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i-like-blue-eyed-robots · 2 months ago

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Wheatley has ADHD

It’s a common enough occurrence that it probably deserves its own trope — aliens, robots and any other nonhuman character almost always end up with autistic traits. It’s because writers take a nonhuman character and go ‘well, how do I make this character register as nonhuman, but still human enough that audiences will like them?’ And the answer is making them neurodivergent. I’m not personally inclined to say that this is a good or a bad thing, though I can see how it might be taken that way.

However, some authors like myself do it intentionally, to demonstrate how neurodivergent people can end up ostracized.

Some examples of common traits that are autistic-coded and writers give to nonhuman characters are as follows:

-difficulty understanding metaphor, sarcasm or exaggeration

-overly blunt in communication

-unawareness of others emotions/incorrect reaction to said emotions

-difficulty realizing their own emotions

-need for a strict schedule in order to be happy

Of course, there’s more out there, but I’ve seen these pop up quite a lot.

However, the Portal series’ fantastic writing team did not follow these stereotypes with their robots, and that’s what I would like to cover today.

I would go over GLaDOS in relation to this idea, like she clearly understands sarcasm, but she doesn’t quite fit for reasons that would be obvious to anyone who’s played through Portal 2. I’m here to talk about Wheatley, the other main robot we get to know in Portal 2.

Wheatley is not autistic coded. He has no problem speaking to strangers or making eye contact. He enjoys sarcasm almost as much as GLaDOs, and so on and so forth.

However, Wheatley is most definitely neurodivergent-coded, and it’s fascinating because for once, maybe for the only time ever in popular media that I’ve ever noticed, a robot is adhd-coded instead of being autistic-coded.

What do I mean by that? First of all, if you haven’t finished Portal 2 go do it now. It’s relatively cheap on Steam and it’s amazing. Moving on — it all stems from what we’re told Wheatley is, during the betrayal scene with GLaDOS. Now to preface this, GLaDOS is a liar. You can take most of what she says with a grain of salt. But, what she says is all we have officially to go off of.

To add further context to this line, the personality cores or “Aperture Science Personality Constructs” (the line of robots that Wheatley is a part of) were specifically built in order to be plugged into GLaDOS’ systems to slow her down and to keep her from killing everyone in Aperture. In the first Portal game, Chell, the player character, incinerates the four ‘successful’ cores that supposedly were the last ones needed to stop GLaDOS. However, given that the character has to travel through an empty facility to do so, it’s clear that they weren’t nearly as successful as the engineers had thought. Later, as core after core was built and none of them worked to stop GLaDOS, Aperture was needing robot maintenance of some kind since all of their human faculty were being killed, fired due to financial ruin, and/or quitting, and so the personality constructs were repurposed to try and keep the facility from falling apart.

Aside from GlaDOS and Wheatley, we don’t see any “non-corrupted” cores. And even both of them are corrupted, with GLaDOS being 80% corrupted and Wheatley assumedly 25%, after doing some quick math of the boss fight. This would normally affect my ability for confident analysis, but luckily in this case I don’t need them to prove that good ol Wheatley is adhd-coded.

Because right from the get-go, “generating an endless stream of terrible ideas” sounds pretty damn adhd to me, as someone who has both inattentive and hyperactive adhd myself. Now, that’s not to say every idea a person with adhd has is a bad one. That’s not even the case with Wheatley, despite it being what we’re told, because again, GLaDOS is an unreliable narrator. It’s Wheatley’s ideas that keep her from killing Chell with turrets or neurotoxin. He’s the one who gets Chell to dismantle those systems. Those are clearly not bad ideas.

But what about other adhd traits? Having an endless stream of ideas isn’t even on a symptom list of being adhd, it’s usually just a side effect of everything else going on. Well, Wheatley has plenty of them.

Hyperactive-type adhd symptoms include but are not limited to;

-fidgeting

-excessive physical movement

-excessive talking

-impulsive behavior

-restlessness/impatience

Oh but how can a robot ball fidget or have excessive physical movement, you may ask. Well. This is the most expressive ball I have ever seen in my life. Wheatley is constantly moving, shifting panels, popping his eye out, spinning in his casing and so forth. The excessive talking one is easy, my younger brother (also an adhd yapper, who has no room to talk) was trying to throw Wheatley over the railing into the bottomless pit beneath Aperture “because he was yapping” too much. This is unusual for a robot character (outside of the Portal series) whereas they tend to speak when spoken to. Wheatley is generally impulsive, but this is especially noticeable when he’s hooked up to the facility in the GLaDOS chassis. After PotatOS calls him a moron, he proceeds to punch her and Chell into the abyss below without thinking about it, reacting out of anger until he realizes they’re about to drop, right before they do. Interestingly, that sort of impulsive rage reaction is more often seen in monster characters, like perhaps a werewolf situation. It sort of adds to the framing that now Wheatley is in control of the facility, he has become something monstrous. Now, judging his patience level accurately is difficult, given that in the beginning he’s in a high-stress, deadly situation and later, when he’s in the chassis, he’s being affected by symptoms of drug withdrawal. However, he is impatient, such as when he’s playing the recorded sound of knocking on a door at the beginning. Granted, he’ll go on ‘knocking’ forever because it’s necessary for the story, but he speaks up every couple of minutes asking if you/Chell are going to open the door already. Again, this is unique for a robot character, as they tend to wait on a player or another character’s actions before responding to it, rather than initiating.

Impressively, these are not all the symptoms Wheatley demonstrates. There is another form of adhd, known as Inattentive-type adhd. The symptoms can include the following;

-Short attention span

-Overlooking details

-Careless mistakes

-Inability to stick to tedious tasks

-Difficulty organizing tasks

-Constantly changing tasks

-Difficulty listening to and carrying out instructions

For having a short attention span, this is again, difficult to determine for Wheatley in a normal setting. In the beginning he’s mostly able to focus, but he’s in a life-or-death scenario. However, he does ramble on about things that have no relevance to what he and the player character are doing, such as when he’s telling the player character about the many jobs he’s had around Aperture and been subsequently released from. He definitely has issues overlooking details, such as when he and Chell are supposed to be dismantling the neurotoxin facilities. While he’s busy ‘hacking’ a computer that may or may not even regulate the facility in the first place, Chell dismantles the generator and he doesn’t even realize she’s doing it at first, because he’s distracted listing off the hardware of the computer. As for careless mistakes, again, this could be simply the situation he’s in, but he definitely makes them. Like when he’s transporting the relaxation chamber in the first chapter, he runs into an unbelievable amount of other relaxation chambers, tearing Chell’s apart. Or even when he’s supposed to be guiding her around Aperture but he dips into wrong corners and has to recorrect. He most visibly has difficulty with tedious tasks when he’s in the chassis, as the facility is literally falling apart because he didn’t bother reading the manual or taking care of the massive amount of upkeep the facility requires. But again, he’s suffering symptoms of drug withdrawal as well that could be affecting his ability to do that. However, given his descriptions of his job loss, mentioned above, we can gather that this is likely an issue he had before ever being a part of the core transfer. This also is in line with difficulty organizing tasks. As for constantly changing tasks, again, he has somewhat better focus in the beginning because if he doesn’t he’ll die, and later he’s exceptionally distracted by a need to test. But even when he should be consumed with the need to test, and he does watch Chell for most of it, he does stop watching randomly at times to do… Who knows what. When it should be the only thing he can focus on. As for difficulty listening to and carrying out instructions, again, the facility falls apart and Wheatley kept being fired for similar, if not the same reasons.

So. That covers basic symptoms and how Wheatley fits pretty much all of them. But, a lesser known side effect of adhd is that it can easily lead to the development of other neurodivergent disorders such as anxiety and depression. Adhd is also linked to something known as emotional dysregulation. Wheatley clearly exhibits signs of anxiety. He’s terrified of dying, and says as much at several points. Not only is he especially scared of dying, but he’s scared of judgment, too. He’s constantly trying to seem more important or smarter than he is, and even though Chell is a silent protagonist, when he takes over the facility before being affected by the testing withdrawals, he assumes she’s been secretly plotting against him the entire time. Depression is more difficult to spot in Wheatley, as he’s not lethargic, but, again, a high-stakes situation can allow a person to mask their symptoms for a brief period out of self-preservation.

However, I do want to point out he clearly displays emotional dysregulation, and not in the way one might expect from a robot character. Wheatley is exceptionally sensitive to criticism. When GLaDOS begins her spiel about him being an intelligence dampening sphere, he moves as far away he can from her, turning his back so he doesn’t have to look at her. He even goes so far as to say “Not listening!” while she’s saying it. Then when she calls him a moron, he reacts violently, in a way he hadn’t so far in the game before that moment. He smashes her through the glass of the elevator and then, when she proceeds to call him a moron again, is when he smashes PotatOS and Chell into the pit. However, he doesn’t even need to even be actively insulted to react to perceived insults as just as much of a threat to his psyche. As mentioned earlier, despite Chell being a silent protagonist, and in some ways because Chell is a silent protagonist, Wheatley assumes that she’s been plotting against him from the start. Her perceived attacks against him are most especially notable during the boss fight. He points out that she’s always quiet, assuming that she’s “silently judging” him. He points out that she didn’t catch him when he fell off of his management rail in the beginning, and that she didn’t warn him that she was the one who killed GLaDOS.

All in all, Wheatley is a beautifully three-dimensional character, not in spite of being a robot, but rather, in some ways, because of it.

#I mayyyy come back and edit this some more later #but for now have this #English major strikes back #chell portal #wheatley portal 2 #portal 2 #character analysis #adhd coded

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xray-vex · 2 months ago

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Thinking about this and how there are certain people claiming to be fans of OFMD who complain, rather loudly and repeatedly, there is no chemistry between Ed & Stede, and/or that their kisses had no passion, etc.

This leads me to believe that there are several possible explanations for how those people might have reached that conclusion:

1.) The people complaining have a hard time reading body language/facial expressions, so they literally can't perceive it

2.) The people complaining hate the main ship: they don't like Ed and/or Stede and/or their relationship, or the fact that their head canons for the show didn't become canon and are still upset about it, and are therefore in denial about the chemistry between Ed and Stede and refuse to see it.

3.) They are somehow from an alternate universe that has overlapped a little bit with the one most of us are in, and they literally didn't watch the same show because they watched the OFMD from their universe, not ours.

In all of the above cases, though -- the people who insist that Ed & Stede had no chemistry are just wrong. It's not really an opinion. So, based on these ideas, either:

1.) They're drawing an incorrect conclusion based on their inability to interpret body language (***and there no shame in that in & of itself, not everyone has that skill set) -- However, not being able to perceive something doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Humans can't perceive ultraviolet or infrared light naturally, either. Those things still exist even if you can't see em.

2.) They're choosing to draw their conclusions based on their dislike of/disappointment in the show, and therefore willfully ignoring the evidence presented in the text (the show itself). -- If you want to argue a point and be taken seriously though, you have to provide adequate evidence. And their various arguments just aren't convincing. (I could expand upon how it's also much more difficult to prove that something doesn't exist, but I've already written way more than I intended to for what was gonna just be a short rant).

3.) If they literally watched a different, alternate universe version of OFMD, then they're not gonna convince anyone in this universe that 1+1=3 like it does in their universe. Maybe that's correct math in their universe, but that's not how it works here.

Here's the thing -- and I'm gonna use a simple example here. You can say that you don't like cilantro. You can hate it, you can be disgusted by it, especially considering that it might taste like soap to you. And that's ok! But you don't get to make the claim that it doesn't enhance the flavor of other foods/dishes in a positive way or that many people think it's yummy.

So take this simple advice, would you? You can just say "This isn't for me" and just not eat it. You don't get to say "This is bad and I'm going to keep pushing my thoughts about it onto people who do enjoy it, even while they're eating it, because I need to convince everyone to hate it too." That's not an opinion, that's just being a fucking dick. Go join your local chapter of the Cilantro Hater's Club and complain about it there with other like-minded people, and let the rest of us enjoy our cilantro in fuckin peace. And don't be surprised if we shut the door in your face (muting/blocking) when we're sick of hearing how much you hate something we love.

#ofmd meta #our flag means death #edward teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd s2

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solarwonux · 8 months ago

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Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off.

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers.

Maybe things weren't really looking up.

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up.

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks.

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final.

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test.

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse.

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day.

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called.

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again.

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook.

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student.

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months.

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe.

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you.

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.”

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee.

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.”

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink.

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles.

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship.

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers.

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break.

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck.

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years.

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles.

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles.

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit.

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in.

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe.

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side.

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.”

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea.

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance.

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page.

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?”

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.”

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.”

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.”

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page.

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture.

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes.

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago.

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not.

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him.

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure.

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion.

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up?

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between.

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong.

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders.

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion.

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room.

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned.

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.”

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders.

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest.

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit.

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you.

For what?

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out.

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion.

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point.

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.”

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.”

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you.

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling.

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue.

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet.

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too.

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?”

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?”

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him.

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head.

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.”

“I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?”

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates.

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him.

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.”

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side.

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end.

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “

“Who?”

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort.

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space.

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back.

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years.

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it.

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now.

He cares.

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has.

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage? Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved?

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other.

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing.

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same.

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble.

You're his girlfriend now.

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too.

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one.

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room.

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him.

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you.

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one.

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand.

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.”

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks.

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.”

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face.

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away.

Your big “what if.”

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love.

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt.

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures, his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder.

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt.

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste.

He could never wait. And he never did.

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks.

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine.

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub.

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment.

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop.

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment.

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again.

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows.

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.”

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees.

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything.

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest.

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end.

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him.

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on.

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.”

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart.

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.”

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.”

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?”

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs.

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt.

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head.

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room.

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment.

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy.

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up.

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses.

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book.

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds.

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.”

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book.

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list.

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for?

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.”

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book.

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood.

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.”

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff.

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?”

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate.

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.”

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.”

If only it were that easy.

“I’d love to but he never has time.”

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter.

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–”

“No, I’m not busy now.”

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous.

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground.

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you.

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table.

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying.

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.”

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.”

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.”

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public.

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?”

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder.

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.” You add bitterly.

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.”

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.”

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.”

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.”

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist.

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table.

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?”

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?”

“No but it was basically implied.” You emphasize.

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner.

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket.

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside.

Namjoon is happy.

His friends are happy.

Things in his life were finally looking up.

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders.

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side.

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too.

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

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stormz369 · 2 months ago

Text

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 18

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: use of mommy/mama as a pet name (non-sexual), vague talk about troubled childhoods, sort of a found-family thing?, brief encounter with a grocery store Karen wc: 2.7k Disclaimer: I am very white, everything I write about Damian's cultural background is coming from 1) internet research on Damian 1.5) pestering my comic reader friend about Damian/Talia/Ra's al Ghoul (but so far he's basically said that DC really does stand for Disregard Canon, so I can reasonably do whatever works for my narrative and it'll be canon friendly somewhere) and 2) internet research on Arabic cultural practices/foods/etc.

I always endeavor to write about others' cultures with respect or not at all, and to put in an appropriate amount of research to get details as right as possible. That being said, I am human, and don't always know what to look for to get the information I need. If you know that something I've included is culturally incorrect please do feel free to tell me (if you have the emotional bandwidth)! I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to me that I write about Damian's Arabic heritage correctly and with respect, and any rewriting/research guidance offered will always be greatly appreciated and credit given where due! If you wish to provide feedback anonymously, feel free to send them as asks, but please do include an emoji or something I can use to credit you for your emotional labor in the applicable chapters! And thank you in advance! This is where I got the info about ma'amoul cookies, if anyone is interested!

Chapter Selection

I woke sandwiched between the boys; Jason's arms were wrapped around my waist, and Damian's back was pressed into my chest. I smiled softly, gently stroking his hair. He groaned softly and flipped around, cuddling into me.

Jason shifted, stroking my side. “Mh … morning~”

“Morning~” I whispered, smiling softly.

He sat up, stretching a bit. “... He looks downright peaceful with you…”

“Like he feels safe?”

“… Yeah. … I'm glad you can give him that. … He's been through alot.”

I nodded, stroking his hair more. “I can tell. … I like letting him be a kid.”

Jason nodded, leaning over to kiss my temple. “I think he likes it too. … I'll make breakfast~”

I nodded, holding Damian close. He sighed softly, snuggling in more. Eventually, the smells of breakfast cooking wafted into the room, and Damian's eyes slowly fluttered open. The instant he realized how close we were he darted back, almost falling off the edge of the bed. After a moment he looked away awkwardly, clearing his throat.

“... Um … th- thank you, for … everything.”

I nodded, sitting up. “Of course. Anything you want to do today?”

He frowned a bit. “... Is Todd working tonight?”

“I think so. You wanna do something fun when he goes?”

“... If you don't mind?”

“I don't mind.” I smiled softly. He flushed a bit, smiling into his chest.

“Ok … Thanks.”

I nodded, stretching. “Jay's making breakfast.”

He nodded, getting up and grabbing his clothes. I checked my phone, frowning a bit when I saw that Bruce had texted.

Bruce: Is Damian alright? 9:05am Me: Yes, he's ok 10:45am Bruce: Jason said one of his teachers said something about him? He said you were very upset about it. 10:48am Me: Yes, the math teacher. It was inexcusable, and I made sure she knew it. Jason got him switched into a new math class, so it shouldn't be a problem anymore 10:49am Bruce: Very good. … Jason also mentioned that Damian seemed to think he had to let them talk about him like that? 10:53am Me: He thought calling them out qualified as misbehaving 10:55am Bruce: … I'll speak to him when he gets home. Obviously I don't want him to put up with that. 10:57am Me: … Maybe not so obviously. I think he was worried about disappointing you. He seemed more concerned with how dealing with it would affect you publicly than with how it was affecting him to hear it 11:00am Bruce: … I'll fix this. 11:02am

I sighed softly. Somehow I doubted Bruce could fix it just like that. I changed into some casual clothes and joined the boys in the kitchen. Jason slid a few pancakes onto a plate for me and kissed my cheek.

“Thanks, pumpkin~”

Damian snorted softly, smirking at Jason. “... ‘Pumpkin’?”

I smirked back, leaning forward; “careful, kiddo. I can think of plenty of fun nicknames for you too, my little jellybean~”

He grimaced. “Ugh..”

“No? You don't like that? How about cutie patootie? Angel pie? Honey-bunch?”

Damian groaned, shaking his head. “Nooo! Gross!”

Jason chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Ok, mama, he's had enough.”

Damian froze, frowning. His walls shot right back up, and his voice was sharp; “... She is not my mother.”

“And thank God for that.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Your mother's a real piece of work. Trade up while the trading's good.”

Damian frowned more, staring into his plate. “... Mother is a … complicated woman. But she's my mother.”

My heart ached at how carefully he said it. Complicated was the nicest thing he could think to say about her? “... I'm sure she loves you, kiddo.”

Damian's jaw clenched as he nodded. “Yes, she does.”

Jason frowned a bit. “... In her way.”

We spent the weekend in a domestic bubble; we cooked together, watched movies, played games, and after Jason went to work Damian and I played with his craft kits. Watching him relax into the little family unit we established for ourselves almost made me wonder if he really was starting to view me as a maternal figure. I didn't mind if he was, but I wasn't sure how much I should lean into it. As with most things with Damian, I decided it was best to let him set the pace.

The next Friday night, Damian came over again. Jason sighed, rolling his eyes affectionately when he saw Damian at the kitchen table. “Do you have my girl playing mommy again?”

Damian blushed bright red, glaring at him. I raised an eyebrow, staring at Jason. “I told him he could come over, Jason.”

I set a plate of cookies on the table and a glass of milk. “You just finish your homework, kiddo. And don't burn yourself on the cookies, they're still hot.”

Damian nodded, taking one. Jason leaned over to grab one as well, but before he could I gently smacked his hand and grabbed his shirt, leading him into my room. “Not yet.”

He frowned, following along. “What? What'd I do?”

I shut the door, turning to face him. “Jay, my love, when you say things like that you make it harder for him to relax. You said yourself, he's been through alot; if he wants a taste of the nuclear family life, I'm happy to baby him all he wants. If he wants to come over every weekend I'll make cookies and ‘play mommy’, as you put it. And I don't want you making him feel weird about it. Ok?”

He shifted a bit, looking down at his feet. “Right, … sorry baby. It was just a joke…”

“I know, but he's still getting used to the idea that this is ok. Sometimes I think he expects to be punished for asking for things. I had to convince him to tell me what kinds of cookies he likes best. And he looked so surprised when I said we'd go to the store tomorrow for the ingredients I don't have. Like he thought it was a hypothetical question.”

Jason sighed, nodding. “He probably did…”

I nodded, gently cupping his cheek. “Just be gentle with him, ok? … Remember, if I'm playing mommy for him, I'm also playing house-wife for you~”

He blushed a bit and chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist. “That sounds nice~ … you gonna wear a cute little apron and serve breakfast in bed?”

“Only if I manage to get up before you. Sometimes I think you don't sleep at all.” I chuckled, kissing him softly. He kissed back gently and smiled softly, nodding.

“Mh~ ok, mama, I'll play nice~”

I chuckled softly, kissing him again. “Good boy~”

The flash of red across his face made me giggle, and I led him back out of the bedroom. “Now you may have a cookie. And I'm making stir-fry for dinner.”

Damian looked up at me as I passed; “is it…”

I nodded; “vegetarian. And I think I finally figured out how to get that nice crispy layer on the tofu too!”

His lips curled up ever so slightly, he nodded once, and returned to his homework. Jason sat next to him, taking a cookie, and looked over his shoulder at his homework. “... New math teacher treating you ok?”

“It’s only been a week, but … Yeah, he seems like a nice guy so far. And word of the ‘crazy art show lady' has spread throughout the faculty.” I smirked a bit at that. I could be ‘crazy art show lady' if it made them think twice about disrespecting him.

Jason nodded. “Good.”

When I brought out dinner, Damian practically inhaled his first few bites. I blinked a bit, chuckling softly. “Don't choke, kiddo.”

He nodded, slowing down a bit. Periodically, I'd catch him staring at his backpack. “... You need something outta there?”

He flushed, shaking his head. “No, just … Jon is waiting for me to finish dinner.”

“Oh, I don't have a ‘no phones at the table' rule, kiddo. You can text your friend.”

He blinked repeatedly. “... I can?”

“Yeah, I don't mind. It would be pretty hypocritical if I did; I never go anywhere without my phone.”

Damian smiled a little and got his phone, texting Jon quickly. His guarded expression slowly melted away, and I had to remind myself not to stare before he caught me.

“... Do you want to invite him over some time?”

Damian looked up, frowning a bit. “Invite Jon over … here?”

“Yeah, you two could have a sleepover in the living room.”

“... Could we go to the arcade at the mall?”

“Sure! As long as his parents are ok with it. And give them my phone number in case they want to talk to me first, or need to check in.”

Damian grinned, nodding, and texted Jon quickly. “... Next weekend?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Damian stared disdainfully at the wall of flour, scouring it for the kind needed for his cookies. Eventually, he grabbed a small bag, bringing it back to me.

“That's the one?”

He nodded slowly, frowning. “... I'm not used to looking for it in English, but this should be right.”

I nodded, gesturing for him to put it in the cart. “Ok, is that gonna be enough?” He nodded, releasing it. “What’s next?”

“Ghee.” He grabbed the corner of the cart and led me down the aisle, finding what he needed. He tsked softly at the container, but tossed it into the cart as well before leading the way to the spices. He selected several extracts, rose water, and a few spices I was low on.

“Alright, what else?”

“Dates, figs, pistachios, and walnuts.”

We scanned the aisles, eventually finding what we needed, and headed for the check-out counter. The way Damian watched the cashier and me had me wondering if he had ever been to an American grocery store before. I bagged the groceries, chatting with the cashier a bit.

The lady behind us in line glowered at Damian. He frowned, eyeing her for a moment, before continuing to watch the check out process. She huffed, rolling her eyes; “aren't you going to help, young man?”

I frowned, turning toward her. “Hey, leave him alone.”

I held a hand out for him, gesturing for him to come close. He frowned, taking a couple steps toward me.

She frowned more, looking more and more like she bit into a lemon. “I'm just saying, good boys don't just stare while others do the work.”

“No one asked you, lady. Back off.” I let my hand hover over his shoulder for a moment, not touching him but clearly indicating that he was under my protection. He glanced at my hand before looking up at me. “Should I do something?”

“No, kiddo, you're fine. We're just about done, and I would ask if I wanted help.”

He smirked slightly, watching me put my wallet away and grab the bags. He pulled the cart to the cart return and we headed out, strolling back to our bus stop. After a moment, he reached over and took the bag from one of my hands.

I smiled softly, letting him have it. “Don't let people like her bother you, ok? They're just grumpy that my generation doesn't expect kids to read our minds.”

He frowned a bit, staring at the sidewalk in front of him. “... That was common, in older generations?”

“Mh, yeah, I think so. My grandparents always had something to say about how my parents ‘coddled’ us. And my parents sure have a lot to say about how new parents are ‘babying’ their kids with the newest theories and parenting practices.” I chuckled; “as if there's something wrong with babying a literal baby?”

“... Back home, I was expected to behave just like the rest of the household. No matter my age.”

I nodded slowly. “Different cultures approach parenting differently, I suppose.”

“... I think in my case it's more of … my mother's approach to parenting.”

“Ah…”

He stared at a spot in front of him, frowning deeply; “... She loves me, she just … she had a … complicated life. … She did the best she could for me.”

I nodded. “... Parents are people. And people are flawed. Loving them doesn't mean we have to pretend they haven't hurt us, or that we have to forgive them for the bad parts of our childhood. … It's very mature of you to keep her experiences in mind like that. But you're also allowed to be upset.”

“... Upset?”

“It sounds like a classic example of ‘I had it bad, but my parents had it worse'. But you're still entitled to your feelings about your childhood. The good and the bad. … Children are supposed to be protected and cared for, but some kids … just don't get to have that. You're allowed to mourn the childhood you should have had. And you're allowed to seek out those experiences now.”

“... Like the craft kits?”

“Exactly. I bet it’s freeing, being able to just play, right?”

He nodded slowly. “... It is. … It's nice, not worrying about what people will think, or do. … You … you don't make a big thing about it.”

“Because it doesn't have to be a big thing if you don't want it to be. You get to decide what matters in this, and who's involved.”

He nodded slowly. “... Mother would be furious, if she knew Todd has been joking the way he has.”

“Joking?”

“... About you playing mommy.”

“Ah. I can make him stop if it makes you uncomfortable… But I also don't mind it if you don't.”

“... I will think on it.”

When the bus arrived we hopped on, finding a seat. Damian stared out the window, clutching his bag. At our stop I had to gently tug on the bag handles to pull him out of his thoughts, and we headed up to my apartment.

“Ok, remind me what the cookies we're making are called?”

“Ma’amoul. Mother made them for holidays…”

I smiled softly and nodded. “Well, I hope they'll live up to your memories then.”

We worked together to make the cookies, Damian staying practically underfoot to make sure they came out just right. The molding and filling process took quite a while, but we plowed through, slowly working out a rhythm. He hovered, watching them in the oven, until they were finally ready.

I carefully transferred them to a cooling rack and he immediately took one, breaking it in half. He looked it over, sniffing it a bit, and finally took a bite, chewing slowly. I watched, biting the inside of my lower lip a bit. “... What do you think, kiddo?”

He stared at the half of a cookie in his hand, his expression unreadable. Finally, he mumbled; “... Well, they're very ugly. … But they taste like home.”

I smiled softly, holding my arms behind my back to stop myself from pulling him into a hug. “I'm glad. And I'm sure the next batch will be prettier. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“The next batch?” He looked up at me curiously.

“Of course. You said they're your favorites.”

He flushed a bit and stared at the cookie in his hands again, nodding. “Yes, they are.”

“Then I'm gonna get good at this so you can have them more often.”

After a moment, he reached over to grip my elbow, gently squeezing before dropping his hand again. It was over as quick as it began, but I felt his warmth linger on my arm. I smiled softly, holding an arm out for him. He considered for a second before leaning in, letting me give him a quick shoulder squeeze.

“I'm glad you're happy with them, sweetheart. Why don't you go sit, and I'll bring you a plate and a glass of milk? And when the rest are cool we'll put them in a tupperware for you to take home.”

He nodded, nibbling on the rest of his cookie while I made up a plate for him. We sat on the couch, letting some dumb action movie fill the silence while we enjoyed the fruits of our labor.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

#fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc #jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #first person pov #wayne family adventures #damian wayne #multichapter fic #no y/n #Can I Get Your Number?

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bestworstcase · 4 months ago

Note

Your thoughts about Salem possibly intentionally ascending to be what is essentially a Grimm Faunus makes me think:

I wonder if Salem chose to ascend to become a Grimm because she believed Grimm were endless beings that could endure her current nightmare better than anything else. Instead, the end result of that ascension was finding out that the Grimm weren't just eternal manifestations of evil like she and many others were led to believe by the God of Light, but rather independent living creatures with their own unique morality system who could live and die like anything else. I'd imagine such a revelation would only further sour her on the God of Light, because she'd basically realize that the Grimm were just another victim of the God of Light's existential crisis.

oh i don’t think she On Purpose set out to turn herself into a grimm. for one thing, the lost fable is an unreliable narrative in a really specific way: jinn answer’s ruby’s question exactly, this is information ozpin knows or believes to be true and actively chose to hide from the kids. none of it is new information to oz—so how does he know what salem did during the parts when he wasn’t there?

salem told him.

thus, any factual incorrectness during these parts of the story must be the result of either:

salem outright lying to him, or

ozma misinterpreting what she said, or

ozma making baseless assumptions to fill in the gaps of what was (given how long ago it all was and how long she was alone) quite likely an incoherent story.

now generally speaking i believe that salem hesitated for some time before telling him of her involvement in the rebellion but otherwise told ozma the truth, because the text supports this (she “blamed the end of the world on the gods,” rightly), because she has no reason to lie about what the gods did, and because the thematic narrative requires that the lost fable be a biased account of real events, not a complete fabrication.

anyway, the point is:

If the fountain of life granted her immortality, then surely, the pools of Grimm will finally take it away… She was wrong. This force of pure destruction could not destroy a being of infinite life, so it created a being of infinite life with a desire for pure destruction.

jinn ascribes a specific motivation to salem’s choice to drown herself in the pool of grimm, and states that salem’s reasoning proved to be wrong. this passage, like the rest of the lost fable, articulates what ozpin believes—but i think this is his misinterpretation of something salem told him when she recounted this part of her story.

she says, “the fountain gave me infinite life. i thought the pool of grimm would take it from me.” he hears, “i was trying to kill myself.”

but what i think she meant was, “i thought the death in the pool and the life in my soul would mix together. maybe it would kill me, i didn’t know or care, but isn’t that how the brothers made us? darkness brought you back to life, and he called that creation, and i wasn’t thinking clearly because i was going insane from isolation but i thought that maybe if i sacrificed myself i could bring everyone back.”

she says, “i didn’t expect to become this, but of course one can’t destroy creation, so it changed me.” and he hears “i was mistaken, and now i’m cursed.”

because the thing is, as i’ve noted before, if you take away from an infinite quantity, an infinite quantity remains – because ‘infinite’ does not mean incomprehensibly big number, it means numberless, countless, boundless. so was salem suicidal, or was she doing math?

what happens if you take some life from infinite life? where does what is taken go?

she returned to the place where, millions of years ago, she’d seen the fearsome god of destruction claim the powers of creation as his own after bringing a dead man back to life. and then she poured INFINITE LIFE into the dark well of that god’s power which still, she’d seen, continued to birth living creatures long after the gods had gone.

what was she trying to do?

just die?

…or claim the powers of her creators in order to bring the world back to life?

the results being her own transformation plus animal people is probably not what she expected to happen, exactly, but – certainly it is an improvement over her previous circumstances and so i doubt she had any complaints, until humans proliferated and began to persecute the faunus.

the question of whether salem, in the grimm pool, did or didn’t experience ascension in the literal sense – as in, meeting the blacksmith and being given the choice to “choose for yourself one who could leave your burdens behind, or choose one who’ll be enough to bear them” – is a secondary but also interesting question.

i’m inclined to think that she did, and that’s interesting, because if true that implies salem had the chance to escape her curse – shed her old identity, leave all her memories behind, and be reborn new – and actively chose not to take it. and that’s so compelling because – why? what inspired her to refuse? to keep going? think about everything salem’s said about hope, that even the smallest spark can ignite change, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary, that hope is mankind’s greatest strength; think about how that hits if—

—these are the same picture.

and then there’s ‘the shallow sea’:

“They didn’t do anything to us,” the people on the shore called. “The water hasn’t changed us. It has washed away the lies to reveal what we’ve always been, just under the surface. Our old forms were just a shallow disguise. This is who we are.” A few dozen more people on the boat were convinced. They dropped into the ocean, and though they transformed more slowly, by the time they stepped out of the water, they, too, had become their true selves and were welcomed onto the island.

like, think about what it says about salem for this to be how she sees herself, how she conceives of her transformation – that in becoming grimm she became more herself. true, we haven’t yet gotten hard confirmation that ‘the shallow sea’ is an allegorical account of salem’s metamorphosis, but the writing is on the wall. lol.

she’s the same person as before but she isn’t human, doesn’t feel human anymore, doesn’t want to be human. certainly there is a degree of trauma and isolation and dehumanization at work here, but at the heart of it – and this is why, i think, she chose to return as herself, if she found the blacksmith in the grimm pool – is this idea that her human-self was a ‘lie.’

the brothers made humans and made certain promises to humankind – light especially presented himself as a benevolent adjudicator who invited people to come before him, pray to him, worship him. they made salem. she believed in them. trusted them.

and in the end, they destroyed the whole world to spite her. the last thing either of them said to her was to blame her for the massacre they committed (light) and mock her for “still demanding things of [her] creators” (dark) – so why would she ever consider herself human again? why would she do them the courtesy of calling herself their creation?

cause here’s the thing – notionally, they made humankind to settle their differences. to make peace with each other. humans were the symbol and seal of the brothers’ harmonious coexistence, and salem proved the lie, and then she went ‘fuck you both’ and created herself: a person, a grimm, the living breathing combination of the waters of life and death, light and darkness, that the brothers refused to intermingle. she proved them wrong.

salem is not the one who sowed division between them.

they separated creation from destruction and enforced that dividing line with horrific violence. salem is the one who, left behind in the ruin of their world, brought the sundered halves of destruction-and-creation back together to create herself, and in doing so created a new world.

she isn’t the flawed human who disrupted the delicate balance and ruined the world forever. she’s not the divider. salem is the balance. the unity of opposites. the very embodiment of what mankind was meant for!

and they hated her for it! the god of light intends to wipe out remnant from existence to punish her because she saw through his lies about how the world was meant to be and revealed the truth he’s afraid of.

and yeah grasping that the grimm are not ontologically evil is a part of that (and i have no doubt also factors in her hatred of the huntsman academies because she knows humans and grimm can coexist with each other – evernight itself is proof of that.) but i think it’s less significant than the union she achieved, exposing the lie that creation and destruction are not one and the same.

#shakes her.#i hope she gets another soliloquy in v10

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