#this isn’t directed towards a group of people or anybody specific

[moths-in-a-coat]

i think more people need to be forced to be civil with people who have different ideologies then them

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP, since you're talking about it, plus explain why so many K-pop fans that got into K-pop through BTS dislike them so much after??

**

Hi Anon,

I imagine it’s similar to how people become antis of specific members and could be down to a whole host of things. Based on what I’ve seen, it’s these three things:

1. Dashed expectations

2. A bad experience in the fandom

3. Social influence or bandwagoning

I’ve said before that k-pop offers up the veneer of perfection but is actually extremely messy, cut-throat, and filled with distinct Korean cultural markers that could seem to Western foreigners as odd at best and stupid/deplorable in the worst case. Since BTS has the widest and furthest global reach, many of the people who get into k-pop through BTS are complete k-pop noobs who have no understanding of the history of the genre/industry, much less BTS’s history within the wider context of k-pop, and once those people get past the honeymoon phase they get to see how the sausage is really made… and they hate it. Lol.

Basically, the perfect expectations they have of BTS aren’t met because duh, and while I think this happens for practically everyone and is actually a good and expected thing, for certain types of people it kickstarts a chain reaction where they remain in k-pop spaces, absorb all kinds of narratives but can’t let go of BTS in some way or other. Something I've noticed since being into k-pop for (too many) years is that nobody who has ever come into contact with anything related to BTS has ever been able to stop keeping up with them. Not one. I've said before that Jimin is the perfect microcosm of everything BTS is, so they're the og 'once you Jimin you can't Jimout'. The BTS equivalent isn't as pretty syntax-wise, but you get the idea. So like a toxic ex-boyfriend who knows the relationship isn’t working for him anymore and even if he has a new boy/girlfriend, he can’t seem to stop Googling his ex, keeping up with what they’re doing. Maybe they shared a pet before breaking up and he uses that as the excuse to keep up with whatever his ex is up to. This might seem like a dramatic comparison to make after all we're just discussing music and fans and it's not that deep, but k-pop is different. Anybody who has made a fan account is already in too deep there's no point acting coy about it. So yeah, the way some people respond to unmet expectations is anger and/or dislike directed at the subject that failed to meet those expectations.

Another reason is bad experiences within the fandom, and the places you're guaranteed to have bad experiences are shooter, shipper, and solo stan spaces. Like if you're exposed to any of these spaces for a long period of time, just the mention of the word 'ARMY' is likely enough to induce vomit. In my opinion. I've seen worse behaviour from other fandoms at significantly bigger scales and in other generations, but the sort that has found its way into this fandom is ugly and self-destructive. So far the majority of this fandom has kept these factions in check, but lol, everything trends towards entropy hence the byline of this blog.

The third reason is banwagonning. A lot of people are very easily influenced by what people around them think. It's not always a bad thing, but sometimes it works in favour of BTS and other times it accomplishes the opposite effect. As BTS has become so big the group has eclipsed k-pop as a whole, reception to BTS from the wider k-pop space has become increasingly antagonistic, given the competitive nature of the space. So while people might discover k-pop through BTS, what they’ll also discover over time is that an overwhelming amount of k-pop stans have millions of reasons to hate BTS. So for the sorts of people who got into BTS because they thought BTS is popular, once getting into k-pop and entering an environment where BTS and fans of BTS are hated, these sorts of people are more likely to be influenced into disliking BTS.

[discotechque]

till my hand shook with the way I fear

pairing: abed nadir/nby! reader word count: 1.6k rating: T

me and abed have neurodivergent solidarity and for that, we would be besties. also the mc in this is specifically non-binary so whatever.

There's clear haze that settles over the bar, that's the first thing Abed realizes once he settles into the space. It's dim, like most bars are and he assumes that's the charm of places like these. Jeff and Britta are adults ( he is too but he's overlooked and therefore his opinion is mute ) so he follows their guidance. Watching from afar, observing their inebriated choices while downing another shot.

He doesn’t get the point of alcohol, much less bars, and it seems the whole point is to get pleasure after an initial sting. A sharp weight that lays in the back of one's throat before elation rips through you. Bourbon burns through him with too much consequence, gin coats his mouth with a bitter tang, and wine falls flat on his tongue.

Maybe it's his upbringing, he's never witnessed his father take a sip to this day, or the pressure that rushes to his frame when he's offered a drink. Abed understands the appeal of bars, it does not mean he shares the same sentiments to them. They're noisy little backend places where melancholic characters come to waste away their sorrows, typically finding pathetic people who drool over glass rims.

However, he is not pathetic ( even if his oldest friend is rounding his seventies and community college all seemed like a folly ) and he had never been overtly dripping with melancholy. So he stood by the small arcade game in the corner, unbothered and safe, until someone offered kindness.

And he takes miles of that even if all they've given was an inch because even if he isn't pathetic or melancholic, he is greedy. He likes eyes being on him because he has so many thought he wants to share with one mouth that can only do so much. Abed is not dumb, he knows what the man wants and how his friendly touches are slowly rising above his knee.

He knows what the man wants and isn't surprise at his outburst once learning that the feelings isn't reciprocated. There's streams of Mint Julep dripping from his jaw and lashes, softly mumbling about his love for Farscape before having it degraded. Abed knows he deserves it and was warned by Annie that people are sensitive ( but he is not held by the bounds of common decency or empathy no matter how hard he tries to keep his mouth shut. )

Then, he remembers the man's proposition ( the only reason someone would be interested in him ). He isn't familiar with being viewed as a sexual object and men weren't unwelcome in his eyes. Gay? Is he gay? Maybe something that exists within the unorthodox box that is sexual realization? The questions sound so foreign even within the echo chamber of his mind.

He's in a dingy bar celebrating his best friend's birthday, this is not a time for the sexual exploration of his subconscious ( although he saves the thought because he considers if not now then when ). The drink is seeping within his clothes, it's going to stick if he doesn't move. He needs to fucking move.

And he does, swiftly pulling himself away from the chair and heading towards the bathroom. Wherever that is, Shirley said it was in the far back and Annie said fair left. Yet, she meticulous as ever so what if she always assume her left is everyone's true left and Shirley is vague with her directions but it doesn't even seem to be enjoying her time here at all.

He's not enjoying it either if he's honest. His loose shit now sticks to his chest and he knows it would make sopping sounds if the man's glass was any larger. Jeff brought them here to celebrate because they're all adults and Troy deserves to have a birthday party in style but if all Jeff and Britta do it bicker, doesn't that make them children themselves? And if he shares his companionship with them, does that make him and all the others children by association?

He's going nowhere with this train of though, this he knows but it can't ever seem to stop. His brain becomes a leaky faucet that can never be screwed back just right so it drips and drips just like the alcohol does along his jaw and lashes. Abed wants to go home but he's with his friends and it's his best friend's party and it'd be so rude of him to leave so soon. At least, that's what Annie tells him.

( Parties were far and few between when he was younger and even then, he cannot replace family functions for beings that truly care for him. )

But then he remembers you, nursing an iced tea in the corner because you are not interested in bestowing wisdom onto Troy that you do not have or participating in anybody's shenanigans. Bars are where people come to hook up or fuck up, you proclaimed on the car ride here, there's no in between.

Then he hears it, bursting against his ears as a smile splits across your face, a discotheque pop song that might be pleasant if it wasn't so overwhelming. His hand involuntarily taps against his thigh in tune with the rhythm. It helps sort out the sensations, the noise is different than the bland flavoring of water, and he knows what's what but it all feels the same in his mind.

Abed's eyelids shut, another involuntary tick he can never seem to shake, and his hand has created it's own beat. Rapid and rushed with no real rhyme or reason except for the fact that it's something that will tug his mind away from everything. ( It's the same thing he does when he's at the edge of a rollercoaster, it makes him safe. ) If everyone else can sway to a rhythm, why can't he?

"Hey," an unexpected voice softly call out to him ( tenderness within this group almost borders on unnatural ). Abed slowly opens his eyes to see you, you call out to him. He feels his hands move away from his pants, tangled within your fingers instead as you gaze at him with earnest. "five things you can see?"

Your hands feel polished, no—plush. He's afraid that if his thumbs press too hard, he'll begin to meld into your being. That's a great idea for a movie, he thinks and he knows you've been his muse from time to time. Maybe it means something, he's not willing to deep any deeper.

His eyes scan the room for a brief second before he rattles off, "The wooden floors, the bartender, the door, the chair behind you, and Annie still trying to be a Texan."

Her accent still lingers within her mind, poor acting for someone so involved a role they've assigned for themselves. The though nearly amuses him but he's getting off track, he needs to focus on you. On the way your hands gently rub over his knuckles and needs to ignore this growing pit within his stomach on whatever that insinuates.

"Four things you can feel?"

"My feet against my shoes, my jeans against my legs, how hot my ears are, your hands."

You don't let go even after he's mentioned it, instead he receives a squeeze that sounds throughout his body. A continuous cycle the runs on until you ask him for something he can taste, he doesn't know what lingers within the crevices of his mouth. ( He'd want it to be you and licks his lips without a second thought. ) Yet, settles on the answer Mint Julep.

Something about thinking this way must be wrong, he shouldn't want to keep holding your fingers or gaze into your fervent irises. He shouldn't be attracted to someone like you and shouldn't be searching for so many reason on why he has to tear himself away from your presence. Still, shouldn't doesn't stop him from doing so.

Maybe his hands have melted into yours, it'd be a good excuse on why he can't bring himself to let go. The song changes again, how long has he been in this small little world with you?

"Hey, it's Mazzy Star, this fucks so hard." he's heard of this before, maybe you've shared it with him. It's less grating on his ears, smooth melodies being shifted on strings, and he watches you sway from the corner of his eye.

( He likes to be watched but something about you commands all his attention. )

Still shifting from foot to foot, you turn to him with a far more lax expression. Both shifting into familiarity as you ask, "You wanna sit down?"

"Not really," he shoots back suddenly but you're not perturbed at his fast response reflex. However, his heart sinks as the next words tumble from his lips. "but we can stand here and sway?"

You don't pull your hand away from his, instead, pressing into his fingers as you ponder a reply. Perhaps you think this isn't real as much as he presumes you'll humiliate him for even asking. But you don't and another smile splits down your features, large than the last one he saw from across the room.

"Of course, Abed Nadir has a genius idea. Let's do it."

You don't move him from this space you've cultivated with him. Instead, wrapping arms around his neck as he places them on your waist ( he never went to prom but this is better than any teenage fantasy ). Moving side to side, never shifting around in a circle but rather awkwardly figuring out a steady pace while his stares becoming fonder while the night grows.

Abed still doesn't get the point of bars but he can figure it out the next time he's here with you.

[beatricebidelaire]

the picture of jacques snicket and the dart

it started at the opera house.

****

The opera house is empty except for the four of them.

Kit and Bertrand are on one end, observing the space with their binoculars. Jacques is in the VIP box at the opposite end. He’s sitting in the second to left seat in the VIP box. The seat The Count usually sits at when he visits the opera.

On the stage is Beatrice, wearing a glamorous dress. She sees Kit’s binoculars focused on her, and winks in the direction, and does a spin.

Kit feels herself smile fondly, just a little.

Bertrand clears his throat.

“Shut up,” Kit says.

“Snicket, I didn’t even say anything,” Bertrand sighs. “Why is she on the stage again? Aren’t we here to prepare for the mission?”

“This is a rare chance for her to have all the stage to herself, there’s usually so many people here,” Kit says, defensive. “So what if we multitask a bit for tonight? We have a lot of time. Are you going to deprive her of that?”

“First of all, the last time someone who isn’t Beatrice tries to ‘multitask’ during missions preparations, you gave them a lecture on putting the organization first -”

“That was a group of new volunteers, just out of apprenticeship,” Kit interrupts, “they’re not capable enough yet and need to stay focused. We, on the other hand, can have a bit of flexibility.”

Beatrice does a ballet move on the stage. She’s indeed so very flexible, Kit thinks. In more ways than one.

“Second of all, you say ‘deprive’ as if anyone can ‘deprive’ Beatrice Baudelaire of anything,” Bertrand continues. “She’s Beatrice Baudelaire.”

Kit scoffs, “Careful there with your barely concealed jealousy.”

“I’m not jealous, just pointing out a fact,” Bertrand corrects her.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that while you try to find a way to get into my baby brother’s good graces,” Kit rolls her eyes. She turns the binoculars at Jacques in the VIP box now, and feigns the gesture of shooting a dart.

Jacques looks back at her, with a calm and almost bland expression.

“He’s so annoying,” Kit mutters. “Wish I had an actual dart here that I can shoot at his face.”

“Actually,” Bertrand says drily.

“Oh, you brought the darts?” Kit asks.

“Obviously,” Bertrand sighs. “We’re here to prepare for the mission, aren’t we? At least, I am.” His glance darts towards the stage.

“Give her a break,” Kit frowns. “Look, she doesn’t talk about this, but this can’t be easy for her. She’s … close with his family. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Bertrand says, voice clipped. “Which is why I don’t get why she wants to be on the mission at all. She wasn’t, in the initial plan. And then she requested to be part of it.”

“Well, additional manpower isn’t a bad thing,” Kit says.

“Sure, but she’s not very helpful to the mission, dancing on the stage,” Bertrand points out.

“As you said, she’s not originally on the mission,” Kit argues. “So does it really matter if she’s being helpful or not? Plus, this is’t a terrible sight to look at.” A very lovely sight, in fact. Beatrice dancing by herself on the wide stage to the empty seats, a performance only for the three of them. Or maybe just her, specifically, as Jacques isn’t looking at Beatrice’s performances and instead just sitting there, thinking about perhaps his fashion column or his Jerome Squalor, and Bertrand obviously doesn’t know how to appreciate beautiful things.

“If this were anybody else,” Bertrand narrows his eyes. “You would not be taking the same tone.”

“And? So what?” Kit demands. “Hand me those darts, B,” she says, but grabs the box of darts before he has a chance to hand it to her. She fishes one out of the box and aims it in Jacques’s direction. “Think I can get his forehead?”

As if he can hear what they’re saying - even though Kit thinks with this distance it should be hard, although perhaps not impossible since the rest of the opera house is empty - Jacques suddenly looks Kit right in the eyes and smiles condescendingly.

“Bastard,” Kit mutters, and sends the dart in her hand flying.

Jacques catches it and calmly pockets the dart in his trench coat.

“You know,” Bertrand says, there’s a barely concealed amused grin in his voice. “You’re twins -”

“Taking everything literally will not make my baby brother fall in love with you and abandon Beatrice,” Kit says. “So like, shut up.”

On the stage, Beatrice cheers, “Well shot, Kit!”

Kit’s suddenly glad that Beatrice is far away and likely can’t see her cheeks redden. “Thanks, Beatrice,” she calls out.

“Oh my god, K.”

“I said shut up, B. Give me another dart.”

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” Bertrand says.

“Why do you sound like we’re at some pub and I’m drunk? Also, now who’s not taking mission preparations seriously? This is important work, you know,” she says snidely.

“Well, you do seem to be drunk on Baudelaire’s compliments,” he says loftily.

“I am going to tell L that you’re a terrible influence he should stay away from,” she says.

“You know what, go ahead.”

“Oh fuck, that’s going to encourage him huh,” she scowls. “Well, I’m going to tell him you’ve become an even more boring rule-stickler than before, then.” She takes another dart and fires it.

It lands on Jacques’s nose this time.

On the stage, Beatrice cheers.

Kit jabs her elbow at Bertrand, “hey, B, get me the camera.”

He sighs, but hands her the camera anyway. “If J asks, this is all you and I didn’t do anything.”

“Coward, this is why L doesn’t like you, you know,” Kit says, quickly taking a picture just before Jacques takes the dart off and scowls at her. “Oh, this is excellent,” she says, sounding almost gleeful. “Do you think I can get Frank to hang the picture in the lobby of the hotel?”

“If he won’t, Ernest probably would,” Bertrand says.

“Yeah, but I can’t owe Ernest a favor,” Kit rolls her eyes. She pauses, and then turns to look at Bertrand.

“Okay, no -”

“But he’d do it if you ask,” she says.

“I’m not getting involved.” He scoffs.

“Ever the good student -” she drawls.

“If you’re going to reverse psycho -”

“That’s why L doesn’t like you, you know,” she says snidely.

“............... fine,” he scowls. “Give me that fucking photo.”

Kit smiles winningly.

“I hate you,” he says. “I just want that to be on the record.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever,” Kit says cheerfully.

****

“Beatrice,” Frank sighs. “How many times do I have to say it, you can’t just put decorations over the lobby as you please.”

“As much as I would love taking credit, this time it actually has nothing to do with me,” Beatrice pouts. She looks at him all wide-eyed innocence, and then suddenly grins, “But you can’t say you didn’t enjoy Jerome’s expression when he walked into the hotel and saw that.”

 “Who the hell is Jerome?”

“Squalor! The City’s 3rd richest gentleman! Do you not pay attention when I update you on Jacques’s love life?”

“Absolutely not,” Frank says flatly. “I don’t care if it’s you who put that there, but get it off. It’s bad for the business.”

“I’m going to tell Jacques you think his face is bad for the business,” Beatrice says.

“While you’re at it, tell him so is the beard, it’s awful,” Frank says. “Who told him it was a good idea?”

“I heard Jerome likes it,” Beatrice says.

“This Jerome sounds like someone with terrible taste,” Frank says. “Anyway, get the picture off, will you?”

“I’m not your secretary, you know.”

“Of course not,” Frank says. “My secretary will actually listen to me.” He sighs. “If you’re not going to be helpful, can’t you go bother someone else?”

Beatrice feigns hurt. “I can’t believe you consider me a bother.”

“Well, I absolutely do,” Frank says flatly. “So you better believe it.”

“You’re so boring, do you know that?” Beatrice asks.

“Thank you,” Frank replies. “Coming from you, I’d take that as a compliment.”

“It really isn’t,”  Beatrice says.

“And I really don’t care,” Frank tells her. “Now get out of my office.”

****

“Why is there a picture of Jacques Snicket hanging in the lobby? Are you guys trying to scare your guests away?” Esme asks.

“Yeah, I’m trying to ward off annoying financial advisors who demand luxury service without paying for it,” Ernest says. “Doesn’t seem to be working, though.”

“Very funny,” Esme sniffs. “Look, me being here is good for the hotel business. My fans flock to wherever I am.  You should thank me. Anyway, I need the presidential suite next week, Georgie’s in the city for a conference.”

“Ah, Dr. Orwell,” Ernest says. “My favorite associate.”

“I thought that’s me,” Esme drawls.

“You’re ranked above Olaf, how’s that?” Ernest asks.

Esme sniffs. “That’s such a low bar.”

“I don’t deny that,” he shrugs.

****

“Why is that picture in your office?” Jacques demands.

“It was in the lobby,” Frank says drily. “You should thank me for not allowing it to stay there.”

“Well, thank you,” Jacques says. “But you can just throw it away, really.”

“Nah, I think I like it here,” Frank shrugs casually, taking a dart from his table and shooting it at the picture. “My therapist says it’s good for my blood pressure to do this to vent my frustrations.”

“You do not have a therapist,” Jacques says. “None of us do.”

“Fine,” Frank says. “It’s still good for my blood pressure. Wanna try it?” He hands Jacques a dart.”

“No,” Jacques scowls. “I’m going to Jerome’s place.”

Frank shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

[therealvinelle]

Hi! I was reading through your meta (which is reeeeally interesting) and noticed you said you don't like Eleazar? I was wondering why that was?

Tumblr ate this ask when I had almost finished it and I hate everything. Also, thanks for the compliment, I’m really glad you like my things.

Now to try and remember what I wrote about Eleazar…

I think Eleazar is a disagreeable person whose gift wasn’t useful enough to warrant a place in the Volturi guard, and Aro jumped on the Carmen-shaped excuse to give him an honorable discharge.

To start with the gift, we see him use it twice and neither time is particularly impressive.

Siobhan Siobhan has the power of reality manipulation. Her gift is noticeable enough that Carlisle is certain she has it, so when he gets Eleazar and Siobhan in a room together he pulls Eleazar over to see if he was right. Eleazar squints at Siobhan. And he squints. Finally he says, «I’ve got nothing.» Now, gifts are an iffy, complicated matter everyone has their own theories about, but I think that at the end of the day we can all agree it’s a binary, you’re gifted or you’re not. Some gifts may be weak, but those are still gifts. And maybe someone will touch the gray zone of «is it a gift or is Johnny the vampire just really good at juggling?», but Siobhan has the power to manipulate reality, and she must do it a lot for Carlisle to have come to suspect it in the first place. She has a definitive and powerful gift. And even if I’m wrong about gifts being binary, if Eleazar wants to be useful to Aro he should still be able to say: Yes, this person has a gift, or no, this person does not have a gift. Sadly, he is not. When brought before Siobhan he says «She could have a gift, she could also not have a gift.» This means he hasn’t detected her gift, which is bad enough by itself. Being able to tell if someone has a gift or not should be a dealbreaker. The way he answers, though, that she could very well have a gift he doesn’t know about, makes it clear that people having gifts he couldn’t detect has happened enough for him to be open to the possibility that the gift there, and he can’t see it. In other words, Eleazar isn’t reliable for detecting gifts and will give Aro false negatives.

Bella This is an aside but as it’ll inevitably come up later in my blog I’ll just drop here that I think Bella’s gift is something more complex than a shield. She has prophetic dreams, hallucination!Edward, and there’s a weird inconsistency as to who is blocked by her and who isn’t. I think her gift is self-preservation, and the shield is one of its manifestations. Anyway, onto discrediting Eleazar. (I’ll be pretty closely paraphrasing what happens in chapter 31 of Breaking Dawn, but since the interaction goes on for several pages I’m not going to clutter this post by pasting all of it.) To his credit, he does notice Bella right away, and he identifies her as a shield based on the fact that he gets this sense of nothingness from her. This is all he can do, however, and I can’t stress that enough. He assumes that she can block Edward, but he’s shocked to learn that she can block Aro. He’s just as surprised that she can block Jane and Alec. He has to interview her to deduce exactly what her gift does, which again has nothing to do with his gift. Anyone could ask questions, in fact Aro found all this out two books ago, without the help of Eleazar. Eleazar then starts musing aloud about who-would-win in a Renata vs. Bella showdown (more on that later), which is as tactless as it is revealing. The guy genuinely doesn’t know, and it’s because he doesn’t understand their gifts well enough. Eleazar’s power means he can tell Bella that she has a gift, and he knows roughly what it is. He muses that usually he can’t even tell that much, which again is quite damning. He can’t tell her exactly what she does without a game of 20 questions first. She gives him more information than he gives her, which he then regurgitates back to her with slightly different wording, and everybody claps. «My god, Eleazar, you’ve done it again!» (No, really, this is pretty much what happens. Eleazar brought no new information to the table, yet he blew Bella and Edward’s minds.) It’s all fun and games to do this for Bella and Edward, as they for various reasons genuinely didn’t realize she had a gift. For Aro, who figured this one out on his own, one begins to wonder what Eleazar was bringing to the table.

Carlisle Bonus bullet point! I’ll make this one brief. I believe Carlisle in canon has a gift he’s unaware of (Yes, I have a post planned, but it will get ugly long so god knows when it’ll come), which makes him another one of Eleazar’s gift detection fails. In short, I think he’s extremely charismatic, able to win over anybody. To list a few examples - he has an extremely diverse set of friends who in Breaking Dawn are willing to lay down their lives for him, Jacob muses how his instinctive hostility around vampires doesn’t apply to Carlisle, and vampires are terrifying to humans (don’t be fooled by the movies, people) yet Carlisle is able to work as a successful doctor, meaning his patients don’t mind being exposed to a killing machine even when they’re at their most vulnerable. He’s able to keep his family of sociopaths in line. There’s not a single person in the Twilight ‘verse that dislikes him. (Billy and Caius excepted, but Billy has no direct exposure to him until late Eclipse, and Caius is responding to a coven that’s potentially threatening the Volturi) People are free to disagree with me on this one, but if I’m right (and I have a lot of book quotes as well as a theory on what gifts even are to back me up on this one. I’m right, damnit!) then Carlisle is another gifted vampire Eleazar failed to detect.

So. We’ve established that Eleazar’s gift will yield false negatives, and that he can’t tell you much about the gifts he does detect.

I think his power is to point out the obvious.

Which means that Aro’s eyelid was twitching slightly, but alright, Eleazar could still be useful.

Unfortunately, there is the matter of weighing up your pros with your cons.

The Volturi are, at the end of the day, a group of people who live in a commune together. Coven, guard, evil minions, call them what we like but they’re exposed to each other and some sense of agreeability is required. And Chelsea is not omnipotent.

More, I imagine that in a coven as large and old as the Volturi, they’ve developed a culture of their own. This means that newcomers will need social awareness and a willingness to fit in.

Eleazar, from what we see of him in Breaking Dawn, appears to lack both.

It’s in the way he speaks of the people he used to work with. It’s utterly impersonal. He tells us how their gifts work, no more and no less. When he speaks of Aro, he speaks only of actions Aro took and orders he gave, nothing about the man’s personality. Now, considering the context, he was speaking in a context where Jane’s thoughts and feelings were far from relevant, but it’s still notable.

Also notable is the fact that he has no issue contemplating a Renata vs. Bella scenario, even though this would mean the deaths of two people he worked with for years. Perhaps it’s a thought exercise, but it’s not a thought exercise I would have gotten into when it was days away from becoming reality. If Renata can’t deflect Bella’s power, she and Aro die.

I’ll put it this way - I don’t think he’d do a «who would win» like this involving Carmen.

At no point in the book does Eleazar show any concern for the eventuality that members of a guard he used to be a part of may get killed.

It seems he didn’t form personal relationships with the rest of the guard. I suspect he considered himself... if not quite above them, then still someone who could evaluate them. Their gifts is what he looked at in them. I also think it’s likely he asked Aro not to use Chelsea on him, which in turn would have made him stick out even more as there’s nothing making him and Volturi Guard Member X just click in the way I imagine Chelsea can be very helpful with. Which in turn means that the other guard members will feel close to one another in a way they’re not close to Eleazar.

Also… he’s just a douche. I’m sorry, but I don’t make the rules and the whole guy radiates douche. I can’t even point to a specific quote in the book, it’s just is.

I don’t think this guy never really fit into the Volturi guard, and his gift wasn’t useful enough to keep him. Aro was thrilled to have him at first, but as time went on and Eleazar proved to just not be all that, he eventually realized he had to get rid of him.

Because as others have pointed out before me, the Carmen excuse makes no sense. There would be no problem in one more vampire in the castle, yet Aro wouldn’t let her in and Eleazar had to choose.

It was a solution that sent Eleazar on his way with his ego intact, and no hard feelings towards the Volturi. More, Aro is on record doing this with it’s-not-you thing with at least one other vampire. Laurent wanted to join the Volturi, had nothing to bring to the table, and Aro used past association with the Romanians as an excuse for why Laurent couldn’t join rather than tell him to his face that he was useless. With Marcus, Aro, and Chelsea around, the Romanian connection isn’t a problem, meaning Aro was bullshitting.

TL;DR: Aro is the kind of person who’d lie and say his grandma died if he doesn’t want to go to your party, and Eleazar is the kind of person who’d say «My condolences».

[myrandomfandomramblings]

The Beach - a The Rookie/Chenford Fanfic

“7-Adam-11, show us responding,” Jackson said over the radio as Lucy leaned back against her headrest defeatedly.

“I didn’t think I’d ever say this but I really don’t want to go to the beach.” “Like ever again,” she added even as she took the first turn towards their destination. 

LA was 4 days into a record heat wave and over that time Lucy had learnt a few important things 1) Unsurprisingly, extreme heat causes everyone to flock to the ocean. 2) It also makes people extremely irritable. 3) Lots of irritable people packed together in large groups leads to chaos and 4) wool uniforms are not ideal attire for patrolling beaches in temperatures around 100. 

So after 4 days she was over it. She had spent Monday with Jackson getting sworn at, honked at and nearly run over as they directed traffic at the busiest beaches in the city. She spent Tuesday with Tim breaking up beach brawls, confiscating contributing alcohol and watching bikini clad woman flirt with Tim. At least 8 different woman had asked him to rub sunscreen on them or suggested he take off his shirt to cool down. She had rolled her eyes so much she had given herself a headache. Although it may have been the sun. Yesterday, her and Nolan and responded to a report of a missing child who was feared drowned or kidnapped but turned out had followed the music of an ice cream truck four blocks and was found, about 30 minutes after the officers arrived, happily eating a fudgiscle. However, they were kept at the beach for the remainder of their shift by various citizens with complaints ranging from seagulls, wasps and possible sharks to thieves, streakers and possible melanoma. 

Now her and Jackson were headed back to a beach where the adjacent shrubbery was currently being consumed by a blazing bush fire, which was in all likelihood human caused and spreading fast. Therefore all hands were on deck as the LAPD worked with the LAFD to keep civilians safe, extinguish the fire and investigate its cause.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur as they interviewed witnesses, cordoned off the area, issued evacuation orders, ensured those who needed it got medical attention, joined a production line passing large buckets of water from the ocean to where the fire was burning and debriefed with their team which included Nolan and Tim, and Lopez and Harper. Luckily in the end, the fire was successfully extinguished, those living nearby were safe and happily back in their homes and the perpetrator, a cigarette butt flicker, was caught. But not until nearly 11pm by which time the entire team was exhausted, scorching and covered in soot and ash. With their job done the team of 6 headed away from the scene back along the beach to where they had parked their shops. They were right on the sand where they left them to create a barrier preventing people from wandering toward the fire and the beach around them was abandoned. Likely due to a combination of the late hour, the fire itself and the fact that the stretch of beach they were on was only accessible by walking about a mile from one of the main beaches on either side or by scrambling down the steep cliff behind them.

“Anybody want a cold one,” Nolan asked when they reached the vehicles, “well a hot one I guess” he amended as he pulled out a six pack he had confiscated earlier in the day from the trunk of his shop. Everybody made a face at the offer of hot beer but since the only light around came from the shops headlights shining in the opposite direction Nolan didn’t see them.

“Screw it, I’ll take one,” Angela said.

“Wesley and Patrice took the baby to meet the extended Evers clan so I have nowhere to be and now that I’m no longer breastfeeding I can have whatever I want. Even if that’s gross beer that’s been sitting in a hot car all day,” she explained.

“If we dig a hole near the water line it will fill with cold seawater and we can make a makeshift beer fridge,” Jackson suggested but Angela had already opened her can and was sipping away.

“I’ll help dig the hole,” Nyla offered. “I’d rather hangout here then go back to the station to do paperwork and Lila’s with her dad so I also have no where I have to be.”

“I’ll call Grey and tell him we’re clocking out and will do the paperwork in the morning,” Tim offered.

“Your staying?” Lucy asked a little too excitedly, “what about Kojo?” she quickly added.

“Tamara called several hours ago and offered to give him dinner, take him for a walk and put him to bed.”“She saw the fire on the news and rightly assumed we’d have our hands full,” he finished.

30 minutes later they all sat in the sand around their makeshift beer fridge. Shoes, socks and button up shirts discarded and pants pulled up to their knees. 3 flashlights were in the middle of the group, pointing skyward, their handles buried in the sand. They laughed as they went around and told stories.

“How is it still this hot?” Lucy asked a while later.  It was after midnight and the temperature had yet to even consider dropping below 90. 

She pulled her white t-shirt away from her skin fanning, herself. 

“I’m going swimming,” she declared ready to stand up.

“Your going swimming? Right Now? In that?” Tim asked gesturing to her cotton tee and woolen pants.

Lucy shook her head. “I was just going to go in my underwear but now that I think about it I don’t really want to have to drive back to the station in soaking wet underwear.”

Tim nodded as if this is what he expected but Lucy didn’t see him and continued.

“I guess I’ll just skinny dip,” she concluded.

Tim managed to both spit out and choke on the sip of beer he had just taken.

Everybody else’s faces were turned towards Tim and wearing amused expressions but they were saved his annoyance due to the limited light and the fact that his attention was still fully on Lucy.

“What?” She asked Tim, “It’s not a big deal. It’s dark. Plus everybody here has already seen me naked.” 

“Well except you,” she added, which earned another spit take from Tim.

Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved seeing Tim flustered, especially when it was her doing.

“What?” He finally managed to ask in a strained voice after a few harsh coughs to clear his throat.

“Everybody here’s seen Lucy naked but you,” Lopez offered, “although that was bound to change sometime soon,” she added.

Lucy and Tim both turned to look at her wide eyed. Nolan and Nyla were both hiding smirks and Jackson wore an expression of mainly panic as he spoke.

“She’s drunk. She has no idea what she’s saying,” Jackson offered before turning to look daggers at Angela and whisper something in her ear.

Lucy thought she heard the words bet, interference and disqualified but she couldn’t be sure.

When he finished Angela addressed them again. “Sorry, apparently my tolerance took a nose dive since pre-pregnancy. I didn’t mean anything by that I got you mixed up with Smitty and what’s her face,” she finished waving her hand disparagingly.

“Hmm,” Lucy said clearly not buying her lame excuse but Tim still had his mind on other things.

“Why has everybody else here seen you naked?” he asked, his tone almost suspicious.

Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”

He fixed her with his best TO look. “No.”

Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again and answered.

“Communal showers at work,” she began gesturing to Nyla and Angela. “Best friends and roommates” she added pointing to Jackson. “Life gets crazy. Sometimes closing doors or throwing on clothes just isn’t a priority,” she explained seeing Tim’s confused expression. “Also we had to help each other into and out of the bath after we were injured.” She didn’t have to specify her kidnapping or the beating Jackson took to take down Doug Stanton. This group knew. “It’s kind of ironic that when everything hurts all you want is a warm bath but when everything hurts it’s nearly impossible to get yourself into and out of a bathtub,” she finishes. “Oh and Nolan and I used to date.” She says it as almost an afterthought, super casual. But all the former TOs still look at her with shock.

“You and Nolan?” Nyla asks with a laugh. “Really?” “No offense,” she adds addressing Nolan.

“Ah, none taken?” Nolan replies, clearly confused by her reaction.

“When?” Lopez asks looking between the two P2s.

“For a couple months while we were in the academy. We called it off shortly after we started at Mid-Wilshire,” Nolan supplied.

“Wow, I just can’t picture it,” Angela continued shaking her head.

“Why would you want to picture it?” Tim spat. Then seemed to catch himself and schooled his scowl back into a blank expression.

“Why’d you call it off, anyway?” Angela asked. Half actually curious. Half just trying to do her friend a solid and take the attention off him.

“Bishop warned me that dating a fellow cop would brand me and could ruin my career,” Lucy answered and thought she saw Tim flinch. It was impossible to tell for sure with just the flashlights, nevertheless she added, “Somethings matter more-“ she was staring right at Tim now “-are worth the gossip, the assumptions, the risk.” As she said it she saw his expression change but she couldn’t read it. “But our relationship wasn’t one of those things. We’re better as friends, anyway,” she finished addressing the whole group but looking at Nolan specifically for confirmation.

“Agreed,” Nolan nodded holding up his beer.

“To friends,” Jackson said clicking his to Nolan’s.

“To friends,” everybody joined in clinking their cans together.

“So who’s coming skinny dipping with me?” Lucy asked as she started to make her way back to the vehicles where she could leave her clothes in a place where they’d stay sand free.

“I will,” said Angela, “pregnancy and caring for a baby really makes modesty go out the window. The two beers I’ve had don’t hurt either.” She began to follow Lucy to the cars.

“I’m in,” Jackson offered, “with you two practically glowing in the dark nobody will even notice me.” He teased as he got up to join them, earning a playful shove from Lucy.

“Nobody’s here to see anything anyway.” She retorted.

“Go ahead. I might join you later.” Nolan said and Nyla and Tim nodded in agreement.

10 minutes later. Lucy, Angela and Jackson’s clothes were inside Jackson and Lucy’s shop and they were out in the ocean. It dropped off quickly so they weren’t that far away from the beach even though the water came to just below Lucy’s shoulders. After four days of blazing heat and the fire on top today, the cool water felt like heaven to her. She dipped and dove through the water, relishing the cool and wiped at her face and hands to remove the soot that had coated them earlier. Beside her Angela was trying to show Jackson what her son does when they put him in the water. This led to reminiscing about childhood summers spent at the beach or in backyard and community pools. And before they knew it they were playing old games from those days. John and Nyla had joined them by this time. Claiming some combination of escaping the heat, joining the fun and more beer as the motivation. They were currently having breath holding contests.

“I win!” Jackson exclaimed as he came up for air to find everyone else already up.

“You cheated,” Lucy argued, “I saw you come up while I was still under. I had my eyes open.”

“I did not. Plus it’s pitch black under there you couldn’t possibly have seen anything.”

“Did Jackson come up?” Lucy yelled at Tim who was still sitting on the shore.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching,” he replied casually with a slight shrug.

“Yes you were,” Angela argued, “you haven’t taken your eyes off Lucy since she got in here,” then realizing what she said she quickly ducked back under the water. 

Everybody still above the surface froze.

Then after a beat. “So did he come up or not. I need to know if I won,” Nyla asked, all business.

“He floated to the surface but didn’t lift his head up. He won,” Tim offered defeatedly.

“Told you!” Jackson bragged.

“Rematch. 3,2,1 go,” shouted Nyla as everybody ducked back under the water. Lucy a split second behind everybody else as her attention was still on Tim. 

She came up about 30 seconds later just as a wave was passing by her and managed to swallow a good serving of water. She coughed and sputtered but before she knew it Jackson and Nolan were beside her and she was assuring them she was Ok just needed a bit of time to catch her breath. As she swam towards the shore to rest in the shallows she noticed Tim was just sitting back down and his pants were wet to just above the knee. But she didn’t let herself focus on it.

She swam to just in front of where he sat laying on her stomach on the ocean floor, head just above the water.

“You OK?” He asked shifting his eyes to her for the first time since she swam up.

“Ya fine, just swallowed a little water,” she assured him.

“Looks like you guys are having fun out there,” he nodded indicating the group still farther out.

“Ya the water feels amazing. You can’t honestly tell me that you aren’t hot.” She had meant it literally. He was sitting in above 90 degree weather with wool pants on. But then she realized he had taken off his white shirt and his muscled chest and stomach were currently on full display and the word took on an entirely different meaning. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her blush but even that couldn’t hide the fact that she was definitely staring. 

“The ladies on the beach the other day will be so disappointed they’re missing this,” she teased gesturing to his bare upper half, hoping to give a probable explanation for the staring.

He gave a short laugh. “Not as disappointed as the meat bags who were wolf whistling at you will be that they’re missing that.” As he gestured at her he finally let himself actually take her in. Her hair was still up in its low work bun leaving her entire back exposed. The upper half of which was completely taken up by a tattoo, he had never seen before, although the light was too limited for him to make out the design. The rest of her body was hidden in shadows except her face which was now free of soot and make-up making her look young and vulnerable. Freckles brought out by the last few days of blazing sun were speckled across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was twisted in thought and her eyes sparkled in the light of the flashlights. She really was beautiful.

While those thoughts flew through Tim’s mind Lucy was thinking about his comment about the wolf whistlers. That had happened at the very start of their shift and lasted no more than two seconds. Lucy wasn’t even sure they had been whistling at her and she had completely forgotten about it until Tim brought it up just now. Funny that he would remember. 

 They were both pulled out of their thoughts by a sudden commotion further out in the water:

“DID YOU NOT THERE IS NO PIE!”

“DO NOT THERE IS NO DIE!”

“DO OR DO NOT THERE IS NO TRY!”

Were being yelled over each other.

“What are they doing?” Tim asked looking at the group out in the water.

They were in a circle. Jackson had just given Nolan a high five then they were under again.

“I think they are playing the guess what I said under the water game,” Lucy chuckled.

Tim was about to reply but he was cut off by “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood” being shouted in unison followed by bickering about who said it first.

“I’m going back out to join them. You going to come?” Lucy asked turning her attention from the group back to Tim.

“I don’t need to be a part of that.”

“Come on Tim. You’re hot and dirty.” She still meant it literally. Really. He was covered in soot. Stupid double entendres.

He raised is eyebrows.

“Just get in the water,” Lucy said splashing water at him to vent her frustration with how flustered she was getting.

He wiped the water from his face and a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”

Lucy beamed back at him as he stood up and walked back to the shop to discard his remaining clothes then turned her attention back to her friends.

“It’s not Angeles Direct, you’ve already guessed that three times,” Nyla was saying to Jackson

“That’s what it sounds like,” he argued “and it’s definitely closer to that than ‘embroidery period.’”

“That was my first guess. I heard wrong,” Nyla shot back.

“Oh ya cuz ‘and was dressed’ and ‘indoors divest’ were so much closer.”

Any further argument was cut-off by Nolan. “I’ve got it: Angela’s the best,” he said confidently.

“Yes and yes,” Angela confirmed.

“Your turn Nyla.” 

There was a brief silence as they all went back under the water followed by a flurry of screamed “this is stupid.”

“Happy now?” Came a quieter voice beside her and Lucy nearly jumped out of the water. She had been so wrapped up watching her friends she hadn’t even noticed that Tim had made his way back down the beach and was now sitting beside her in the water.

She smiled and nodded. “Aren’t you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. “We’ll see after I get roped into whatever’s going on out there,” he offered but there was no bite to it. He was even smiling, although mostly with his eyes, as he looked at their friends.

“Well let’s go find out,” Lucy replied as she led the way into the deeper water.

As they approached the group they watched them go up and down and listened to their guesses.

“And further than game”

“Comforters at game”

“Temperatures endgame”

“Stanford is endgame”

“Checkers is a game.” “At least that’s a real sentence”

“Bradford has game?” “That can’t be right he most definitely doesn’t”

Then just as Tim and Lucy joined the group “Chenford is endgame!” Shouted by Angela who upon realizing Tim and Lucy had joined them turned to Jackson.

“This ones not on me it was your sentence.”

Jackson stood stunned for a second looking desperately between Tim, Lucy and Angela then swiftly closed his eyes and yelled “MARCO.”

There was a brief silence then Nolan yelled “POLO” and everyone was swimming away from Jackson at top speed. Everyone except Tim who was giving Lucy a look that said. “See what you got me into? I told you so.” 

But she was busy swimming off with the others, grateful for the distraction. So he rolled his eyes and joined the game. The water did feel amazing although he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

Calls of MARCO POLO and laughter filled the air as everybody took their turn being it: Jackson tagged Nolan who tagged Lucy who tagged Nyla who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Nolan who tagged Angela who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Lucy. Well he meant to tag Lucy. He reached his arm out and jumped towards her “POLO” but she was closer than he thought and instead of the tips of his finger tagging her shoulder he jumped right into her. He hit her hard and she responded to being knocked off her feet and down into the water instinctively by reaching for the nearest thing to prevent drowning, which happened to be him. So when he opened his eyes her arms were around his neck and her legs around his hips and her face was only about an inch from his own as she coughed up water for the second time that day.

“Are you ok?” He asked moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

She nodded but continued to cough as he absentmindedly stroked her back.

 “You caught me by surprise,” she breathed “I didn’t know we were playing full contact Marco Polo.”

He let out a relieved laugh, “I’m sorry.”

“A real Tim Bradford apology I never thought I’d see it in person,” Lucy teased earning an eye roll from Tim. This close Lucy could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dark. 

“It was an accident.”

“So it wasn’t some sort of Tim Test to see how I would handle a fight in the water?”

“No. You got your last Tim test a year ago when you stopped being my rookie.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” she said. “Then again we’ve been through enough for an entire career,” she added as her hand reflexively moved from his neck where it was playing with his hair to the tattoo on her her ribs.

That’s when it dawned on her just how close her and Tim were, pressed together without a shred of clothing between them. She had felt so comfortable and content she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and what it could lead to. She was about to put some space between them when his hand covered hers over the tattoo marking her supposed day of death. The day he saved her from being buried alive. Although he would say it marked the first day of the rest of her life. The day she saved herself. 

And the desire to move away died in an instant. 

“I kept it,” she said quietly, “because of what you said.” “Because it’s a reminder that I’m a survivor. And that my team will always have my back.”

Tim was looking at her with an expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I have one of those,” he replied softly lifting her hand up and moving it to rest on his lower left abdomen. She was confused at first but as she felt the skin beneath her finger tips she realized it was scarred. The scar from when he was shot on her second day and she pulled him out of the line of gunfire.

She smiled and looked directly into his eyes. 

“It’s a good thing we have each other in our lives,”

“Sure is,”

She was just about to lean in and close the distance between them when a voice interrupted.

“Hey you two. Keep it PG or get a room. This is a family outing.” It was Nyla.

Lucy laughed as she untangled her self from Tim and in that moment she realized two things. 1) this was most definitely her family and 2) she would very happily come back to the beach. Maybe next time she’d just bring Tim, maybe even as her boyfriend.

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 4)

Chapter summary: The BAU makes it's plan to get inside your law firm, and you reflect on your previous relationship with Aaron — the good and the bad.

A/N: i'm baaaaack! this is a little bit of a filler with a hell of a lot of introspection + background on the past relationship with hotch

masterlist || read on ao3

'Cause the love that you gave that we made

Wasn't able to make it enough for you

To be open wide, no

-Alanis Morissette, “You Oughta Know”

~~~~~~~

The plan was simple enough. They had a warrant to bug the office, but lawyers are naturally suspicious, so they needed somebody who already had a rapport with partners to place the bugs. That’s where you came in. They were going to give you pens and other random office supplies with covert listening devices in them, and you just needed to leave them around. You were also going to wear an earpiece so that they could talk you through it every step of the way. Easy enough.

Aaron stood at the front of the room, his hands resting on his hips and his face stone cold. You had seen Aaron on television a few times when he had to speak to the media, but that was the extent of your knowledge of his FBI persona. You had never given much thought to his work life, and the only times he even talked about it was in passing. Watching him completely command the attention of the room was really a site to behold. Suddenly, you understood all of Aaron’s career changes and his unbridled ambition- he was made to be FBI Director.

You nodded slowly as you listened to their plans, trying to ignore the side of your brain that was screaming danger. You looked over at Aaron, hoping that he would understand your unspoken question and would give you an honest answer. When he met your eyes, he gave you a subtle nod, as if to say You’ll be fine, we’ll be right there with you. That was the only confirmation you really needed. Aaron looked so confident that it was almost infectious. Besides, a dead civilian wouldn’t look very good on Aaron’s FBI record, so you had to believe that it really was going to be that simple.

You took a deep breath. “Okay, I can do all that. I’m scheduled to go in this afternoon,” you told the room, avoiding everybody else’s eyes on you. You could tell that some of them weren’t totally sold on the idea yet.

“Good, that gives us just enough time to get everything set up. I want you all to go over the office blueprints with Y/N and set up a concrete plan. I don’t want anything left up to chance. While you do that, I will head down to intelligence with Garcia so that we can grab the coverts and prepare them,” Aaron said firmly, and you found yourself nodding along, as if you were a member of his team.

The way he gave orders was almost hypnotic because it was so different from the way he gave orders during sex. When he was with you, there was always a hint of affection and reverence in every word he said. Here and talking to his coworkers, it was almost paternal, like he was assigning weekly chores. You were getting a more full picture of who Aaron Hotchner was, and it was exciting, if not a little overwhelming.

You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of ruffling papers as Reid spread out the floor plans to the office across the table. The next hour and a half was spent going back and forth with the group of profilers to see what the best course of action was. You let them take the lead considering you had zero experience in this particular field, but you were pleasantly surprised when they asked for your opinions, asking you whether or not anybody ever went in certain areas in the building. Working with them was easy, even with David Rossi clearly psychoanalyzing every move you made, probably trying to figure out how the hell you and Aaron fit together.

After figuring out the best excuses to get in each of the partner’s offices, the team had decided that you were prepped and ready. “You’re welcome to grab some lunch in the cafeteria on the second floor,” Reid told you as the rest of the team was slowly filing out of the conference room. “But the food’s not great, to be honest. The only people who ever really eat there are tourists and kids on field trips.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as you shouldered your purse. “With all that security, the FBI has tour guides?” you asked amusedly.

Reid nodded eagerly as he finished folding up the blueprints. “The FBI has actually had a tour component since 1937, even before it settled here in the Hoover building. After 9/11, they stopped the tours and closed the building to the public and didn’t reopen until 2008 when the FBI made the Education Center. It closed and was redesigned multiple times since then, and now it’s known as the FBI Experience. You have to contact your congressman to request a tour at least four weeks in advance so that the FBI can do a background check,” he said quickly, his hands doing half of the talking for him.

You laughed as the two of you made your way to the door. Aaron had mentioned something about the genius Dr. Reid in passing, and he was just as amusing and endearing as Aaron said he was. “That sounds like a lot of work. If that’s the case, then I might have better luck just asking one of you to give me a tour after this whole thing is done. You sound like you know more than the tour guides anyways.”

Reid stood up a little taller at the compliment, but your focus was immediately drawn to Aaron’s office. Specifically, Aaron, in his office, alone, with the blinds shut and the door wide open. You had promised to be on your best behavior, but the temptation was almost too much. You wanted to see more of Hotch, the FBI agent. “Excuse me for a second, Doctor,” you mumbled, flashing him an innocent smile.

Spencer gave you a small wave as you walked off, headed straight for Aaron’s office, your heels clicking rhythmically on the floor. As if sensing your presence, Aaron’s head shot up the second you stepped into his office, his face void of all emotions. You shut the door slowly behind you, having to hide your smile when you saw him shift in his seat nervously. “Y/N, this isn’t the place-”

You held both of your hands up as you made your way towards his desk. “Don’t worry, Agent. I didn’t come here with the intention to seduce you in front of all your coworkers,” you promised. “Although that can always be arranged.”

You were rewarded with a small grin from Aaron and something that was close to laughter, although it just sounded more like an exhale. “How can I help you?” he asked, unable to mask the lightheartedness in his words.

You sat on the edge of his desk. “Well, I’m going to be rubbing shoulders with a potential serial killer for the rest of the day. Don’t I get a kiss for good luck? Doesn’t even have to be a kiss on the mouth,” you teased. Aaron tensed up. That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Maybe he remembered that he was at work, and there was no room for playfulness in the FBI. Or maybe he realized that you would be the second woman he’s been with that he’s sending into a dangerous situation.

This was all new territory for the two of you. Previously, there were so many unspoken rules for the relationship, and that’s what made it work. It kept everything easy and fun and none of you had to sift through any baggage.

He didn’t talk about cases he was on and you didn’t mention Jack or Haley- not that you would even want to. He would order dinner for the two of you, but it couldn’t be from anywhere he used to take Haley. So that took away their Chinese place and their pizza place and, God forbid, their Italian place they went to for anniversaries- you preferred Indian anyways. Every once in a while, you’d meet up in hotels that were way too nice and expensive for a fling, but it was always somewhere out of the city, like Baltimore or Fredericksburg, because between the two of you, somebody in DC was bound to recognize one of you.

But there you were, sitting on his desk in the middle of the FBI headquarters, completely thrown off your game. Part of you wondered why he had wanted to continue this thing with you. It wasn’t some midlife crisis- he was too composed for that- and it wasn’t to help heal heartbreak the way it was two years ago. You weren’t complaining about it, though. There was something addictive about Aaron, something that made you think about him even when you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months, and a nagging voice in the back of your head told you that he probably thought the same thing about you. At least, you hoped he did.

You were so entranced in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he was talking to you. You refocused your eyes and snapped your head back in his direction, where he was looking at you with worry in his eyes. “Hm?” you questioned.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed, like he was trying to read your mind. “I asked if you were sure that you’re ready for this? You all came up with a plan faster than I expected.”

You put on a practiced smile as you slid off his desk, careful not to rustle any of the precariously stacked files next to you. “What can I say, I’m a fast learner. Plus, I went through a major James Bond phase in 7th grade, so this is like a dream come true for me,” you joked, and that seemed to satisfy him.

His face softened, and you once again found yourself fascinated by how much younger he looked when he let himself relax for even half a second. “It’s going to be fine, and I’m going to be talking to you through the earpiece the whole time,” he said. It surprised you just how comforting that single sentiment was, but something about Aaron walking you through the whole process made it less daunting.

Casual flirting with him had worked at the beginning of the conversation, so you decided to try that again. “It’ll be like you’re whispering in my ear all day,” you mused, batting your eyelashes. “That’s kind of sexy, in an exhibitionist kind of way.”

Aaron chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Behave,” he told you firmly, but there was the slightest hint of playfulness.

You made your way towards his office door, throwing a wink his way as you did. “No promises,” you sang. “But I’ll do my best.”

After grabbing something to eat at the cafeteria- Reid was right, the food was terrible- it was time for you to head to the weirdest internship shift you’ve ever had. Most of the team would be in an undercover van outside of the building so that they could listen to everything. You were able to get a ride from Morgan in one of the FBI SUVs, which would drop you off a few blocks away so it didn’t look suspicious. The two of you made some small talk on the way, asking about school and life at the FBI, all very surface level stuff, but nice nonetheless. It helped calm your nerves.

After a while, he pulled over and handed you a bag from the backseat. It was a simple black satchel, not very different from the usual one you would bring to work. “Okay, here is everything you’ll need. You remember the plan, right?”

You nodded quickly as you put in the earpiece, trying to hide any signs of nervousness. “Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. “Honestly, this isn’t even the worst thing I’ve done while working.”

Derek chuckled, maybe despite himself. “Remember, we’ll be right outside of the building. Just treat it like a normal day.”

You didn’t think that was even going to be possible, but luckily, you were proven wrong the moment you stepped into the elevator.

“Woah, hold the door for me!”

You stuck your hand out quickly just before the elevator doors closed, and your friend Chris came barreling through. He was a third year when you were a first year at George Washington and the two of you met in your tax law class. You quickly became fast friends, and you met most of your law school friends through him. When he got hired as a staff attorney at the same firm you were interning at, you couldn’t have been more excited.

You clutched the satchel a little tighter, knowing full well that the entire BAU was about to hear this conversation. “Hey,” you said, your voice light.

Chris just raised an eyebrow at you. “Hey?” he asked incredulously. “That’s it? What the hell happened to you last night? We were all supposed to go out and you didn’t show up. No phone call, nothing. And then the only response we got from you was three hours later when you just said ‘Sorry, something came up, next time!’”

You sighed and reached over to press the button for the third floor. It was crazy to think that the interrogation had been less than 24 hours ago- it felt like a lifetime to you. Aaron’s voice came through the earpiece. You can’t tell anybody about the investigation. Make an excuse and change the subject.

“Sorry, mom,” you huffed, staring at the elevator doors. “I got busy, and I’m not attached to my phone all the time like a certain newlywed. How are you and Sam, by the way?” You looked at Chris pointedly with that comment and, like expected, he was frantically shoving his phone back in his pocket. Chris had gotten married two months ago and was still very much in the honeymoon phase.

Good job, Aaron said into the earpiece, and it made you smile despite yourself.

Which, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by Chris. He narrowed his eyes at you for a few seconds before gasping. “You’re deflecting! And I know that smile.” He thought about it for a second before his eyes went wide. “Oh my god, you ditched us last night because you were getting railed.”

Your friends knew you way too well. You rolled your eyes at Chris. “Wow, that is a reach if I’ve ever seen one.”

The elevator doors opened and you all but sprinted out of there. “You’re not denying it!” Chris accused and you had to bite back a groan of annoyance. You loved your friends, but you did not want to have this conversation right now. “Come on, spill. What is their name?”

You heard Aaron take a sharp intake of breath. You weren’t going to tell Chris, even if you weren’t currently wired where all of Aaron’s coworkers could hear. You never told your friends about Aaron because you were worried about their reaction. They would have worried about his age, or if he was taking advantage of you, or if you were in any danger because of his job. They would have pressured you to pursue more of a “true” relationship with Aaron, and you weren’t going to pretend like that was even a possibility.

You liked Aaron, and it really seemed like Aaron genuinely liked you, too, just not in a way that would make sense to people, especially not your friends. Aaron was always nice to you. He treated you like an equal, not just some random college girl he was sleeping with. He was interesting, and being around him was easy. Aaron would invite you over sometimes and the two of you would just do your work while eating take out before you would have sex. Sometimes, you’d ask him for help with your homework, because there really wasn’t any better tutor, and he was happy to give it. At the time when you first met, the two of you were just kind of lonely, and it was nice to have somebody around who just got it.

You also liked the version of you that Aaron brought out- smarter, wittier, and even a little bit more put together. Definitely much more ambitious. And if seeing him at work was indicative of anything, you thought that he liked the version of himself that you seemed to bring out- more easygoing and playful, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And also, yeah, the sex was really fucking good.

You sped up your steps, but Chris was right at your heels. “You’re such a chismoso, but fine. His first name is nunya, last name business.”

You heard him groan behind you, and you turned around so that you were walking backwards. “Y/N, you suck so bad. This is going in the group chat, and we are going to find out who you’re sleeping with.”

You laughed, finally feeling relaxed and calm for the first time since you heard about this plan. “Mhm, good luck with that,” you called to him. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get to work. Not all of us get paid to sit around and look pretty.”

“Yeah, you just get college credit for it,” he snorted and you just turned back around. You were sure you were going to get so much shit from your friends later, but the bag on your shoulder was getting heavier every second.

Placing the listening devices was as easy as they told you it was going to be. You were able to go throughout your shift fairly normally, sitting through meetings and writing emails, mostly. If you needed to get into somebody’s office, you would just tell them that they needed to sign something or ask them if they wanted any more coffee. The only times Aaron would say something into the earpiece was if they couldn’t get a signal on the device and you needed to move it slightly.

When it was time for your break, you flipped your phone over in your hands a few times, debating on whether or not you should text Aaron. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to hear him moan in your ear while his hands roamed every inch of you. You desperately wanted his mouth on you, his head in between your thighs. You could imagine Aaron on top of you, brushing your hair from your face, and telling you how pretty you were. Maybe you’d text Aaron later, when he wasn’t in a cramped van.

“Y/N?” You snapped your head up to see a woman you knew to be Julian DuPont’s assistant. DuPont owned the law firm, and he came from a very rich and powerful DC family. He was the whole reason that the FBI couldn’t just sneak in and bug the office themselves- he would be suspicious about anybody he didn’t personally know. Even having been an intern at the law firm for almost an entire year, you had only spoken to him one-on-one a handful of times. Sure, they were all positive experiences, but you knew he could lie to almost anybody.

“Yes?” you asked cautiously.

She gave you a sweet smile. “Mr. DuPont has asked to see you in his office right away.”

Your mouth instantly dried up and your heart started to beat so fast that you would have sworn everybody could hear it. “Uh… Yeah, of course, um… Did he happen to say what it was about?” you stuttered out. He was the first office you had placed the bug in. Maybe he found out and was about to fire you in front of everybody. Or worse, your brain supplied unhelpfully.

The assistant shook her head and guided you wordlessly to DuPont’s office. Stay calm, came Aaron’s voice through the earpiece. I will tell you everything you need to say if you get stuck, but you’ll be fine.

When you got to the office, the assistant close the door behind you, leaving you alone in the office with Mr. DuPont himself. He gave you a warm smile, which should have comforted you, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile for anything not related to winning a case or getting money. “Sit, please,” he ordered, gesturing lazily to the chair in front of his desk.

You tried to keep your breathing even as you sat down quickly, rubbing your hands on the tops of your thighs. It felt like you were in the principal’s office. You stayed silent so that he could have the first word.

“As you may know, I’ve been watching your progress very closely, both here and with your professors,” he stated, leaning forwards in his chair. “You’re very intelligent, and I think you have a bright career in front of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, trying to put as much confidence in your words as possible. There was a ‘but’ coming, you felt it. You could vaguely make out mumbling in your earpiece, like the BAU were trying to profile what Julian was going to say half a second before he said it.

DuPont straightened out a pen on his desk- to be specific, the pen with the listening device in it. Your breath caught in your throat. “I would like to capitalize on that potential and have you work here after you’ve graduated, but I need to see how you do in an actual courtroom. Law students are allowed to practice law under the supervision of an attorney, which would be me. If you do well, and you pass the bar, you’ll have a job here as an associate right after graduation. Think of it as a trial run, or a try-before-you-buy program.”

You let out a sigh of relief, not even caring how dramatic it may have looked to Julian, and you closed your eyes for a second just to ground yourself. He didn’t know, it was just a job offer. The secret was safe. The earpiece went silent again. “Sir- I… Thank you so much. I would love to, of course. It would be an absolute honor.”

DuPont nodded and leaned back in his chair. “That’s good to hear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to. We will discuss this more at a later date.”

You shook his hand quickly before exiting, your heart pounding. You were going to need a drink, or five, tonight. Maybe it was stupid, but part of you wanted to hear something from your earpiece. It didn’t even need to be Aaron speaking, but you wanted somebody from the BAU to remind you that everything was okay.

Ignoring the questioning look from Chris, you sat down at your desk, attempting to process everything that just happened. Once the adrenaline went down, you let yourself get excited. A job offer, and a nice one at that, at a fancy private firm with a nice salary. You were set.

You grabbed your phone so that you could send the news to your friends, but a notification caught your eye.

From: Aaron Hotchner

Congratulations, associate. I told you that you’d make a wonderful lawyer someday.

To: Aaron Hotchner

Thank you :) You know this means I’m going to practice my opening statements on you all the time, right??

From: Aaron Hotchner

I’m looking forward to it.

[randomwriteronline]

"What's in here?"

Legend turns as fast as lightning and grabs the box from Skull Kid's hands before he even realizes what it is.

The little wooden arms audibly pop out of the small chest.

He quietly puts them back inside their sleeves.

"Let go of it." he orders.

The imp tilts their head: "What's in it?" they repeat, ignoring his words.

"None of your business."

"But I want to know."

He huffs: "My rings."

"The ones for the fingers?"

"Yes, the ones for the fingers."

"Can I see them?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Some of them are cursed and I wouldn't trust you with them."

"Oh." they freeze. Their mouth disappears - the lack of lips makes it melt back into their head perfectly.

They do not speak further.

Their hands still clutch the box.

"Let go of it." Legend orders again.

"It's a nice box." they murmur.

"Yes, it is. Now let go of it."

They hum.

"Do the rings possess people?" they whisper.

They seem very serious.

"No," Legend answers, "They're just your run-of-the-mill curses. Sucking your energy, weakening your body, all that."

"And they curse by touch?"

"No, no, only if you wear them."

"Oh!" they seem relieved.

"Now let go."

"Can I see them?"

Legend sighs deeply, rubbing at his eyelids.

"Fine." he conceds. "But don't touch them."

A beat of silence.

"So I can't see them?"

He gives them a look before remembering. Right. They're blind. Can't see. Right. Right.

He raises his index finger to press it to their completely flat nose: "I'll give you the not cursed ones," he states, "And you will give them back to me immediately. Deal?"

A grey wooden finger boops his own nose: "Deal!" Skull Kid grins with their sharp teeth.

The box opens with a click.

Legend rummages through the overflowing jewelry and hands them a small ring.

The imp examines it, curious: "There's a stone on it," they point out.

"Many of them have a gem," the hero replies.

"What stone is it?"

"Uh-" he snaps his fingers twice as he tries to remember: "Hydromelon tourmaline, I think this kind is called."

"Why's it called hydromelon tamaline?"

"Tourmaline - see, you know how a hydromelon looks like, right? Green outside, a bit red on the inside... This part here -" he moves their small digit to rub against part of the stone, "- This part is green, and the rest instead is this kind of reddish pink, like a hydromelon. That's why it's called like that."

"Oh... And the ta- t- tor-ma-lin part?"

"Tourmaline. That's just the kind of rock."

Skull Kid hands it back to him. He looks at them quizzically: "You don't wanna know what it does?"

"No," they answer simply, like a child, "I just want to see them. Are there any others with stones with two colors?"

Legend searches in the box and grabs a few.

"This one here -" he explains as he puts the first in their palm, "-This has an ametrine quartz. It's a mix of citrine quartz and amethyst - this part here is yellow, like the citrine, and this one is purple."

"Like the amethyst?"

"Exactly, like the amethyst. While this other one, this stone is called snowflake obsidian, and it has little white and grey dots all over."

"I think I know this one! It's black under the spots, right? It's black under it."

"Yep, yep. And this one - no wait, that's one of the cursed ones, hold on-"

Wind, Four and Hyrule return to camp first to find Legend so absolutely engrossed in the explanation of the different kinds of gems that he has not noticed how Skull Kid (who still diligently looks at every ring they are given and asks questions about them) has had their head turned towards the three man party for a while now, having sniffed them out rather easily. He is finally taken out of it when the imp waves blindly in the vague direction of the returning heroes.

"You said I couldn't even touch them!" Wind cries out, betrayed.

"They are just looking at them!" Legend replies immediately, "And they're looking at all the not cursed ones specifically!"

“That’s just blatant favoritism!”

“No it’s not!”

"They have pretty stones on top of them," Skull Kid chimes in, blissfully serene. Before the veteran hero can stop them their hand dives in the box and fishes out the first ring which was handed to them, holding it out for the young sailor to see: "Gold said this one's called hydromelon tor-ma-lin, because it's green and pink. It's nice, isn't it?"

"How did you even find it in that sea of rings?" Four asks, genuinely impressed, while Legend tries to takes the jewel back from the little wooden fingers.

"The shape and the stone are different," they explain, and to prove a point they fish out the snowflake obsidian as well, rubbing a thumb on the much smoother gem: "See? They're different! That's how I find them."

The veteran finally snatches the magical jewels: "Hey, hey! Put those back! We had a deal, the two of us."

The wooden child snickers. Four giggles a bit as well, inconspicuously going to sit next to Legend; Wind lets himself plomp down next to Skull Kid, neck stretching to better look at the rings, while Hyrule simply looks patiently at the seasoned hero as if waiting for an invitation that will have to inevitably come, because they're all terribly curious and no amount of fussing and grumbling will save Legend from the prying eyes dying to get even a glimpse of his vast collection of items this time.

Warriors returns to camp with Sky and Wild in tow, and they wave back at the little wooden hand that smelled them way before anybody could hear them. The strangeness of being presented with such a passionate gathering around a box of small jewelry does not fail to strike them - and it strikes Time and Twilight too, when they arrive soon after.

The Chosen Hero eyes curiously the clamoring group: "What are you doing?"

"None of your business!" Legend replies a bit too rudely while swatting away at Wind's hands as they reach for a cursed ring.

Hyrule smiles at them, sweetening the stress in the veteran's voice: "The little one managed to get him to share his rings!" he explains, pointing at the Skull Kid already on their feet and running to their dear friend, offering him an aventurine ring.

Warriors whistles, clearly interested.

"Forget it!" the veteran yells at him immediately, "I am not explaining all of this all over again!"

He jolts at the others, feverishly getting back all of his rings and slamming them in the box held possessively under his arm - he looks like a selfish bear stubbornly refusing to share a large bee-free beehive.

The last missing jewel he is unable to rip from the imp's little clutches.

Instead he accidentally rips their arm. Again.

The Chain freezes at the sight of the lone limb in Legend's grip.

Time laughs suddenly.

"I almost forgot you can do that," he says with disarming serenity.

Legend quickly puts the arm back where it should be; Skull Kid gives the ring back, snickering a little bit.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

sorry

College Student!Jackson Wang x College Student!Reader

summary: cliche meet ups are only supposed to happen once in the movies but it’s happened three times now and nothing has changed

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: a few curse words

A/N: I’m taking requests now if anyone is interested! Thank you for reading! 

-

This was the first day you had off in months. No class because your midterms were done and over with and no work on this very calm, sunny day. You got to sleep in, take your time getting ready if you even wanted to, and make your way to your favorite cafe with time to sit and enjoy a pastry and the warm, cozy environment. So far it had been a good day, you didn’t have to rush, you had plans to see your friends later in the day while you partied, and you could just enjoy your day by taking your time in whatever you chose to do. 

Before you left the cafe, you left a nice, hefty tip before heading to the door, a smile on your face, and feeling so relaxed. Of course, the universe doesn’t particularly like you feeling this way so when an opportunity to mess your day up even just a little bit occurred, the universe took that chance in the form of a man. He had turned a corner very quickly, bounding into you at full speed, making his ice-cold drink spill down your front, staining your shirt, and instantly making you shiver.

He instantly began to ramble about how late he was running to class, that he had woken up late, and he was so sorry. He asked over and over again how he could make it up to you but his eyes were nervously flickering in the direction of campus, where he was supposed to be.

“Please don’t worry about it, I was heading back home anyway. Just be careful,” You chuckled with an awkward smile. 

He smiled back, “Got it, again I am so sorry.” Then he was gone and you were on your way back home to get out of your stained wet shirt. 

So maybe the drink spilling was a little bump in the road, but the rest of your day had been relaxing and left you in a good mood. Especially now that you were ready for the party and felt and looked good. Now, all you had to do was get to that frat party and have the time of your life with your friends.

The car ride was fun, singing at the top of your lungs to the preparty playlist that was blasted through the car’s speakers. When you were finally able to find a parking spot, you felt light and ready to take on the night ahead of you, whatever it had in store.

The music from the house was loud, people already finding places to drink on the porch and the lawn outside because the house seemed to be packed already. A group decision was made to get drinks before making your way to the dance floor. The kitchen was filled with various mixed drinks, bottles, and cans, along with various people milling about just chilling and getting drinks. You grabbed a cup to make yourself a drink and proceeded to follow your friends closer to the music. 

And yet again, the universe intervened yet again. The house was so crowded it was almost inevitable that you would bump into somebody, but you were actively dodging people so you wouldn’t spill your drink or bump into them. It seemed other people were not doing the same. Someone smacked right into you, which in turn caused you to drop your drink and bump into someone behind you. 

“Oh shit, my bad. That was my fault, can I get you a new drink?” He asked.

“Oh, it’s you again. This feels like deja vu.”

“The least I can do is get you some napkins and a drink, follow me.” He replied, taking your wrist and tugging you back towards the kitchen. 

“I’m Jackson by the way,” he introduced himself as he threw a roll of paper towels your way before he grabbed a few bottles to make you a new drink.

“I’m Y/N, thanks for the drink and the napkins.”

“It’s the least I could do, can I buy you a new shirt too or?”

“Just the drink is fine, thank you.” You laughed, new drink in hand. “See you around.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be more careful like you told me.”

Running into the same guy twice in a day and both times involving a spilled drink was a strange coincidence. If this were some kind of romantic comedy it would have made sense, but it wasn’t. This was just some weird coincidence the universe sent to ruin your day, but maybe it should have tried harder, despite your wet feet and a strong drink, you were still able to finish the night off on a good note. 

A week went by with no Jackson run-ins and no coincidences with anybody at all. Today, you had a free evening and decided to join your friends at a night at the movies. You had even splurged and gotten yourself an overpriced box of candy and a big bag of popcorn. 

The universe intervened yet another time, was the third time the charm? Not for you, now this was just getting annoying. 

“Don’t even say it, Jackson, I know you’re sorry. Nice to see you again, and please, be careful.” You sighed, longingly staring at the spilled popcorn that was now strewn across the floor.

“I swear, I am not this clumsy. Maybe this is a sign from the universe.” He chuckled.

“I would say this is more of a sign to watch out for strangers, and for me to start going out somewhere that is not in this city.” 

“Let me buy you some more popcorn, I was just headed to the bathroom, but wait for me and I can be right out to buy you more.” 

“No, thank you though, I’ll just steal some from my friends.”

“I know I say sorry pretty often, but please know that I mean it,” Jackson mumbled sincerely.

“Hey, you’re not really costing me anything besides some more laundry to do and some money, I can manage. Please, don’t worry.” You replied.

He nodded slowly like he didn’t believe you, before bidding you goodbye and making his way to the bathroom as he had mentioned. Time to steal some popcorn and explain what had happened to yours.

For a few weeks, three to be exact, your mind began to wander to Jackson. Why did you see him everywhere? Why did something always have to be spilled at your sake? Was this some sort of message or sign? You decided, with a lot of convincing from your friends, that yes, it was. If you bumped into Jackson one more time, it would no longer be a series of coincidences, it would be some sort of divine intervention pulling you together. Not that you even believed in all the coincidences happening. Before they had happened to you, you were under the impression that they only happened in the movies and more specifically romantic comedies where she was a workaholic and he was some almost deadbeat sent to her to lighten her up and she made him act his age. You were both in college, the coincidental, reappearing meet-cutes were getting weird so why not give it a shot?

Perhaps the universe had heard you internal monologue, no, it definitely did. “Bump into Jackson?” Wonder and you shall receive. You were at the park one day, relaxing and enjoying the fresh air on a sunny day. Legs outstretched on a picnic blanket, the epitome of a relaxed look when chaos, in the form of Jackson, came crashing through the serene setting for the fourth time. 

“Heads up!” You heard, but before you had a chance to react a body came crashing down onto you. 

You groaned as you opened your eyes, meeting the warm brown eyes of the man the universe needed you to have already.

“I think I preferred the spilled drinks.” You laughed.

He rolled off of you with his cheeks dusted in warm blush, “I was actually just thinking about you the other day.” 

“Oddly enough, so was I. What were you thinking about?”

“That if I saw you again, it would be some kind of sign. I told myself I was going to ask you to hang out or on a date or something.” Jackson answered.

“I was actually thinking the same thing. All these cheesy movie meetings have to mean something right? Are you free soon?”

“I’m free right now!”

“Weren’t you playing something?”

“I think you can play soccer with one keeper, or they can just figure it out themselves. Let me help you clean up.”

“Careful, my water bottle isn’t closed properly, try not to spill it.” You joked.

“Oh haha, I saw that this time. Plus, if I did spill I could just make up for it extra on our date.” He winked, ever the clumsy gentleman.

[nayutai]

⇢ Pairing Nakamoto Yuta x Female OC

⇢ Genre fluff, smut

⇢ Word Count 18.210

⇢ Warnings cursing, name calling, OC is a bitch, mutual pining, they are both dumb, semipublic sex, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, yuta

Yasirah hums along to the Khalid song playing in her headphones as she leisurely makes her way to the student center. She makes a pit stop in the coffee shop on the first floor for a smoothie before finally stepping into the elevator. A wicked grin crosses her lips when she glances at her watch for the time. It’s 3:15 which means she’s officially fifteen minutes late for the SGA meeting which is a direct violation of the president’s rules. 

Her steps are light as she dances towards the meeting room reserved for the meeting. The thought of pissing off the seemingly unflappable SGA president Yuta has her buzzing with joy. No matter what goes wrong or how badly someone fucks up the man always takes it with a smile and comes up with a solution. It irritates her to no end so she’s made it the focus of her SGA career to shake him up. So far, she’s been unsuccessful but Yasirah has a good feeling about today. As Secretary, the meeting cannot start without her lest someone else pull out their laptops to keep minutes, but considering the rest of the governing body are either lazy as fuck or not allowed to take minutes because of their position; that will never happen.

She swings the conference room door open with a flourish to make her grand entrance, but she’s greatly disappointed to discover that the room is empty save for Yuta who is writing something on the whiteboard. Her watch says it’s now 3:17 which means everyone should be impatiently waiting for her arrival so that the meeting can start. There should be political unrest. There should be yelling. But no, it’s just Yuta with that insufferable smile on his face.

“Where the hell is everyone?” She grumbles, tapping on one of her wireless headphones to turn her music off and narrowing her eyes at her fellow executive board member. Even Seokjin, the university staff member tasked with babysitting them, is absent. The man hardly ever gives them a second glance but he’s annoyingly punctual. 

“I can see someone hasn’t checked the group chat.” Yuta sing songs, his trademark wide smile firmly in place. Yasirah is a flurry of movement as she struggles to dig her phone out of her bra. The rubbery material of her phone case decides that now is a great time to stick to her skin and she nearly drops her smoothie in the process.

Much to her dismay, she sees a message from Yuta from nearly an hour ago saying that today's meeting had been pushed back to 3:30 to ensure quorum due to several of the members being roped in last minute to speak at an admissions event. Yasirah wants to scream. Once again her efforts to piss off the smiling bitch in front of her have been foiled and it’s her own fault. She wants to launch herself right of one of the bay windows that line one wall of the conference room. 

“Have you been having a good day so far, Yasirah?” Yuta asks in an effort to strike up a conversation. He hates the way the silence in the room feels like it’s sucking all of the oxygen out of the air or maybe that’s just the results of his secretary brooding in the corner. Even when she’s sulking, she still looks beautiful and he’s irritated by the fact that he’s so aware of it.

“Talking to me before this meeting starts is in fact a hate crime. Make it stop.” She responds without even looking up from her cellphone. Yuta rolls his eyes because really he should’ve expected such a response from her, but he’s nothing if not persistent. 

“Did you hear that Coach K is leaving at the end of the season? Apparently he’s going to State which is-” His second attempt at conversation is interrupted by Yasirah dramatically dropping her head onto the table. He winces at the noise. No way that one didn’t hurt.

“You can stop pretending to be nice, Yuta. There’s no one here to praise you for being the golden boy.” She’s glaring at him like he’s a professor that just issued a ten page paper due in the middle of spring break. For the life of him, he can’t figure out why she hates him so much when he’s been nothing but nice to her. He sighs deeply and resigns himself to sitting in silence until the rest of the board shows up.

Yuta nearly collapses with relief  when the treasurer Khushi drags himself into the conference room. He always looks like he’s tired, high, or a combination of both, but he can do math problems in his head that it would take most people three years to figure out with a calculator without batting an eyelash. He offers him a nonchalant head nod as a greeting as he rests his longboard against the wall by the door before taking his unassigned assigned seat at the seat closest to the door.

“Kush, you look more tired than normal. You good?” Yuta questions with genuine concern for his friend. 

“Life is tiring, my dude.” Khushi responds in that slow, deliberate cadence that he’s known for. He reaches behind him as he leans back as far as the chair will allow to stretch his back. “Rah, you got any snacks? I’m hungry.”

A small smile crosses Yuta’s face at the tinkling bell sound of Yasirah giggling as she digs around in her backpack for a snack to give Khushi. She makes a comment about how she packs extra snacks on meeting days just for him as she tosses him a pack of animal crackers. Yuta can’t help the pang of jealousy that he’s plagued with at that comment. To anyone else, Yasirah is the best friend someone could ask for. She may be snarky and dismissed but for those lucky enough to be in her good graces she’s unerringly loyal and caring. Yuta on the other hand doesn’t get to see that side of her at all. He may as well be public enemy number one. He’s never understood why but he’s not crazy enough to outright ask her and risk the full force of her wrath.

The rest of the executive board slowly filter in as it gets closer to 3:30. Yuta’s stomach turns as Yasirah and one of the senators Jaehyun make eyes at each other across the room when he walks in. It’s no secret that they hook up from time to time but God he wishes they could at least attempt to be more discreet about it.

“Roll call!” He yells to get everyone’s attention. He starts running through the roster to mark everyone as present on his spreadsheet. Everyone is present and accounted for with the exception of the senior class senator Taeyong who is at an RA training.

Everything is going smoothly until they get to the last funding request in the pile that they need to get through before next week’s general body meeting. It’s incomplete. The responses are incredibly vague. The paperwork even has suspicious stains on it. Anybody can tell that the fraternity who submitted the application just wants to try and cash in on the generous reputation that SGA has developed since Yuta became president. It’s irritating to say the least that organizations are trying to advantage of his desire to help as many students as possible. SGA is loaded and yet previous presidents before him had always been very tight fisted with giving out funds and now he’s starting to see why.

“I don’t even think this one needs much discussion. On principle it’s eligible for nothing but rejection.” He passes the paperwork to Mark send around the table with a look of disdain on his face. Ever observant, Yasirah zones in on his visible irritation like a heat-seeking missile. This is her chance to prove that the man who never utters a cross word at anyone isn’t as nice as he would like everyone to believe.

“Aw, are you upset Mr. President? Did those naughty frat boys hurt your feelings?” She asks mockingly. Yuta can tell by the look on her face that she’s looking for a reaction and he’s trying his hardest not to give her one but it seems like every day she comes closer and closer to pushing him too far. 

“Yasirah, stop being a bitch for two seconds.” Normani speaks up from her spot next to Yuta’s antagonizer. As her best friend, Normani can get away with talking to her like that and he’s never been more thankful for the fact that she takes full advantage of that ability.

The half assed proposal is swiftly rejected just as Yuta had said it should be a few minutes later with a promise from resident frat boys Jaehyun and Johnny to antagonize the offending fraternity for wasting their time. With nothing else on the agenda for the board meeting, Yuta calls it to a close.

“Yuta, are you going to the Sigma party?” He looks over at Normani as he stuffs his laptop back into his bag. He’d heard that they’d be having a party tonight but he really hadn’t put much thought into whether or not he would go. Partying really isn’t his thing but he liked to show his face at one from time to time just to say he did.

“Mr. Goody Two Shoes? Going to a Sigma function? Yeah I’ll believe that when I see it.” Yasirah pipes up as she waits for Normani by the door. She’s smirking devilishly and not for the first time Yuta gets the urge to tell her to fuck off but that’s not how he does things. He grits his teeth and turns back to face Normani.

“Text me the address. I’ll be there.”

Yuta drops his bag onto his bedroom floor, face planting onto his mattress the second he’s in range. He can’t believe that he let Yasirah get under his skin enough that he’s actually committed to going to frat party on a Thursday night. He has an eight am math class tomorrow which is already hell to wake up for with a full night’s sleep. He kicks his legs like a child as he thinks about the hell he’s going to go through tomorrow.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Yuta sits up to face his roommate. Johnny is leaned against the door frame stuffing his mouth full of the cereal that Taeyong, who also lives with them, has specifically said is off limits. 

“I’m going to the Sigma party tonight.” Yuta cringes at the sound of the words as they leave his mouth. Part of him wants to play sick and tell Normani he can’t go but he’s nothing if not a man of his word. Plus he really doesn’t need her ragging him about this for the rest of the semester because that is exactly what she’ll do. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” Johnny stops stuffing cereal in his mouth, deciding that his do no evil roommate going to a fraternity rager is infinitely more interesting. “You hate parties.” Yuta groans in response. 

“I still hate parties, but Yasirah-” Johnny cuts him off by nearly choking to death on his own spit. Yuta firmly claps his friend on the back until his breathing returns to normal.

“Are you telling me that you let Yasirah bully you into going to a party?” Ashamed, Yuta simply nods. He picks at a stray strand on his comforter as the room falls silent. The sound of Johnny tapping away at his phone is deafening.

“You know what this means right?” Johnny shoves his phone back into his pocket and goes back to his cereal. He looks like he knows something that Yuta doesn’t and it’s unsettling Yuta’s spirit.

“That I’m probably gonna be late to Stats in the morning? That I’m going to hate my life just as much as Yasirah hates me.” Yuta is confused at the way Johnny rolls his eyes. What conclusion is he drawing that Yuta missed? He can’t think of anything else that he could possibly be getting at.

“Yasirah hates a lot people but you are definitely not one of them.” Johnny goes on a rant about women being complex creatures with simple desires and misplaced sexual tension. None of it means anything to Yuta. All he knows is that he can feel the barbs digging into his skin every time she speaks to him. Sure, he’s a mostly heterosexual man with eyes and isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s thought about what it would be like to sleep with Yasirah. She’s a bombshell in every sense of the work and fantastic in bed if Jaehyun is to be believed, but degradation is not and never has been something that got him off.

“I don’t believe that but I need to take a nap before this party so I don’t have time to argue with you on why you’re wrong.”

“You’d lose anyway. I told Andre that I’d help buy alcohol so I’ll see you at the party later.” 

Johnny leaves with very little fanfare but his words are still ringing in Yuta’s head long after he’s gone. His dick hopes that Johnny knows what he’s talking about but the logical side of him knows that testing his theory won’t lead to anything good. Yasirah Coleman might tick off all of the boxes he looks for in a partner, but the headache just isn’t worth it.

The modest brick house is practically vibrating as Normani all but drags Yuta towards the front door. She exchanges a few pleasantries with the twins Andre and Dante who have been tasked with manning the door while Yuta pays his door fee. 

“Aight y’all have fun and remember Hennything goes tonight.”

The only lights on in the whole house appear to be the ones in the kitchen and a few random strobe lights in the otherwise dark living room. Normani resumes her dragging as she pulls Yuta along to the kitchen. Neither one of them is surprised to find Jaehyun and Taeil setting up a game of beer pong on the spacious kitchen island. A chorus of yells erupts from the two SGA members when they spot Yuta and Normani. She lets him go in favor of pouring them both healthy servings of the seemingly unlimited Hennessy. 

“I thought Rah was just bullshitting when she said you were coming tonight.” Taeil giggles as he finishes the rest of what is obviously not his first drink. His eyes are glassy and dancing with inebriated joy. Normani disappears when she spots a few of her sorority sisters, leaving Yuta to watch the beer pong game progress as he slowly sips on his drink.

“Dude, you know this means we both owe her $30 right?” Jaehyun reminds him right before he sinks a ping pong ball into one of Taeil’s cups. Yuta can’t believe that his friends actually made bets against him, but then again he can’t really blame them either. “And you know Rah doesn’t fuck around when it comes to her money. She’s worse than Kush.”

“Fucking hell.” Taeil grumbles at the thought of having to actually give up his money. He quickly chugs the alcohol in and tosses the empty cup over his shoulder. Despite his intoxication, he easily returns the favor, sinking the ball into a cup on Jaehyun’s side of the island. 

Despite his drunkenness, Taeil makes quick work of Jaehyun who, true to his competitive nature, demands a rematch. Khushi seemingly appears out of nowhere and before Yuta can talk himself out of it he finds himself teamed up with Khushi against Taeil and Jaehyun. He’s definitely going to need more alcohol.

“Whee! Come on it’s time to go.” Yasirah types out a text to Normani as she waits for their other roommate Wheein to hurry up with whatever the hell it is she’s doing. She can hear her moving around in the kitchen followed by the sound of her gagging. Concerned, Yasirah runs to check on her friend. She finds her holding on to the refrigerator door handle for dear life with one hand while a fifth of vodka is clutched in the other. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened here.

“For fucks sake Wheein we are literally going to a frat party called Hennything Goes. There no reason to pregame this hard.” Yasirah complains as she snatches the bottle away from the tiny sorority girl that she’s feeling the urge to throttle right about now. 

“I hate Hennessy.” 

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Yasirah drags Wheein out of the apartment so they can start walking towards the Sigma house. Their apartment is almost half a mile away from the party and yet they can still hear the faint thumping from the bass of whatever song is currently playing. She readjusts her bralette, giving herself a final once over in the reflection of a car parked near the house. They breeze inside and immediately join Normani on the dance floor and get sucked into the mass of bodies twerking to Big Ole Freak.

A bead of sweat runs down her temple when Yasirah extricates herself from the random dude she’d decided to dance with. Being packed in that tightly is only fun when you’re drunk and the vodka shots she’d done earlier are long gone. She navigates the through the crowd to what she’s guessing is the kitchen in search of the Hennessy that tonight’s function is based on.

The familiar sound of Jaehyun yelling rises above the music. Sure enough, she finds him in the kitchen playing beer pong with Taeil and Khushi. There’s a fourth person at the table but he’s got his back to her. Her stomach sinks to her ankles when the mystery man turns to face his opponents, allowing her to get a look at his side profile. He’s cackling maniacally and, judging from Taeil and Jaehyun’s sour expressions, his laughter is at their expense. He’s wearing a basic pair of black jeans that hug his legs just right and a matching black t-shirt. His hair looks like he’s run his fingers through it one too many times but for whatever satanic reason it looks great on him. In short, he looks hot as hell, but that’s not something Yasirah would like to dwell on right now or ever for that matter.

“You bitches are cheating.” Taeil points a finger at Khushi and Yuta. He barely spares Yasirah a glance when she sidles up to the kitchen island after pouring herself a drink to watch this all go down. Khushi launches into an impassioned speech on angles and velocity and a whole host of other math bullshit that flies way over everyone’s head. 

“Aht aht!” Jaehyun waves his arms around dramatically in his bid to make the math talk stop. “We get it, Kush. You’re stupid smart and we’re cavemen, but what’s your excuse?” His eyes are narrowed as he stares Yuta down. The man in question picks up a red solo cup to his left, swirling the alcohol around as he peers over the rim of the cup with a devilish look on his face. He downs the dark liquor without so much as a grimace.

“I’m just better than you.” He emphasizes his statement by sinking the ball in the last remaining cup in their court. Taeil looks like he’s on the verge of having a meltdown while Jaehyun is already firmly in meltdown territory.

Everyone is so focused on the children throwing tantrums that no one notices the fact that Yasirah’s eyes have yet to leave Yuta’s face. Something about the cocky way that he’d declared his superiority had sparked something in her. Then there was the way he’d teasingly poked his tongue out as he’d lined up his game winning shot. She’s never seen this side of him and to say she’s intrigued by it would be a gross understatement. A ball of warmth is stirring violently in her lower abdomen but it’s not from the alcohol. Yasirah is turned on in the worst way possible.

“I hate it here!” Taeil screams. Yasirah is in agreement with him on that one. She needs to get out of here and fast before she does something stupid like beg Yuta to bend her over the granite countertop.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” She whispers suggestively in Jaehyun’s ear. A loaded look at his crotch when she pulls back from him sends her intended message loud and clear. His childish anguish is replaced almost instantly with a look that promises a night of mind-numbing pleasure which is exactly what she needs. 

“Let’s go.” They both chug the last of their drinks before Jaehyun leads her out of the kitchen. If she’d given into the urge to turn around she’d have seen the curious look on Yuta’s face as he watched her leave with his friend.

Yuta’s alarm goes off promptly at 7:15 am and the mellow bells tone may as well be jackhammer going full throttle on his temples. He fervently wishes for death but somehow manages to drag himself out of bed. The night before is a blur. His gut is tossing wildly so breakfast is out of the question. The coffeepot is churning out liquid gold while he rests his head against the kitchen counter. He curses himself for allowing himself to be so weak as to give into Yasirah’s manipulative ways. Every day he tells himself that today is the day he grows a spine and tells her to fuck off but he just can’t do it. No matter how evil and conniving she is, he can’t bring himself to defend himself for her. Who knows maybe he’s a glutton for punishment with an overzealous dealer. Either way, he feels stuck.

Math is even more of a soul sucker than normal and, contrary to his normal pattern, Yuta is the first student to book it out of the classroom. God smiled down on him and gave his religious theory professor some weird stomach bug so he’s officially done for the day, leaving him free to sleep off the hangover that plagues him. Sunglasses in place, hood pulled low on his head, he starts the walk across campus to wait on the shuttle that’ll take him back to his apartment complex. 

“Yuta!” Any other day and he would’ve stopped to converse with whoever is yelling after him, but today is not any other day. He is in no mood to socialize today. In fact, he would rather walk off the roof of the student union. He keeps forging ahead as if he hadn’t heard them. Unfortunately for him, his stroke of good luck ended with his last class getting cancelled.

“Dammit Yuta didn’t you hear me calling you?” His eyes go wide when Yasirah yanks him around by the wrist to face. The shock quickly wears off as his expression sours. What could she possibly want with him.

“Yes, I heard you.” He shrugs her hand off of him but he doesn’t get much further down the sidewalk before she’s grabbing at him again. Yuta wants to scream, but that would only make the pounding in his head worse than it already is. 

“If you heard me, why didn’t you answer me?”

“Because I didn’t want to now if you’ll excuse me I have a bus to catch.” He walks away from her for the second and hopefully the last time. Hot, roiling anger blooms in his chest when she grabs his wrist again. This time, she doesn’t let go as she drags him along with her in the opposite direction of the bus stop.

“If you’re taking me somewhere to kill me just make it swift.” He pleads. His will to fight is long gone as he allows Yasirah to drag him behind her like a wagon.

“I’m not going to kill you, stupid. I’m taking you home. You look like shit on a stick.” Yuta nearly leaps out of his skin. The she-devil with an iron grip on his arm has never gone out of her to do anything for him that didn’t involve public humiliation and a heap of insults. She’s definitely going to kill him. Oh well, he’s lived a good life until now. 

She all but forces him into the passenger seat when they finally reach her car. He knew that she drove a BMW, a gift from her parents according to Normani,  but he’d never seen it for himself. The bucket seat hugs him like an old friend when he settles into it. If he had to stay in this spot for the rest of his life, he definitely wouldn’t complain. 

His eyes drift closed in an effort to compartmentalize the subtle throbbing that still plagues his temples. He’s doing his best not to fall asleep but apparently he fails because he’s awakened by Yasirah poking at his face. His hands move on their own accord in an attempt to make it stop so that he can settle back into his peaceful slumber.

“Oh thank God you’re not dead.” Yasirah continues her pestering until Yuta finally opens his eyes, turning his head to glare at her though the fact that his dark shades totally obscure his eyes makes it a lot less threatening than he probably intended. “Now get out of my car.”

He nearly trips to his death, but Yuta is out of her car faster than he thought was possible in his current state once he realizes they’re parked in front of his building. Moving that fast was a horrible idea as the headache he’s been nursing is now accompanied by dizziness. Her eyes follow him down the sidewalk a ways, watching him for a minute as he struggles to deal with the stairs. She has a small meltdown before yanking her keys from her ignition. Yuta protests her help at first but ultimately gives in to the steadying grip she has on his waist as she assists him to the door of his apartment.

Yasirah is praying that his apartment is empty when they reach it, but when Yuta hands her his key to unlock the door it’s clear that her prayers have gone unanswered. Three pairs of eyes turn to face the awkward pair as they stumble through the front door. 

“Are you useless twats just going to stare or are you going to help me?” She snaps as the three men on the couch simply continue watching some random hockey game.

“At your service, Your Highness.” Yasirah chooses to ignore Johnny’s sarcasm in favor of making a run for it while he and Taeyong take care of Yuta. Jaehyun has other plans. She stops with her hand on the door knob when she feels his hand on her forearm much like she’d done to Yuta earlier.

“What made you decide to bring Yuta home?” This is exactly what she was hoping to avoid. Jaehyun has a one track mind and once he’s got his mind on something he puts his all into it. Yasirah’s convinced that’s why he’s so good in bed.

“You saw him. I’m surprised he was even upright.” She attempts to draw on his human sensibilities, but she knew it wouldn’t work before the words even left her mouth. Jaehyun was one of her close friends before he ever stuck his dick in her. He knows her entirely too well to be fooled by some bullshit like that. He knows that she doesn’t give a

“And? Since when do you help people you don’t like?” Jaehyun questions in a tone that makes Yasirah nervous. It’s the same tone he uses when he knows something she doesn’t and it never ends well for her. They both know that the answer to his question is never but something tells her that he knows something else that he’s not saying.

“Bye, Jaehyun.” 

Yasirah hardly ever looks forward to SGA General Body meetings, but today seems to be an exception. She’s actually looking forward to listening to people begging for money to go to random conferences and trainings to get out of going to their classes. She blames her excitement on the fact that this is the only organization she’s involved in that Wheein and Normani are also apart of which means she might actually get to see them since they’ve both been busy with preparing for new members to join their respective sororities. However, if she’s really honest with herself, a certain president with impressive beer pong skills is the actual source of her anticipation. Yasirah hasn’t seen or spoken to him since she dropped him off at his apartment on Friday which isn’t out of the ordinary, but now it makes her feel weird.

She fiddles with one of the buttons on the SGA polo shirt they have to wear for meetings as she waits for her ham and swiss sandwich and chai tea at Starbucks. It’s taking a lot longer than she was expecting and part of her wants to leave to keep from being late for the meeting, but this is her only chance to get food until after the meeting. The general body meetings can last two hours depending on how many people show up and Yasirah knows that there’s no way she’ll last the whole meeting without snapping at someone in a hunger-driven rage. So she waits and waits some more. By the time she gets her food and sprints up the stairs, she’s on the cusp of being late. Normally she eats her food before going upstairs to the meeting but there just simply isn’t time for that today. She manages to slide into the room just as Seokjin is closing the door to start the meeting. The only available seat at the exec board table is right next to Yuta. Fantastic. 

He looks up at her from his seat when she approaches, nodding his head in acknowledgment. A snarky comment threatens to fly out of her mouth but she tamps it down at the last second, choosing to mumble hello instead. Yasirah hurriedly pulls her laptop out of her bag. They jump straight into the presentations with little preamble. She’s polishing off half of her sandwich in between presenters and reaches for the other half when the sound of a stomach growling on her left catches her attention. Yasirah side eyes Yuta who is acting like it wasn’t him but she knows better. Though she definitely wants it, Yasirah finds herself sliding the rest of her sandwich in Yuta’s direction. He attempts to push it back but she blocks him.

“Just eat it, Yuta.” She mumbles under her breath as she starts typing again. A strange sense of satisfaction flutters in her chest when she sees him take a bite out of the sandwich. Normani bumps Yasirah’s right knee with her own to get attention, pointedly looking between the sandwich in Yuta’s hands and her best friend. Yasirah waves her off but she knows that Normani isn’t going to let it go. 

It’s a struggle for Yasirah to keep her facial expression in check as the two students currently speaking struggle through their funding request. It’s clear that they’re winging it and she makes a note of that in her minutes to bring up at next week’s board meeting. Thankfully, they’re able to cut the slackers short as the even they need the money for is at the end of the week and therefore ineligible for SGA funding since the executive board won’t be able to meet to vote on their funding request before said event. The students protest loudly but rules are rules as Yuta firmly reminds them.

A couple more funding requests and a complaint about the snack selections in the on-campus convenience stores and Yasirah is booking it downstairs with Normani and Wheein. This is the one night that they’re able to get dinner together like normal and they plan to take full advantage. 

“So,” Normani starts, dragging the word out suspiciously. Yasirah was millimeters away from dunking her chicken nugget in her barbecue sauce but ceases all movement. “What’s going between you and Yuta?”

And there it is. Yasirah knew this was coming eventually and apparently so did Wheein who has pushed her french fries to the side as well. They’re both staring at her expectantly as if they’re waiting for her to spill her guts on something.

“Why would something be going on between me and Yuta?” Yasirah’s gazes flits between her friends as if she’s watching a tennis match. Wheein giggles like a cat that caught the canary while Normani still has that same smug look on her face. “Why are y’all staring at me?”

Wheein reveals that Taeyong told her about her dropping Yuta off at their apartment last Friday which they had deemed incredibly suspicious. Normani adds on the fact that Yasirah gave her sworn enemy half of her sandwich when previously the only people she’s shared food with is them and Khushi. Yasirah tries to argue her defense but gets shut down quickly.

“The math is just not mathing, my love.” Wheein taunts. She steals one of Yasirah’s chicken nuggets after realizing that she’s eaten all of hers. “I think you wanna ride him off into the sunset.”

“Oop! Can’t say I disagree with that one.” Normani chimes in.

“I don’t want to have sex with him. I have just come to realize that I may have been wrong about him and have decided that I don’t have to antagonize him.” Yasirah expects her declaration to end this conversation so they can move on to something else, but she should’ve known that wouldn’t be the case. Not with her messy ass friends.

“Yeah you totally wanna smash.” Normani and Wheein giggle incessantly at Normani’s crass deduction. Yasirah hates the both of them wholeheartedly and briefly contemplates leaving them in this McDonalds to find their own way back to their apartment. She won’t say it out loud but they’re dead on the mark with her wanting to ride Yuta like a mechanical bull. Damn their intuition.

If anyone were to be standing outside Yuta’s apartment, they would think someone was being brutally murdered inside. Johnny had decided that everyone needed “bro time” that didn’t involve the letters S, G, or A which someone how resulted in their living room becoming the venue for a Smash Bros showdown. Beer is flowing and the pizza is abundant as they all scream at the tv screen like banshees. Even Khushi, who is normally the calm before the storm that is everyone else, is hurling curse words left and right. Mark leaps from his spot on the couch to loudly proclaim his victory when he ultimately wins the match much to everyone’s dismay. This is his fourth win in a row.

“I hate you.” Yuta mumbles glaring in Mark’s direction but the younger boy is much too high off his win streak to care. He blows kisses at Yuta who flips him off in response.

“Somebody call Yasirah to put this little shit in his place. I need her to avenge me.” Taeil demands. Yasirah is widely known as the best Smash player on campus. She would absolutely throttle Mark and send his streak crashing and burning to the pits of hell. 

Yuta doubts that Yasirah even remembers but the first time they met was at a Smash tournament their dorm was having freshman year. He was in awe of her then and despite the years that have gone by that hasn’t changed a bit. She gives him hell every chance she gets and yet he can’t find it in himself to hate her despite numerous attempts to do exactly that.

“Speaking of Yasirah,” Taeyong starts, taking a pause to polish off the last of his beer. “has anyone noticed that she’s actually being nice to, Nakamoto?”

His question is met with a chorus of confused agreement as people start realizing that the normal barbs that Yasirah liked to hurl Yuta’s way are all but nonexistent these days. Jaehyun brings up the sandwich she’d shared with him at the last general body SGA meeting which leads to the rest of the guys pointing out things they’d noticed as well. Yuta sits in silence as he takes it all in. He’d noticed that she wasn’t as much of a bitch as she’s known to be, but her niceness still held a hard edge to it so he’d just assumed Normani’s threats had finally gotten through to Yasirah.

“I even called my mom to see if her and the WhatsApp aunties had seen any signs of the apocalypse starting.” Khushi mentions as he munches on the chips he snatched from Haechan a few minutes ago. 

“You all know why she’s doing this right?” Johnny questions with that same mischievous look he’d had on his face right before the Sigma party. Yuta automatically knows what he’s going to say and he’s already dreading the words about to come out of Johnny’s mouth. 

“She wants that Japanese monster cock.” Everyone with something in their mouths collectively chokes when Taeil steals Johnny’s thunder with his own assumptions. Johnny high fives him while the whole room except Yuta and Khushi dissolve into maniacal laughter. 

“You’re all a bunch of lying bastards.” Yuta mutters as he reaches to pull another beer from the yeti cooler by Mark’s feet. 

“And you,” Yuta pins Jaehyun down with what he hopes is a very menacing stare, but he’s four beers deep and not sure of its effectiveness at this point, “how can you be so cool with them thinking your girl wants to fuck me?”

“Yasirah is not my girl. We both just like to fuck.” Jaehyun responds casually. “And she definitely wants to fuck you.” 

Yuta vehemently disagrees with him which leads to another debate amongst the small crowd of horn dogs stuffed into the small apartment living room. Haechan points out that Khushi, who has been noticeably detached from the conversation, has known Yasirah the longest out of all of them and is therefore an expert on interpreting her actions. A point that Yuta decides that he can concede to. Everyone waits with bated breath as Khushi considers his words carefully.

“Whether or not Yasirah wants to have sex with Yuta is a moot point. She’s entirely too prideful and stubborn to ever initiate anything.” Khushi explains much. His attentive audience is more than disappointed and they make sure he knows it. 

“Fuck all that, am I right or not?” Johnny demands. The aquarius in him refusing to back down from the topic until he hears what he wants to hear. The room falls into silence once more as they all wait for Khushi to answer his question.

“You’re right but like I said she’ll never act on it unless Yuta makes the first move.” Yuta launches one of the many empty beer cans at Johnny’s head when the gloating giant throws Khushi’s confirmation back in his face. He should sleep with one eye open tonight. 

“All of you are lying sacks of shit and I’m going to prove it.” The gears in Yuta’s brain are already spinning as he comes up with a plan to confront Yasirah with this new information. Khushi may know her well but no one knows Ms. Yasirah Coleman better than the woman herself.

Yasirah nearly jumps out of her skin when her phone suddenly vibrates against her chest and brings her back to reality. It’s not the special vibration pattern she’d set for her parents so she hits ignore on the call and refocuses on the episode of Bones that has a strangle hold on her attention. Special Agent Seeley Booth leaps through a glass window at the Jeffersonian just as Yasirah’s phone vibrates once more. To say she’s irritated at this point would be an understatement. She pauses her tv show with a huff and answers the phone call without even glancing at the caller id to see who it is.

“Someone better be dying.” She mutters into the mouth piece. If the person on the other end has any sense then they will hang up and leave her be. Unfortunately for the both of them, said person is five vodka shots deep and all sense of self-preservation left on shot number three.

“Do you want to fuck me? All the guys say you do.” 

What the fuck?

Yasirah pulls her phone away from her ear and nearly chokes on her own spit when she sees Yuta’s name on the screen. There’s just no way in hell that he called her to ask her that. This is either one of Johnny and Jaehyun’s sick games or Yuta has stuck his head in a microwave. Either way someone will have to catch a fade for this.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Yasirah questions incredulously. Her tv show is all but forgotten as she struggles to maintain her composure. 

“No, it’s not. I’m just tired of them talking about it and I want to prove them wrong.” Yuta replies. Ice floods her veins at the fact that other people have actually noticed her subtly pining after her sworn enemy. Apparently, discretion isn’t one of her strong suits after all. She doesn’t realize that she’s fallen silent until Yuta calls her name to get her attention.

“So just tell me I’m right and they’re wrong because I’m drunk and I want to sleep now.”

“I can’t do that.” Yasirah whispers after a beat. She doesn’t know why she’s decided that now of all times to be completely honest with Yuta but the bell has been rung and there’s no going back now. 

The line falls silent once more as she waits for Yuta’s response. He’s quiet so long that she begins to think that he’s fallen asleep like he mentioned he wanted to do. Just as she about to hang up a bomb goes off in her ear. To say that Yuta is pissed off would be a gross understatement. Yasirah is so stunned by the sudden change in his demeanor that her brain seems to be short circuiting.

“You’ve made my life a living hell for two years and this whole time you just wanted some dick? Are you insane?” The anger in his voice is nearly palpable. She knows that he has every right to be angry with her so she simply lets him vent until he gets it all out. 

“In my defense,” Yasirah starts, “fucking you genuinely never crossed my mind until that night at the Sigma party. I realized that you’re not one of those boring Mary Jane try hards that’s overly nice to everyone.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I was so nice to you because I liked you?” Yuta sounds incredibly frustrated at the fact that he’s apparently been pining after her the entire time they’ve known each other despite the fact that she’s evil incarnate. Yasirah didn’t think it was possible to feel any lower than she already did but she was incorrect.

“Yuta…” Yasirah trails off. She wants to apologize for being so blind and bitchy but he doesn’t give her the chance to get her thoughts together. The beep of her phone notifying her that the call has been connected feels much too final.

Days pass and Yuta’s phone call is still weighing heavily on Yasirah’s mind. She’s tried to talk to him about it but each of her attempts have been shot down. He doesn’t want to talk to her any more than he has to and she’s not about to continue to push the issue. The stress of her caseload in conjunction with this boy drama is stressing her out in a major way. Normally, she’d call Jaehyun and blow off some steam with him but he has apparently decided to grow a moral compass at the absolutely worst time possible.

I don’t care what Yuta says. He’s still head over heels for you and now that I know that it would be against the bro code to fuck you.

Yasirah scoffs at the memory of how Jaehyun had rejected her “you up?” text. She got less than three hours of sleep that night and it’s clearly evident when she stalks into the SGA meeting room the next afternoon like a storm cloud in Nike running shorts. A scheduling mishap with the meeting space meant that this week’s general body meeting had to be pushed to Friday as opposed to it’s normal Tuesday. Since she only has one class on Friday mornings, the idea of spending her coveted free time listening to people bitch instead of catching on all of the hours of sleep she’s missed out on this week has Yasirah on edge.

She’s a full thirty minutes early for the meeting but taking up residence in Starbucks had quickly become boring since she had somehow managed to forget her headphones at home this morning. The sound of coffee machine whirring and students conversating was grating on her nerves, forcing her to retreat to the political science building. She’d been pleased to realize that not even Yuta had shown up yet; therefore, allowing her to finally have peace and quiet. It doesn’t last though.

Her quiet sanctuary is soon breached by no one than Mr. Nakamoto himself. He strolls in looking like freshly printed money and Yasirah finds herself wanting to slam his well-rested face into a wall. Yuta looks surprised to see her already in her seat but chooses to start preparing for the meeting as opposed to acknowledging her presence verbally. Or so she thought.

“Where’s your shirt?” He asks out of the blue. She looks up at him and stares blankly as her brain tries to comprehend what he just said to her. Yuta helps her out by gesturing to the SGA insignia embroidered on his polo that matches the one that Yasirah would be wearing as well if she hadn’t forgotten all about it until this very moment. She groans deeply at the thought of the shirt buried somewhere in the pile of laundry that Wheein had finally forced her to do yesterday. It’s a fifteen dollar fine and a “stern talking to” from Seokjin every time they forget to wear it to general body meetings and official school events. A novel punishment but one that she hasn’t been subjected to all school year. 

Yasirah has resigned herself to having to pay the fine when something soft collides with her forehead and falls into her lap. It’s an SGA polo. Her head whips to look at Yuta who is writing on the white board as if he hasn’t just saved her twenty dollars. Not one to waste time, Yasirah snatches her own shirt over her head despite her present company and quickly replaces it with the shirt she’s been given. It’s a little big on her but it doesn’t matter. Yuta just saved her ass because she really didn’t want to hear Seokjin’s mouth today.

“Why?” She asks. The word hangs in the air more like an olive branch than a question of clarification.

“I always keep an extra in my bag in case I forget.” Yuta mentions, still facing  away from her. “I know a twenty dollar fine probably means nothing to you, but despite everything I don’t like the idea of you suffering and Seokjin is a stickler for rules no matter how laid back he seems.”

“Thank you.” Yasirah contemplates her next words carefully. “I’m sorry too…for everything.”

Yuta shrugs as he takes a seat in one of the chairs meant for the students who decide to show up tonight. 

“Water under the bridge but, if you’re still interested, I would be honored to have sex with you.” He grins devilishly at her shocked expression. Her mouth opens and shuts numerous times as she tries to come up with a response. Thankfully, Khushi walks in and saves her from her own hormones.

Yasirah curses up a storm the entire way to Yuta’s off campus apartment. She curses Normani. She curses Yuta. She curses every decision she’s made in her life that’s led her to this moment. She curses it all. Jaehyun had hosted a party at their place the night before and of course Normani just had to make the bright ass decision to mix her light and dark liquor. It’s a wonder the girl even made it home in one piece. She has been avoiding everything Yuta-related like the plague since the SGA meeting on Friday, but she’s nothing if she’s not a great friend so here she is staring at the front door of his apartment to get her best friend’s wallet. Yasirah’s fist meets his door a lot more aggressively than is necessary for a Sunday morning, but she doesn’t have it in her to care. She knocks again when she doesn’t hear any movement on the other side of the door.

Her patience is running incredibly thin and she contemplates leaving, but she told Normani that she would pick up her wallet so she knocks a third time. This time she finally hears what sounds like someone yelling from somewhere inside the apartment. The door swings open a second later to reveal Yuta in all his shirtless glory. A pair of gray sweatpants hang dangerously low on his trim hips. A reflective glint near his navel draws her attention away from his crotch long enough to register the fact that Yuta apparently has a belly button piercing. No shirt. Belly ring. Messy bed head. He looks like sex on legs and while Yasirah has never denied that Yuta is handsome being fully confronted with that fact when she hasn’t had sex in weeks is torture.

“Yasirah?” Yuta vigorously rubs at his tired eyes. There’s no way that she’s standing at his front door right now in the tiniest pair of shorts he’s ever seen. Alas, the scene in front of him remains the same when he drops his hands. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, trust me I’d rather be anywhere but here.” She somehow manages to clear the unsavory thoughts from her brain enough to muster up some of her usual sass. Yasirah can’t let him see how he affects her. It’s bad enough that he already knows that she wants him. “Normani left her wallet here so if you could give it to me so I can go that would be great.”

Yasirah knows she’s doing too much. She’s very aware of that fact, but now that everything is out in the open she doesn’t know how to act around Yuta so she’s defaulted to what she knows best. He narrows his eyes at her but says nothing. She takes a few deep breaths to compose herself when he disappears back into his apartment without a word. He thrusts the wallet into Yasirah’s outstretched hand when he returns. She grabs hold of it expecting for this to be the end of this unwanted interaction but the of course men ruin everything. Yuta yanks on the wallet, wrapping his free arm around Yasirah’s waist to keep her steady when she comes tumbling at him.

“What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?” Yasirah is incredulous and yet even to her own ears her words have no bite. She’s motionless in her arms, staring up at his unfairly beautiful face.

“You talk too much.” His lips cover hers in a searing kiss that makes her lightheaded. Nobody has ever kissed her with this much emotion and Yasirah can already see herself becoming addicted to that feeling. 

She moves along with him when he steps backwards into his apartment until he’s able to close the door and press her against it. Normani’s wallet hits the ground but neither one of them can find it in them to care. Too wrapped up in each other to worry about whether or not anything falls out of it. A groan vibrates deep in Yuta’s chest when he grips her ass in both of his hands, using his hold on her to grind himself against her center. She gasps at the pressure on her engorged clit. It feels so good but it’s not enough. His now unoccupied lips busy themselves with mapping out the sensitive spots along her neck while her fingers tug on his hair with every successful find. 

If she had the presence of mind, Yasirah would be embarrassed at the way she whimpers when Yuta completely separates himself from her. She reaches for him but he keeps moving further and further away. Her feet start moving, seemingly on their own accord, to follow him. 

The play follow the leader all the way to his bedroom where he stops to stand next to his bed. Yasirah stands in the open door way suddenly unsure of herself. She’s trying to think with her brain and not her clit but they both seem to be in very horny agreement. It’s her heart that’s holding out. She’s got this weird feeling in her chest that this is going to be monumental in some way. Two against one are damning odds and she seals her fate with the soft click of the lock on his bedroom door.

“Where are your roommates?” Yasirah questions hesitantly.

“Not here.” That’s all she needs to know.

Yuta’s hands are all over her the second she’s back within arm’s reach of him. He eases her down onto his bed, pushing the mess of blankets out of the way the best that he can without detaching his lips from hers. He’s spent his entire college career thus far fantasizing what it would be like to have her beneath him like this and Yuta plans to savor every moment.

He memorizes every whimper and satisfied sigh as he maps out her sweet spots with his wandering hands. It’s when he flicks at her clit with his thumb that he discovers his true weakness. His name falls from Yasirah’s lips on the heels of a moan as she reaches down to grab a fistful of his hair. He nearly loses it then and there.

“Say it again.” Yuta demands. He sucks her clit into his mouth and laves the sensitive bud with his tongue in earnest. His efforts are greatly rewarded as his name echoes off of the walls of his room like a desperate plea for mercy.

Yasirah lifts her hips in an attempt to roll them against his face, but Yuta is having none of that. He uses one arm to anchor her hips to the bed with strength that she would’ve never guessed that he possessed. Yasirah had always thought that he was weak almost dainty even. Being proved wrong pushes her that much closer to the precipice. Yasirah is forced to take what he gives her, nothing more and nothing less. Thankfully, Yuta is a generous lover. Her back arches when he slides two of his elegant fingers knuckle deep into her gushing cunt. He watches her intently from his spot between her legs as he slowly drags his fingers out of her until he finds what he’s looking for. 

Stars dance behind Yasirah’s eye lids as Yuta’s assault on her clit is amplified by him constantly prodding at her g spot. It’s taking all of her mental fortitude to keep from accidentally crushing his skull between her thighs but she’s quickly losing herself to the pleasure. The whole time he’s watching her. He doesn’t want to miss a thing. Yasirah blinks her eyes open long enough to make eye contact with him between her legs and it’s more than she can take. She shoves her fist in her mouth at the last second to muffle her screams as her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding bullet train. Yuta works her through it until the oversensitivity becomes too much and she pushes him away. 

Tremors wrack her body as Yuta shifts back onto his haunches. He fiddles with the waistband of his sweatpants nervously. Insecure thoughts about what Yasirah might think of him cloud his mind but he shoves them away along with his sweatpants. He’s focused on getting his pants off his legs without toppling off of the bed like a fool and misses the way Yasirah’s mouth drops open at the sight of him hard and ready to ruin her. He’s slightly above average in length and thicker than a beer can. Her eyes nearly roll back in her head at the mere thought of how well he’s going to stretch her out. 

Yuta is taken by surprise when he finally gets his pants off only to be forced onto his back. He doesn’t take long to catch on though. His hands knead at her ass as Yasirah grinds along his rigid length, coating him in her arousal. He watches her in amazement. His eyes dart from her face contorted in pleasure to the tantalizing way her breast sway with every rock of her hips to the mess of their combined excitement pooling on his abdomen. He wants this image, this moment permanently burned into the back of his eyelids for all eternity. 

“Condom.” Yuta is so focused on making her feel good that he doesn’t comprehend what she’s saying to him. Yasirah ignores the way her heart melts at Yuta cutely blinking up at her in confusion and repeats herself. “Condom, Yuta. We need a condom.”

He finally catches up to the moment, rolling them over so that he can dig around in his nightstand for a condom. His breath catches in his throat when Yasirah snatches the foil packet from him to roll the latex on him herself. She strokes him a few times before urging Yuta onto his back once again. The time for teasing is long gone. Her nails dig into the bare skin of his chest when she lines him up with her entrance, taking all of him in a single plunge. Yuta bares his throat at the feeling of being inside her. He swears that he hear angels singing whatever song it is that they sing in times of immense joy. Yasirah is just as affected above him as she adjusts to the stretch. She feels like she’s being split in half in the best way possible. 

Yuta sings her praises endlessly as Yasirah sets a steady rhythm that has the both of them flying high. He meets every downward motion of her hips with an upward thrust of his own. Every ounce of his concentration is focused on finding that elusive spot that he knows will make her scream his name like he wants. Yasirah’s hips stutter suddenly as a garbled mess of curse half words falls from her lips. 

“There it is.” He grunts. The gravelly sound sends a thrill down her spine as she gushes around him.

Yuta is merciless as he makes sure to batter the spot he’s mapped out. Yasirah does her best to keep up but she’s quickly overwhelmed. Seeing her plight, Yuta urges her down to him until they’re chest to chest, wrapping his arms around her. He slows his pace to a gentle rocking of his body in and out of hers as he kisses her lips tenderly. But she’s craving more. The desire to be aching from him for days drives her pleas for Yuta to fuck her harder, faster, and he is only too happy to obliger her demands.

Yasirah’s nails are beginning to draw blood where they’re digging into his shoulder blades but Yuta couldn’t care less. He’s dancing on the edge of something monumental and he fully intends to take her with him. A flash of white hot heat shoots down his spine and he’s coming. Yasirah tumbles over the edge right behind him, twitching in his hold from the force of her orgasm. 

Normally, she’d be damn near comatose after coming that hard but Yuta’s dick is more than just big; it’s magical as well. Yasirah feels like invigorated and tingly. She can feel the soreness starting to set in as the two of them try to catch their breath but she’s feeling the urge to go do volunteer work and bake cookies. 

“Wanna go again?” Yuta asks once his heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest. He grins devilishly when Yasirah moves to position herself between his outstretched legs. He sends a silent prayer up to God to keep his roommates away as long as possible.

Yuta drums on the top of Mark’s head playfully as he joins him, Khushi, and Jaehyun at the table they’ve staked out in the library. Midterms are coming up so they’re all supposed to be studying but it’s clear from the sheer amount of snacks piled in the center of the table that there won’t be much learning going on tonight. 

“Yo, where are all the other areas?” Jaehyun asks Yuta the second he sits down. Mark and Khushi groan out, clearly already having been tortured by whatever weed-induced epiphany that Jaehyun has had.

“Other areas?”

“Yeah, like the government tried to hide Area 51 but we found out. So where are areas 1 through 50?” Jaehyun slams his hand down onto his closed textbook authoritatively. “I’m telling you man something hinky is going on here.”

“It’s the American government, Jae. Something hinky is always going on.” Khushi deadpans. That only triggers another realization for Jaehyun as forces them to listen to another one of his theories about the government. Mark drags him to go buy more snacks since they apparently don’t have enough, leaving Khushi and Yuta to enjoy a few moments of peace.

Yuta checks his phone for the millionth time in the past hour. All that’s waiting for him is a few emails from professors, a shipping notification from Amazon, and a calendar notification reminding him to pay his rent. He opens his text messages to make sure his phone isn’t just playing him for a fool, but Yasirah has in fact not texted him back. They’d been spamming each other with spongebob memes, a personal favorite of hers he’s discovered, but she had yet to reply to the one he’d sent her nearly an hour ago.

“Why are you staring at your phone like it ruined your life?” Yuta waves Khushi off, tensing up when the slim device vibrates in his hand. He doesn’t even get a chance to read the message before his phone is snatched from him.

“Yaya?” Khushi questions with a suspicious look on his face. “That better not be who I think it is.”

“Thinking is bad, Kush. Now give me my phone back, please.” Yuta reaches across the table to try and take his phone back, but Khushi uses his long arms to his advantage to keep it out of his reach. Yuta’s anxiety is shooting through the room as he scrambles up to get his phone back when he see Khushi’s fingers sliding around the screen.

“You filthy liar!” Khushi doesn’t resist when Yuta snatches his phone from him. To in shock by whatever it was he saw. Yuta is relieved to see that he didn’t go through their messages, but he knows there’s no use in lying about who the message is from anymore when he sees Yasirah’s contact screen open on his phone.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, Khushi. I’m so deadass. She might actually kill me.” Yuta does his best to convey the seriousness of this situation. Khushi makes a grand gesture of pretending to lock his lips and toss away the key.

“Your secret is safe with me, but how long has this been going on? If you don’t me asking that is.” Khushi is the picture of bewilderment as he tries to process the fact the secret he just uncovered.

“A few weeks.” Yuta’s responds absentmindedly as he goes back to his texts to see what Yasirah said. His eyes nearly bug out of his head at what he sees. 

YaYa: TL 1022 🏇🏽

YaYa: door code is 0956

“I gotta go.” He rushes out while shoving his stuff back into his bag. Khushi shakes his head as he watches Yuta bold for the exit like his ass is on fire. He’d always known that the two of them had the potential to go down this path but never in a million years did he actually think it would happen.

If someone had told Yuta a month ago that he would be balls deep in Yasirah Coleman several times a week, he would’ve had them committed. Now here he is not even thinking twice about abandoning his studies when his phone buzzes with messages that are obviously an invitation to a booty call. As a business law major, she shouldn’t have access to the practice rooms that are strictly for instrumental music majors but it seems that she has once again defied all of the odds. Probably one of the many perks of being related to the university’s most favored donors. It’s a ten minute walk from the library to the TL building but he plans to do it in five. He’s already at half mast at the thought of bending her over to have his way with her.

The sight that greets Yuta when he enters the practice room nearly sends him to an early grave. Yasirah sits atop the baby grand piano in the corner just as naked as the day she was born. The lighting is shitty but that doesn’t stop her soaked folds from glistening tantalizingly. Yuta’s mouth is watering as he approaches the siren that summons him in her neediest times, dropping to his knees without a word. Not like they need to speak anyway. They’ve become masters at reading each other’s bodies like the backs of their hands. He works hard to get her off quickly as he strums her body into a fever pitch. Yasirah’s still coming down from her high when Yuta slides in deep. 

All traces of the sun have disappeared when they finally emerge from their temporary paradise. Yasirah whines at the way her legs protest her every move until Yuta eventually takes pity on her and hoists her into his arms. She directs him to her car in near empty parking lot, surprising him by hopping into the passenger seat once he’s set her down. 

“How in the world are you going to drive from over there?”

“I’m not. You are now get in.” Yuta gags on his own spit. No way in hell she expects him to drive her very expensive car, but from her rapidly souring expression that is exactly what she means for him to do and she’s getting agitated with him not following directions. 

He drops his bag onto the backseat before carefully getting behind the wheel. The engine roars to life with a push of a button. Yuta begs God not to let anything happen to this car while he’s responsible for it before hesitantly easing out of the space. They both yelp when he accidentally gives it too much gas as he pull out of the parking lot. The drive is uneventful after that but he’s never been more thankful to see an apartment complex come into view in all of his days. 

“So,” Yuta holds her door open as Yasirah stretches her stiff limbs next to the car, “I guess this is good night?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Good night, Yuta.” She presses her lips to his in farewell. Yuta’s blushes at the way he chases her for more when she pulls away.

“Good night, Yasirah.” He whispers into the void between them. She pecks his lips once more before locking her car and making her way to her apartment. Yuta stands watch to make sure she makes it inside safely, turning to walk down the street to his own apartment. His phone buzzes in his pocket.

YaYa: text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

To most people, Yasirah’s message might be off putting considering that he was literally inside her twenty minutes ago, but Yuta knows better. He sees right through her like a freshly cleaned window. Yasirah might talk a big game but she cares or she wouldn’t have even thought about bothering to make sure he got home okay. Yuta contemplates calling Khushi, his only confidant in all of this, to once again get his advice on how to lure Yasirah into his romantic trap, but decides that he’s probably bothered him enough about his troubles for the week. 

Yuta: made it home without a scratch

YaYa: good and I want you to know I saw your little “gift” on my ass when I got out of the shower

He chuckles at the thought of the mark he’d left square in the middle of her right ass cheek as something to remember him by. He can only imagine how she plans to get back at him for that one. No matter what her twisted little brain comes up with, he’s sure that he’ll love it.

“Reality is a cruel bitch.” Yasirah mumbles as she scrolls through the bath & body works website.  The semiannual sale is in full swing which means it’s time to stock up on candles and shower gels but unfortunately for her and everyone around her she hasn’t had an opportunity to go to the local store to sniff everything and make her decision on which ones to buy. Her victim of the hour is Yuta who has dutifully listened to her complaints as he rubs down her muscles after a particularly active rendezvous at the beach house Yasirah’s parents own not far from the university. Their favorite place to hook up whenever they’ve got the time.

“Don’t they do this sale twice a year? Is it really going to kill you to miss it this time?” He asks. To him it’s just overpriced candles and lotions, but Yasirah obviously holds them in much higher regard.

“I will in fact keel over and die if I don’t get new candles. I’m on my last one. I can’t live like this.” She whines thought it morphes into a moan when Yuta works out a knot in between her shoulder blades. His cock twitches against her ass at the sound and soon enough she’s much too distracted by the carnal desire to be one with him to worry about the plight of her candle collection.

A few days later and Yasirah is on the verge of madness. It seems like the harder she tries to make her way across town to the mall, the more stuff she has to do. She’s starting to think that some divine force doesn’t want her to go spend a small fortune on candles at this point. Her friend Madison who works in the office of student engagement texts her saying that someone just left a package for her in the SGA mailbox. More than a little intrigued, Yasirah books it over to the student center to see what it is before her next class. Her legs are going to hate for this unscheduled jog later but she’s pressed for time.

She’s thoroughly out of breath when she waves to Madison on her way to the small room that holds the mailboxes for the various organizations across campus. If she wasn’t already gasping for breath, Yasirah would definitely be in desperate need of oxygen when she spots the trademark red and yellow bag indicative of the semiannual sale. Yasirah rips it out of the cubby hole its stuffed in, nearly crying when she realizes that it’s full of candles in various scents. She notices that one of them has a note taped to it.

I bought you a few of this one since it smelled so good. I even bought one for myself because it reminds me of you. Hope you enjoy them beautiful!

Yuta

The ethics class she’d been pressed to get back to is quickly pushed to the back burner. Her heart melts at the thought of Yuta sniffing all of the candles in bath & body words just to make sure she didn’t miss out. She unscrews the lid on the candle that bears his note, golden hibiscus, and it smells almost exactly like the new leave in conditioner that she’s grown fond of. Yasirah thinks back on all of the post-sex cuddles that have all included a remark on how good her hair smelled. It’s in that moment that Yasirah realizes that she’s a lot more attached to Yuta than she had originally she thought. This is new territory for her as she’s never felt attraction for men beyond the physical pleasure they can bring her. An intense fear grips her as she leaves the student center to go to her ethics class. She shoots off a quick text to Yuta thanking him for the candles out of obligation and respect but she fully intends for that to be the last time she speaks to him. He wields more power over her than he probably realizes and she’ll be damned if she’ll give him the opportunity to use it against her.

Yuta is on the verge of madness. He’s called. He’s texted. He’s even emailed. But Yasirah has gone totally off the grid. Nothing he tries illicit a response from her and for a minute he was starting to think that something may have happened to her, but what he saw earlier made him realize that something much deeper is going on with her. He’d watched the woman in question receive a text from only to purposefully ignore it. For the life of him, Yuta can’t think what it is that he could’ve done to deserve this which is why he’s knocking on Khushi’s door looking for guidance.

“This better be real fucking important for you to be interrupting my nap.” Khushi grumbles. Yuta knew that he was risking his life by interrupting his friend’s daily scheduled nap, but it just couldn’t be help.

“If it’s any consolation,” Yuta produces a Chick-fil-a bag from behind his back, “I brought you nuggets. I drank the tea though. It’s hot as balls outside.”

“Polynesian sauce?” Khushi narrows his eyes at the man currently trying to bribe his way into his apartment. His hand grips the door tightly, ready to slam it shut at any given moment should the bribe fall short.

“A whole handful of them.” Relief washes over Yuta when Khushi steps to the side to allow him entrance. Khushi can already feel the regret setting in but he’s weak for chicken nuggets especially when they’re free and come with an assload of polynesian sauce.

Yuta collapses onto the couch in the living room and proceeds to spill his guts as if Khushi is a licensed therapist. Khushi chimes in here and there to get clarification but primarily just lets Yuta talk while he focuses on his nuggets and fries. It quickly becomes clear to him exactly what has happened. These two fuck wits have fallen head over heels for each other but in typical Yasirah fashion she has run for the hills to avoid succumbing to her own feelings. Nothing Yuta could have said or done would’ve stopped this from happening despite him thinking the opposite.

“Listen man, you just need to talk to her. Pull her to the side after the meeting on Thursday and clear the air then.” Khushi’s suggestion is based in sound logic and a working knowledge on how Yasirah generally reacts to confrontation. The look on Yuta’s face; however, says that he has absolutely wasted his breath even mentioning his idea. He can practically see the gears turning behind his friend’s eyes. Nothing good is bound to come from that.

“Jaehyun says that she’s super jealous and possessive so what if I use that to my advantage?” 

Khushi can tell that Yuta believes this to be a top tier plan as he goes on to describe exactly how he intends to do that. He was right to believe that nothing good would come from this love sick man’s thought processes. Yuta is so hell bent on getting Yasirah back that his judgement is clouded in a major way. Khushi prepares himself for another barrage of texts and calls when this inevitably goes south. He really should start charging these two numb nuts for all the stress they’re putting him through. 

Taco Tuesday, otherwise known as the most sacred day of the week, is one of the few things about college that Yasirah is very heavily attached to. Every Tuesday afternoon between the hours of three and five pm she can be found holding down the fort in the dining hall gorging herself on tacos while she studies. It’s become such a consistent ritual that by the time she’s swiped into the dining hall four starter tacos are already waiting for her at her usual table just the way she likes them. Chorizo, cotija cheese, and salsa verde with three lime wedges. 

She’s halfway through an assignment for her business law class when movement at one of the other tables in her section catches her attention. A small smile graces Yasirah’s face before she can stop it when she realizes that it’s Yuta. He’s got his headphones in and he’s typing away at his phone so he’s blissfully unaware of her presence. In spite of her earlier decision to avoid him, Yasirah is halfway out of her chair to go get his attention when some random girl she’s never seen before plucks one of his headphones out of his ear before plopping down in his lap. Instead of pushing her off like Yasirah expects him too, Yuta seems only too happy to let her remain perched in his lap.

Yasirah’s fist clench up at her sides. It’s been a long time since she’s been this enraged. She takes deep, calming breaths as she reminds herself that Yuta is not her boyfriend and she has no romantic claim to him. She repeats that to herself and it works for a while. A girlish giggle interrupts her concentration, making her eye twitch. Yasirah’s stomach turns when she looks up to see Yuta whispering in her ear which is the apparent source of the god awful noice that’s coming out of her mouth. They look every bit like a happy couple content with each other’s presence as they eat tacos. It’s sickening.

“Am I the only one here that respects the sanctity of Taco Tuesday?” Yasirah demands, slamming her fist down on the table hard enough to nearly knock her drink over. Yuta and his companion have the audacity to look sheepish as she stares the both of them down.

“Hey, Yasirah. I didn’t see you over there.” Yuta says.

“How could you with Ms. Anime Titties here blocking your view? Don’t worry about it though. This sickening display has ruined my appetite so I’m leaving.” Yasirah shoves her MacBook into her backpack unceremoniously and makes a hasty exit. She can hear Yuta calling after her but she’d rather chew through a brick wall than look at him for even one more second. Her BMW is peeling out of the parking lot by the time he reaches it. Yuta curses the heavens. This isn’t how he thought this would go. He pulls his phone out to call Khushi and hopes that his friend knows how to fix the giant mess he just made.

“If you called me to talk about Yuta, I’m hanging up on your ass.” Khushi had contemplated sending the call to voicemail, but he’s nothing if he’s not a sucker for his friends. He always answers the call when they need him but it’s days like today that he wishes he wasn’t so damn reliable. First Yuta and now Yasirah. The day these two dumbasses figure out how to communicate with each other without using him as a middle man is the day he will finally know peace. Unfortunately, that day has yet to come.

“Khushi, please!” Yasirah pleads with him. She knows he’s tired of hearing her rant about Yuta, but Jaehyun is the only other person that knows about their arrangement and she’s definitely not about to ask him for advice. “I’ll buy you milkshakes for a month just help me.”

Silence rings loudly in her ear.

“A month you say?” Khushi acquiesces much to her joy. She really doesn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t given in. Probably something stupid like go see Yuta and yell at him for having some whore sitting in his lap.

After agreeing to Khushi’s terms about his milkshake payment, Yasirah launches into the latest Yuta news. Khushi rolls his eyes dramatically when he realizes that today’s enemies with benefits crisis is the exact scenario that he had guessed that it would be. Yuta’s plan to make Yasirah jealous in an attempt to win her back — the very plan that Khushi had told him to abort immediately — was apparently wildly successful, but without the outcome that Yuta had been expecting. Yasirah is pissed off and jealous out of her mind just as they’d both predicted they would be. However, the fairytale outcome Yuta had dreamed up of her finally admitting her feelings and running right into his arms is nowhere close to coming to fruition. Instead, she’s doing exactly what Khushi had theorized and that’s working herself into a frenzy while she plans her revenge.

“What the hell am I supposed to do about this, Kush?” Yasirah is all but screaming in his ear and Khushi won’t be all that surprised if he’s unable to hear out of his right ear in the morning. “That stupid boy is playing in my face and he can’t get away with it. I know I kinda put things on pause but this is a matter of respect.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that he did that to make you jealous enough to confess your feelings for him?” Khushi asks, hoping that the truth will quell Yasirah’s anger enough for her to calm down and consider a plan of action that won’t end in hurt feelings. 

“Yuta is too smart to do some dumb shit like that.” Yasirah exclaims. If she only knew just how wrong she actually is. 

Khushi does his best to talk some sense into Yasirah but his efforts are in vain. No matter what he says she finds some convoluted way to refute it. He’s convinced that she doesn’t realize how crazed she sounds, but at this point there’s nothing he can do but let her put her own foolish plan into action. Part of him feels like he should warn Yuta of the hurricane headed his way, but ultimately decides that it’s useless. Neither one of them have listened to him so far, why would they suddenly start now?

Yasirah strides into the next exec board meeting nearly twenty minutes after it’s set start time just as nonchalant as if she walking through the park. She’s carrying two milkshakes, one of which she sets down in front of Khushi on her way to her seat. Taeil nearly falls out of his chair from the relief of not having to continue to take minutes for the meeting like he’d been forced to do. 

“How wonderful of you to join us, Ms. Coleman.” Seokjin says from his spot in the back of the room.

“We’ll see how wonderful it is in a minute.” Yasirah replies though her hardened gaze is fixed on Yuta. He swallows roughly out of nervousness but maintains eye contact with her nonetheless. You never take your eyes off a tigress when she’s poised to strike.

The meeting continues once Yasirah situates herself and picks up on the minutes where Taeil left off. The energy in the room is tense as she redefines the term, raging bitch. Everything out of Yuta’s mouth gets insulted until even Seokjin, who is normally silent, speaks up to defend him. Knowing that he’s the reason for the anger radiating off of Yasirah in waves, Yuta waves the advisor off.

“Anybody that can handle a little criticism shouldn’t be president of SGA, but then again this country has a history of putting incompetent men in charge just because they look nice and sound smarter than the average bear.” Yuta winces at her scathing remark as does everyone else in the room. It’s so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Deciding that she’s done what she came to do, Yasirah stands from her seat to leave before Seokjin can kick her out. She doesn’t feel nearly as good about how this went down as she thought she would.

Seokjin’s email the next morning summoning her to a meeting with both him and Yuta is not surprising in the slightest. Yasirah knows full well that her behavior in the meeting was excessive even by her own usual snarky standards. She’d picked up her phone countless times to call Yuta and apologize but her pride stopped her every time. She desperately wishes that she could erase the memory of how hurt he’d looked, but it’s burned into her brain. It kept her awake all night, taunting her whenever she closed her eyes until she’d abandoned the thought of sleep altogether.

The day passes by in a blur of classes and forgotten conversations. Not even Khushi can break Yasirah out of her funk during their daily Chick-fil-a outing which normally consists of her choking on her sweet tea at least once. 

“Rah?” Khushi waves his hand in front of her face in an effort to get her attention. She hums in acknowledgment thought she continues to pick apart the waffle fries Khushi has been trying to force her to eat. He sighs at her overcast attitude. It’s clear that he’s going to get nowhere with her.

Normani had said she was in bad shape when she’d texted him earlier, but he didn’t realize it was this bad. She’s but a mere shadow of her normal, vivacious self and he can’t help but think about Yuta who is in the exact same boat. Khushi has never met two people who deserved each other more. Both of them are so stubborn and prideful that it’s sickening to even think about. They’ve spent months waxing poetic about each other to him instead of just taking his advice and actually telling the other one how they feel. Now they might lose it all before they even have a chance to really get started. Khushi walks with her to the door of Seokjin’s office on the third floor of the student union, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Hopefully the two idiots finally come to their senses and realize that they’re head over heels for each other.

Yasirah schools her face into a mask of indifference as she takes a seat in the empty seat next to Yuta. She can feel his eyes on her but she keeps her own gaze trained on Seokjin who is leaning against his desk in front of them. Though she refuses to acknowledge his presence in the slightest, Yasirah can feel some of the tension melt out of her shoulders just from being in the same room as Yuta and she can’t stand it. 

“I’m not going to beat around the bush here with you, Ms. Coleman.” Seokjin’s voice is stern as he stares her down. Yasirah winces at the sound of him addressing her so formally. He’s always treated the executive board more like his colleagues than students he’s been charged with babysitting. Apparently, she’s in more trouble than she’d realized.

“Your behavior last night was absolutely unacceptable. I know you like to think that you can just talk to people any way you want to because your last name is on a few buildings at this university, but you crossed a line.” Seokjin barrels ahead, holding up a hand when he notices that Yasirah is about to interrupt. “Yuta, do you have anything you’d like to say?”

Yasirah squares her shoulders, bracing for whatever it is that Yuta is about to unleash on her. If she’s learned anything about him in the time that they’ve known each other, she’s learned that Yuta never attacks his opponents head on. He finds weak points and carefully chips away at them until his opponent brings about their own destruction. She expects thinly veiled insults. She expects subtle attacks at her character. She doesn’t expect for him to go straight for the jugular by suggesting that her “gross lack of self-control and empathy” makes her unfit to hold a position in student government.

“You fucking cock sucker, how dare you?” Yasirah explodes before she can stop herself which, in hind sight, was exactly what he wanted from her. He was fishing for a reaction and he got exactly what he bargained for.

Seokjin steps in to intervene when the two students devolve into a screaming match. They continue to hurl insults and scathing remarks back and forth as if he hadn’t opened his mouth. His office has been the venue for more than one fight in his time at the university, but Seokjin quickly clues into the fact that there is more than petty disagreements coming to a head right now. He’s the holder of many degrees but it’s the gold band on his left hand that gave him the expertise to see through the curse words flying through the air. He grabs at the emergency air horn next to his laptop and gives it a few quick taps.

“Either one of you want to tell me what’s really going on here? I’m getting the feeling it’s about more than what happened last night during the meeting.” Seokjin looks from Yuta to Yasirah and back again but neither one of them seems to be too interested in speaking anymore. “I’ve got all night to sit here and stare and we’re not leaving this room until we get to the bottom of this.”

Yasirah becomes very fascinated by her own nail beds as the three of them sit and stew in the silence. Seokjin might think that he has enough time to wait her out but he is sadly mistaken. She is fully prepared to play his game. Yuta, on the other hand, is not. Fifteen minutes into their little game and he breaks. He spills his guts all over the linoleum in Seokjin’s office. Thankfully he leaves out the more sordid details but it’s enough to get his point across.

“Kids, as someone who has been happily married for the past four years, let me give you a tip.” Seokjin starts, mindlessly clicking a pen that he picked up at some point. “Talking to each other openly and honestly is the key to any successful relationship.”

“We aren’t in a relationship though.” Yasirah points out quickly. Labels have always weirded her out and sent her running for the hills.

“On the contrary, Yasirah. The second you decided you wanted him around for more than just sex, you were in a relationship whether you meant to be or not. Just because a jar of pickles doesn’t have a label on it saying pickles doesn’t mean that there isn’t still pickles in the jar.” 

As stupid as that analogy is, it makes something click in Yasirah’s brain. She looks over at Yuta, but he seems to have taken a page out of her book and refuses to make eye contact. It’s clear as day that the imbalance in power she thought had existed before was much more balanced than she’d thought. Yuta was just as enthralled with her as he was with him, but her own fear wouldn’t let her see it. Now, it might be too late and that scares her ever more. Seokjin urges her to say the words that she’s been holding back, but she can’t seem to bring herself to let them come out of her mouth.

“Fuck this. Nobody has to resign. I can finish out the year, but I’m done with the rest of this bullshit.” Yuta is out the door so fast Yasirah swears she can physically the air filling in the empty space where he’d once sat. She’s itching to follow after him but she can’t move. Her limbs feel like they’re being weighed down by cement blocks.

“Yasirah, I can see how scared you are,” Seokjin crouches down in front of her so that they’re eye to eye before he continues, “but I can also see that you care for him more than you even realize right now. If you don’t go after him now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Another beat of silence passes before Yasirah is up and out of her chair, racing down the stairs. 

That familiar head of platinum blonde hair is nowhere to be found when she reaches the first floor. She looks around frantically but there is still no sign of him. Yuta normally rides the free shuttle bus to and from campus but her feet carry her in the opposite direction towards the parking lot instead. Her shoulders sag in relief when she spots him tossing his bag into the back seat of his car. 

“Yuta, wait!” He looks absolutely bewildered to see her running at him full speed like a bullet train. 

“Jesus Christ I need to work out.” Yasirah pants when she finally reaches him, tightly wrapping her arms around his waist while she hides her face in the crook of his neck.. The adrenaline rush that had fueled her mad dash to the parking lot is quickly wearing off. Yuta gently tries to extricate himself from her hold but she simply holds on tighter.

“I’m sorry that I’m an insufferable bitch. I like that you buy me candles because they remind you of me. I like that you appreciate my stupid memes. I like that you’re you and I hope you still like me too.” She blubbers out in a rush. Yuta’s chest feels like it’s going to burst at any given moment. He imagines that this has got to be what it feels like to win the lottery.

“I like that you’re you too.” He whispers. The halo of curls tickling his nose draws him in with the intoxicating hibiscus scent that he’s missed so much. It’s so inherently her and he can feel the tension melt from his body with every deep inhale. 

“Is this the part where I ask to be your girlfriend?” Yuta shivers at the words that Yasirah whispers against his neck. “I’ve never done this before and I’m tired of fucking it up so just tell me what to do.”

“Well first,” Yuta escorts Yasirah around the front of his car and opens the passenger door, “I’m going to take my girlfriend to get ice cream.”

“Fuck yes! Can we go to Boombalattis?” She pleads once he’s behind the wheel, turning up the charm just in case he’d entertained the thought of saying no.

“Anything for you.”

Yuta hums a made up tune as he softly trails his fingers up and down Yasirah’s bare back. Goosebumps follow his fingers as they glide across her skin. He knows she’s awake yet neither one is too keen on breaking the silence that’s wrapped around them like a warm blanket. The hand that had rested against his rib cage abandons it’s post as Yasirah reaches up to fiddle with the simple silver chain around Yuta’s neck. A glance at the digital clock on her desk across the room dumps a bucket of ice on his joyous mood. He has to leave soon if he wants to avoid her roommates. He’s surprised that she even let him spend the night to begin with. As if she can sense the change in the air, Yasirah clings to him. 

“Babe, I have to go.” He doesn’t want to leave just as much as she wants him to stay. She fits so perfectly in his arms and he wants to keep her there forever, but she doesn’t want anyone to know about their relationship yet so he has to leave. The now familiar bitterness threatens to twist his face into a scowl at all of the time they have to sacrifice just for her to save face in front of their friends.

“No.” Yasirah shifts until she’s on top of Yuta with all of her limbs wrapped around him. “I want you to stay.”

His heart flutters at what that could mean. He wants nothing more than to hold her hand in the broad daylight. To proudly show the world just how much he cares for her. Yuta has learned not to get his hopes up too high though. This isn’t the first time he’s thought that she would give up this secrecy bullshit only to get let down. He allows her to stay there for a while. Too weak to lift her off of him so he can get dressed. Unfortunately, time waits for no one and he’s dangerously close to getting caught here if he doesn’t get moving. As tough as she claims to be, Yasirah isn’t strong enough to withstand Yuta digging his fingers into her sides playfully. The high pitched squeal she lets out brings a smile to his own face as he successfully tickles her to the other side of the bed. He leaps into action before she can gather her wits and is already half dressed by the time she catches her breath.

“I should beat your ass for that, Nakamoto.” She threatens as she glares at him. The thin sheet that had been covering her falls away when she crawls towards the edge of the bed. He curses the way his cock hardens at the sight of her on her hands and knees before him. She’s not playing fair.

It takes an act of God, but he manages to leave without giving into her siren call. His phone pings with a text message just as he about to pull out of his parking space. After seeing it’s from Yasirah, he puts his car back in park and opens it. Spit flies from his mouth as he chokes violently. He’s not sure what he expected but an aerial shot of her naked body spread out for him wasn’t on the list. The picture doesn’t show her face so he doesn’t feel bad about saving it to his phone before shooting off a reply and dropping his phone in the cup holder. She’s going to be the death of him one of these days.

Yasirah stretches like a cat in the sun. She imagines Yuta is somewhere in the parking lot choking on his own spit over the picture she’d sent him on a whim. The only thing that could make this sweeter is being able to see it first hand, but her imagination will have to suffice for now.

She’s just laid down after showering and changing her bed sheets when Yasirah hears the front door open and close. She quickly jumps up to go see her friends, but stops short when she sees Wheein sniffing at the air like a bloodhound that just caught the scent of a fresh kill. The girl has the strongest olfactory senses she’s ever seen in a human which is why she’d made sure to open some windows and spray down the entire apartment with Febreze. Apparently, her efforts were in vain.

“There was a penis in this apartment.” Wheein says with conviction, staring Yasirah down where she stands in the hallway.

“Man, Wheein. Just say there was a man in here.” Normani sounds exhausted and Yasirah is sure that between the long weekend training they’d had to attend and the energy drink that Wheein is clutching in one hand, she’s beyond tired. 

“That lacks pizazz.” Wheein replies, hopping up on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs like a toddler. “So, who was it? Was he hot? Was his dick as big as Jaehyun’s?”

“What are you talking about, Whee? It was Jaehyun.”

“No, it wasn’t. Jaehyun smells like weed and cologne with a hint of sweaty balls. That is not what I’m smelling right now.” Yasirah should’ve known that she couldn’t fool Wheein. “So, who was it? Do I know him?”

Yasirah takes a second to figure out how to respond. She decides to play it safe. “No, I don’t think you know him. He doesn’t go to school with us.”

Her heart nearly beats out of her chest in the three seconds it takes Wheein to process and respond to her answer. She seems to take it as the truth, wishing her luck in her new dick endeavors before heading off to her own bedroom. Yasirah lets out a deep sigh of relief. She knows that everyone will find out eventually, but she wants to be the one to tell them and she wants to do it when she’s ready.

Car sex is absolutely abhorrent and Yuta is willing to die on that hill. His legs are bent at the most awkward angle. He’s hit his head on the door a concerning amount of times. He’s also quite certain that they’ve sucked all of the oxygen out of the vehicle with all of their panting. If it wasn’t for the fact that he is absolutely whipped for Yasirah, he’d have never agreed to putting himself through this type of torture after discovering just how awful it was the first time they’d tried it.

“Don’t you think this would be more comfortable in one of the beds that we get extorted to sleep in?” Yuta asks once they’re done. Yasirah rolls her eyes, knowing exactly where he’s going with this. 

“We’ve gone over this already, Yuta.” The look in her eye is frosty when she finally looks up at him, but her glares have long since lost their effect on him. Even if they hadn’t, he is entirely too frustrated to care about if she’s mad at him or not. 

“No, you’ve gone over this already and I just went along with it but I’m tired of that. What’s the point of dating if I can’t date you in public?” His mind calls up the memory of the day they went to go get ice cream after the cluster fuck of a meeting they’d had with Seokjin. That had been the first and last time they’d gone out together as a couple.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Yasirah’s chest feels tight with fear at the possibility that she could have pushed Yuta away with her selfish desire to live in this secret bliss. Every memory is their own. Untainted by the presence of others and she wants to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“No, I’m in this with you for as long as you’ll have me. I just wish everyone else knew that too.”

Yuta’s words play over and over in Yasirah’s head all through the night. What she wants and what she knows is right are at odds right now. She can’t continue to avoid the issue anymore because Yuta isn’t going to tolerate her hesitance forever. He deserves someone who loves him loudly and dammit she is going to be that someone.

Yuta rocks back and forth on his heels as he patiently waits his turn to place his order at Starbucks. Yasirah had texted him earlier about meeting up here before the exec board meeting so he figured he may as well grab a couple chai teas. Only one more person stands between him and the overpriced iced deliciousness he craves when he feels a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. The scent of hibiscus and honey teases his senses, striking him with both fear and joy.

“Hey, pretty.” The whispered compliment is followed by a chaste kiss to his temple. 

“Hey, pretty.” He playfully repeats. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into her today, but he doesn’t question it in fear that she’ll stop and go back to pretending like she doesn’t beg him for kisses in private. 

Yasirah rests her head on his shoulder, arms still tightly wrapped around his middle, as she waits with him line only letting go so that she can take her drink from the barista once it’s ready. She surprises Yuta yet again when she grabs his free hand in hers. This time he’s not successful at keeping his questions at bay. 

“Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” His heart drops when she slips her hand out of his grip. He knew he should’ve kept his mouth closed. 

“Did you or did you not say you wanted everyone to know we’re dating?” She stops walking to stare him down in the middle of the busy sidewalk much to the annoyance of the people now forced to walk around them.

“I do but you said-” Yuta doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. 

“Fuck what I said. Now are you going to hold my hand or not?” Yasirah smiles victoriously when Yuta slots his fingers between hers. There’s still an uneasy feeling in her chest as they resume their journey to the political science building, but she pushes it down for his sake. No matter how much he wants this he’ll give it all up if he sees her panicking and she wants to do this for him.

Yasirah’s mind is racing with how their friends will react. Will they be happy? Upset? Various scenarios fill her brain to the point that she doesn’t even notice they’ve reached their destination until Yuta gently turns her head to face him.

“I know you’re doing this for me, but we don’t have to.” God, this man. She really doesn’t know what country she saved in a past life to deserve him. Yasirah leans in to press her lips against his.

“No, we’ve waited long enough.”

They step through the door hand in hand to a chorus of gasps. Yuta seems to believe it but Yasirah’s keen senses pick up on the scent of bullshit in the air. Something is not right here. One look at Wheein and she knows the truth. This is why she sucks at poker. She wears her thoughts on her plain as day.

“Spill.” Wheein gulps when all of the attention is turned on her. She avoids eye contact with Yasirah, knowing full well that her best friend and roommate is incredibly aware of all her trigger points to break her. Deciding to avoid the misery of drawing this out, she caves.

“I told them.” Wheein whines. Yasirah loves her to pieces but she couldn’t keep a secret even if you paid her so she’s not surprised that it got now that she knows that Wheein was in on it. The only question at this point is how she knew.

“Wheein, how did you even figure it out?” Yuta asks, beating Yasirah to the punch.

“I smelled you. You smelled just like the guy you had in the apartment that day.” Yasirah rolls her eyes skywards. Leave it to Wheein’s supersonic olfactory senses to expose the truth behind her lies. She thought she had dodged a bullet by telling her she didn’t know who it was only to realize now that she’d stepped right into the line of fire.

Wheein’s confession leads to even more shocking revelations as the rest of the exec board starts detailing little things they’d noticed but hadn’t given much thought to. An Iron Maidens t-shirt that Yuta had mentioned missing turning up in Yasirah’s laundry. The lingering floral scent of leave-in conditioner that an apartment of smelly men wouldn’t have any use for. To think that they’d thought they had everyone fooled with all of their sneaking around when actually everyone had been betting to see how long it would take for them to realize that they all knew. 

“Well since the cat’s out of the bag now, let’s get this show on the road.” Seokjin prompts from his seat off to the side. This wasn’t one of the outcomes that Yasirah had envisioned but she’s happy about it nonetheless. She squeezes Yuta’s hand one final time under the table once they’ve taken their seats, hoping that it conveys everything she wants to say but can’t. He nudges her knee with his with a wink in her direction. If perfect was an achievable goal, Yasirah would definitely say that she’s reached it.

[kendrixtermina]

The “Genocidal Edelgard” Shallowtake

I was not going to make a post about this because it’s most likely futile and not going to convince anyone nor do I believe in dinifying the purity police with attention, but maybe it will let some ppl know that they dont have to let themselves be shamed for liking the wrong video game character

Whatever might have been the case in the distant past when Nemesis was around, by the “present day” the Nabateans are not at all some commonly oppressed stereotyped minority - the setting is chock full of characters that fit that bill a lot better like Dedue or Cyril. Characters that are ordinary humans not magic dragons. 

And even that is more founded on general purpose xenophobia than from the specific, relatively new early modernity construct of racism. (the dedue situation probably comes the closest)

Sure, Seteth and Flays have to hide from their old enemy the Agarthans, I see how some might find that relatable etc. but most of the population isn’t aware that they exist at all. They hold high status positions, are worshipped by the local religion and Rhea all but rules the entire continent (and says so herself to Byleth in that speech about how she was just “ruling this wayward country in your stead”, “you” being Sothis) - though that is mostly Rhea’s doing of which Seteth and Flayn are relatively innocent. 

The interviews pretty much confirmed that the Nabateans constituted the local aristocracy and that many humans genuinely saw the Elites as liberators - though there was definitely also an element of ppl going around killing random Nabateans to gain superpowers, not to speak of Nemesis’ very obvious very unambiguous mass murder. Not wanting to be ruled over by foreign powers is understandable, though obviously killing them all down to the last civilian was just flat out evil - its certainly not a simple situation, we can all agtree Nemesis & the Agarthans were evil but there is no clear defined good guy. 

There are historical conflicts you could compare this to, perhaps some conflicts in Africa or the middle eastwhere different groups took turns being the ruling class after the latest war,  but it’s not at all like the modern USA or early modernity colonialism, and forcing every real or, in this case, imagined scenario inherently dependent of fantasy elements, into this one framework from the present or near past isn’t conductive to understanding at all. 

And in the present day, by the time Edelgard is alive, we are talking about three specific people that she has good reason to dislike individually. Not any sort of group at all. 

She calls Rhea a cruel beast because that’s all she’s ever seen Rhea to be. She’s the shadow tyrant who rules her world, who created the crappy world Edelgard grew up in. It’s no different Cubans thiking badly of the castros after suffering through famines - or, no need for such extreme examples really, ppl call their least favorite politicians monsters all the time. 

She’s wrong to assume that Seteth & Flayn are wholly on board with this, but on the other hand, it’s not at all a far-fetched assumption to make: They hold high positions in the church though they ostensimbly just appreared out of nowhere one day. Do you have to be an evil bigot to assume that the brother and right hand man to the tyrannical god-queen is condoning & supporting her actions?

The truth is of course that underneath her pseudo-parental facade Rhea is sort of a scared girl, very lonely, very afraid, and ashamed, in a shallow, childish way, for “breaking the rules” just because they are rules. She says she can’t trust anyone, that she feels lonely & isolated... and while no one can blame her for distrusting humans after the slaughter of her people, but the reason she can’t trust Seteth is that she’s keeping her bad deeds secret from him. He wasn’t there the whole time, he just showed up a few decades earlier. 

She sees herself only as filling out for Sothis and doesn’t quite grasp that she’s in charge, very much a follower personality bent on stasis & regularity. 

Is Edelgard obliged to try & unravel the complex psychology of the tyrant who rules her home to correctly deduce why she would deceive even her own family? By all intents and purposes, Edelgard is the one getting rid of an oppressive government that doesn’t let ordinary humans let a say at all. A government where ppl of others faiths and nationalities are typically oppressed unless they work directly for the church.

It’s like having a disdain for, say, Ivanka Trump. She holds a high position in her father’s administration despite having no obvious qualifications, she appears to be profiting & making bank from her father’s atrocities, she certainly hasn’t done anything to stop him or disavow him the way that, say, her cousin Mary did - if you suffered under Trump’s regime you’d be very justified in assuming that Invanka is probably a bad person.

Flayn only looks young (She might not if we saw her in other clothes). I mean, Kronya could badly impersonate a schoolgirl. At the very least they’ve supported the regime by refusing to question their own side and they show some however benevolent belief that it is their duty to “guide” the people. Leaving her to the Agarthans is certainly questionable, but no more so than doing it with Rhea herself, under the assumption that she’s guilty and that it’s a sacrifice that will prevent larger chaos. The agarthans had their plan long before they created Edelgard as we know her, and she couldn’t stop their plots all on her own. 

You could say that it’s callous, distasteful or a deal breaker - as the death knight is her direct subordinate & she makes a personal appearance in mask, I would argue that she definitely knew & sanctioned the kidnapping - but she’s no more callous towards Flayn than towards anybody else. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean they’re evil, or that they deserve to die.... and Edelgard would agree with me.  She doing all this to prevent death – flipping the lever on the trolley problem so it crushes one person instead of five so to speak. She always gives her enemies the chance to surrender, unwilling allies the chance to leave, and jails enemies whenever leaving them alive wouldn‘t lead to further death… even the ones she has the most personal reason to hate, like the PM.

As servants of the church who have chosed to back her enemies, she’ll certainly kill them if she has to, but not any more than any other enemy. At no point anywhere in the story does she say anything like that they need to die on principle. Nowhere at all. Indeed there is much evidence to the contrary.

The church paints her as being completely against the religion or even wanting to set herself up as a satanic godess cause it‘s good politics & they don‘t get what she‘s doing – to an extent her own credibility & messaging is compromised by her secretive and at times unscrupulous actions, no one said she was perfect. In truth all she wants is to have the church out of politics, you know, what we have in nearly every modern country outside the vatican and saudi arabia.

You can absolutely let Flayn & Seteth go on CF and there is no word, no fuss about it anywhere. No „make sure to kill em all“ which would certainly be there if the narrative wanted to portray Edelgard that way. It requires the mediation of Byleth as someone they would talk to & not immediately assume the worst of, but, they see the church as the embodymet of all that is good & fighting its enemies as their sacred duty so of course it wouldn‘t be possible for just anyone to talk them down. It‘s framed as Flayn letting Byleth go cause they saved her life once, even if we know from behind the screen that she wasn‘t going to survive a fight to the death against the player-controlled faction.

Heck, even when it comes to Rhea, the one most guilty that Edelgard has the most reason to loathe, she‘s ultimately surprisingly gracious. She gives her the option to surrender – and this is not a lie, she discusses this with Byleth in a lecture question, and seriously ponders the possibility. Here Byleth gets a range of options like „stab her in the back“ and „keep the church under imperial control“ but you know which one nets you the support points? „Strip her of her authority so she can‘t interfere in politics“. She wasn‘t gonna mess with the religious folks & their religion at all, just make it so it‘s separate from government. Rhea could even keep being pope, if she could be satisfied without having complete supreme authority (and ripping her precious artifact out of Byleth‘s chest) – even when she puts her down she‘s not 100% without pity, telling her that „Your duty is done“ (the translators mucked this up)

Couldn‘t be any further from „lets kill them all on principle“.

What really annoys me is how ppl go and twist everything Edelgard says out of context to ascribe a motive to her that just isn’t there.

Common examples:

„If you have Flayn or Seteth fight her she‘ll say they need to die because they‘re nabateans“

Actually what she says is this: „You are a child of the godess. You must not have power over the people!“ Not getting to be privileges rulers anymore =/= being opressed. Stay out of politics =/= Diediedie. Also, this is from the VW/SS boss fight, where they have literally come to get her in her own capital.

„Linhard & Leonie don‘t tell her & hubert about Indech, probably cause he expects that she‘ll go & kill him„

What he actually says is: „Lake Teutates is a place that concerns the saints of the Church of Seiros. It may become bothersome should the two of them find out...“

„It may be bothersome“ as in, „we might get in trouble“, for doing the possibly very inadvisable thing of waltzing into what could possibly be an enemy location to satisfy personal curiosity. If it‘s something related to her agenda she might take over and Linny wouldn‘t get to investigate as he pleases – at very most you might construe it as Linny fearing that they‘ll be accused of consorting with the enemy, but „bothersome“ suggest possible annoyance not imminent murder.

The whole scene ends with Linhard telling Byleth to fill her in later. Doesn‘t sound at all like he expects her to go back with a harpoon.

„She said Claude isn‘t fit to be a ruler cause he‘s a foreigner“

What she actually says: „I understand your ideals are not so far removed from my own. But without knowledge of Fodlan‘s history, I cannot entrust its rule to you“

Now without the additional contexts that Claude won‘t get until after the fight, it might easily feel a bit like the former with the raw spots he‘d have from his backstory, but what she means is that he‘s ignorant of the Agarthan threat – which he is. Edelgard is all for making peace with Almyra and sees fostering isolationism & prejudice as one of the many faults of the church.

Once Claude basically kills Edelgard for information, he winds up having to take care of the storm she had been holding back. But to his credit, he DID „finish the job“ and get the info. But he didn‘t have it at that point.

And I don‘t mean any of this in the least bit as a diss of Claude - He is the smartest character, so there would be no plot if he got easy access to the info.  At this point, they both think they can probably do better, and more importantly, both their backstories have made them so that they won‘t let down their guard far enough to cooperate in this scenario.

That‘s also why the outcome in CF is contingent on Byleth‘s choice. - You‘d sort of have to trust that he will also act so as to minimize casualties.

Very disingenious since many players wouldn‘t necessarily trigger these dialogues.

I guess because Adrestia got a vaguely central-european aesthetic (partially; all the countries are hodgepodge mashups and there’s more than enough spanish or ancient roman vibes there) and central europe existed only for those 12 years of tyranny I guess, even though many other places have had similar BS happening, including the US that delights in making craptons of movies about their faraway victory because their governments haven’t added much of value to the planet as of late. -.- 

Faerghus (vaguely french/ russian - not at all places where nothing bad happened ever) has actually annexed some territory from their northern neighbors in the recent past, not to speak of the whole Duscur atrocity - but no one seems to go around laying that at Dimitri’s feet, because it would be nonsensical - he was a child at the time and as an individual he is super against it and champions a policy of reconcilliation if he gets to rule. after all, there wouldn’t be much of a plot if the characters inherited three perfect faultless problem free countries. 

Edelgard, too, is completely against the previous administration under Duke Aegir (which was in charge during the Bridgid war). She deposed him and is plotting to do the same with Arundel once she can politically afford to do so. For all that one can understand why she would chose the other path  (depending on how much she knows about what Edelgard’s doing and why) it makes all the sense in the world for Petra to support her on CF or if not recruited, because again, she got rid of that previous administration. 

[c-is-for-circinate]

One of the things that has always fascinated me about Critical Role, on a meta and structural level, is the idea that as a D&D campaign (and with the way Matt runs his campaigns) the story is to some degree divorced from fate in a way no story I’ve ever read/watched before could be.

Cause and effect work differently in fiction than they do in real life.  In fiction, events happen because they need to in order for other things to happen later.  Sometimes fiction is messy, sometimes it’s disjointed, sometimes it’s badly-written, sometimes it’s a beautiful symphony of chaos, sure, but the end of every novel ever written is to some degree present in its beginning.  Even if the star quits and the costar dies and half the cast goes on strike and the season gets cut short via network interference and the writing team for the final three episodes is completely different than the writers for the first five, each episode has its own goal, its own direction.  Fiction gets written towards things.  That’s how fiction works.

I’ve never in my life seen a story that works like Critical Role does.  We know there isn’t an Ultimate Plan in the CR universe, because Matt is the god of that universe and he tells us so.  Matt knows the whole world and he knows the threads of possibility, but what actually happens is based on free will and dice rolls, on coincidence and randomness.  Matt plans certain challenges and the players rise to meet them, but it’s not because they’re fated to do so, it’s because they choose to.  Sometimes they spend three months playing pirate and choose not to!  The only certainty in this game is that the players intend to keep going to Level 20.  They’re destined as a group to be powerful and important, and to struggle getting there.  As individuals, they’re not even guaranteed to survive doing it.

And to me, that makes Caduceus’s whole fate and faith thing so completely fascinating.

Caduceus looks at this sword hilt he’s been carrying around for months, and at everything that’s just happened, and he sees a thing he stumbled across ages ago specifically in preparation for him to be here.  Here Caduceus is with both pieces of the sword, in this place where the blade was once forged and can be forged again, with a man who just lost the sword tying him to a foul fiend who’s in need of a new one.  Here is the hand of Melora and destiny in absolutely everything.  It’s perfect.  How could anybody doubt that this is fate?

Me.  I doubt that it’s fate, because we found that sword hilt in Episode 31 and none of this was planned.

It’s not even just Fjord-destroying-the-falchion.  It’s everything.  Episode 31 was ages before they ever came to Xhorhas and found the other half of the sword.  Did Matt even know that the sword blade was in Xhorhas yet, at that point?  Nobody knew the team would integrate themselves in there; nobody knew they’d even go there, certainly not this early.  Episode 31 was before the M9 ever even went to Nicodranas.  Fjord was still on good terms with U’kotoa back then.  If you’d told anybody at that table in Episode 31 what would happen in Episode 72, Matt included, they’d be stunned.  God himself didn’t know then what would eventually happen.  It looks like such coincidence--but if it’s not fate, how did everything come together so well like this?

Well, they’re here in this place where the sword was forged and can be fixed on the night that Fjord destroyed the falchion specifically because Caduceus decided that this sword was The Answer To Their Problems and came here to fix it in the first place, aren’t they?  And part of why he’s been so insistent on fixing this sword now is because Caduceus likes broken things, and he likes mending them, and he’s been fixating on Fjord as the broken thing he can mend for ages now.  Would Fjord have even throw the falchion away in the first place if not for Caduceus (and the rest of the team) trying to support him and encouraging him to steer away from U’kotoa to begin with?

Caduceus has got a sword that he’s sure is Somehow Meaningful.  Just like the man with only a hammer who thinks every problem must be a nail, he’s gone looking for problems with possible sword-shaped solutions, and convinced himself that this sword is the only possible solution to those problems, that it was destiny making sure he had the right tool at the right time and nothing else ever could’ve happened in the first place.  Hell, up until last week, he was entirely sure that the sword-shaped problem in question was, ‘how do we kill the Laughing Hand?’.  Now the sword-shaped problem is ‘fjuck, Fjord is weaponless’, and it looks like fate, but not even Caduceus could’ve predicted how that night would go.  

I wonder a lot whether Matt decided Wacoh would have the sword’s blade in reaction to the fact that Caduceus was trying so hard to figure out the sword’s shit and Matt likes to give his players presents.  I wonder whether Caduceus’s choices actually changed the universe on that meta-level.

It’s just so, so fascinating to me, watching Caduceus decide that he Knows How This Is Destined To Go, and then working towards that end he’s decided is fated.  And then all his efforts mean things actually go that way and of course they did, it was fate!  Or else they don’t, and something else was fate.  And you can’t even quite argue against it, not even on a meta level, because maybe each and every die was meant to come down on the number it landed on (except I don’t, can’t believe that about the real world).

This game is such a beautiful microcosm of cause and effect, and how random events can turn into stories with morals and conclusions, just because we decide they are.  Meaningless things become meaningful through coincidence or fate, or because people declare they’re important and the declaration makes it thus.  And Caduceus, who is so ready to ascribe meaning in places it may not have existed before, sits right in the middle of all of it, creating destiny and denying his own agency at every turn.

[bleedinghearthalstead]

SWAT!Jay / Upstead AU

He's seen the guy before, hell, he's seen him a few times before, this isn't the first time they've had to call in SWAT. And honestly, he's never had any issues with SWAT before, but this guy… Adam's been irked by him the last couple of times he's seen him.

There's a dozen police cars surrounding the bank, even more police officers taking cover behind the cruisers, there's police tape going back a block, a bunch of onlookers are still milling around and SWAT just pulled up. Great. Just what you need on a Monday morning.

Intelligence has been following the robbery crew for a few days now, waiting for them to hit their next target. The crew was brutally efficient in their earlier heists, but never harmed anybody, so the plan was to bust them as soon as they led the team to their stash house. That plan went tits up as soon as a gunfire erupted inside the bank and panicked screams filled the air. Without any eyes and ears inside and not wanting to aggravate the situation any further, Hank told them to stand down and initiate a Plan 4.

And now here they are. The team except for Hank is crouched behind their cars, their guns pointed at the bank's front entrance. The SWAT commander and two of his men walk up to Hank and they appear to be talking plans, gesticulating at the bank, before they move towards the command truck.

Adam follows them with his eyes until he sees that one of the SWAT guys hasn't moved and is staring at him. Why is he staring at him? He's seen the guy before, hell, he's seen him a few times before, this isn't the first time they've had to call in SWAT. And honestly, he's never had any issues with SWAT before, but this guy… Adam's been irked by him the last couple of times he's seen him. Then Adam sees something move in the corner of his eye and it's a flash of blonde hair – it's Hailey. And when he glances back at SWAT guy, he realizes that the guy hasn't been staring at him, he's been staring at Hailey. And it's also in this moment that Adam knows why he doesn't like the other man. He was staring at Hailey the last time they saw each other too. Hailey, who is definitely trying to not look in SWAT guy's direction, except that her eyes flicker over when she thinks no one is watching, like she's nervous. He doesn't know how long this staring contest lasts until there's a crackling sound coming from beside him and it's Hank's voice filtering through Hailey's radio, telling her to join him at the command truck. She has barely stood up from her crouch before Adam jumps up as well and announces that he's coming with. Hailey only raises an eyebrow at him and walks off, Adam trailing behind her. He frowns when he notices SWAT guy following them too.

The briefing with Hank and SWAT is quick – they have established communication with the robbers who have given their demands, but everyone knows that they are only stalling them until the SWAT team can breach. They listen to the SWAT commander give his orders to his men and after a chorus of "yessirs", the SWAT team clears out of the command truck. It's a tight fit inside the truck and it's a wonder nobody else notices, but Hailey lets out a tiny surprised squeak when SWAT guy squeezes past her. And if Adam hadn't been paying attention as hard as he was, he probably wouldn't have seen SWAT guy's hand lingering on Hailey's behind. It's only for a second and Hailey seems otherwise unfazed, but Adam can't help but glare daggers at the back of SWAT guy's head until he is out the door. Hank tells them to go back to their positions and wait for further instructions.

Back with the others, Adam keeps glancing at Hailey, but Hailey does a great job of ignoring him and pretending that nothing happened. They hear over the radio that SWAT will breach soon, but nothing ever prepares you for the sudden crack of a sniper rifle firing. Adam flinches a little, others even duck, not sure where the shot just came from. Just a moment later, they can hear flash bangs and surprised shrieks inside the bank, followed by rapid bursts of gunfire. Two minutes later and the whole thing is over, hostages coming out the front door with their hands up, followed by members of the SWAT team. It seems that the robbers have all been neutralized.

In the aftermath, the team is still hanging around, interviewing witnesses and getting statements. This might be one of Adam's least favorite things to do, especially because it means a ton of paperwork even after the fact and even though they already got the bad guys. He is still keeping an eye on Hailey who is talking to a woman a few cars over. As soon as Hailey sends the woman on her way, he sees SWAT guy just a few paces behind her. Adam growls lowly and quickly strides over, but before he gets to Hailey, SWAT guy is already sauntering up behind her, once again reaching for Hailey's behind. Before SWAT guy can touch her, Hailey slaps his hand away.

"HEY!" Adam's shout not only turns the heads of the pair but also more than a few others'. He stomps right up to them and gets right in SWAT guy's face. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Adam, no!" Hailey tries to get between them, but Adam has already shoved SWAT guy away from Hailey. The guy looks angry as hell and Adam wonders if he's made a huge mistake. Before SWAT guy can retaliate, Hailey stares him down and he stops in his tracks.

"Not here!" Hailey hisses and grabs them both by the arm (painfully, Adam might add) and drags them away from their staring colleagues. As soon as they are hopefully out of earshot of other people, Hailey lays in on Adam. "What the hell was that?"

Adam is taken back by her outburst. "Why are you yelling at me? He's harassing you!"

SWAT guy has the audacity to let out a laugh, which is quickly subdued by Hailey slapping his arm. He shakes his head in amusement. "You don't even know what you're talking about, man."

"Oh my God," Hailey mutters, rubbing her hand over her face. "Adam, what did you see?"

"He touched your butt in the command truck! And he was about to do it again!" SWAT guy laughs again, Hailey only groans.

She turns to SWAT guy and sighs. "I told you not to do stuff like that at work." SWAT guy at least looks sheepish now, but Adam still doesn't understand what is going on.

"Wait, so you know each other?"

"Well yeah," SWAT guy rolls his eyes, "we work together." Hailey slaps his arm again. "And that's my wife."

Adam scoffs and looks at SWAT guy like he's just told the most blatant lie. "No, she's not."

Hailey rubs her forehead and decides this can't get any worse. "Adam, this is my husband Jay." And now Jay has the widest grin on his face.

Adam does a double take. "Wait, what?"

"I'm married to this idiot," Hailey glances at Jay who winks at her.

"You love this idiot."

"Wait, you're married!?" Hailey groans again and walks off, Jay snickering and following her, and Adam is left gaping at their backs, still trying to grasp what the fuck just happened.

* * * * *

The team decides to hit up Molly's after they finish up, mostly, or so Adam thinks, to figure out what happened between him and Hailey and that other guy earlier today, those nosy bastards. Once they walked back to the team (Jay snuck away like a fucking ninja), of course their colleagues asked them what was up, but Hailey played dumb and Adam was too embarrassed to say anything. Whatever happened, he was also not going to out Hailey like that, he wasn't that much of an asshole.

A couple of drinks later, Adam is relieved when the team stops questioning them and moves on to Kevin's plans of organizing parties at Molly's again. His relief is short-lived though when he spots Jay as he enters the bar. The guy definitely looks less intimidating without his tactical uniform and sniper rifle, but Adam still can't believe this is happening to him. He tries to sink lower in his seat, but Kim taps his arm and nods her head at Jay.

"Hey, isn't that the guy?" By now, everyone at their table, including Hailey who had her back facing the entrance, has turned in Jay's direction, who has also found them, or specifically his wife, because his stern expression changes into a goofy smile and there is no way that smile is directed at anyone else but Hailey. Jay makes his way to the back of the bar where their table is and, when she is within reach, slings his arm over Hailey's shoulder.

"Hey." He waves at the team. He gets some half-hearted "heys" in return, but the team is obviously confused as to why Hailey just let a random guy drape himself over her. Hailey, for one, doesn't look surprised.

"Guys, this is Jay." She reaches up to hold the hand on her shoulder, clearing her throat. "Jay, my husband." There are some shocked reactions from the group and the mood suddenly turns slightly awkward, nobody knowing what to say to that. Adam doesn't know what to think of the fact that Hailey's been hiding this from everyone else too.

"Congrats?" Adam tries and obviously fails when Hailey averts her eyes, but when Jay squeezes her hand, she looks up at him and gives him a soft smile.

"Hey, nice to meet you, Jay." Kevin gets up and gives Jay a pat on the back. "So you're the guy with the long gun, huh?"

Jay chuckles. "I'm guessing you mean my sniper rifle, but hey, that's what she keeps calling it too."

Hailey groans, but the others start laughing and Kevin drags a chair over for Jay to sit down. Thank God for Kevin, Adam thinks, that guy can defuse any socially awkward situation. There's a round of introductions and then Kevin tries to persuade Jay to spill the details on the SWAT operation at the bank since some of it is classified. At first, he resists, but after Kevin and the rest of the team promise to buy him several rounds of drinks, Jay not only tells them some SWAT secrets (Hailey's pretty sure half of them are lies, terrible lies), but also proceeds to tell them how Jay and Hailey met at another bank robbery that hadn't gone quite as smoothly. Hailey obviously isn't too happy about how her private life is put out in the open like this, but she seems happier and softer around the edges than usual, like she can move more freely now that her relationship is not so secret anymore.

At some point, while Jay is explaining mathematical formulas on how to account for the earth's curvature on long distance shots, Hailey and Adam's eyes meet and he mouths "sorry" at her and shrugs, but Hailey just waves him off. It's already water under the bridge.

Some drinks later, when Jay refuses to tell them how their first date went and Kevin insists on buying a round of tequila shots, Hailey feels like she needs to do some damage control. Jay and tequila never end well.

"Alright, enough with 20 Questions." She gets up and motions at Jay to do the same. "We're going home."

The others try to talk them into staying for just another round and even Jay chimes in, "I haven't even finished my beer yet!"

Hailey leans over to him and whispers something in his ear. Jay immediately gets up and chugs his beer, saying his goodbyes to the unit. "Nice to meet you guys, but we gotta go."

Kevin lets out the loudest laugh and gets up to give both Hailey and Jay a hug. "Same here, man. You can finish your story next time!"

Hailey blushes and gives Kevin a shy smile, grateful that he has made the effort to keep the evening lighthearted and fun. Adam watches them leave, Hailey leading the way, Jay's hand on the small of her back. Well, at least he doesn't have to worry about being killed by SWAT guy tonight.

[quixotic-dragon]

Kokichi Oma’s Crocodile Tears   (MAJOR DRV3 SPOILERS)

Ah, good ol’ Kokichi Oma. The Ultimate Little Shit- and a controversial little shit at that! I’ve recently played v3, and Kokichi is the one character who always seems to be on my mind (aside from my fav, Keebo, of course) because he’s such a mystery. We never get to know what’s going on in his head, at least not openly, and many players are led to assume that he is a malicious troublemaker, or even an outright sadist. 

I’m going to take a moment to analyze Kokichi specifically during that infamous scene at the end of Chapter 4 because that is all that’s been on my mind as of late. 

Underneath the Keep reading, there WILL be major spoilers for the entirety of v3. There will also be a very long essay, but I will do my best to break it up so it is easier to read. Read at your own risk.

So without further ado, here is my analysis of and my thoughts on Kokichi, his actions, and his character circa Chapter 4:

INITIAL REACTION:

Before I go into how I feel about Kokichi now, I’m going to have a discussion about my thoughts on him while this scene was playing out. (I know my exact feelings because I was liveposting in a discord server as I played, haha)

At this point in the game, the player does not yet know that Kokichi is not the true mastermind, nor do they understand what Kokichi means by “winning” the game. 

I had personally been spoiled of who the v3 mastermind was (thanks a lot danganronpa wiki), so I recognized that Kokichi wasn’t the mastermind, however I did not recognize that he was trying to win the killing game via unconventional methods. So from my point of view, Kokichi had just intentionally murdered Gonta (and Miu) just to increase his chances of winning and had the nerve to shed fake tears over it. I was furious! (behold, my fury!)

Kokichi sobs over Gonta’s death, and I interpreted this as entirely fake tears. One of my friends suggested, “i feel like there was a difference between like his / crocodile tears and this.” 

I was enraged at this suggestion and stood beside my initial reaction because I felt that there were no signs that Kokichi never cared for Gonta as anything more than an asset, so I could not trust Kokichi to have any real remorse for his death with such a manipulative relationship having existed. (Massive disclaimer that this is my interpretation of their relationship; if you have a different interpretation, that is totally fine and valid!)

At this point, I considered why Kokichi might be crying so intensely even if it was an act, and came to the conclusion that if there was any sort of truth in those tears that Kokichi would be upset for a different reason than Gonta. He would be upset because he was truly alone. Not a single living person wanted to spare him the time of day besides Gonta. And now that Gonta is dead, nobody wants Kokichi. Even though I was fully convinced he was a sadistic, evil bastard at this point, I still figured that he must’ve felt some sort of sudden and crippling loneliness realizing that the only person who cared about him in the slightest was dead.

This interpretation of Kokichi I had really didn’t change much until after I had finished the entire game and stopped to think about Kokichi a bit more; his heartfelt final words to Kaito felt like lies to convince him to play along (blackmailing Maki certainly didn’t help with that much either), and his whole trick felt less like him trying to help and more like him just trying to cause chaos for the hell of it in my mind.

So, in conclusion, my initial reaction to the Kokichi scene? I thought Kokichi was a heartless bastard whose only remorse could be crippling loneliness. Although my initial analysis while I was still playing was quite interesting, I have some different opinions on it now that I’ve taken a step back and viewed the game as a whole.

KOKICHI ONLY WANTS YOU TO THINK HE’S EVIL:

Surprise! Kokichi isn’t a sadistic fuck! Crazy right? 

Well, not really if you’ve watched/read any Kokichi analysis ever. However, Kokichi’s act seems to be a common thing that many casual players of v3 fall for. I certainly fell for it when I played, as you saw above!

It isn’t until far later in the game that it is revealed that Kokichi is the “supreme leader” of a pacifist prankster club (DICE), and it isn’t revealed until the end of Chapter 5 that Kokichi actually had good intentions in setting up his mastermind persona (although, as seen above, those good intentions are still very easily interpreted in a bad light).

So why does he bother to so obviously cry wolf at Gonta’s death just to double back on his persona ten-fold as soon as he’s called out on it? Because he’s just trying to sell his mastermind persona, not only to the other characters and the mastermind, but to the player themself. This is intended by both Kokichi and the writers themselves, made obvious by the fact that we get no real evidence of Kokichi being a benevolent person until long after this scene. (There are many moments in earlier chapters where Kokichi is trying to be helpful to the group or to a specific character, however every time he attempts this, it is painted in a negative light because he is either going against the protagonist’s will or achieving things in a more underhanded manner via lies or provocation). 

When I saw Kokichi crying for Gonta, my first thoughts were, “I am going to THROTTLE this fucking BASTARD.” Because even if those tears were real, Kokichi was still the one fully responsible for Gonta’s death, so I felt that he had no right to shed tears over it. If it weren’t for Kokichi’s crying during this scene, I would have been very suspicious of how suddenly his evil villain act amped up. If he hadn’t shed tears that were so obviously fake, I would not have been nearly as enraged with him, and therefore not nearly as willing to just accept the fact: “Well. Guess he’s evil now.”

Whereas I would’ve chalked the scene without crying to bad writing, the viewers of the killing game, and by extent the mastermind, would garner suspicion towards his actions. Although Kokichi was not aware that Keebo had direct contact with the outside world, he was very aware that the killing game had to have been broadcasted to somewhere. He had to ensure that he was as convincing as possible; that meant no “bad writing” mistakes could be left anywhere.

I stand by what I said before in that Kokichi’s crying in this scene is just a bunch of crocodile tears. However, with new context and information surrounding the situation, they probably weren’t devoid of emotion. Kokichi only allowed himself to cry here in order to properly double back on his new mastermind persona, however, unlike what I believed before, he most likely did feel remorse at the deaths of Gonta and Miu. He just broke his last standing moral code: don’t murder people. And he broke it by indirectly causing the deaths of two people he may have considered to be his friends. That’s heavy stuff! 

Kokichi is faking these reactions to the trial because he has to if he wants to deceive everybody. But... the best acting comes from the heart.

LONELINESS AND GUILT:

As I covered in my initial reaction to Kokichi’s breakdown, I felt as though he couldn’t possibly have any remorse for his actions, so he must have been devastated knowing that he would now be truly alone. This view was heavily influenced by Shuichi’s words after the trial... because they were true. 

After Kokichi criticizes the group for coming to Kaito’s aid, Shuichi turns around and tells Kokichi that he is the pathetic one because he will always be alone. There are no lies to these words. Now that Gonta is dead, and now that Kokichi has gone so far into his persona, not a single person wants to even be near him.

Now that I’ve established that Kokichi’s actions post-trial were most definitely an act and not representative of his true feelings, we can discuss what his true feelings may have been. I come back to the idea of Kokichi fearing being alone because, hey! My past ignorant self was actually onto something!

The acknowledgement that Kokichi feels remorse for his actions just makes this situation even sadder for him; not only did he just indirectly murder two people and has to put up with the guilt of that, but now, nobody cares about him either. Not that anybody in the cast cared for him all that much in the first place (aside from Gonta), but Shuichi’s words to him here seal his fate as the permanent outcast and assigned villain of the group. He had already been struggling with loneliness throughout the beginning chapters of the game, and now Shuichi - the only person he finds truly trustworthy (according to his little whiteboard, at least) - is confirming to him that nobody wants him. Ouch.

I am personally led to believe that a large part of the reason that Kokichi ends up sacrificing himself in Chapter 5 has a lot to do with the broken feelings he would’ve had under the combined guilt of his actions and the crushing reality of loneliness.

Would Kokichi have offered to sacrifice himself anyways given the circumstances? Probably, yeah. However, the way he was so accepting of his death reminded me a lot of Kaede in Chapter 1; she couldn’t allow herself to take the First Blood Perk because she felt that she had to atone for her sins, or she could never live with herself. Kokichi seems, in the moment, to be more than willing to die, perhaps for the same reasons. Not only would be feel like he has to make up for the deaths he caused, but he would also feel like he had nothing left to live for, at least not within the academy anyway.

Or maybe he was just tired from the poison, not from life. But who’s to say? We can’t see inside of his head.

FINAL THOUGHTS / CONCLUSION:

OK, so some final thoughts before wrapping this up: Holy shit, Kokichi is an asshole.

Even knowing the emotional turmoil Kokichi must have been going through, it was still infuriating to see him treat Gonta so poorly in Trial 4. Perhaps it was just a part of his act as well? Regardless, it really just did not sit with me well. Under no circumstance should Kokichi be continulessly yelling at Gonta while he’s crying from the insults, for real. But hey, at least if it was just another act from Kokichi, then he can rest easy knowing he certainly had me fooled.

...

So, in my opinion, Kokichi’s infamous breakdown was entirely fabricated. He had to fake both his tears and his sadism in order to fully convince the world that he was a force of pure malice in order to get away with what he had planned. However, despite his apparent change in personality, he never really was sadistic, and may have even cared for the people around him till the very end.

That’s all I guess  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[nagisasstunningpersonality]

About Assassination Classroom Characters - Kimura Justice

He has the least to go off so far but I’ll try my best 

Most notably, Kimura is the fastest runner in 3E. Due to his agility, he’s also the best at parkour. 

The most we really get to see about him is the one arc about his name, Justice. I don’t think I really need to explain ‘kira kira names’, as they do so in canon, but it really is a highly embarrassing thing to be called. And, hey, kids can be cruel. 

That entire arc leads me to believe that Kimura cares a lot about what other people think of him. I’m not entirely sure what the extent of the bullying was, but just over something like his name... it seems to me that it got to him enough for his grades to slip and land him in 3E. 

Adding to this is his seeming lack of friendship. From what I can tell, Kimura is never really... seen with anyone specifically. Not really in a friendly kind of way. 

My assumption is that he hangs with the ‘guys’ in general, but he doesn’t seem to have any real relationship with anybody. 

For a guy who comes off as pretty insecure, lack of social relationships also makes sense to me, though I don’t think shy is necessarily the correct word. 

Furthering that argument once again, there’s an internal competitiveness where Okano is concerned. Kimura absolutely wants to be the best... perhaps because what else does he have, if he isn’t?

The character book also implies that he was at the same elementary school as Mimura and Sugaya. He wanted to be friends with them, or at least coveted a close friendship, but he felt like his sports put him at a bit of a distance. Clearly he hasn’t quite find the courage to approach people on that level. 

This really isn’t canon, but I think he’d probably get along with Sugino quite well, especially more towards the middle of the year. They’re both sporty, clearly, and the right level of slightly awkward. I don’t think they’d step on each other’s toes, considering different disciplines. But I don’t know, I think they’d have the potential to be good friends. 

Then of course there’s justice. Kimura does have a very strong moral code, and wants to put that to use somehow. 

It’s interesting to me that he was actually on ‘team kill’ during the civil war arc. I can see why, though, considering he’d been told all year that killing Korosensei was the right thing to do. 

Again, not really canon, but forgive me okay there’s not that much actual content for him. A part of me kind of thinks he might have a sort of... admiration for Karma? Not in the way Nagisa did, but it still might be there. There’s a small mention in the character book that Karma accepting his weird name caused Kimura to think hard about his. It might be a stretch, but he did also side on his team. Outwardly at least, Karma has a very carefree attitude, and for someone who seems to care too much, it’s natural he might wish he could be a bit like that. 

Not that he’d ever dream of approaching him for a conversation, of course. It’s still Karma after all. 

We do know that he occasionally enjoys manga. It’s implied that he does talk to Fuwa about it, and her passion leads him to end up enjoying it too. Though, he never gets so invested that it really sticks with him in the same way. I can imagine them sitting together at lunch and discussing some of the recent shounen jump chapters. 

He also gets along with Yada for group work, but they’re not really friends. 

It’s canon that he has a crush on Kurahashi, which developed due to her very casual way of addressing him. They sit beside each other in class, and she’s a great conversationalist, so it’s natural he might attach himself to that somewhat. 

MAY BE SLIGHTLY TRIGGERING: According to the character book, his father actually got into trouble at work for drunkenly sexually harassing a colleague. And the kicker is, he didn’t really actually apologise for it, even if he’s sorry. Apparently this makes Kimura doubt the world around him a bit. 

I’m assuming his parents stayed together. Unfortunately, male infidelity is a huge problem within Japanese society (hi literally writing my final year essay about it), and it is kind of ‘accepted’ by the wife. However, I do think this would cause a huge strain. It must have, for him to even be aware of it (perhaps he overheard his parents argue or something). 

It’s not entirely clear when this event took place, since it’s only really a mention, but it probably does impact him, and I guess therefore his confidence as a whole. I want to keep this to canon interpretations rather than strings of potential meta, but I can imagine it really sucked to have to witness that. 

In summary, Kimura is kind of plain, honestly. I think if he eventually managed to get over his internal issues and insecurity, he could definitely grow into more of a personality. After his arc, though, where he accepts the name ‘Justice’, it does at least seem like his character is moving in the right direction. 

MASTERLIST

[fmdhyeju]

headcanon 001: thoughts on lily’s title tracks word count: 1,300 words note(s): decided to hop on the train. this is all new writing and song titles are not included in the word count.

into the new world

hyeju believes you’re lying if you don’t believe that lily has the best debut song. she’s not sure if she can perform the track now and give off the same vibes and feelings, but this song feels like home to her. or whatever home should feel like. it’s energetic with a touch of hope; a song that can make you jump on your feet but also bring tears to your eyes. whatever was in this song when it was made, it helped create a truly iconic debut track

gee

if someone were to ask hyeju to perform gee now, she’d probably give them an expression that says hell no. she thinks the girls that performed gee then probably couldn’t perform it now and give it the same results. the fact that it was given to them so early on in their career is why they could pull it off. nineteen year-old hyeju had no problem performing it and actually found the song very addicting. twenty-seven year-old min hyeju, on the other hand, would not like to be subjected to colorful skinny jeans and made to crab walk side to side

nonono

the song is cute to say the least. another track that hyeju finds more difficulty performing now than she did back when it was released. nevertheless what she thinks about the song doesn’t change the fact that she thinks it was a nice song released at the right time in lily’s career. it’s just not a song that exactly stays on hyeju’s personal playlist

tell me

this song is fun. for something released so early in lily’s career, hyeju can proudly say that she can indeed perform this song without cringing up so much. she really only got to sing the same chorus over and over again, but that said chorus was so catchy and easy to sing along with that she has no complaints. the outfits could have been better though

mr. chu

a continuation to nonono and a song that hyeju thinks was released out of order. it probably should have come after tell me. again, she’s not a big fan of such concepts because she’s not like minhee and minah where she can come off as naturally cute. it was fine with her back when lily first released it but nine years into her career, she’s not sure how much she wants to be singing about some imaginary dude named mr. chu

oh!

if someone were to ask hyeju what her least favorite title track is so far, it would be oh. sure, the girls looked great and she’s sure their fans had a blast with the song, but it’s personally not one that she enjoyed performing then nor does she enjoy having to perform again now (though they don’t have to do so these days). probably the first song where hyeju really had to try to keep a smile throughout the whole performance, but she’s always been honest about how she disliked both the song and concept 

run devil run

now if someone were to ask hyeju what her least favorite outfit concept was, it’d be run devil run. she doesn’t have a lot of problems with the song itself though she doesn’t think it’s very impactful. she wouldn’t use the word boring because it has its elements that she thinks is catchy, but she just thinks it’s something that’s been done before. and she hates leather. any kind of leather. it’s so hard to dance in and sweat never dries out

nobody

lily’s back with the retro concept and if it wasn’t for the sparkly outfits and mic stands, she thinks she’d have liked it more. however, the song does feel like bce’s attempt at trying to remake gee. the repeated chorus lines and everything following a specific formula just makes the song nothing special to hyeju

genie (tell me your wish)

a great comeback to come after nobody and also one of hyeju’s favorite songs that lily has released so far into their career. it’s one of those songs that she’s confident will continue to remain in people’s memories years and years later because of how good it is. the sailor outfits were absolutely adorable too and she enjoyed pretty much everything about this era

hoot

has hyeju mentioned that she’s not a huge fan of puffed hair? the whole james bond girl thing that was going on with their outfits during this time wasn’t all that great in her mind, but the song isn’t too bad. it’s not that great either. it’s just kind of forgetful to her especially because of where it falls in their discography

the boys

though the song isn’t up in her usual lane, she thinks the entire concept around this title track totally makes up for it. the sort of royalty vibes they had with their outfits definitely made her feel like a queen, and it’s a song that she thinks only the lily girls can properly pull off. no offense to any juniors that tried. she’s not a huge fan of the beat or the song in general, but she enjoyed the overall promotional period because of how powerful they looked

i got a boy

okay, the song itself definitely gives hyeju a headache because of how many genres are involved with it. however, she thinks it’s a pretty genius song. one of those songs that she can’t see anybody else doing well unless they’re lily themselves. the energetic dance is probably her favorite part of the song though. it’s the kind of choreography that hyeju wishes they got a little more of

be my baby

while the song isn’t terrible, hyeju thinks she could have choreographed the song better herself. who points out a literal baby while dancing to a song called be my baby? she thinks it’s corny, and it’s also something she disliked with run devil run (where the girls had to literally pretend to run). overall, the song’s a little forgetful and there are times when hyeju honestly forgets they even released it

only one

the song wasn’t their most popular, but only one is a song that hyeju likes. she just likes it. there’s no specific reasons behind it, but it’s a nice song to listen to and just hum along to. some may argue that it’s boring, but she thinks the melody line is really good and the chill vibes behind it all feels very much like something that was made for her

luv and five and remember

if you ask hyeju, she’ll say that all three of these eras pretty much blurred into one. they felt like a continuation of one another to the point where sometimes she can’t tell which song is being played. put them on during a random play dance section and she’ll have to ask what’s what. however, if she were to rank them she thinks they’d go luv > remember >>>> five 

mr. mr. 

this is the song that lily should have made a comeback with after only one. they went down a sort of romantic, mature vibe and then went straight back to their sort of innocent and gentle vibe. not that she’s against such concepts, but she thinks it becomes jarring if it gets mixed up like that. the suits with mr. mr. make the song bearable despite the song not being the best song they’ve released as a group. it’s proof that styling can really make a song seem better than it actually is

i’m so sick

hyeju isn’t really adamant on lily having to abandon their old concept and go straight into a super mature one, but she thinks i’m so sick is a step into the right direction. everything about the song is kind of simple in her mind (choreography especially), but she definitely enjoys getting to have ad-libbed the do you love me part with minhee for each music show. she’s not huge on the song itself, but it’s not bad. she’s pretty indifferent towards it