tell you i also got your previews message but that it may take me a while to get to it i really apologize #please make sure to stay hydrated rest lots and take care of yourself too!!!!#wishing you the best of days!!!! 💜💜💜#jimmysea #jimmy jitaraphol #sea tawinan #m: ask

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emptymanuscript · 3 months ago

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I feel like one of the most important distinctions you can make is between the personal and the public.

There are things I want, personally, that I should not have because of the negative consequences.

When I am hurt, I want to hit back. This is totally acceptable as a personal feeling. It is not acceptable as a public policy. The monopoly of violence SHOULD belong to the state so that it can’t be used for personal advantage. There’s nothing preventing me in my rage from hitting back infinitely harder than whatever hurt was done to me. An interested party who is operating on pure emotional reactivity is the person least qualified to make the fairest decision. Turning that power over to a bureaucracy is the surest way to make the decision as neutral as it can be because it will move through a process that can’t feel emotions.

I, personally, absolutely want to get a rocket launcher and shoot it through the front door of the Fox news building. Just burn it all. They all fucking deserve to die, down to the cockroaches in the walls for being willing to live with them.

I, as a matter of public policy, absolutely believe that it is the duty of the law and society to protect the people at Fox from ME and my desires. I not only should not be allowed, I should be (and am, for anyone worried) actively prevented from taking any steps toward that desire.

Maturity and civilization both depend on the personal sacrifice of one’s own immediate desires for the sake of a larger and longer term good. Just because I want it doesn’t mean I should have it. It is instead requisite for me to think about the larger implications of fulfilling my desires.

And this can be damn basic. When I first wake up in the morning, I don’t want to get out of bed, feed myself, do all that basic life stuff. I want someone to bring everything to me and make it easy for me. Assuming I don’t just want to go back to sleep. But think about that from a public policy standpoint. That right there is the basis for slavery. So, no, even that very basic and natural desire should not be allowed to grow beyond that tiny little ennui in my heart. I should picture a very tiny violin and get going.

Frankly, personally, I hope every single Trump supporter experiences intense and personal betrayal, suffering until they literally pray to take their vote back because they have suffered so much. And then they should die anyway. Painfully. Pathetically. While I laugh at them. Until the American People reverse the election in sheer desperation for mercy.

And, as a matter of public policy, I know that is not ok. None of it. I’m not ok with the another political faction doing it. And the rules can’t change depending on which political faction is in power, otherwise they aren’t rules. Otherwise no one is ever safer or better off than how we treat the worst person because it’s only the matter of a vote to put someone else in that position.

There, but for a different electoral outcome, go I.

The first link of the chain binds everyone because we CANNOT control the chain.

In some ideal dream world, I would be perfectly in charge of everything and it would go exactly how I want and I could have every little desire AND make sure it didn’t run away from me and have everything prove I was perfectly correct about all my opinions and they would build statues to me because I was such a great and beloved overlord.

And pretty much the exact opposite of that is what you should expect from the real world.

It is NEVER you.

I will NEVER be the sole person in charge pulling all the strings.

No one is EVER the sole person in charge pulling all the strings.

Even absolute dictators have to deal with other powerful people. That’s literally the history of our democratic lineage. Enough powerful nobles forced an absolute monarch to cede them rights in writing for all time and that started the ball rolling to where we are, which none of them anticipated and they wouldn’t be ok with it.

It’s NEVER you. You cannot force the world to live up to your desires. You are ALWAYS in negotiation with everything else.

So you are NEVER safe from or immune to the public policies you press for.

You HAVE to fight for public policies to treat the very worst person with the minimum dignity and respect you feel you should be entitled to because you are NEVER more than a simple redefinition to being the very worst person. The people you love are NEVER more than one rash decision or accident away from suffering all the consequences you want to inflict on those you hate.

Public Policy NEEDS to be us checking our ego at the door and pushing for better than our best selves. Because public policy can enact the vicious impulses of our worst selves with infinitely greater power and horror.

Even for those you HATE, it is all too easy to see atrocities out of your nightmares play out in front of you while you pray to take it back because you didn’t mean THIS. This is too awful. This is inhuman. Because yes, it is. Public Policy isn’t human. It is emergent. And you CANNOT control the emergent properties. You cannot hold back its worst impulses because they’re not just yours.

The best you can do is try to give it all your most reasoned and generous mercy. All you can do is try and peel your pettiness and passions out of that inhuman clockwork in the hope that it won’t devour people if you don’t give it that directive.

Does that mean we can’t feel anger and hatred and fear and all those emotions?

That’s not how being human works. You could try and repress them but then it’ll just squeeze out somewhere else. No. You get all that. You get to feel it. You get to process it. You get to use it to make PERSONAL decisions.

I’m a Jew and I am officially saying, as far as I am concerned for myself, you can think of me as a Kike, think I am going to hell, block me, ignore me, refuse to use my business. You can throw the Musk gesture. You can say that the world would be better off without me because the Jews are evil and drink the blood of babies. You will have to live with me hating you back but that’s fine as a personal interaction. We don’t have to like each other. We can live together AND hate each other AND have it still function.

The COST for having all three of those things at once is that you still have to fight for my rights and protections in the public square and I still have to fight for yours. We both have to push for Public Policy to protect the other because we can’t predict who will end up where. Yes, in a perfectly just world, I firmly believe the Nazi would get the worst treatment. But we don’t live in a perfect world. And history has shown that it is frequently the worst people on top instead of on the bottom.

So it’s gotta go the other way, too. It’s NEVER you on top. But it jolly well can be the people you hate pulling the levers to put you on the bottom. So you have to check the power of the dictator because you can’t control who it will be for the same reason you have to protect the rights of the villains. Because it’s just one switch away from all the weapons you gave yourself from being turned on you.

Feel what you feel. But advocate for better. Or you are living on borrowed time.

I do actually care marginally about the guy in that reddit screenshot who voted for Trump and is now worried that he might lose his medicaid funding because I did not fucking stutter when I said healthcare is a human right but the people losing their internships and job offers to the hiring freeze are straight up hilarious.

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dumbbitchfrommars · 10 months ago

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How are you, J?

Can I call you J? After what must be a thousand posts, I think it’s safe to say no one is reading my blog nor is anyone worried about who I even am. It’s literally my online journal.

Wait, the bots. They might get me. Or would it come up if someone googled my name? Hm.

I guess it’s for the best that I continue keeping it lowkey online. Despite my entire inner monologue being on here. I feel safe knowing my name isn’t on here. Except I have gotten a bit lazy. A few names have slipped out here and there I’m sure, but nothing too dangerous. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me and I forget about being careful. But I should also always be careful.

I think that incident in Koh Tao has changed me. Cause somehow I feel like partying - drinking - even just drugs. I can’t do it anymore. It got me sick for MONTHS. And I’m trying to give my body the best shot it’s got to fight it off, and I realised that I don’t need any of that stuff to still have fun. Also sometimes the vibes are just not it and that’s okay too. Even the people who were drunk, high, or both all knew that too. So not just bc I was sober.

I think I’ve really established a good stable foundation for myself - more than I give myself credit for. I feel safe and supported when I’m in my own space and in my own lane. But I still have so much love to give and connections around me and I appreciate that so much too. But I also respect that I am so good when I’m on my own.

My head hurts :(

I can’t imagine how my sister is feeling right now.

It’s interesting that while I felt called to do more - the universe told me no in the form of my sisters.

Divine protection right there. Ive been seeing synchronicities all day today actually. But I think my favourite part was helping dad paint the new shelf in the bathroom. I love my dad so much. I love my mum so much.

I’m not ready to accept that one day they won’t be in my life anymore.

I really feel like u understand mum. While she triggers me, I see that she’s also just a person living life and learning in her own way. She wasn’t given the same opportunities and love and life that I have. So I can’t expect her to unlearn certain things just for me. She’s also allowed to make mistakes just like I am. I have to forgive her always. It’s not worth me holding on

Especially her moods. It’s the medication…. It’s always the medication. It’s never me. It’s never about me. I’m so selfish for thinking in these cyclical ways. That x negative experience, emotion, feeling is BECAUSE of me. It’s not BECAUSE of anything. It just… Is. Growth comes from accepting what is.

I feel like I can sit here in front of this heater forever and never feel warmed up.

Fucking mdma. It’s bad for you.

Anyway. I should probably get some sleep. I haven’t slept since last night, crazy.

Idk how I did it in Thailand. Just go go go. I am not about that life at allllllll

But I guess while you’re young you gotta do it!

I had fun. That’s all that matters. Always.

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sprintingowl · 2 years ago

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Writing Your First TTRPG

So you want to write your first TTRPG system.

A short thread.

First, you should know that you don't have to make your TTRPG from scratch.

You can always use Mork Borg or Fate or PbtA or Trophy or any other system that supports third party content.

Systems like Caltrop Core even come with tutorial material for how to write your game.

But let's say you don't want any guardrails. You want to make the whole thing yourself. Here's how to do that.

To start, zero in on what your system's about.

Don't worry about genre or style, just find something you think would be fun to tell stories about. Dinosaur bikers. Astronauts in a lover's tiff. Spiders selling hats. Anything.

Now that you've got your subject, the next step is crucial.

Dive right in.

I'm serious. Open up a document and start writing the part of the game that is most interesting to you.

It might be character Classes, or monsters, or even just a basic idea of how you want your game to handle some part of gameplay.

"Food is important! There's rules for hunting!" is a fine place to start.

From there, build outward.

If you've written "Gremlin Class: +1 to Sneak, +1 to Airship Repair", that tells you two things about how your system works.

It tells you that both sneaking and airships matter in your game, and that you should write rules for them.

When writing rules, here are some things not to worry about just yet:

-Are the rules realistic?

-Do the rules work?

Just get some mechanics down. Give people a way to interact with your game.

"Roll a d6. High is good and low is bad" is a fine place to start, but you can get weirder.

Do you want people to roll a lot of dice? Or use dice that get neglected?

Do you want to test something other than dice rolling, like playing cards or flicking a paper football?

Do you want players to have some degree of control over the dice? Can they spend a resource for rerolls, or to simply succeed?

You might end up finding that your dice system works a bit like another game, and this is completely fine. There are thousands of TTRPG systems that have elements that overlap with each other. Nobody has a patent on target numbers.

Once you've got some mechanics, take a look at how they interact with the other thing you built---the thing you care about. This will inspire you to design further.

Add new Classes, new monsters, new subsystems.

Keep designing until you feel like you've written down everything you want to, and then get some sleep.

Yes, really. Put the project down, go to bed, wake up the next day, and edit it.

Your game is going to look incoherent at first, and that's fine. The goal of this editing pass isn't to get it perfect. It's to get your game to the point where someone can read it and make a character.

Once your game is in that state, get some friends to build PCs. Play a session. See what breaks. Go back and adjust your game to fix the things that broke. Then play a bit more. See what else breaks.

If you wrote a really big system, this will all take longer, but eventually you'll find that your system isn't breaking all the time.

At this point, you can keep it for yourself and your friends, or you can distribute it.

Platforms like itchio are great for posting new TTRPGs. Depending on your skillset, you might illustrate your game and put it through layout, or you might just export it as a PDF and post it. Both approaches are fine.

If you decide you want to make your project into a commercial undertaking, you can go to kickstarter or gamefound, or print zines and sell them yourself. Or you can just sit back and enjoy the thing you've made.

Coda: This is absolutely not the only way to design TTRPGs, and I'm sure a lot of designers have completely different processes. If this approach isn't working for you, or if there's something you hate about it, go with your instinct and do things different.

#ttrpg #dnd #indie ttrpgs #ttrpg homebrew #ttrpg design #rpg

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melodyplucked · 8 months ago

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she can't help but be more than a little confused by the girl's words... she's always dreamt of being a mom? maybe... but whatever it is, she's just going to nod and smile, and let her have this. it's sweet that she wants ricky to have their support, even if lynne for her part feels like nina's going to need it more considering... ❝ honey i don't mind at all! i would love to bake with you. it's my mom's recipe, even though it probably came from one of those betty crocker books. and if you can get ricky out of bed in the morning well that's up to you. i usually let him sleep. we'll enjoy some nice time together, put the fire on, maybe light some candles... it'll be great. feel like a family in here. ❞ divorced or not... this was her home for more than 16 years... and she wants this to be a nice memory for her son. and for herself. ❝ i think it's good you waited. you want to make sure you really mean it before you tell him. i know it's scary to give your heart to someone, but i'm sure you'll both always remember the night fondly. i think it's the first time he's been in love- honestly. ❞

❝ exactly. i'm glad you enjoyed it. sometimes just sitting on the couch in front of the tv together is nice. you'll get more of a feel for that with another american tradition in february with the super bowl. ❞ she laughs, shaking her head. ❝ maybe you'll have to get the puppy bowl on in the morning beforehand. might be more interesting for you than the sport you didn't grow up with. ❞ she nods at the girl's question. ❝ she did. i was the oldest in my family, and the first grandchild, so i spent a lot of time with her cooking or with my mom. ❞ but the ability to relate in this sense is far from their other subject, of her plans to move in with ricky next year. ❝ you have to be protected, of course. with the dangers back home. the last thing we'd want would be for something bad to happen to the two of you. and if you have a pool house that means a pool to throw those parties with your friends when the weather's nice. and even without it- it's not a bad thing to be the friends with the place to host. ❞

❝ that means a lot to me. ricky means the world to me. he's really gonna need the support, i think. i mean, i'm kind of used to it. after dreaming about something so long, it feels normal, in a way, when you finally get it. ❞ it was nice to know that his parents were going to be so supportive once they told them the news. she knew it wasn't something many people would ever experience, so it was good to have support from his family. he'd have her family, of course, but they weren't the people he'd grown up with. ❝ i would love to help you make them in the morning, if you don't mind. ricky and i will get up and help out. i'm always awake super early on holidays as it is. i love the homey, warm feeling of a holiday with the people you love. ❞ she sighs softly, nodding her head. ❝ comes with the territory. i appreciate you for saying that, though. it's nice to have another mother figure to be able to confide in. ❞ she says, and she really does mean it. it's nice to be able to get closer to ricky's mom like this. she's so happy lynne had been able to come for christmas. ❝ it was lovely. he had told me he loves me a few times already, but... i've never been in love before and i wanted it to be perfect when i finally told him. i'd never said those words to anyone before, i wanted it to be memorable. ❞ part of her still wondered if it had been silly to wait, but seeing the look on his face when she told him had been worth it.

❝ that's so sweet. oh, i love that. it's nice to just have festive things on while you enjoy the day together. that's kind of what we did, too. it was a lovely first thanksgiving. ❞ she was excited to get to do more of these things as the years went on. holidays in the states with ricky's family, holidays home with hers, sharing all of their traditions. ❝ yeah, i get that. it's a nice bonding time. did your grandma teach you to cook, too? ❞ it's nice to get to learn more about ricky's mom. she already feels so close to the woman and all her fears and anxieties about meeting her have faded away. ❝ it's already been a struggle having a security detail on campus, so we're looking for a place with a garage apartment or pool house. my moms would like my bodyguard to be close and there's this place that has what we're looking for, so we want to start on the process. we thought about an apartment, but with the bodyguard thing, it makes it difficult... ❞ she's excited to have her own space again, though. not have to share communal spaces with people she doesn't know is an exciting aspecting of moving into their own home.

#guest thread feat. lynne #♫ — ( v32 ) leaving doubt in the past | secret princess #writing / nini salazar roberts ( inspotlight )

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outercrasis · 2 years ago

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The Distance - Ch 9

Pairing: Din Djarin x Pilot F!Reader (reader is petite/no other descriptors)

Word Count/Rating: 2.5k / T (will become M/E in later chapters)

Warnings: none really, just some technobabble

Summary: Din has another surprise in store for you.

Previous || Series Masterlist || Next

You wake up naturally the next morning. Leaves soften the harshness of the sun's early rays, dulling the light before it reaches you. Sleep leaves easily and you feel ready to start your day.

It’s an easy jump from your hammock to the forest floor. The morning air has a slight refreshing chill – the sun not yet fully heating up the planet’s surface.

Back at the Chimera, you grab some breakfast and find that Grogu has already woken up and snuck out of the bedroom. He patiently waits for his morning meal, sitting on a cargo box and blinking at you. You glance at the door to Din’s room. Not sure of the last time you saw him have a full night’s rest you decide to not disturb him and take Grogu outside with you. It's already beginning to warm up.

You lay a blanket out on the grass and sit, slowly enjoying the rest of your breakfast. Grogu is interested in getting your attention, but soon finds himself more than content to play with Tex instead. Cleaning all the muck out from Tex's wheels later will be well worth it.

Stomach full and content with the kid's safety, you dive into the datapad you brought out, filled to the brim with information on the Chimera and N1. You’re glad to see that there’s nothing in Tex’s diagnostic report that suggests another part affecting the flux stabilizers. They probably just need a good clean sooner than expected – additional build up from the added weight of the N1 getting hauled around.

The Chimera has an otherwise healthy readout. There's a few parts you'll keep an eye out for at the next shop you come across, wanting to have them on hand, but it's nothing pressing.

Now you can get to what you're really excited for. The N1's schematics. You've recently been pouring over the old blueprints and documents you'd gathered on the N1 model, refreshing your memory on the intricate machinery.

The Naboo engineers were truly innovators. The way they fit everything in like a jigsaw puzzle, streamlining the starfighter design and improving on it in nearly every way. It’s nearly perfect – a showpiece and a devastatingly effective weapon. You’re dying to see the changes Din made to the ship.

The change to the astromech socket was obvious from when you first laid eyes on the ship, but seeing the way the life support system was rerouted to the second area is another work of art. It’s a closed loop system with the main cockpit, ionic filtration keeping the air clean for both parties. The way the new ducts were added looked like they were always meant to be there.

The twin J-type engines are still intact despite the front cones being removed to expose the engine core. In addition to improved aesthetics, the streamlined look has the benefit of assisting with the ship’s speed and aerodynamics. It’s clear that speed is what Din was looking for – the cryogenic density combustion booster on the rear thruster unlike any modification you’ve ever seen before. Whatever mechanic worked on this ship knows their stuff for it to even work.

You audibly gasp when you discover the kineso-switch in the N1’s schematics. That is definitely not part of the stock model’s features. You’ve only ever seen a switch like that in the schematics of podracers or battlecruisers – the most reckless and most capable of handling that level of power. It’s hard to believe it’s even on the N1. Looking closer, you notice the cerium quantum limiter attached, which must be the only thing keeping the ship from shredding into pieces every time it’s used.

You continue to pour over the N1's readout. You make some notes here and there about some maintenance or possible improvements, but overall the ship is a beauty. Din took an already fast ship and souped it up to be one of the fastest in the galaxy – even without the hyperdrive booster ring.

As distracted as you are, you don't notice the time slip past. At some point Tex and Grogu make their way back over to you and Grogu cuddles up beside you for a small sunny nap. You take the opportunity to bounce some ideas off Tex, trying to plan out a workable maintenance and upgrade schedule for both ships in your care.

You haven't given much thought as to where Din might be until you hear his footsteps on the Chimera's ramp. Looking in his direction, your mouth goes completely dry.

Din's at the end of the ramp completely devoid of his beskar, save for the helmet, casually rolling up the sleeves of his tight black undershirt. For a moment you think you're hallucinating.

There are days where you nearly forget that underneath all the armor he’s just a man. A broad, terrifying, warrior of a man, but a man all the same. Without the beskar he seems more real, more tangible. He isn’t just some impenetrable suit of armor this way, he’s soft and exposed.

That's not to say he isn't still a large or intimidating figure. The beskar might add to the effect, but he's clearly still a force of his own. There's no hiding the wide set of his shoulders or strength of his arms without his usual layers to keep them covered up.

It makes sense to you now how he’s able to move so silently with his flashy second skin. All of his movements are fluid and natural – as though he’s never uncertain about what his next step will be. Watching the way his body moves is intoxicating. You hardly even realize that you’re staring until the t-visor turns to face you.

You look away quickly despite your obvious stare and clear your throat. You hope you can play it off as simple shock and not the gawking it had been. You look back to the datapad, trying to appear as engrossed as you had been a few moments before. The information on there might as well all be in Wookie now for all that you're processing it.

Din’s footsteps approach but you decide to ignore him. It might be best to not say anything until he does.

He nudges you with his foot. “Up," he says.

You easily relent and tilt your head up towards him. He fills your vision, blocking out the sun with his broad frame. His arms are casually folded over his chest and you're overcome with two thoughts.

The first is that this is the most skin you've ever seen Din show at once. Both hands and forearms are bare and for a moment you consider asking if it's sacrilegious for him. You think better of it.

The second is the realization that Din has tattoos. You didn't notice them from a distance, but they're entirely impossible to miss now.

Heavy black ink decorates both arms and runs up underneath where his shirt still covers. The designs are symmetrical, feeling reminiscent of the appearance of his armor. Heavy, bold, and sharp lines with carefully designed curves. You want to reach out and trace them with your finger.

"Trying out a new look, big guy?" you tease, doing your best to distract from the multitude of thoughts currently racing through your mind.

“Beskar seemed like a bad idea for what I have planned for you today.” That peaks your interest.

“What's that?"

It can't be blaster practice again. He'd left the armor on for that – a smart move all things considered. A stray blaster bolt wasn’t likely with the range he set up, but there’s always the possibility.

“You’ll see, come on.”

You get the sense Din is enjoying being cryptic with you. He did it yesterday with the blasters and now today with whatever he has planned. It’s cute – there’s a lightness to it that you’ve never seen from him before. You refrain from telling him I told you so about this little break.

About a hundred yards from the Chimera, Din suddenly stops. Turning around, he slides his suspenders off his shoulders and asks, “Are you ready, can'gal?”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. And why is he getting further undressed? The two of you standing in a random part of the field – no range set up, no objects nearby in the grass, just you, an almost completely beskar-less Din, and the dirt beneath your feet.

“Ready for what?”

Din taps his chest. “Hit me.”

You can’t help but laugh. He has to be joking. “What?” you manage to wheeze out.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your laughter, but he does seem a bit more serious than before. Din taps his chest again. “Hit me.”

You stop laughing, narrowing your eyes at him. His helmet gives away nothing, but he must mean it. Din wants you to punch him for some reason. You move slowly, just in case, and square up. You pull back your dominant hand and punch him as hard as you can, right in the center of his chest. He doesn’t even move and now your hand hurts.

“Is that it?” he asks, his voice calm and even.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you ask, shaking out your hand.

“It means you’re going to have to try harder.”

You set your jaw and square up again. You throw another punch with the same results. For a chest that looks soft under his tight undershirt, it’s shockingly solid. It’s annoying how unphased he is by your attempts.

You start to square up again when Din reaches out and takes your hand. The unexpected touch makes you freeze for just a moment. His hand easily engulfs yours, but his hold is gentle.

“Your fist is too loose,” he tells you. Carefully, he repositions your fist, bringing your thumb in tight over your fingers. “Now, try again.”

You steel yourself, keeping your hand how Din positioned it. You punch him again. He still doesn’t move, but this one at least forces a grunt of air out of his lungs.

“Better.”

Din has you keep using him as a personal punching bag. You'd worry if it seemed like your punches had any affect on him at all. There's the occasional grunt, but that's about all the feedback you get. He's a statue. An annoyingly large, beefy, and warm statue.

After a while, he must decide you have the basic form down because he begins to lightly spar. Din throws out simple punches here and there, forcing you to block and making note of what you do to fight back. None of your punches are landing anymore – his are.

He’s obviously holding back, only using a fraction of his strength, but the punches still hurt. As he slowly tears you down physically, he critiques you verbally, telling you when you’re too slow, too obvious, and too open. He takes advantage of these flaws, attacking you until you fall backwards, tripping over your own feet.

Your chest heaves as you look up at him. He barely glances at your miserable shape and says, “Get up.”

“Maker, give me a second,” you spit back. You hate this. He’s not even being mean about it, just distanced and calculating. You want to scream in frustration. There's none of the elation you felt at yesterday's target practice.

You slowly get back up from the dirt and it starts all over again. Din makes small adjustments to your form, capitalizes on your weak spots, remains unaffected by any lucky shots you manage to land, and before you know it your backside is hitting the ground again. You stay there for a moment, reveling in your misery.

“K’atini!" Din shouts at you. "I don’t know how you even made it off Rishi."

You don’t recognize the first word he said, but you don’t like the tone in which he said it, and the reminder of your fight on Rishi just feels like a low blow. He’s not the kind, patient teacher you had while shooting yesterday. With hand-to-hand combat Din has become testy and you aren’t even sure why because you haven’t landed a punch in what seems like forever.

You force yourself back up to your feet and face him again. This time as you fight, Din stops his constant critique. Instead, he just aims for your weak spots, taking advantage of all the ways in which you leave yourself open.

“Cut it out!” you yell, barely blocking another punch.

“Nar dralshy’a, can’gal!” Din shouts back. You don’t think he notices that he isn’t speaking Basic.

You continue your attempts to land a single punch, anything, to no avail. It’s maddening. You’re trying your hardest, your absolute best, and it’s useless against him. You can hardly figure out what you’re doing wrong as you try to prevent further hits from landing.

He isn’t going easy on you anymore. You know his punches still aren’t as hard as they could be, but they’re faster now, more complex, and barely giving you time to react to one before the other is flying at you.

The final straw comes when a punch comes too close to knocking the air clean out of your lungs. No one can call this sparring or teaching anymore. You’ve had enough. You barely manage a block, turn on your heel, and march in the direction of the Chimera.

“We’re not done,” Din calls after you, his voice not leaving room for argument. You don’t look back. He's stupid if he thinks that'll work on you. His hand wraps around your wrist, not too hard, but enough to pull you back towards him.

“I said, we aren’t done.” He drops your wrist as you turn back around. At least he isn’t willing to give you a totally unfair fight.

“Fuck off! I’m done, alright? I’m tired and my body hurts and I am done,” you shout.

Stepping forward, Din moves quickly to block your path. You stop short, staring angrily into his helmet where you assume behind it he’s staring right back.

In a pattern that seems to be repeating itself over and over today, Din is unrelenting. You try to pass him again only for him to block you once more. You've never hated his brick wall of a body more.

You can feel the rage in every fiber of your being. Blood pounds in your ears and your muscles tense. A scream is welling in your throat – a demand for him to let you pass. Before you unleash your fury, Din suddenly grunts and collapses to one knee.

Looking down, you see Tex sitting right behind Mando with one of his arms out, the end still sparking blue. Under normal circumstances you'd admonish Tex and check to see if Din is okay but this isn't that. You take the opportunity Tex has given and run back to the Chimera.

Back in your room, you throw yourself onto your unmade bed and stare at the ceiling wondering what the fuck just happened.

Don't be too mad at Din, we'll get an explanation sooner rather than later here...

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💕 feel free to jump in my ask box too!

Everything: @radiowallet @pilothusband @max--phillips @starlightmornings @moonlight-prose @practicalghost @sharkbait77 @honestly-shite @shadesofnerdlygrace @salome-c @artsymaddie @katronautt @magikfanatic @astoryisaloveaffair @tintinn16 @mswarriorbabe80 @phandoz @amneris21 @tenderwhat @asta-lily @chaoticgeminate @snarwor @stardust-galaxies @readsalot73 @xoxabs88xox @harriedandharassed @alexxavicry @alwaysdjarin @karlawithacapitalk @silver-pieces

The Distance:

@girlofchaos @elinedjarin @fennccshand @balekanemohafe @jazzelsaur @jessiceezy @daddydindjarin

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #crasis writes #the distance

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