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cr4yolaas · 2 months

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the weight of words — alhaitham x mute! reader

notes: based off of this tiktok i found a long while ago featuring a poem that serves as the base for this fic <3 i feel like this is very poorly written / rushed and it lacks a good flow but i wanted to get it out asap bc i didn’t have any more energy to write it LOL

tags: italics represent handwritten notes, reader is implied to be rlly smart / top of the class, implied depressive episode (reader), self deprecation (reader), fluff → angst → fluff, may or may not be an inaccurate rep. of mute individuals, ooc alhaitham, not proofread

this was a little more irksome than he wanted to admit.

at the very top of the akademiya, far away from prying eyes, sat a student bathed in sunlight. from a distance, he observed. you held a book in one hand and an apple in the other, while your legs dangled off of the ledge. he couldn’t discern much from your backside.

but what bothered him the most was that you were seated in “his” spot. the spot he always crept away to during lunch, mainly for its isolation and breathtaking view.

without hesitation, alhaitham approached you. he tapped on your shoulder and stared with an intensity akin to the blazing sun in june. “excuse me,” he began. “i normally sit here. i would greatly appreciate it if you moved to another place, as i’m most accustomed to this spot.”

a silence washed over as you stared up at him. your lack of response left him annoyed — did you find this funny?

however, as you set down your book and snack gently, alhaitham found himself surprised for the first time in a while.

a notebook sat on your lap as you wrote rapidly. the man watched quietly.

i’m afraid not. there are countless other spots up here, and i just happened to get to this one first.

a sigh slipped from his lips. while he wasn’t unfamiliar with stubborn personalities around campus, this particular interaction seemed to interest him more than it irritated him. alhaitham nodded and sat beside you, much to your surprise.

he listened as you flipped your page and began writing again, this time taking up less space on the paper.

why do you like sitting here? you passed the notebook to him.

he wrote much slower in comparison to you, however, his handwriting bore an elegance you had not seen before, as if each letter carried a song in the ink. you found it beautiful.

the lack of noise.

his short response made you smile — simple and straight to the point. another thing you deemed wonderful.

he did not hand the notebook back to you, but instead, continued to write. i dislike unnecessary sounds. they serve as useless interruptions. up here, i find that in comparison to the chatter of students, the ambience is soothing. alhaitham placed the notebook in your lap gingerly and looked into the distance, his gaze absent yet his thoughts reverberating.

you continued this back and forth with him for the entirety of the lunch break. the lines engraved on your palms spilled over with ink smears, and you found your dominant arm growing weary. you did not write your goodbyes on the paper, therefore leaving your conversation unfinished. you left with a smidge of warmth in your heart and a smile on your face in hopes of meeting him again the next day.

from afar, you could see the way he sat leaning slightly more towards one side, and the occasional tapping of his fingers against the table as he wrote. he drank from a small mug of what you presumed to be coffee, but rather than holding the handle, he gripped the cup from its mouth. another intricacy that piqued your interest.

he noticed your stare after a few seconds, eyes of jade and clementine meeting yours. without a word, he relocated to your table, sitting directly across from you. “hello,” he greeted softly. “i didn’t know you frequented this place either.” his gaze flickered over to your notebook peeking out of your schoolbag, and when you pulled it out to respond to him, he found himself getting uncharacteristically excited.

i don’t, actually. i wanted a change of pace, but i’m not sure how much i’m enjoying it. you pushed the book across the table to him.

is it too loud to study? that’s surprising.

you looked up at him questioningly for a moment before jotting down your reply. i’m not studying. i’m just here to read. his lips upturned noticeably at your words, an expression you wished to carve into the crevices of your memory for eternity. he was painstakingly beautiful.

alhaitham didn’t respond for a handful of seconds, instead opting to look outside the window to his left. strands of sunlight draped themselves onto his perfectly crafted face and fell between each strand of hair. a view that compared to the one at the top of the akademiya.

a conversation of short responses — ranging from questions about your darshan, to your favorite season, to the books you enjoyed reading — ensued, the evidence splayed onto the paper. you appreciated his company, for it was rare that anyone sought to talk with you.

he asked another question, his curiosity seeping out endlessly. why do you communicate like this?

a thin-lipped smile etched itself onto your lips. the ink of your pen ghosted atop the paper, your hesitation evident. i was born mute. i have no voice, therefore i cannot communicate in a normal manner.

you grew increasingly anxious as he looked at you with an expression that was terrifyingly unreadable. your hands rested atop the notebook, keeping it away from him for reasons you didn’t understand quite yet.

“that’s okay,” he spoke, the baritone of his voice cutting through your shared silence. “i don’t mind it. actually, i think i prefer it. over the grating voices of the other scholars i know, at least.” he went on about his senior, a friend in kshahrewar who apparently could never keep his mouth shut in his presence. you merely listened, soaking in his words and absorbing each syllable that spilled out of the cracks between his teeth. your confession rendered you utterly silent, but seemingly, he paid no mind.

again, your conversation ended without a proper goodbye. your notebook sat still on the table. moments after his departure, you stayed in your seat, contemplating the complications of this newfound acquaintance.

alhaitham’s life revolved around routine and quiet. he needed both to go about his day in an efficient and satisfying manner; otherwise, he would end up feeling rather unfulfilled and bothered.

perhaps that is why he found himself so drawn to you. in comparison to many of his classmates, who were incessantly obnoxious and needlessly talkative, you were quiet, not just vocally, but in every other aspect. your handwriting was consistent and each letter looked just as neat as the other. your responses were similar to his in that they were direct and honest. and, oddly, you radiated a warmth that he could not see in anyone else.

his next encounter with you wouldn’t be for a handful of days. he knew you were a student, thus resulting in his confusion — he had never seen you around campus until that day.

he ran into you during one of his lectures. you sat right beside him in a seat that wasn’t usually occupied. he began to question you with pen and paper, as usual.

since when were you enrolled in this class?

i always have been. this isn’t a necessary class for my darshan, it’s just an extra period for me to increase my credits. i don’t come to class very often.

he quirked a brow up. you fiddled with your pen.

interesting how i haven’t heard of you until now. alhaitham smiled softly at your muffled giggle, one that he had not heard until then. the noise swarmed his chest with a lightness he could not replicate.

you might have fallen too soon.

alhaitham was a simple man, yet alluring all the same. you had snuck away his perfections and imperfections in a different notebook. for instance:

3 - straightforward and direct

21 - prefers tea over coffee

44 - can’t sleep without a weighted blanket

your ever-growing infatuation for him began to blossom in the cavities of your stomach, and soon, it would infect everything above. you could not bear it — nights spent in solitude, where he would discuss his interests (which were minimal) until you fell asleep; afternoons spent in comfort, where you would share a slice of cake to celebrating a particularly difficult exam. he consumed your very being, the neurons that invoked muscular response and the veins that carried your blood here and there; all of it was him. and yet, you could not meaningfully share this with him, your silence embedding your heart in a crevice far away.

it seemed that he got to it first, anyways.

alhaitham asked you a simple question — if you were capable of speaking for a day, what would you say? he had begun carrying his own memo book to conversate — another addition to the list.

you sat in silence for a brief period before writing, every thought and feeling and idea that has ever encountered my mind would leave my lips.

he wrote, then i will give you just that, and more.

when you began dating alhaitham, you found that he was much more eager to “speak” to you consistently. he would write in his same font and present to you a variety of inquiries, ranging from plans for the day to what you wanted for dinner. he was the epitome of a loving man, a far cry from the tales of coldheartedness and brutality you’ve heard of him. and yet, something began to gnaw at your lungs as he did so.

alhaitham was your voice to speak through — he was the monotonous ramblings, the heavy whispers, the gentle laughs; he held all of those for you. seemingly, life became far more breathable.

but your love was just as restricting as it was kind. to speak is to suffer, but to not speak at all is beyond that — it is torture. nights were spent staring at alhaitham’s sleeping figure, questioning whether he truly felt the affection you expressed. gifts, contact, quality time; what good was it if you could not do something as simple as converse with him? it extended beyond him, as well — for reasons unknown, it grew increasingly difficult to communicate with your new professors and classmates, the downturns of their lips as you pulled out a notebook gut-wrenching. you questioned if alhaitham felt the same.

you began to spiral.

a rapid set of knocks arrived at your door at a questionable hour. the sun hung high in the sky, albeit obscured by your curtains. a soft buzz rung in your room.

“i know you’re inside,” a voice spoke from the other side of the wood. he knocked again.

you made no move to open the door, nor to approach it, nor to get up from your bed. in response, the hinges creaked and heavy footsteps neared.

“why have you locked yourself in here?” alhaitham asked, his tone indiscernible. you didn’t see it, but you heard him shuffling around your bedroom. “where is your notebook?”

it was silly. he spoke as if you could respond, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be sorrowful or upset.

he pulled the blanket from off of your head, his face indifferent as he witnessed your disheveled state. “i’m not sure what’s going on, but i can assure you i will wait until you’re well enough to speak to me again. i will always wait.” alhaitham set his own memo book and pen beside your pillow. a warm hand held yours, a signal of reassurance. “please get better as soon as you can.”

he turned around to leave, and you could not bring yourself to reach out for him. what would you do? would the words crawl out of your throat, akin to a miracle? or would you plead at him with desperate eyes in hopes he’d read your mind? you did not know. every instance would inconvenience him in some way — that you could not bear.

you did not step foot outside for another week. alhaitham (and kaveh, much to your surprise) had left meals and gifts next to your door, all of which remained untouched. you were in stasis.

each thought had been replaced by a fog so asphyxiating that it had drowned every word the moment it rose to the surface. a bubbling exhaustion boiled in you. you wished to speak, to express anything at all, to apologize for inconveniencing those around you, and to apologize to alhaitham for putting him through such an obstacle.

as if sensing this desire, he arrived at your dorm again, this time with a more gentle appearance and a large bag behind him.

you reached out for the notebook he placed beside you a week prior. why are you here?

he kneeled down beside you, paying no mind to your disheveled appearance, and spoke softly, “i’m sorry.” if it were fitting, he would have laughed at the instantaneous furrow of your brows. “i should’ve realized. and in failing to do so, i have failed you.” alhaitham took the notebook and pen from your grasp, and with an unrivaled delicacy, he held you.

“i would give up my own voice if it meant i could spend an eternity with you,” he began. “i do not care if you lack a voice of your own. you’re still embedded in my heart all the same.”

you had not written to him for days. and yet, he understood everything. he read the words displayed in your features with a familiarity no one had demonstrated.

758 - willing to help me heal.

alhaitham sat across from you, his back hunched over his work and his face framed with a mix of feather-gray hair and wispy sunlight. he wrote with an unmatched fluidity, as if time were escaping him.

he let out a sigh as he set down his pencil and sat up straight. “why must you sit with me if you’ve finished this assignment weeks ago? it’s as if you’re mocking me.”

it’s entertaining. he grabbed the notebook from your side of the table and wrote haphazardly, contrasting his smooth technique before.

it’s really not. i feel as if i’m being ridiculed and observed under a microscrope. it’s horrible, he teased.

you’re smart, anyways. you’ll survive.

afternoons in the akademiya’s library were once suffocating and exhausting. to be surrounded by peers who could only sneer and misjudge and question was unpleasant. now, as you sat with your lover in a soft silence, you felt at peace.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin impact angst #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #alhaitham smut

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anthurak · 5 months

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One of the more subtle details about Hazbin Hotel that I’m particularly interested to see is what the actual Power Dynamics between the various characters are going to look like.

Because with everything we’ve seen from Helluva Boss, I have a hunch that there has actually been a bit of misdirection going on in the promotional material. Specifically in how the Overlords like Valentino, Vox, Velvette and even Alastor are presented as these very powerful and dangerous threats to the Hotel and that Charlie and Vaggie are probably in way over their heads trying to deal with them.

Buuuttt… then we ALSO have everything that Vivzie has mentioned behind-the-scenes about the class and power rankings of Hell. Specifically, the fact that apparently only the most powerful of the Overlords like Valentino and Alastor can be considered simply on par with the Goetic Nobility like Stolas in terms of power. Or even more notably, the fact that Charlie herself is apparently just as, if not MORE powerful than the Kings of SIN.

And thanks to Helluva Boss, we have a pretty good idea just HOW POWERFUL the likes of Asmodeus, Bee-lzebub and Mammon are. Which in turn could very well be giving us a hint of just how powerful Charlie might be.

Basically, I have a hunch that both the audience AND the Sinners (even those close to Charlie like Angel Dust) are MASSIVELY underestimating just how POWERFUL the Princess of Hell REALLY is. Like how her normally upbeat, friendly, ‘Disney Princess’, ‘Just wants to help everyone’ demeanor belies the fact that she may very well be fully capable of obliterating the likes of Valentino, Vox or even Alastor with EASE if she really wanted to.

Imagine if this ends up being a big reveal at some point? Like we get these subtle hints in the early episodes that Charlie may be quite a bit more powerful than she’s really letting on, perhaps by giving us a glimpse at what her parents are capable of. Until at some point one of the Overlords just takes things a bit too far. Say, Valentino is getting ready to full-on destroy the hotel, or about to straight-up kill Angel Dust for good with one of those Blessed Weapons we know are floating around?

Only for Charlie to just straight up DELETE Val with a metaphorical snap of her fingers.

And before I go into the broader narrative implications of all this, it’s also worth mentioning that this deliberate underestimation could apply to Vaggie as well. Because if Vaggie really is a former Exorcist, ie; a Fallen Angel like a lot of people are theorizing, this would likely mean that she’s fully capable of permanently killing Sinners, even the Overlords, if she really wanted to. Meaning that while Vaggie might not be as powerful as Charlie, she is no less DEADLY.

(As an aside, regarding the ‘mechanics’ of what could make Charlie so dangerous to sinners beyond simply raw power: We know that Sinners can only permanently die to Angelic Weapons. In other words, the ‘Holy’ power of the Angels and Heaven destroys them for good. And remember who Charlie’s father is? Not just an angel, but one of the most powerful angels to ever exist.)

What I find so interesting about all this is that it could completely upend a lot of the character and power dynamics we might be expecting. For example, totally recontextualizing Alastor’s motivations in supporting Charlie and her Hotel; as powerful as he might be, he’s still far beneath Charlie.

As well as introduce what could be Charlie’s real personal conflict and arc for the show. Because Charlie still wants to HELP the sinners of Hell, and almost certainly doesn’t want to be or act like some all-powerful being lording over subjects they consider fall beneath them. Even though she could.

And of course, being an ultimate overlord is very likely what Lucifer will be ENCOURAGING Charlie to be. Which in turn feeds nicely into Charlie’s conflict with her father.

Finally, let’s consider Charlie’s motivation, paired with what she could become: She wants everyone to be happy and safe and generally the best, and she has the absolute POWER to IMPOSE her idea of ‘happiness’ and ‘goodness’ on others if she really wanted to.

Now is it just me, or does that sound a LOT like what we saw of HEAVEN in Helluva Boss?

What if Hazbin Hotel ultimately presents Heaven, the Angels and possibly God him/her/themself as the TRUE antagonist of the show, AND a full-on villainous counterpart to Charlie?

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #hazbin alastor #hazbin valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin overlords #lucifer morningstar #helluva asmodeus #helluva beelzebub #helluva mammon #hazbin hotel theory #charlie is probably WAY more powerful than people give her credit for #charlie has MASSIVE 'cinnamon roll who could totally murder you' energy #i think anyone who seriously expects alastor to hold any kind of real power over charlie is probably going to be in for a BIG surprise

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fqirysim · 5 months

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untitled--

genre(s): angst, some fluff at the end, exes to best friends to lovers, highschool au, lowercase intended, lots of pov changes

requested: nope !

pairing(s): yang jungwon x reader, ft. yuna (itzy), and intak (p1h)

word count: 7.2k (my longest fic yet ! )

warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, a tiny bit of infidelity

synopsis: you had been in love with yang jungwon since the day you met him.

note: lowercase is intended, lots of pov changes! (read carefully so you don’t get confused lol). this took me a year to make PLEASE don't judge too harshly i put my heart and soul into this 😭. took me a year to make but could not come up with a title for the life of me, hence why it is called untitled, silly silly me. this was really fun to make though and although it took me a while to make, i'm very proud of it. lmk if you want to be added to my taglist and i will gladly do so !! special thanks to my bestie abby and my bf dean for proofreading love you both <3333

—------

you were certain this was the end of your friendship with jungwon. again. but this time you knew it would be permanent.

he was the boy who lived next door. growing up, you had always admired him from afar. the class president who everyone, including the upperclassmen, seemed to get along with.

you had liked him until freshman year, when you got tired of pining over someone who didn’t seem to hold any interest in you. as comical as it seems, that was around the time that he had started to take an interest in you.

and so he courted you, bringing you your favorite drink, walking you home, even coming over for dinner and hanging out at your house. this helped blossom a friendship that no one saw coming, and it wasn’t long until people started to wonder if you two were an item.

it took two months for jungwon to muster up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

you were sure you were over your crush on him, that it was just a silly childhood crush. but as you hung out with him more and more, you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. of course you said yes, because who wouldn’t say yes to the pretty starry-eyed boy standing before you?

jungwon was a nice boyfriend; going on dates quite often, never fought, and he would buy you flowers without being asked.. maybe the latter was why the whirlwind relationship only lasted five months.

you remember the day so vividly, sitting on the bench at your favorite park; the same park where jungwon had asked you to be his, and here he was, asking you to break up.

it seemed poetic in a kind of way, starting as his, and leaving as no one’s.

“i’m sorry. i’ve just lost romantic feelings,” jungwon stated, staring down at the grass as a breeze of wind came, the blades of grass swaying slightly. “it’s just that we’ve both been so busy with other things, and i guess we kinda just like, drifted apart because of it.”

“yeah, i think so too,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the slight sting in your heart.

his head snapped up, your eyes finally meeting his, “wait, actually? you’re not lying?” the sound of relief in his voice made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.

“do you want to get rid of me that bad?” you instead teased with a grin.

“no!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “i still wanna be friends with you. i might not like you romantically anymore, but i don’t wanna like, lose the friendship we have, you know?”

“yeah,” you replied, “we can still be friends.”

and you two meant it. there were no tears, and no broken hearts (that you would like to admit). it was just a simple case of the right person and the wrong time, and as the years continued, you tried to convince yourself that it was just nothing. that jungwon was not your “right” anything- he was just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

you were almost successful. until your last year of high school approached.

you and jungwon kept your word, you stayed friends. always being seen together; walking to class, walking home, studying in the library, eating lunch in the cafeteria.

people still believed you were together, and you always had to correct them, because no you and jungwon were no longer together and no you were not a thing.

they never believed you, though.

there was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes when someone would ask. that you and jungwon were a thing and that he was yours and you were his. but you never did, callingyourself crazy for even thinking of doing so.

you found yourself doing it again as yuna had asked you earlier in the week.

yuna was the new girl this year, having transferred from jyp high. from what you heard, she was nice, smart, and she was gorgeous. you were never one to put yourself down, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel insecure standing next to her.

“no, jungwon and i are not dating,” you smiled politely. it was almost like a script at this point. “we’re just good friends.”

“that’s good to hear,” yuna smiled, her eyes sparkling. “i just wanted to ask him out, but i wasn’t going to if you had a thing!”

“oh, you’re thinking of confessing to him?” you questioned. there was that little part of you again. the part that always said no! tell them you’re a thing! tell them to not do it!

“yeah, he’s in a bunch of my classes. he’s super smart and polite and he always knows how to make me laugh. and he has such pretty eyes,” she sighed dreamily as her mouth formed into a lovesick smile.

“well, he has that effect on people,” you grinned.

i would know, you thought.

“i say go for it! he’s not particularly interested in anyone, you have a good chance.”

“you really think so?” she asked, eyes wide.

god, i hope not, you thought. as shitty as it was, you didn’t want jungwon to move on. you felt sick at the thought of him being with someone else.

“why not?” you said instead. “he’ll be at the library after school today studying, i’m supposed to meet him, but i can just tell him something came up.”

“oh my god, you’re the best!” she squealed, engulfing you in a hug. “thank you thank you thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, ignoring the green monster growing within you.

—----

it had been four days since your conversation with yuna. every time you saw him, you waited for him to bring up the date with baited breath- but he hadn’t said anything. not yet at least.

or maybe yuna simply didn’t ask him on a date. that’s what you were secretly hoping, at least.

it seemed hoping wasn’t enough. on the fifth day jungwon approached you from down the hall with those twinkling eyes and a bright smile you love so much, he seemed more energetic than usual with a little hop in his step.

“you’re not gonna believe what happened today!” he exclaimed as he reached you at your locker.

you could believe it. you were the one who hooked yuna up after all. yet you feigned curiosity as you looked at him quizzically, “what is it?”

“yuna asked me on a date! me! of all people! she’s so cool and smart and nice and pretty,” he said with a dreamy look on his face.

you knew that look. the far away gaze as he thought of her. it was one you would never forget. it’s how he used to look at you. that lovesick grin and those twinkling eyes.

it had never bothered you before when jungwon had crushes on other girls, because well, that’s all they were. they never escalated into anything more. looking at his lovestruck expression, realization hit that jungwon wasn’t yours anymore.

you shouldn’t have thought of it that way. you should be happy for him! you should’ve been celebrating with him and cheering him on!

you couldn’t help the bittersweet smile on your face as you replied, “oh, well that’s nice.”

his smile faltered slightly at your expression, concern slowly forming on his face.

“are you okay?” he asked.

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, regaining your composure. “i’m happy for you! and don’t worry about spending less time with me, you’re gonna be a busy guy now! with a girlfriend…”

“okay, she is not my girlfriend. and even if she was, I would never ditch you!”

“yeah whatever you say, loverboy,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder.

“no seriously, y/n,” he replied, softly. “are you okay with yuna and i being a thing? i just don’t want it to be weird because you and i used to be a thing, and i know we’re both over that but i just wanted to make sure-,”

“what, me?” you scoffed, cutting the boy off. “what you and i had wasn’t serious, it was just some dumb high school fling.”

even as you spoke those words, you knew they weren’t true. it was more than just a fling. you loved him and maybe you still did.

silence hung between you, the hallway getting quieter as the remaining students scrambled to their classes, the late bell ringing, leaving you and jungwon in the hallway alone.

he looked hurt at what you said. you immediately wanted to take it back, to say you didn’t mean it and that he was your first love and you didn’t want him going on that date with yuna.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that,” you muttered, not being able to meet his eyes and instead turning to close your locker.

“no, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied, as he started to back away, making his way to his class down the hall. “you’re right, it was just a fling, and honestly, it’s so weird to think of us as a couple.”

it was like your world was falling apart around you as he spoke. did you interpret his hurt expression wrong? maybe this all was one-sided. did he not feel his heart breaking like you did? did he not wonder occasionally (or everyday) how his life would be if you were still together? did he not miss what you had?

maybe there really was nothing between you and jungwon but friendship.

“yeah, so weird,” you awkwardly smiled, walking to catch up with him. “but you and i, we’re good, right?”

“yep, no worries,” he grinned back.

“good,” you smiled. “so when’s your date?”

his eyes brightened ever so slightly as you asked. he started to describe his date– how he was going to take her to the beach and have a picnic and play in the sand.

you nodded along, your mind wandering off to when jungwon would take you on beach dates, burying him in the sand, splashing him with water and swimming away before he could splash you back.

you looked over at the boy in question, his starry eyes wide as he talked about his date plans, his smile wide and giddy, his tone as sweet as honey as he talked about her.

you knew you shouldn’t villainize yuna– she was a nice girl, a very nice one. it wasn’t her fault you were still in love with jungwon, and it surely wasn’t her fault that she liked him. it’s not like you could choose who you could fall in love with.

you of all people would know.

so you smiled and nodded along as you walked him to class, listening to him go on and on about his plans. you finally settled with the fact then and there, that jungwon would never be yours again. you had to let go.

—--------

it has been six months since that day. the day that you had decided to give up. yuna and jungwon have been inseparable since then.

he kept to his word though; still studying with you after school, showing up when you needed him, hanging out together. sometimes yuna would tag along, which you didn’t mind. she was fun to be around.

you also didn’t mind being the third wheel when she was around, instead teasing the couple and even offering to take pictures for them. they were a lovely couple and they were seemingly happy– jungwon especially, and that was all that mattered.

the school year was coming to an end, and seeing as it was your senior year, people were throwing parties almost every weekend.

you went every once in a while, had some fun, did some underage drinking, even flirted with a couple of people.

tonight was the party though.

intak was throwing his first party of the year, and everyone knew his parties were legendary.

you sat in the uber with jungwon and yuna, anticipating the night before you. you were excited, to say the least. the last time you went to a party was a month ago, and you were ready to have fun. you even put on your best party outfit for tonight!

you arrived at intak’s house (or more like a mansion), and started to make your way inside until jungwon stopped you.

“wait! before we go in, i think we should go over some basic safety rules!” jungwon exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes with a small laugh as you replied, “only you would go over safety rules at a party.”

“i’m serious, y/n, really bad things could happen,” he shot back with a pointed expression.

“okay wonie, go ahead, we’re all ears,” yuna smiled supportively.

you ignored the slight heart ache at yuna using your old nickname for jungwon- the one you used when you were together.

get it together, y/n you thought. letting go, remember?

you instead smiled and nodded reassuringly at jungwon, who looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention.

he sighed before continuing, “okay, i won’t be doing any drinking so i can babysit you guys all night. if you need to use the bathroom give your drinks to me so i can watch them. and y/n, if you leave the party at any point, for any reason, please let me know first.”

“sir, yes sir,” you muttered.

“now let’s go have some fun!” yuna exclaimed, dragging the both of you by the wrists.

you finally entered the house, where there seemed to be everyone from your school. even kids who graduated last year were in attendance, and as you searched the party for a familiar face that wasn’t jungwon or yuna, intak strolled over, a wide smile on his face.

“you guys made it!” he shouted over the loud thumping of the music. he was wearing a letterman jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of baggy straight legged jeans. the outfit looked so good on him that you had almost forgotten that you were talking to intak of all people.

“you look nice, y/n,” he grinned.

you would’ve had a crush on him if he didn’t flirt with every girl he laid eyes on, and it seemed like his victim of the night was you. but damn did he look good right now.

intak wasn’t a bad guy, he seemed harmless, not like the guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. he just always flirted, with no intentions of making anything serious. most of the girls he talked to never knew the latter though.

but you thought it couldn’t hurt, you were here to have fun, and if flirting with intak was the way to do it, then so be it.

you saw jungwon step forward, about to tell intak to back off and go flirt with someone else, causing you to put your hand on his arm to stop him.

you also noticed how yuna examined the scene in front of her; jungwon trying to be your knight in shining armor, and you with your hand on his arm to stop him. her eyes narrowed slightly in thought as you dropped your hand and turned to intak.

“why don’t you get me a drink and then we can talk?” you smiled dazzlingly. you usually reserved smiles like that for when you wanted to flirt and get wasted, and just as usual, it worked like a charm.

“i’ll be right back then,” intak smiled, before making his way through the crowd of bodies in search of a drink for you.

“really, y/n, intak out of all people?” jungwon questioned, arms crossed.

“yeah, and what about it?” you replied, feeling slightly annoyed at his tone of voice. he had never acted this way towards you before, but you didn’t like it. it wasn’t his business who you flirted with. he talked to you like you were an idiot and you hated the thought of him looking down on you.

yuna awkwardly stood between the two of you, not wanting to be in the middle of your fight, but not wanting to go off by herself at a party filled with people she barely knew.

“‘what about it?’” jungwon mocked your voice in a high pitched tone. “you know how he is, don’t be dumb.”

“dumb? i’m here to have fun, jungwon, not to play third wheel again,” you snapped back. “and why does it matter, you’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my brother, so it’s really none of your fucking business.”

yuna had been looking back and forth between you and jungwon, watching as you glared at each other, waiting for someone to say something. it was like watching a tennis match.

at that moment, intak arrived, back with a red solo cup in hand.

“a drink for the prettiest girl here,” he announced, handing the cup over to you.

“why thank you love,” you replied with an innocent smile as you looked over at jungwon, still glaring at you, his arms crossed against his chest.

ignoring him, you took a sip of the drink you were given, your face scrunching up at the bitter taste.

“hey intak, why don’t we go dance?” you asked, reaching for his hand.

“that sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile of his own before you led him to the dance floor, leaving an enraged jungwon, and a slightly annoyed yuna behind you.

—-----

yuna had seen the way jungwon looked at you. she might have been a bit oblivious at first, but as time went on and she spent more time with the two of you, it became more and more apparent– jungwon had never gotten over you.

at first yuna thought she could sway him, to get him to fall for her the way he fell for you. but it never worked. he looked at you like you were his own personal angel. no matter where you were, who you were with, how you looked, he was absolutely enraptured by you, and oh, how yuna wished he looked at her like that.

it had been fifty minutes since your small tussle, and yuna and jungwon sat outside, occupying two pool chairs as he angrily took sips of his water.

“it’s like she doesn’t even care, she just ran off with him knowing he’ll never want anything serious, knowing he’s gonna lead her on, and i swear when she comes crying to me, i’m gonna tell her ‘i told you’ right to her stupid dumb face,” he rambled, placing his bottle of water harder on the table than he intended to, spilling droplets in the process.

“well, she’s young and single, and she just wants to have fun baby, there’s nothing wrong with that,” yuna replied. “and she has a point, you’re not her brother or anything, so why do you care so much?”

jungwon looked up at yuna, not being able to ignore the bitter tone in her voice, “wait, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“i’m not on anyone’s side, i’m just asking as your girlfriend why you care so much. because honestly, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that you were still in love with her,” yuna sighed, exasperated.

“i am not in love with her, i like you!” he exclaimed, way faster than he should have.

yuna wanted to believe him. she wanted to ignore every bit of doubt in her body and believe every lie he fed to her, but she couldn’t. not when she knew you loved him too. it was heartbreaking, really. to watch the person you love pine over someone else. but it was even worse knowing the feelings were reciprocated.

“don’t lie to me, jungwon,” she deadpanned, feeling her eyes start to water with tears of frustration. “i see the way you look at her, and i know for sure you haven’t gotten over her. you have never once looked at me the way you look at her, and if you like her, just say that. just say that and we can end things here, without having to make this any more heartbreaking than it already is.”

yuna didn’t want to cry. the last thing she wanted to do was cry, but the feelings of anger and embarrassment had overwhelmed her, causing a few traitorous tears to spill. she was angry at herself for letting it get this far, for falling in love with a boy that she knew would never love her back.

but she was also embarrassed. embarrassed that she had even tried to make an effort, that she had thought she could win him over.

she wiped her face with the back of her hand, only for more to spill out, a sob fighting for an escape from her quivering lips.

jungwon raised his hand to wipe the tears away for her, to cup her face and tell her everything would be okay and that he was sorry. but what was he sorry for? sorry for trying to keep you away from intak? or sorry that maybe yuna was right and he did still love you?

just as he opened his mouth to speak, you stumbled out, words slurring and barely able to walk as you stumbled your way over to them.

“hey guys!” you exclaimed, as a worried intak came rushing out the house behind you.

“oh god, y/n, are you okay?” jungwon asked, immediately walking over to your side to support your stumbling figure. yuna would have felt bitter over jungwon rushing to your side faster than he had ever run to hers. yet, despite the devil on her shoulder that told her to be petty, she instead felt worried for you. you could barely even stand up straight.

“what the fuck did you do to her?” jungwon asked, throwing an accusatory look at intak.

“nothing dude, i promise! she was the one who wanted to drink, she had like 5 drinks within the span of like, 10 minutes,” intak replied, panicked. “is she going to be okay? does she have a way to get home safely?”

jungwon looked from yuna to you, who was falling asleep just standing there.

“just take her home,” yuna sighed. “i’m not gonna make you choose because we all know who you’d choose every single time.”

“yuna it’s not like that,” jungwon groaned. “listen, i’ll bring her home, and then i’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk this out, okay? i promise.”

“okay, just get her home safe first,” yuna replied.

you might have been the biggest obstacle in her relationship, but you were still a nice girl, and you had technically done nothing wrong, so yuna had no reason to want to keep you and jungwon apart. you were also wasted as fuck and there was no way you would be able to get home by yourself without something horrible potentially happen to you.

jungwon grabbed his almost full water bottle from the table he was sitting at, muttering that he would “need it to sober you up”.

he gave yuna one last reassuring smile before he walked away, you on his back as he tried his best to carry you home.

yuna sighed as she watched you go. she felt like something bad would happen today, something worse than her argument with jungwon, and she wanted nothing else but to go home and cry.

all she could do was trust jungwon, even if she knew she already lost him, even if she knew she was never a contestant in the first place.

—------

jungwon almost did it.

he almost carried you all the way home, but his legs felt like they were gonna give out once he reached the park near your house, and he decided then and there that he needed a break.

he sat you on the playground set, sitting beside you with a huff.

you were awake by this point, taking long sips of the water bottle jungwon had given you. you wanted to sober up by the time you got home, but it wasn’t really working, with your words still slurring slightly and your mind all dizzy.

the two of you sat in silence as you gazed at the stars and jungwon thought of his argument with yuna.

maybe she was right.

even now, as he glanced over at you, studying the stars, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his face warm up.

“do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend in this park?” you chuckled. “we were so young then, it feels like forever ago.”

jungwon was thrown off by the sudden conversation starter, but still smiled, “yeah, i remember it very well. i felt like i was gonna throw up because i was so nervous.”

you turned your head to look at him and giggled as his smile grew wider.

“what, what are you laughing at?”

“nothing, i was just so in love with you then. i used to think that we would be together forever and ride off into the sunset in a carriage.”

jungwon inspected you as you talked, trying to decipher if there was any meaning behind your words or if it was just the liquor talking.

“i just thought we were some high school fling?” he half-joked as he nudged you with his shoulder. he didn’t want it to seem like he was serious if you were sobering up.

he felt his heart start to race as he stared at your slightly flushed face from the drinks you had, your hair fluttering as a soft breeze blew by. you were everything that jungwon had ever wanted, and here you were, telling him how much you used to love him.

wait, no, what the hell am i doing? jungwon thought to himself. it wasn’t fair to yuna. it was already unfair to her that he only started to date her to get over you. he thought that if he dated her long enough, he would stop loving you and love her instead.

and he genuinely thought it worked. fuck, he thought. i’m such a shitty person.

until he saw you with intak, flirting, dancing with him, laughing at his jokes, he had never felt so jealous in his life, and yuna had noticed. and she was upset, which was fair. what wasn’t fair was jungwon using her to get over you.

use. he hated the icky feeling that word gave him.

“i lied,” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what did you say?” jungwon asked, making sure that he had heard you right.

“i lied,” you repeated, eyes on everything but him. “i loved you, and i think i still do.”

your eyes finally met his as you continued, “you are everything to me, jungwon. i’ve been in love with you since forever, and i only agreed to break up because you said you wanted to.”

jungwon could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he searched your eyes for any hesitation, any sign that this was a lie, or some sort of joke. his heart beat so fast he felt like he was gonna explode as he looked into your eyes, so earnest and so genuine and so filled with love that he knew you had sobered up.

you reached for his hands in his lap, interlacing your fingers with his.

“i can’t keep this from you,” you breathed. “i love you, yang jungwon, and i know you’re dating yuna, but i just have to tell you that i love you, that i always have and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i don’t expect you to leave her for me or anything, but i can’t help it anymore. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

silence hung over the two of you as he tried to form a coherent sentence after your confession. it felt like suddenly his brain didn’t know how to make him talk, to make him say i love you too, or to make him do anything, really.

a minute passed, and then two as jungwon searched your eyes with the same desperation yours had– desperate to love and to be loved by the person sitting in front of you.

jungwon didn’t know who leaned closer first. he thought it was you but maybe it was him. he didn’t even feel like he was in control of his body as he leaned closer and closer, his hand moving to hold your face, searching your face for any hesitation, for any kind of doubt.

you were so close that he could smell the perfume you sprayed before you left your house and the drinks that you had earlier that night.

impatient, jungwon finally closed the gap between the two of you, your soft lips colliding with his. he could have kissed you forever, wanting to stay forever in time there. until realization hit him.

yuna.

he pulled away abruptly, your eyes still closed as you chased his lips with yours. he would have found it cute if he weren’t trying his best not to panic right now. he just kissed you. while he was still dating yuna.

he thought of the look on yuna’s face if she found out– the angry, hurt expression that she had at the party, and even worse, the tears. he would break the poor girl’s heart.

“i should go,” jungwon breathed, quickly standing up from his seat beside you. “it’s almost past my curfew.”

“wait, jungwon,” you said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt before he could walk away. “i think we should talk about this before you go.”

“yeah, we can talk later,” he replied dismissively. “i just need some time to think.”

you opened your mouth to say something else– anything else to make him stay, but closed it as you saw he was already speed-walking in the direction of his house.

you thought that you would lose him forever after your breakup. you had almost lost jungwon once, and you were nearly positive that you won’t be so lucky to keep him this time.

you felt sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was from the drinks or from the events that had just occurred, but nonetheless you felt nauseous.

you hunched over as you started to gag, your vomit flowing out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face.

you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, rinsing your mouth out with water as you started to tear up.

before you knew it, you felt sobs rising, your nose stuffed from crying, your throat getting dry from the sobbing. the embarrassment and sorrow was finally catching up to you– all of the years of repressed love you felt for jungwon, all of the embarrassment from him leaving after you confessed, embarrassment from being a homewrecker– it all came crashing down on you.

you couldn’t go home like this. you were sober enough to know that, with your tear streaked face, ruined makeup, and vomit smelling breath your parents would put two and two together.

your hands shakily reached for your phone in your back pocket, dialing your brother’s number and waiting for him to pick up with baited breath. your brother was your only hope.

“hello?”

“chan?” you breathed into the phone. “i need to sleepover at your place.”

—----

yuna hated this.

the waiting, the feeling of dread as she sat on her bed, awaiting jungwon’s arrival.

the fight that had ensued was horrible, but she believed she made a valid point. if he likes y/n so much he should just go be with her, she thought bitterly.

jungwon had texted her last night at around 1 in the morning, just to make sure she got home safe. yuna didn’t respond. she instead left him on read, still pissed off from the fight.

she used to get butterflies when he would send her texts to make sure she got home safe. but now she didn’t know if he did it because he liked her or if it was just out of common courtesy.

yuna was about to just walk to his house herself before she heard a knock on her door.

“hey it’s uh, me,” she heard jungwon’s muffled voice through the door. “is it okay if i come in?”

“yeah, let’s get this over with.”

she couldn’t meet his eyes as he walked in, striding over to the corner of her bed. yuna hated waiting, but she now felt dread as the pair sat in silence for a bit, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. she had sat nowhere near him.

usually she’d be cuddled into his side, but she instead opted to sit at the head of her bed, seemingly as far away from him as possible. she was worried that if she was too close to him, she’d crack; she’d look at his doe eyes and forgive him and that would ruin the entire point of her argument.

“so,” she cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. “did y/n get home safe?”

“yeah, she’s at her brother’s apartment. he texted me when she got there.”

“‘when she got there?’ did you not walk her there?”

“no, he picked her up from the park near our houses. but anyways, i have something important to tell you.”

yuna felt even more dread seeping into her as he finished his sentence. she should’ve seen this coming from the start. here it comes: the breakup.

“i kissed y/n last night.”

yuna’s eyes widened in surprise. she had expected the breakup, yes. she knew jungwon was emotionally cheating, but now he was physically cheating?

“wait, are you being serious right now?” she laughed in astonishment. she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man sitting in front of her.

“i know it’s bad. i feel horrible, because an amazing woman like you should never be treated as horrible as i’ve treated you, and i am so so sorry,” jungwon started, tearing up from how bad he felt. “all of the apologies in the world could never make up for how i’ve treated you. i’ve made you feel terrible and i’m just making it worse by breaking up with you to be with her.”

“i love y/n, yuna. and i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, or that you had to find out for yourself before i even knew. you are so so perfect yuna-,”

“but i’m just not perfect for you?” she replied, tears starting to form as she breathed those words.

the silence that followed was more than enough to answer her question.

she hated this. she hated this so so much. but she didn’t hate you, or jungwon. she just hated how love worked, how she had to fall in love with the one boy who couldn’t love her back. she hated that she gave her heart away to a boy that was never going to belong to her– not fully.

she wanted to scream, to throw something, hell, maybe even hit him. she instead took a deep breath, composing herself before she said, “okay. go be with her then.”

jungwon looked over at her, wanting nothing but to comfort yuna. he may not be in love with her, but he did love her, and he still cared for her.

“i’m sorry, yuna,” jungwon said instead. “you’re an amazing girl, but you should never be anyone’s second choice, and i’m sorry for making you feel like mine.”

yuna couldn’t even look at him, fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she wore.

“just leave, please,” she muttered.

she didn’t want him to see her cry, he had already broken her once, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart again.

with a guilty expression, jungwon hurried away, also not wanting to see her cry again. he felt gross. he felt disgusted with himself for treating her that way. he didn’t like the person he was with yuna, and he felt sick thinking about how heartbroken she was; how she was so hurt that she couldn’t even look at him.

—------

it has been two weeks since your kiss with jungwon, and you hadn’t heard a word from him since. not a single call or text, hell, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence when you walked by him in the halls.

you had seen yuna around, but seeing as jungwon wasn’t joined at her hip like he used to be, you assumed that things didn’t end quite so well between the two. knowing that you were the cause made you want to never show your face ever again, especially because of the dirty looks yuna’s friends have been giving you.

you were relieved it was the last day of the school year; you’d never have to see yuna again and feel the guilt at seeing the sadness in her eyes.

you walked into the bathroom, wanting to wash your hands after eating your lunch, when you saw yuna, touching up on her makeup in the mirror. she looked at you through the mirror above the sink, before going back to her makeup.

the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you should just leave or hide in a bathroom stall until she left.

“i’m not gonna bite, you know,” yuna chuckled.

you smiled back nervously as you started to make your way to the sink.

“yuna i’m really sorry,” you sighed, mustering whatever courage and dignity you had left.

“it’s okay,” yuna replied, finally meeting your gaze. “although it was wrong for you guys to have kissed, i saw the breakup coming from miles away. he was never mine to begin with.”

you were taken aback just by how calm she was, with the way she spoke those words with such elegance and grace. she had every right to be angry with you, to yell at you and call you a homewrecker.

“even if you did think you were going to break up, that still doesn’t excuse what i did, and i really am sorry,” you said, trying to project every feeling of sympathy and sincerity you could in that one sentence. “i’m not asking you to forgive me, or jungwon, but i just wanted to tell you that you really are a cool person, and you’ve always been so kind to me, even now. all of this for a boy, and he hasn’t even talked to me in the past two weeks.”

“wait, he hasn’t reached out to you at all?” yuna asked, confused. “i thought he would say something to you at least.”

“did he say he would?” you replied, confusion reaching you as well.

“no,” yuna replied, fixing her hair in the mirror. “i just assumed so because he’s in love with you.”

once again, you were stunned by her nonchalance. “he’s not in love with me.”

“don’t be silly,” yuna smiled softly. “i can’t tell if dating jungwon was the best or worst six months of my life, to be honest.”

“don’t get me wrong, he was a good boyfriend,” yuna backtracked quickly after seeing the guilt on your face. “he did the usual boyfriend stuff, and he really did try, but i could just always tell that his heart was always yours.”

you couldn’t meet yuna’s gaze as she said this, your face hot with shame. you felt so bad for her, and you didn’t quite know what to say in response.

“i’m sorry that things ended this way,” you finally said.

“it’s okay, it was gonna happen sooner or later,” yuna replied. “but if i’m right, then you should probably go talk to him, he’s probably going insane with guilt right now over me, and over you. bro’s got a lot on his plate.”

you gave a small chuckle at the last sentence, making yuna smile a bit.

“well thank you for the talk yuna, but i’ve gotta go. i think i need to go find jungwon.”

yuna felt her heart break a bit at the words, but she smiled anyways and said bye as she watched you leave the bathroom. yuna didn’t know if she was supposed to cry or feel happy for you and jungwon, but she did know that she was right. again. she knew his heart had always belonged to you. anyone could see that.

—--------

trying to find jungwon was easier than you expected. he was sitting on a swing, at the park that you became his, then wasn’t his anymore, and then confessed your love to him. there was so much that had happened at this park that it made your head hurt a bit just thinking about it.

“is it okay if i sit here?” you asked, motioning to the swing beside him.

“of course you can,” jungwon replied.

the two of you sat in silence.

“i don’t think we should be friends anymore,” you finally spoke up.

he jerked his head to look at you, shock coursing through him. “wait, why not?”

you took a deep breath before saying, “i can’t be friends with you anymore because i’m in love with you. there hasn’t been a moment since i’ve met you that i haven’t been.”

his heart skipped a beat at your words.

this was it, this is what you’d been waiting for since the day you laid eyes on jungwon. but you didn’t think it would go quite like this. you sat there for a moment as jungwon studied you, and you wished he would say something, anything.

“but did you ever consider how i felt?” he finally asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “have you ever considered that maybe i’ve felt the same way?”

you felt your breath catch in your throat as he continued, “i’ve seen you everyday since we were five when your family moved in next door. but i didn’t really see you until freshman year, sitting in class by the window, your hair flowing from the breeze that came through, doodling in your notebook instead of paying attention to the lesson. and when you caught me staring, you smiled and waved, and i swear i fell in love with you that day. that day, i knew my heart would always be yours.”

“so please,” jungwon pleaded. “please, do whatever you want with it. you could break it a million times over and it would still be yours.”

now this, this was exactly you had always dreamed of.

you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, trying to convey all the repressed love you’ve had for him for years through the kiss. you loved him. you loved every single part of jungwon, every flaw, every imperfection, everything that made him him.

“so does this mean we’re official?” jungwon grinned as he pulled away, a playful look in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling the heart eyes in your gaze and the way your heart melted just by looking at him.

“took you long enough.”

763 notes · View notes

kaeichi · 1 month

Text

love is in the air.

. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.

series. nagi + reader + reo. gn! reader. reader likes guys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.

prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03

⊹ 02 : radiant [wc: 4.6k]

TWO YEARS AGO

“ah…found you, finally.”

nagi huffs out, slightly out of breath as he leans against the railing of the staircase on the fourth floor. what a damn hassle, making him expend such excessive effort like this—it all could've been easily prevented if you just replied to his text asking you about his whereabouts. he figures your phone must've died, because there's no way you wouldn't have noticed his 7 texts of wya? in a row.

“been tryin’ to look everywhere f’you. next time, can you just tell…” he trails off once he steps closer and realizes you're not alone.

“seriously? him again?” your boyfriend len scowls, directing his caustic gaze at the topic of interest, who has conveniently decided to show up at the right moment.

except nothing about this is right at all.

there's no good explanation as to why you feel your heart plummet. your best friend, your only trusted companion whose mere presence incites a familiar sense of comfort and an effortless, breezy smile from you; when you're with him, you don’t have to think much about the reasoning behind why he has that sort of ability, or why it feels like you're right at home whenever you're with him.

you just somehow know. and that's how it has always been.

being with nagi is supposed to be easy, calming, and freeing, even—so why is there a heavy pressure weighing down on you all of a sudden? despite everything, why has he suddenly become the last person you want to see right now?

“seishiro?” apprehensively, you ask, “what are you doing here?”

“i just came to get you. like usual.” while there's nothing wrong with what nagi says, you still inadvertently wince, hesitating to meet either male's eyes as an unpleasant feeling brews in your gut.

“yeah, but i told you i was gonna be with my boyfriend…”

here’s the thing: it's not like nagi doesn't know you have one.

when you first told him about it, he thought it was a joke (a hilarious one, at that). he thought it might've been one of your delusions again, and in typical nagi seishiro fashion he only spared you a fleeting glance with heavy-lidded eyes and a congratulations, i guess in the most listless tone. and when you told him to go on ahead because you wouldn't walk home with him today, he failed to take it seriously once more, thinking it was one of your weird ‘loyalty pranks’ to see if he would actually go and leave you behind.

but when he didn't feel the usual tug on his shoulder, or your arm resting against the top of his dozing head to wake him up at the end of the class, he thought there was something slightly off. when he looked around and saw no trace of you around the classroom or even around the front of the school, he thought there was something really wrong.

nagi’s starting to find this stupid joke less and less funny.

could all of the previous days (or has it already been weeks?) you’ve been talking about this mysterious nobody be true? he should’ve paid more attention. so, yes—it's not like he doesn't know you have one, he just had a rather hard time believing it (though he doesn't know it's due to the fact that you are you, or because maybe he's just in denial about it).

what annoying, annoying jest. when did this so-called “relationship” even have the time to blossom?

“oh…did you?” the white-haired male’s voice doesn't come out as smooth as he’d like. he scratches his neck, feeling it a bit clogged for whatever reason. he's glad he's not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, because even if his voice betrays him, he can at least keep his expression neutral. “well, i’m here now, and i don't wanna walk home alone. i kinda forgot the way back, so i need your help—”

“seishiro!” you hiss, your voice clipped and bordering on desperate; a warning, one that goes right over nagi’s head.

“you know what?” a peeved voice cuts in—len’s, whose patience has worn thin. he has had enough of nagi demanding your attention that was supposed to be reserved for him. if you can’t even keep your eyes solely on your boyfriend, then you might as well be a good-for-nothing cheat. “forget this. i don’t think we’d ever work out if this continues.”

“w-what? wait, huh?” as your face crumbles, nagi is unable to grasp why he feels a faint throb in his chest at the sight. “let's talk about thi—”

“right, let's talk about it, hm?” when you finally meet len’s eyes, you’re barely able to recognize your boyfriend at this point, his taunting sneer morphing his face into someone completely different. is this really the kind, alluring lover that you fell for? “be with me, or cut off this… this nagi kid?”

“what? where did this come from? you can't just suddenly make me choose—”

“and there's your answer.” he scoffs, slapping your hand away that's unconsciously reaching out to him before turning around to leave. in a few rigid strides, he's gone, and you're left staring blankly at the space where he just was.

it is nagi who breaks the silence after a few moments. “…guess this wasn't a good time, huh?” nagi sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as you remain frozen. “well, at least we can go home now.”

“nagi.”

confusion clouding all over his face, he slightly perks up at your somber tone, a hint of unease setting in his stomach. he doesn't like whatever this is that he's suddenly feeling. “why’re you calling me nagi?”

“i think you know why. leave me alone, nagi.”

for quite some time after, those words remain the last thing you've said to him.

nagi has always been somewhat aware of his inability to comprehend feelings, whether it be his own or of others, but this time is the first time he's ever bothered by his lack of aptitude; the first time he's ever felt this swirl of foreign emotions engulf him, of strange, unknown sensations rushing to him all at once. what started as a mere bud sprouting along the expanse of his lungs, grew double—no, triple in size within a matter of days, poking and squeezing the spongy organ until its function proved near useless.

the abundance of petals produced by these excrescences is nothing but a nuisance, blocking his airways and tainting his tongue with the bitter, awful taste of decay, which only seems to get worse with each passing week without a word from you. it's a pain, it's majorly vexing, it's—

“leave me alone, nagi.”

—it's suffocating.

PRESENT

nagi still refuses to join the soccer team.

in the hallways, reo somehow manages to always find you and your companion throughout the day, greeting the both of you with unmatched enthusiasm—the kind that someone really shouldn't have at seven o’clock in the morning. everytime that happens, reo is only met with the same, vacant stare, accompanied with a blunt no without much thought.

after all, he's not the only one who came to recruit the white-haired genius. the volleyball, basketball, and softball clubs (even the cheerleading team, for some reason?) have all tried, to which he instantly shut down.

“why would i participate in sports? even walking is tiring to me,” is his simple reasoning every single time, without fail.

at some point, reo tries to bribe him with a brand new gaming console as a “customary gift”. not that there's anything customary about that, but you suppose rich people live in a different world than you common folks do (when you found out that reo arrives to school in a goddamn limousine, you've lost all interest in being more than acquaintances with someone as absurd as that).

however, that is when reo finally manages to elicit a reaction from nagi, a slight sheen in his eyes that made you immediately panic, dragging him away before he gives in and telling him accepting anything from mikage? i think the fuck not! (“why not?” “because we don’t want to get in debt by someone like him!” “oh, we don’t?” “yes, dummy! next thing you know, we keep ‘borrowing’ money from him and eventually when we can't pay it back, he ships us off to some remote island and makes us his slaves for the rest of our lives because we couldn't afford our debt!” “you watch too much horror movies, i think.”)

however, as irritating as one’s persistence could be, deep down you hope nagi accepts reo’s invite. you've always known about his underutilized potential, and how he himself is the only thing that's holding him back.

truly, a waste that is.

“i know that rich boy’s been really annoying about it, but why don't you try it out? even just for a little bit?” you ask nagi, having stayed behind during lunch in your classroom instead of heading to the crowded school cafeteria.

“don't wanna,” he mutters against his arms, head buried against the desk.

“why not? our teacher’s been hounding you for not being in a club, right?”

“i’ll just join the book club or something. now go away,” he says, probably trying to catch up on much needed rest, despite already sleeping through your morning classes.

“you slacker. just try it out so mikage stops bothering me too.”

nagi suddenly lifts his head up. “he’s bothering you?”

leaning your elbow on the desk nagi’s lying down on, you press your cheek against your palm as you snicker at his sudden mood change. “mhm. won't you save me, your one and only best friend? the one you swore to protect until the world collapses? me, an innocent, pure ethereal being who's cruelly subjected to harassment and—”

he breathes out a long exhale. you brace yourself, racking your brain as you try to think of more ways to persuade him (without including the promise of reo’s “prize” or whatever suspicious deals you're sure the heir is involved with).

however, in nagi’s perspective, it's not because he needed any more convincing, but because he can't believe he's actually willingly to participate in something so bothersome for someone's sake. “…fine.”

“wait, actually?! for real?” with your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, nagi almost snorts at your ridiculousness. almost.

“you're the one who kept telling me to go for it, so why’re ya surprised?”

his sleepy voice gets drowned out by your excited chattering. “wow, nagi seishiro is actually interested in something else other than napping and gaming? no way! noooo way!”

“it's annoying, but yeah.” he grimaces, regret already sinking in—but since he's doing it for you, he supposes it's alright. just this once, he can make an exception. “…you're coming with me, right?”

a pause. “um… no? unless you want me to be the token benchwarmer?”

“ah, fair.”

“yeah, yeah. besides, i’m already in debate club, so me joining you is out of the question.”

“not even as our manager?”

“nope.”

nagi visibly sulks, lips forming into his signature pout. cute. it almost looks like he's at a loss of what to do without you—maybe it’s a result of you and him being stuck together at the hip since middle school, and how he's grown dependent on you due to his lazy nature, but you're sure he'll survive on his own.

…probably.

“i’ll come watch your games though,” you quickly add in case he backtracks on his word, reaching over the desk and tousling his hair, messing it up even more. he doesn't complain like how he usually would, merely blinking his wide gray eyes at you. “i mean, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't support you?”

that seems enough for nagi. he straightens up, a hand running through his now disheveled white locks, peering at you with a newfound motivation. “better keep your eyes on me, ‘kay?”

you grin, nodding. “duh. goes without saying, loser.”

sometime after that, reo, nagi, and yourself have now fallen into some sort of routine: nagi now has practice on thursdays and fridays after school, but sometimes reo swings by unexpectedly during lunch on those days to discuss with nagi what their training plans would be after school (unable to wait until the end of the day, apparently). not that nagi actually listens, but he has come to a realization that it’d be too much work if he were to refuse him, so he just lets him do whatever he wants.

would it be foolish to think that reo would let up once he’s gotten what he wanted? if anything, his apparent interest grows even more, which only encourages the rumors that are recently circulating about you. girls still glare at you in jealousy, while guys sneak judgmental glances at you, but reo manages to clear up any misunderstandings using his natural charm and influence, so you're fine for the most part. how thoughtful. well, it's his fault in the first place anyway.

for some reason, you see him a lot more often than necessary.

…like right now, for instance.

when a flash of purple appears in your peripherals, you turn, met with the sight of reo’s handsome figure hovering by the doorway. the tall male is hanging rather stiffly in the middle of the entrance, as if unable to decide whether to come inside or not.

“mikage?” you decide to call him out. “what are you doing here?”

he flinches, akin to a deer in headlights. what's up with that reaction? is he not supposed to be here or…? “huh? well, i’m here for nagi, of course.”

“right.” you nod curtly. it's monday today; they don't even have practice until the next few days.

but even then, reo has picked the worst time to drop by, because nagi isn't even at school today. (surprise, surprise—he slept in. again.) just as you are about to bring that up, reo casually ambles over and pulls a seat back, sitting across you with a sheepish smile on his face.

by now, you've grown familiar with the scent of his cologne wafting in the air whenever he's nearby. it's a delicate yet expensive scent, fresh and woody, like musk with hints of apples and mint. a vast difference from nagi’s, whose smell is more down-to-earth, like fresh laundry and the breeze of early mornings.

other than the questioning glance you offer him, nothing happens for a few moments. reo opens his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing comes out, he reverts back to pursed lips and skittish glimpses. it's off-putting how he seems to struggle with striking up a conversation for once—you start to feel a bit awkward about the stretched silence, so you just shrug and continue eating from your bento. as long as he's not bothering you too much, you don't actually mind his company.

“want some?” noticing how you're the only one eating lunch, you absentmindedly bring up the chopsticks close to his mouth, urging him to take a bite out of your tamagoyaki.

that seems to finally snap reo out of his inner strife, his violet eyes widening as they flicker between you and the food, “y-you're feeding me…?”

ah, crap—you’re so used to feeding nagi that you didn't even think twice before bringing the neatly rolled omelette to his lips. before you can retract your hand though, reo quickly composes himself, enclosing his fingers on your forearm to prevent you from moving away. “okay, i guess,” he mutters shyly before taking a bite.

a slight relief fills you as you watch him accept your offer, though that quickly turns into nervousness. “well? how was it?” you ask, observing the purple-haired male chewing carefully with a finger on his chin.

“did you cook this?” reo returns with a question of his own, peering at you through his lashes.

“you didn’t answer my question…”

“hm. did you?”

“what, is my cooking not good enough for the great master mikage reo’s superior taste buds?” you roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance as your face warms at the fact that he's deliberately avoiding your questions. you half-expect him to spit out the food; now that you think about it, surely he wouldn't enjoy eating something so bland and second-rate—

“hmm, not sure. i might need another bite to fully understand the flavors.”

you blink dumbly at reo’s coyness. well, he doesn't seem to outright hate it, so that's better than you are initially expecting. when you push the bento closer to him, he only stares at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. you stare right back, muttering, “what is it?”

“uh…actually, i broke both of my hands. and my fingers too. all ten of them.” reo blurts out, simultaneously hiding his hands away from your view.

…what.

this is the second time you're at a loss for words because of reo. perplexed, you lean in, trying to take a peek behind his back. “your fingers seemed perfectly fine when you grabbed my arm.”

“well, a lot can happen in two seconds.”

“like…?”

“spontaneous functional impairment?”

i’ll show you a spontaneous functional impairment, you grumble under your breath. “i am not your maid.”

reo tilts his head to side, warmth radiating from the innocent smile plastered on his face. it's the same one he usually wears, the kind that makes one weak in the knees—one that you're fortunately immune to.

(at least you think so, anyway.)

“…if i paid you, would you be more inclined?”

“piss off, mikage.”

reo chuckles, airy and soft, and you find it disturbing how a mere sound can easily disarm your guard. that's just the kind of person he is, you guess, barely even having to try yet the influence he holds over anyone (regrettably including you, to a certain degree) is undeniable. you ponder why someone like him is even here in the first place; doesn't he have more important stuff to do?

“kidding, i'm kidding! it's delicious.”

but when he assures you and you watch as his eyes crinkle with amusement, you decide not to sweat the little details. he continues, “i mean it. i’d love to have more, if you're willing, of course.”

since hakuho high is a college prep school, your school’s soccer team is weak compared to the others, not to mention fairly new, established only recently by reo himself (thus making him captain, as if he couldn't be any more popular). it hasn't garnered much attention from its students—but since this is the first official match against another school, a pretty sizable crowd has filled the bleachers that friday afternoon, excitement and anticipation buzzing in the air.

on the way to the bleachers, you catch sight of your friend and his teammates warming up while the coach gathers them to hold his final group meeting prior to the game, most of them stretching their legs and some basking under the sunshine (and by some, you mean only nagi).

after the coach finishes saying his speech to the team, reo claps his hand against nagi’s back, making the latter wince. reo just hooks his arm around nagi’s shoulder, and you see his mouth moving and gesturing towards the direction of the bleachers when his purple eyes suddenly fall on you. sending reo a small wave, he waves back at you, albeit with more enthusiasm—which also made the girls surrounding you shriek. ah, right. you briefly think that you should start acting like you don’t know him in public, on the off chance that a crazed fan of his comes for your throat just for being involved with him.

nagi glances where reo’s line of sight is. you wave at him as well when your eyes meet, expecting him to just send one back in acknowledgment, but instead he starts jogging towards you. “you made it,” he breathes out once he's within earshot.

“i said i’d watch your game, right?” you playfully jab him on the arm, observing how his legs look way more toned than you’ve last seen. has he always been this fit? seems like all that training he begrudgingly went through has paid off. “lookin’ fresh in uniform, seishiro. sorry i couldn't make it to any practices though, i couldn't ditch my own club.”

nagi shrugs, feeling content since you still made it. he reaches into his pocket, fishing out his beloved device and handing it to you. “can you keep my phone with you? i forgot i had it in my pocket.”

after nagi gets back to his team, you end up sitting on the third row of the bleachers as you wait for the game to begin. you fiddle with the charm on his phone. he still has it attached (you make a mental note to ask him about it again later), and you notice how some of the colors of the black beads have faded. a cursory thought passes, where you wonder if it's due to age, or if he touched it too often that the oils from his fingertips have worn the surface off.

you're leaning more on the former hypothesis—you can’t imagine nagi getting sentimental over a handmade charm that’s mediocre at best. or anything at all, period.

a sudden bump on your shoulder causes you to break out of your thoughts. a deep voice hurriedly speaks out, “excuse m—”

“len?” out of all people, why is he sitting next to you?

you’ve barely seen your ex-boyfriend in the past three years. either he's good at hiding, or you're even less popular (or involved with anyone else who isn't nagi) than you think. to be honest, you've forgotten all about him, but you can still recognize his dark eyes and, annoyingly enough, even the scent of his cologne with just one moment of appraisal.

len looks at you, eyes widened and mouth agape, before he gets up and turns around, climbing up the stairs to find a different seat. you click your tongue, slightly ticked off that he ran away from you. again. okay, whatever.

just then, the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. reo gets the ball first touch, sneaking his way through defenders with his quick thinking and passes. you're impressed by his skill, but since this is the mikage reo we're talking about, you guess you should've expected it. the team moves accordingly, passing the ball back and forth between them, intensity already cranked up to the maximum so soon after it began.

well, mostly everyone is pumped up. nagi’s half-ass running makes you snicker, and you wonder if he's even going to do anything at all this match if his slouched, lethargic posture is anything to go by. but then you catch sight of his face when an opposing player comes up to him, his visage contorting from passive to mildly irritated. it's only a tiny change, hardly even noticeable, but since you've known him for so long you've gained a good understanding of these miniscule differences. you realize his opponent must have taunted him because now he's locked in, straightening up and dashing towards the penalty area.

for a pretty lax person, you wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to be vindictive when provoked. most of the time, he does it unintentionally, showing off his unparalleled genius with barely any effort. the ball comes flying toward him, and it almost lands a few inches behind him yet he reaches it perfectly, twisting his body to trap the ball and swiftly kicking it to the goal in one fluid motion.

not even a minute in, hakuho scores a goal, and the world abruptly stops for a second.

absolute silence falls on the field, rendering both the opposing team and the crowd too stunned to speak or even move, save for reo who just beams at the prodigious striker.

“LET’S GO, SEISHIRO!”

the crowd subsequently erupts with deafening applause and cheers the moment they break out of their stupor, jumping out of their seats and yelling out what was that? in wonder and amazement.

nagi looks up as he hears your voice so distinctly clear from the bleachers. sure, he might have been a tad more zealous about that first goal, but it's not like it was a hard one to pull off—though you and everyone else’s reaction says otherwise, so he must've done something cool.

…still, is any of that really necessary? nagi likes that you've made it to his first ever official match, but you look as if you're one step away from joining the cheerleading squad and be his personal cheerleader. he watches as you cup your hands around your mouth, grinning widely at him across the field, and he thinks that you've never changed at all since middle school. you're always too loud, too forward, too bothersome, too annoying—

but that makes you, you. he wouldn't want it any other way.

for the rest of the game, hakuho dominates the match thanks to him and reo. at some point, the white-haired striker vaguely remembers his captain telling him about some sort of a hat trick, and that it was a really difficult move to pull off (not really) so he tries doing that just to show off a little. i mean, it's my debut, and you're watching, he reasons.

it’s over before he knows it, the score being an impressive 7-0. after the referee blows the whistle and the game ends, everyone explodes into cheers once again, nagi’s teammates huddling over, some jumping on his back and some even lifting him up.

“nagi!” reo cries out. “wow! i've never seen you worked that hard bef— wait, where are you going?”

when nagi glances towards the bleachers again, he sees you pushing past the other students, nearly hopping over them so you can get to the field, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and hype. he shrugs off his teammate's arms around him, making a beeline towards you. he doesn't even realize what he's doing, lured by the excitement and passion emanating from your presence.

“hey, what are you doing all the way h—”

“SEISHIRO, HELLO? that was so incredible, what the hell was that?!” you exclaim, launching yourself at him. luckily, he catches you just in time…unluckily, he underestimates your exhilaration, your tackle causing both you toppling down on the grass with you landing on top of him as he lets out an oof– as his back hits the grass. “you crazy bastard. i always knew you had it in you!”

from the corner of his eye, he sees reo’s head whipped in your direction, watching the two of you intently, but at the moment none of that matters. nagi still isn’t too good at reading people's emotions, but when it's displayed so clearly before him, your earnest gaze and a smile impossibly wide that your face must've hurt to hold that for so long, he realizes you make it easy for him to understand it this time with no room for any alternative perception.

strands of your hair fall against his face as you hover above him, and the afternoon sun is just about to set, creating a warm halo against your form, and nagi thinks you look as radiant as ever.

taglist: @yoimiya-lover @i2innie

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE i got so busy irl 😔 taglist is open! just comment ^_^ (if im unable/forgot to tag you, pls lmk!!)

#blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x you

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vhstown · 6 months

Text

ain't no love; pt. 2

"ain't no love in the heart of town"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 →

chapter summary: [MILES POV] Miles thinks there's something sinister going on at Visions. But first, he has to ask you out — to a job fair.

content/warnings: mentions of food/hunger, implied kidnapping, use of drugs (not by miles or reader) and there are some word meanings at the end!

word count: 4.7k

a/n: never thought id make it this far. 2/4 yo! thank you @qiupachups for proofreading 🙏 my g fr

“Take your headphones out.”

“~Ain’t no love… in the hear–”

Miles slipped his earbud out before putting his hand into his pocket again; it’d go back in once he left the counsellor’s office anyhow. First, he had to deal with the woman in front of him — Ms. Weber, the woman he’d been avoiding all week.

“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?” The woman peered at him through her red-framed glasses. Her disapproving gaze was one Miles was yet to get used to.

“Had to uh, see a teacher.” Her gaze became more disbelieving than disapproving. It was true, though, his calc teacher wasn’t the only faculty member he seemed to be annoying today.

“Right, and they didn’t tell you to take out your headphones?” The woman leaned over on her desk much like Mr. Wellston had, except it actually had the intended effect, like he was talking to his mother; Miles fumbled a bit with the earbud in his pocket. “We need to discuss your extracurriculars.”

“Do I need extracurriculars? I mean, I kinda already got some.”

“Such as?”

“An extra calc class. And Spanish catch-up. And English—”

“Something that isn’t to do with your academics, Miles — hence extra-curricular. College applications are right around the corner.”

“I’m doin’ fine right now,” he shrugged. Weber didn’t look very impressed.

“If you wanna go out of state, "fine" isn’t enough. You’re not the only kid applying.”

“Not like I said that.” He leaned back, making his chair creak loudly.

Talking to Ms. Weber felt like a chore. Sure, she had his best interest at heart, but she’d never know the half of it. His cooperativeness was running thin as the ache in his muscles worsened — if only Aaron didn’t make him get so serious all of a sudden. Miles couldn't listen to everyone, he guessed.

The woman leaned forward, tilting her head, maybe for emphasis. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Miles.”

Leaning back wasn’t helping with the soreness, or Ms. Weber. “Not if there was no cake to begin with.”

She let out a breath, a more civil version of the loud sigh building up in Miles’ lungs. “How about this? You try your hand at some volunteering.”

“Volunteering?” He was already sure that he wouldn’t bother. He did plenty volunteering already — if illegal vigilantism counted.

“There’s a careers fair for freshmen soon. It’d look good on your application if you helped to organise.”

“Aren’t teachers supposed to do that?”

“I’m right in front of you.” Her tone was drier than his.

“You’re just a counsellor though—” Miles’ lips pressed together, Ms. Weber’s eyes narrowing at him. He didn’t want the same fate that guy had calling his mom “just a nurse”, but it came out before he could stop himself.

“The week after winter break,” she continued. Being a counsellor was less stressful than a nurse, it seemed.

Winter break was after this week — that was when he’d finally stop training for a little while. The week after was the job fair, and…

“So it’s just me that’s doin’ it?”

The counsellor contemplated for a moment, her own lips pursing. “You could ask someone to do it with you. One of your friends, maybe.”

Like he had one of those.

“Huh? What’d you say? Someone’s waiting? You got friends?”

“Miles, c’mon.”

Maybe he did.

“Yeah, fine — I’ll do it,” he muttered. Weber’s expression relaxed, as much as it could with that gruff air still about her.

“Okay, good. Just bring your friend here after school.” Miles simply nodded — now with another thing to think about. “You can go back to lunch.”

He got out of the chair, his hand already on the door handle before Weber spoke again.

“Well done on coming in, by the way.” Miles turned back for a moment, mumbling something like a thanks. He tried not to feel weird about the odd sincerity of her words as he walked through the hallways.

“~Ain’t no love, and in the heart of the city…”

Miles had a lot to think about in general, but only about 20 minutes to think about what he was going to say to you. He also thought about what he was going to eat later — maybe his mom made something. He hoped his uncle didn’t finish the stew. At least his stomach didn’t grumble… Miles tried not to smile, even if nobody was watching.

Though he wanted to talk to you outside of class, he never really had any excuse. The only reason he’d talked to you at all was because that Rafa asshole decided bothering Mrs. Hernandéz wasn’t enough. Miles wasn’t stupid, but Rafael had drawn a massive red target on his own back. It was a miracle that you decided to say something, for Miles and Rafael.

A little height difference wouldn’t make his ankles any harder to break. He half-shook away the thought. No need to get expelled when he had to be here for long enough to confirm his suspicions.

“He went missing, and now he’s teaching calculus at Visions?”

“Yup.”

“That’s my high school.”

“…Jeff did us a service with these files, huh man?”

And so Miles had gone to Mr. Wellston’s classroom with you. It only left him with more questions.

Wellston almost seemed askance when you two walked in together — he didn’t even mention Miles’ earbud. The man was reluctant to let Miles take the extra class with you, for some reason, but Miles could play dumb when he needed to. Something about the whole arrangement was off to him — like it had set off a sixth sense Miles didn’t have.

Really and truly, you were just some kid from his class that happened to be caught up in all of this. If he had a reason, he’d tell you to not go to that stupid class in the first place. He was probably a better tutor anyway — Wellston didn’t seem like the teacher type anyway.

But he was just some kid from your class too — Miles Morales. Gonzalo Morales, though he doubted you knew, or cared. Probably the only person who knew his middle name was his mom; she was always talking about it, his name — to be proud. He had his mother’s last name for a reason, one he never knew about until Aaron told him: keeping him away from crime — his dad’s side. If only she knew what he was up to now.

If only his dad knew what he was up to now.

Miles Gonzalo Morales — whoever that was, was sweating a little at the moment. That was walking quickly, not because he had to figure out what to say in the next 10 seconds. Talking to you? No big deal. He’d done it before… once.

Miles had talked to you once. This past week, all he’d learnt about you was your first name and the fact that you sucked at using your calculator.

Hunched over a textbook with a crumpled up juice box in your hand, Miles spotted you sitting by yourself in the corner of the cafeteria. It’d be an easy conversation: he could bring up the textbook and talk to you alone. The pang of embarrassment that shot through him said otherwise. You looked like you did in Spanish, quiet, focused, a little stressed — like the sketch of you that was crumpled up in his blazer pocket. In the sketch, you were facing away. Right now, your eyes were on him. Mier— (Shi—)

“Can you move?” Miles hastily stepped away, realising he was blocking the line. He tried not to catch the girl’s annoyed stare, and the many others, holding back his grimace and heading for your table.

He sat opposite you; the seat was cold, and he wished he’d brought his jacket. What if it looked like he was shaking, or something? This was stupid. It wasn’t that cold. Just ask, dumbass.

“Hey uh, pana.” Your eyes were on his again, and he tried to smile. “You studyin’?”.

“Trying to.” Gaze trailing back to the textbook, you closed it with a sigh he could only imagine with his music playing in-between the cafeteria noise.

The cover read “AP CALCULUS BC: 1st Edition” — he knew there were at least ten revisions. Maybe you liked collecting old textbooks like he did old comics — that’d be stupid.

“Still don’t know how you got six.” He took out his earphone, before realising what you meant.

“Litres per hour,” he corrected, immediately feeling like punching himself for it. “Could explain it… if you want.” The cold plastic cafeteria bench dug into his palm as his grip on it tightened. Miles Morales — Brooklyn’s only vigilante, and now an AP Calc tutor

“Uh, sure.” You took out a pencil, which clattered far too loudly on the table. He watched you grit your teeth at the sound before giving him an expectant, somewhat unsure look. Miles took the pencil in his hand and started scribbling in the back page of the textbook, with you watching intently.

It was slightly warm, and wrote nicely — would probably draw nicely too. Not important. Just solve the damn thing.

“Why does this equal to the derivative, though?” you interrupted, pointing at the garble of letters and numbers. He had to hold back a sigh, like he wasn’t the one to offer you help. If there’s one thing he didn’t get from his mom, that was his patience — no wonder she was a nurse and he wasn’t a tutor.

“Cause if you take g of x as like, let’s say v or sumn’…” he murmured, brows knitting together as he scribbled out a couple more lines on the side. Rewriting the equation, he glanced at you occasionally, hoping you were getting it.

“Wait, wait, so…”

A flash of realisation came over your face before you abruptly took the pencil from his hand, making his jaw clench as your hand brushed his. You continued the line of working, explaining it to yourself while Miles gave quiet “yeah”s and nods.

“Then all of that should equal six.” The pencil dropped with a quiet thud, rolling onto the inside of the textbook. “Litres per hour,” you added quickly, giving him a meek smile.

“…Yeah. You got it.” Miles could only hold your gaze for a moment, until the eagerness in your eyes had dissipated, and the two of you were left staring at each other. The bend of his knees practically hooked around the seat as he reeled back, realising he’d been leaning over a little too close.

Miles cleared his throat, pushing the textbook back towards you. “You get it now?”

“Yeah.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up; maybe you were a little proud of yourself. All you needed was a little guidance — and he was able to make you understand. He smiled — mentally, of course. Miles Morales — best AP Calc tutor in Brookly—

“Did you need something?”

“Uh, yeah actually, uh…”

Uhhhhhh…

“Uh…?” you repeated.

Miles held his breath; maybe some survival instinct would force him to spit it out. How was he supposed to say this?

“You free? In a couple weeks?”

“…Huh?” Your eyes widened. The cafeteria seemed to go silent.

Definitely not like that.

“Uh, like, for a… volunteer thing,” he corrected, hastily. The way he grit his teeth made his voice sound funny. Nice going, Morales. “I’m doing it. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Oh, um…” Your eyes narrowed in thought, as Miles recovered from un-asking you out. “Maybe? What’s it for?”

“Some job fair — for freshmen.” Your expression turned uncertain. Miles bit the inside of his lip so hard he thought he might split it

“Um…” The way your eyes narrowed was making doubt pool in his stomach. “You know what? Yeah, sure.”

“Really?” Yes, you idiot. “I mean, uh cool.”

“Cool…”

The cleaners were starting to wipe away at the tables. No wonder it seemed so silent — most people had left. “So what do I have to do?” you

“You gotta go to the counsellor’s office after school. We’re gonna uh, help organise and stuff.” He swallowed dry. As much as he didn’t want to be the kid that was always in the counsellor’s office, it wasn’t like he could avoid it. You didn’t ever mention it, but it’s not like anyone did outright.

“Okay,” you nodded simply, letting out a sigh and throwing the ancient textbook into your bag. Miles stood up after you, flexing his sore, bench-marked hand.

“Are you sure you wanna go to that calc class?” you asked, making him look up.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice — but you didn’t know that. “If you go to that fair.”

You smiled again, probably at the situation — maybe at him.

“Deal. See you Friday.” You waved, and Miles let out a sigh as you walked away.

Being a vigilante was way easier than talking to people.

“~When you were mine, oh I was feeling so good…”

The rest of the day dragged on with the soft kick of bass and the hum of a guitar in his ear. The only thing Miles could think about was the fact that he had to meet you after school. The fact that you said yes surprised him. You were classmates, acquaintances at most — maybe you could actually live up to the “pana” thing.

“~Cause your love lit up, the whole neighbourhood…”

“Miles — question eight?” Miles lifted his head from the desk, staring at the question sheet for a moment.

“Uh… forty two thousand,” he guessed, eyes narrowing at Ms. Calleros in a mix of doubt and hope.

“Forty two thousand what?”

“Six… Litres per hour.”

“Lit— Joules,” he stuttered out.

“…Yeah. You got it.”

Damn it.

RIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIING! Miles was thinking about you too much, and thinking about AP Physics too little.

“Remember your homework due next week!” his teacher called out as everyone scrambled to pack up and leave.

Miles let himself sigh; it was one of many he wanted to let out today. He drew his hand away from the ear with his earbud in. At the same time, he locked eyes with his teacher. Mierda. (Shit.)

She gestured for him to come to her desk with a not-so entertained look on her face. Nothing new, he supposed.

“You know you can’t have your headphones in during class,” she started, glancing at his palm with the earbud in it.

It was faintly murmuring. Miles just awkwardly pressed the pause button.

“I know.”

“There seems to be a lot you know and don’t put into practice, Miles.” It was like every teacher was out to get him. Guess he wasn’t being as sneaky about the music as he thought.

“Sorry,” he offered, half-heartedly. Might as well get this over with.

“What were you listening to?” she asked, eyebrow lightly raised. “Apart from my lesson.”

“Uh… don’t know the name.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s been playing all class.” And since lunch — he hadn’t bothered to turn it off. He didn’t know it was that loud, though.

“I gotta to go to the counsellor’s office…” Miles said in a way that sounded more like a question. He pointed to the door like it would help.

“And I have to go to a meeting, but here I am.” She readjusted her glasses, looking at him curiously — maybe more knowingly.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

“Nah. Just tired today,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was an unconvincing beat of silence, before she unfolded her arms.

“…Well, I hope you feel more energetic soon.” Miles just nodded, making his way to the door.

Gracias a Dios… (Thank God.) She was leaving him alone.

“Oh, and good job on the quiz — one of the highest in this class.” Miles bit back the fleeting warmth in his cheeks, digging his hands further into his pockets.

“Thanks.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t the Prowler all the time. Right know, he was just a kid: a kid who listened to his uncle’s favourite tracks and lived in a box with his mom in the city he called home — a city that was falling apart day by day.

“Miles!” That kid. That’s who he was — Miles Morales. And you were just you, jogging right behind him.

Stealing a glance of your expression — and hopefully nothing more — he kept ahead of you as the two of you walked to the counsellors office. Neither of you had anything to say, but Miles had so much to think about. You agreed to do the fair with him; maybe he shouldn’t have asked — he wasn’t here to make friends, after all. But you were here now, and he didn’t hesitate when he knocked on the door to the counsellors office.

“Come in!”

There was a screech of chairs as you two sat opposite the guidance counsellor, who was tapping away at her keyboard as usual. Miles’ eyes met yours for a brief second, and when you gave him a smile, he spent so long debating on whether or not to return it with his own that Ms. Weber had already placed a stack of freshly-printed papers on her desk.

“Firstly, you’re going to have to post these around school.” Miles looked at the obnoxiously modern and colourful posters, with “FRESHMAN CAREERS FAIR” in a dull font that was meant to look modern. He could probably make a better version himself, but he’d rather not spend any more time on the fair than he had to.

“I have a question,” you interrupted, straining to try and be polite. “Is this something I can put on my college application?”

“I’d assume so, since your friend is doing it for his,” Ms. Weber replied, glancing unassumingly at Miles through her red-framed glasses.

Like I wasn’t forced to. But you weren’t forced to. You chose to do this — for your… college application. Right.

“Okay, got it.” You nodded, letting Weber continue.

“Secondly, there’s a list of start-ups that will be here on the day. You should familiarise yourselves with them — you could find a useful connection.” Weber put a white piece of paper with some writing on top of the stack of posters.

“The ones that are highlighted are places we haven’t contacted yet.” There were only a few different businesses marked in yellow, one of which had “OSCORP” written next to it.

“Oscorp?” You seemed to notice too. Miles could only narrow his eyes.

“Their junior apprenticeship program starts soon” Weber explained, looking at Miles for a moment. “Maybe you should apply — especially you, Morales.”

Like Miles would ever work for Oscorp. They were the reason that his mom’s hospital was so underfunded. Unfortunately for him, he was supposed to pay them a visit anyway, regardless of how much he wanted to get into that tech school out of state.

“The fair’s going to be the Tuesday after winter break. Don’t forget.” She was looking more at Miles than you.

“Got it… Thank you, Ms…?” you trailed off, giving her a hopeful look.

She tapped sharply at the nameplate propped up on her desk. “Weber.”

“Ms. Weber,” you mirrored, nodding again and offering an awkward smile. “Thank you — we’ll try our best.

The two of you stepped out of the office, glancing at each other for a moment too long as you made it a couple of metres from the door.

“So uh…” you started. “Could I get your number?” …Huh?!

“Uh, I mean, like, so we can stay in contact,” you backtracked, trying not to grimace. “I mean, in case we need to talk over winter break.” He almost mirrored your grimace before nodding.

“Yeah, here.” Miles handed you his phone, careful to avoid brushing your hand this time before taking yours. He typed in his number, and then “Miles M.”

When he got his phone back, all you’d put in was your number. Without thinking, he typed in four letters: Pana. He slipped his phone in his pocket before he could question himself.

An extra class on Friday — with his pana. Miles could only rub his temples at the thought.

This whole school thing had gone farther than he’d hoped.

“As you exit, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the—”

Miles held back a grunt as people shoved past to leave the train carriage, eyes searching for you as he was practically being bounced around. If it wasn’t for Mr. Wellston’s useless rambling, he wouldn’t be going home on a Friday during rush hour, let alone on the last day before winter break.

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.”

The top of your backpack peeked out and just as quickly disappeared as someone in office wear, and an enormous jacket, ploughed through right before the doors closed; he could hear your stumble.

“Cabrón… (Asshole…)” Miles muttered under his breath.

Truthfully, he’d passed his stop ages ago, but he wasn’t about to let you go home alone this late. He hadn’t even been this far down the line before, but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Every night since you two went to the counsellor’s office, he’d been up, slinking through Brooklyn in his Prowler suit. People like you wouldn’t know, of course, but both Miles and his Uncle were picking up on things. With those dusty old police reports, the slew of missing people didn’t seem like much of a coincidence — and Miles didn’t think this “class” was one either.

In fact, Wellston himself didn’t seem like someone who was right to teach AP Calc. He certainly didn’t seem like the teacher type, and apart from that first class Miles had attended, all he really gave at this point were packs to do. And in that extra class of his, it was the exact same thing — except for that fact that he seemed to do everything to keep the two of you there.

“Are you sure you get it?” — “How did you get that number?” — “Where’s your calculator, Morales?”. Miles got you two out of there as fast as possible. At one point, he’d even written answers on your worksheet while Wellston wasn’t paying attention.

It was a hunch at most, but he’d always take his dad’s advice in stride, no matter how often he used to say it.

“Trust your gut, Miles.”

He wasn’t being over-protective, he was being cautious—

“What’s your problem, man?” Miles’ core tensed — like he’d done when training. He looked over to see you, and a total stranger.

“You got a place to be, huh? Can’t look where you’re goin’?”

Miles squeezed through a blockade of people to see you just standing there, unable to reply as a man blew up at you for seemingly no reason. The man’s words were getting progressively worse, his voice louder and his face so close to yours it made Miles cringe. The man’s eyes seemed to bulge out, but he wasn’t looking at you — or anything, really. He was clearly on drugs.

Miles was meant to get groceries for his mom. He kissed his teeth at the memory. Damn Wellston — and this guy.

The carriage was pretty much empty, being at the last few stops. Of course nobody cared when it came to stuff like this. Miles watched the veins in the man’s neck tighten, and his teeth were gritted together so hard it hurt to look at. He stopped his fist from clenching — he’d rather not start a fight with a junkie.

“Oy.” He put his hand on your shoulder, avoiding the man’s eyes. “Let’s get off here.”

“Wh—”

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.” You two were out in about a second before the doors shut between you and the man, now violently knocking against the glass.

Holding onto your jacket, Miles kept you from falling as the train zipped past, the junkie long gone. He let out a sigh, eyes squeezing shut. This train station was stupidly bright.

“What was that for?” you asked, brows knitting together. “We could’ve just, I dunno, walked to a different carriage.”

“You serious?”

“The next train’s in…” Both of your eyes went to the screen, and you frowned. “20 minutes, Miles.”

“Well you would’ve had exactly zero minutes if that guy tried something.”

“Okay, that’s too far. There were other people—”

“They wouldn’t have done shit.” His annoyance only grew, and he couldn’t hold back when you were looking at him like that. “Where do you live? Cause it’s not Brooklyn — nobody gives a damn here.”

People were starting to look at you. “Are you gonna let go of my arm or what?”

Miles’ hand fell from your shoulder. He bit the inside of his cheek, his own heartbeat only muffled by the sound of the train approaching on the other platform.

“Do you really live that far?”

“Yes?” You said, almost incredulously. “Like, two stations away from here.”

“Then we’re walking.”

Your head snapped back to look at him. “Seriously?”

“You want me to leave you here?”

It came out more like a threat than a question. The realisation made Miles’ eye twitch, but that only served to make him look more pissed.

“Go on,” you replied, your expression lacking any conviction.

“Cabezón…” he muttered to himself, before turning to walk to the exit.

“What was that?”

Miles kept walking, and the sound of your footsteps a couple seconds later made him breath a sigh of relief. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he was almost certain someone was watching you back there.

When you both got to the gates, he waited before pulling you through the emergency exit with him. Despite your protest, you followed him through it, blending into the crowd of people leaving and entering the station. Metro cards were a waste of money anyway.

It was a long, silent and somewhat unsettling walk. Miles had been through every corner of Brooklyn, and right here was about where he’d start looking behind his back, even as the Prowler. For some reason, you just had to live a light year away from school and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in this damned concrete jungle.

Despite the regret building in his stomach from how he’d talked to you, he was forcing more rational concerns into his head: the turns you were taking, the people they passed, how close he should stay to you. All of it was habitual at this point, but he couldn’t risk being caught off-guard, especially when every adult man you passed was starting to look a bit too much like Wellston. If you were closer, maybe he could’ve kept an arm around you, or something. Good thing his mom wasn’t here to beat his ass for thinking like an idiot.

Trying not to imagine his mom’s voice, Miles kept just a few inches behind you, right until you reached the front door.

“…Thanks.” He couldn’t read your expression — when was the last time he overthought something?

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was another beat of silence, interrupted only by the “beep!” of your electronic key fob at the door.

“See you.” Your voice echoed through the hall, followed by footsteps as the door slowly shut in front of him. “Be safe.”

Like he needed to be told that. “…You too.”

Miles lingered by the door, looking at you for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. Almost immediately after, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket — Uncle Aaron.

42nd street

Special delivery for your ma

A supply interception — his mom’s hospital was probably short by now. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away the exhaustion before replying.

omw Delivered

His day hadn’t ended yet — not by a long shot. The Prowler was always on the clock.

pana = casual term used to refer to friends, means "buddy" or "pal" (used in puerto rico, venezuela etc)

cabezón = means "stubborn" or "big-headed"

from here on out it's just straight up drafting cause i wrote part 1 and 2 ages ago but i don't have anything for part 3 and 4 so !!!!

upload schedule if you didn't know is gonna be: this series one week and then a random one shot the next week (so hopefully ill post part 3 in around 2 weeks? im DROWNING in school work atm so don't hope too hard...) anyways have a good one ^^

reblogs appreciated as always <3 go back to the series masterlist here or go to my atsv masterlist here!

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles g #42!miles #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

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mathanlin · 9 months

Text

Hero AU where school counselor!Phil has to deal with… interesting students.

Namely, the three boys he sees constantly bickering in the hallways.

And slamming cars into each other on the news.

Ridiculously, none of them know who the others are.

But Phil notices the *moment* new young vigilantes start popping up. The trio’s dropping grades, spotty attendance, and injuries only confirm it.

Or, y’know. Tommy mumbling, “What would you do if you were a hero?”

Phil helps in the least obvious ways he can.

Modifying their grades to be a bit less suspicious, leaving out ice packs by his office door (easy to steal), writing late passes without a bit of resistance.

But he can only be so subtle.

“So, Red.”

Tommy’s head jerks up.

Phil almost laughs. “You’ve heard of him, huh? I figure he’s your favorite.”

Tommy shifts awkwardly in his chair — readjusting the wound Phil knows lies beneath his sweater. “Better than the fuckin’ Blade.”

Techno. Honors student. Flawless GPA. Volunteer. And vigilante.

Far closer to a villain.

“If only I could give the Blade a lecture,” Phil says, unable to stop a chuckle, and barely managing to not say, *You two have to stop beating the shit out of each other.*

Eventually, Phil gives up on subtlety & calls them all down to his office.

“So. I heard you’ve been getting into fights.”

Wilbur, drama kid — or Siren, smooth-tongued — is the first to act, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, sir?”

Then Techno. “Mr. Watson, I would *never.*”

“Then what’s that?”

Phil nods to the bruise beneath Techno’s turtleneck — from a hit Siren landed. Then, to Wilbur’s knuckles, ever so slightly battered.

And neither seem to notice a thing.

Phil pinches his brow, sighing.

“Alright. Then Tommy. Care to explain the state of your shoes?” (Burnt, melted from running through rubble the Blade had created.)

*There* it is. Techno frowns, leaning back to peek — and Tommy quickly tucks his feet beneath the chair.

“Nothing.”

“Where were you all last night?”

Every single kid tenses.

And starts rambling out excuses.

“I was— studying, of course—”

“Well, *I* was trying to get ice cream, and that bitch the Blade showed up—”

“Bitch?” Techno cries before catching himself. “I think you mean *Red* and *Siren*—”

“What the fuck?” Wilbur splutters. “Siren was trying to calm those two fuckers down—”

“Boys,” Phil says. “Look. All three of those heroes would be better *together,* right? Not fighting, not hurting each other?”

“Maybe,” Tommy finally mumbles, toeing at the floor, “but… why are we talking about heroes?”

Phil tips back in his chair, face in hands.

“Come on. Someone figure it out.”

Silence.

Phil groans. “Wilbur, you quit band two months ago. Techno, Tommy, who showed up two months ago?”

More silence.

“Uhh… I don’t know.”

“Techno,” Phil says, almost desperate. “You tutor Tommy, right? What happens after he disappears from your lessons?”

“I… go home,” Techno lies.

Phil lets out an exasperated sigh. “No, you go where *he* goes. And where’s that?”

Tommy’s eyes start to narrow.

“You like Greek shit. Like… the Blade,” he says quietly, staring at Techno. Then, at Wilbur. “And *you’re* a pretentious bastard. Like *Siren.*”

Phil raises an eyebrow, fighting a smile.

“And you’re a little shit,” Wilbur snaps, then— pales. “Like… Red?”

“*There* we go,” Phil says, letting out a sigh of relief. “Now, I have a plan. If you three work together, I truly believe that—”

It’s a shame Phil’s office is so tiny.

There’s no room for three vigilantes to sufficiently beat the shit out of each other.

Just the idea of the three of them curled up at Phil’s, working on homework before heading off to fight crime (together, for once).

Phil being their “man in the chair” (even if he directs them to safer areas, too worried for anything more).

And of course, the best (worst?) part of being a school counselor — the actual *counseling.*

Except it’s not about what classes to take, or bullies to avoid.

It’s holding Wilbur as he sobs after killing his first villain to protect his brothers. (Because that’s what they are, now).

It’s comforting Techno as he fails his first class, too busy with heroics to focus or study.

It’s reassuring Tommy when his brothers get hurt, always ready to defend their youngest.

And it’s crying like a father when they graduate.

It’s *loving* them like a father, his home always open to them, filled with medical supplies and bedrooms for each kid, newpaper clippings pinned proudly on the fridge.

There’s a reason the city’s strongest trio of vigilantes always protect one specific man.

#mcyt #dsmp #dsmp au #sbi #sbi au #threadfic #technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza

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piratefishmama · 9 months

Text

Fake It 'Till You Make It | Part 7

“Are you sure we’re ready for this?” Eddie didn’t feel ready for it. Although they’d definitely spent the better half of the morning and a little of the afternoon getting used to kissing, something Eddie would remember for the rest of his life and maybe thank Dustin for at a later date, and maybe curse him a little for because Steve wouldn’t take it any further than kissing.

Dude had some impressive self-control. No handsy behaviour, no leading, didn’t even follow when Eddie tried subtly nudging it. They had a goal in mind, and he wasn’t getting side tracked for anything.

Eddie might have felt self-conscious about that, had he not kept feeling Steve’s grin against his lips whenever he tried, or those little warning nips which both told him to stay on track and fed the mischievous little gremlin that was his brain. He was growing his confidence!

Steve was helping him be confident!

“We’ve gotta be, sooner we get this over with, the better.” They were sat in his BMW in the Harrington driveway, engine off, psyching themselves up. Steve climbed out of the car,

Eddie following shortly after with a grumbled “Better for who exactly?”

Steve wished he had an answer for that. But the longer he sat with the idea that they had to reveal this ‘relationship’ to his parents, the more daunting it became. It’d be fine. He knew it’d be fine, the worst case scenario was that they wouldn’t like Eddie, okay no worst case scenario was that their behaviours had been performative in an attempt to call his bluff, but that was looking less and less likely.

They could just… not like him. Not think him good enough. Judge his clothes, his hair, his social class, they could be mean, out of touch rich people so easily. But at least if they got this over with quickly, he’d know if it’d work.

“…The plan I guess. If they don’t like you then—”

“Jobs off?” At least Eddie could say he’d gotten to make out with Steve Harrington, to approximately zero people because who could he brag about that with? It was a personal victory for himself.

“Mmhm... that’s ok right?” Slowly they made for the door.

“Sure, no harm no foul, I got to make-out with Steve Harrington and I’d get to go back to bed, I’m calling that a win.” He didn’t care if it went to Steve’s ego, and from the smile lighting up his face it did a little, he got to make out with Steve Harrington. “Let’s get this over with, Stevie.” He could handle a little rich person judgement if they didn’t like him.

His whole shtick was aiming for parents to not like him, he wasn’t made of glass. He could handle it. And as such, he gave Steve’s perfect ass a light smack because honestly when else was he going to get the chance to do that, and went off in front headed for the big, over the top red double door entry.

Steve, only momentarily stunned by the smack, shook himself out of it and jogged to catch up, hissing a harried “wait up, Eddie!” That only served to earn an over the shoulder grin from his ‘boyfriend’ before he was turning and walking backwards, amusement dimpling his cheeks and lighting up his face.

He really was attractive, wasn’t he? Not a thought Steve figured he’d be having at random but... it wasn’t unwelcome. Eddie was... pretty. Pretty and fun.

Maybe the kids were right, maybe Eddie was worth the effort to get to know.

So it wasn’t as much of a surprise as maybe it should have been that... he actually really hoped they would like him.

Wasn’t that an interesting thought?

“Okay just... be—”

“-haaaave? Be pleasant? Beeee polite?” Be anything but himsel—

“Yourself Eddie. Be yourself.” Oh. His surprised must have showed because instead of opening the front door, Steve paused and decided in a moment of sheer ‘fuck it’ cupped Eddie’s cheeks and just held his face. “Be yourself... you’re not unlikeable, you’re charming, and funny, and goofy, and they’re going to like you” God he hoped so. His thumb caressed the soft, warm cushion of Eddie’s cheeks taking in those big brown doe eyes so wide, full of surprise “so just be yourself, alright?”

“... Kiss for good luck?” Maybe it was just a bid to lessen the tension, the feelings bubbling within from being touched so gently, but it worked about as efficiently as a chocolate fireguard, because Steve kissed him.

It was soft, and chaste, quick so the neighbours wouldn’t see, but it chased any nerves Eddie might have had right out the metaphorical window. Didn’t help the feelings from erupting like goddamn Vesuvius but, the nerves vanished.

“It’s gonna be okay” it’d be okay. “Walk behind me alright? I’ll introduce you and we’ll riff from there” they were doing this. He was about to out himself to two complete wild card strangers in shitsville Indiana.

It’d be okay, it’d be okay. It’d be okay.

“Okay... promise me they’re not gonna turn on me, like... they can hate me but...” hurting him was... a real risk.

“Eddie... I’m with you. Okay? They turn on you... I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Even though they’re your parents?”

Steve tucked a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear and offered him a warm, comforting smile “I’ll side with you long before I side with them, I swear. They wanna get to you, they’d have to go through me.” He was both younger and stronger than his parents. They tried anything and he wouldn’t hesitate to get between them. “And trust me, they wouldn’t be able to.”

Steve may not have been known for winning fights but... he was still pretty damn big, could definitely overpower a couple of older rich people. “...Okay.” He’d be safe. Steve would protect him.

He could be brave.

Steve opened the door and stepped inside, Eddie following behind him trying not to think too hard about how the last time he’d been there it’d been at night and it’d been heaving with teenagers being stupid.

There’d been alcohol, he’d been selling drugs, it looked different during the day.

“Steven?! Is that you?!” Came a feminine voice from somewhere within. Steve seemed to know where though, because his hand found Eddie’s, lacing their fingers together to gently tug him in that direction until they reached the dining room door where Steve let him go to make himself known

“Yeah it’s me, is Dad home?” Eddie remained out of sight as instructed, feeling the nerves bubble in his gut again, kind of missed Steve’s hand around his, it felt nice.

“He’s in the living room with me, is something wrong?” She sounded pleasant, inquisitive, Eddie had never met Lynda Harrington, never seen her before in his life, not even photos as the house didn’t seem to have them.

The Harrington’s didn’t like clutter.

They could do this. They had their bare bones story, they were comfortable kissing, and apparently holding hands was easy too, definitely didn’t make his chest do a wibbly little thing. Didn’t make his chest do that at all. Steve had him wait just to the side of the doorway as he entered, definitely the bravest man Eddie had ever met in his entire goddamn life.

Didn’t know a single person capable of a more ballsy move than what Steve Harrington was about to do.

Even if the roles were reversed and he was telling Wayne about Steve it still wouldn’t be as ballsy! Steve was a catch, it’d be like the Jester had bagged the King. The other way round… Steve was clearly way out of his league.

“Nothing wrong, no. I uh… I wanted to talk to you about something.” Eddie leaned back against the wall, let the flat surface of it ground him as he listened. It’d be okay. He’d be okay. “You know how I’ve been… less than… enthused, about all the… ehem, potential people you’ve been trying to introduce me to?”

“How can we forget? Speaking of which, Heather, you know Heather, the Holloway’s daughter?” Eddie stuffed the bend of his thumb into his mouth to stop himself from making a noise, yeah, good luck with Heather, she was busy with Megan.

“Heh, yeah, yeah I know Heather, we got our life guard certification together, but she’s irrelevant, not—not irrelevant I don’t mean it like that” god what were their facial expressions like if Steve was stumbling so much “she’s… not—okay, heh, start over. The reason that I’ve been against all this is… well you know how I said I’m… I’m bisexual?” Eddie assumed at least one of them nodded during the brief pause “w-well, I’m… already seeing someone. And I have been for a few weeks now…”

“What?! Steven! Why didn’t you tell me, heavens now I have to cancel with—”

“With whom, mom?” Maybe Steve’s fears weren’t as unfounded as some might have thought them to be.

“…Nobody. Go on.”

“Well… I didn’t tell you, because… he… was nervous about being known, which y’know, fair, he doesn’t know you, it could be dangerous for him, frankly I didn’t even know you’d be totally okay with it, but—but with the week away coming up I was hoping that maybe… maybe you’d let me bring him with us?” There it was, the in, it was coming, he’d have to be seen soon. Breeeath, it’d be okay. He’d be okay.

“Oh!” Oh? What did oh mean? Was oh bad? Would oh be—

“Could we meet him first?” Masculine, Steve’s father. Holy shit. His dad. His dad. John Harrington. Fuck.

“Yeah! I uhm… he’s here actually. Uh… one second.” Steve dipped back out into the walk through where Eddie looked at him through wide, slightly panicked doe eyes. “Hey… it’s okay…” could have paid him millions, it wouldn’t erase the fright that seemed to settle into his bones when the time to shine arrived. He’d never had stage fright before. Maybe he should have given Greg, the kid playing Hamlet more of a break during that school production of Hamlet he’d flipped out just before. “Eddie… c’mere” he drew Eddie in, coaxed him away from that wall and drew him into his embrace. “It’s okay, I’m right here, it’s safe, nothing and no one is going to hurt you while I’m here, okay?”

“Steven, is he—” Steve turned his head to look back at his father in the doorway, Eddie just about visible in his arms, wide eyed and frankly freaking out just a little “Oh Steven…”

Part 9

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Eddie's scared kitten mode: activated

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drdemonprince · 16 days

Note

don’t know if this is relevant to your ask box, but I thought you might find it interesting.

I’m a 20 yr old trans man who’s just started an ongoing thing with a new Dom, who is over twice my age. I’m currently finishing up my second year at uni, and he’s, you guessed it, also the, uh…. academic sort.

He’s a busy guy so obviously we can only meet up every once and a while, but we text almost every day. From the beginning he was always curious about my school endeavours, but recently it’s become more of a thing.

He won’t let us meet until certain assignments are done. He’s flexible and understanding, like any good dom, but holy shit this man had me at a cafe for ten hours on 40mg of vyvanse writing my final essay like my life depended on it. I didn’t even know who I was, motivated by the pure need to please and, quite frankly, desperate desire to be absolutely taken and used. This man has “cured” my ADHD (not really, but damn well is he fucking helping it).

I think the point I’m getting at here it that I can’t believe it took the motivation of my D/s relationship to get me to get shit done. Like, I’m done DAYS before the deadline for things I usually would have left last minute. I’ve been honest with my struggles with motivation and difficulties taking care of myself, and he is genuinely invested in my well-being so I know it all comes from a place of care and respect.

At the moment I’m working on my final short film for a class, and he told me to make a list of all the foley sounds I thought would help drive the narrative (he knows I love making lists, it’s also the autism), and as probably one of the best rewards for my good behaviour, he shared with me a collection of audio files (he dabbles in audio mixing) that were relevant to the list I shared. Can you believe this??!!

All these studentxprof fics are getting it wrong. Sometimes nothing comes between a teacher’s genuinely investment in student learning (if they enjoy what they do, like he does) and that is absolutely true in this case. Absolutely unbelievable this is my life right now. Would love to hear your thoughts on this!

This sounds so fucking sweet and HOT anon! I'm so glad you're having an exciting time with an older dom who cares about you and helps you meet your goals! And the phrasing of this guy making you write for hours on vyvanse is especially titilating...making it sound like an intox scene omg drool

ADHDers are generally very socially motivated, which is not rare for human beings at all. It makes sense that having the external structure that an outside observe can provide and the sense that your actions actually matter to other people and that people care about you would help facilitate you focusing on shit and getting organized! Not to mention how much fuckin easier it is to perform any kind of household task or bit of drudgery once it becomes sexual service. Shit gives boring regular life a charge of excitement, and the abdication of power gives you the discipline to actually follow through, because you're not the only one on the hook for everything and that's less scary!

I have nothing much more to say other than this rules and I hope you keep having a fun time!

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nnight-dances · 1 year

Text

SOME GUY!

pairings: mark lee x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, heated moments tropes: close friends to lovers?, mark avoids u because he's stupid, taeyong as your perfect ex who's still in love w u, u kiss mark's face to shut him up. warnings: mint ice-cream slander, mark is some guy, skinship, college frat party, not proofread.

author's note: haha guess who's in their mark phase hhhhh... sorry he's just such an interesting guy i could write him all day long. either way!!! more mark appreciation, less depression <3

—

at the end of the day, mark really was just some guy.

that’s what he thought to himself everytime he sat down to really consider the reality of all things. he doesn’t mean to get all self-deprecating and emo like that, but it was just a neutral truth thing that kinda hurts the first time you realize it but then it’s just the obvious thing in your daily life. but of course, if he ever did tell someone that he always felt like some guy among a bunch of cool guys, regardless of their gender, he would have to sit through one of those ultimately useless and pitiful speeches about how talented he really was.

— “you know what? you’re right!”

mark’s thoughts zap off their route when he hears you agree with his remark a few seconds ago. honestly, he hadn’t been completely sure if you’d heard him because of the lack of reaction you’d given him. but when you suddenly chuckle and agree with him, mark chokes over the stream of dr pepper in his throat.

he coughs desperately, “wait, what?”

your smile widens, “you’re just some guy. that’s like the perfect description of you.”

under normal circumstances, mark thinnks he would’ve been offended by how certain you sound. but the way you say it? it’s not like you’re trying to be mean or condescending… more like you’re just saying the truth. the neutral truth thing…

“i can’t believe you,” mark mutters, face splitting in a laugh, “i can’t believe you’re agreeing with me!” you look slightly confused but continue, “don’t tell me you’re hurt? you were the one who brought it up!”

mark shakes his head, controlling his laughter, still slightly losing his mind. “you’re really something, bro. i just didn’t expect you to actually be honest.” he laughs again, taking a sip of his drink again, becoming aware that he was being too loud for a bookstore. thankfully though, on a brief glance around, nobody seemed to care.

you fiddle with the zipper of your pencil pouch in thought. then, a shrug as you look back at mark, “hmm, isn’t that funny. i’m some thing, you’re some guy.”

mark falls into another fit of laughter before he knows it, disbelieving more than anything over your badly disguised shamelessness. you hold in a laugh as you land the last punch to his gut, “the perfect pair, isn’t it?” — the punch that sends him right into an oblivion of a world where nothing except you makes sense.

(ok perhaps, mark was being a tad dramatic. you know what he means though: he’s smitten.)

—

if someone were to kidnap you for the purposes of interrogating your honesty behind your claims that you thought mark was some guy, you’d probably get shot in the head instead, because there was no way you were letting anyone in on the information that you did not actually consider mark some guy.

maybe, a little, yes, but at this point, the phrase ‘some guy’ needs some more definiton. some guy as in boring and bland and dry and overdone? absolutely not. if that was what mark was, you wouldn’t have been committing every last one of your wednesday evenings, aka the only free evenings you ever get, to sitting in a crowded bookstore to pretend to do homework with him. you never did homework with mark around.

mark was the kind of some guy that was just being himself. yeah, that’s all you got. mark was mark. good explanation.

“bro? y/n, you good?”

you blink, finding mark swaying in front of you. you were currently sat on a bench near the building where your next class was.

“uhh, sorry,” you take off your headphones to look up at mark, “what are you doing on this part of campus?”

mark shrugs with a playful smile, “why can’t i be here?”

“because you literally don’t take any classes in the econ department?”

he shrugs again, “what if i’ve changed my ways? we’re still young and free, y/n, think a little outside the box, won’t you?”

“you’re taking econ? how- how did you-?”

“oh, look at that,” mark cuts you off, holding up his phone in front of your face. the time reads 11:05 am. “it’s time for our class. let’s go.” you’re busy processing his words (our class???) when he pulls you by the arm and toward the hall behind you.

and that’s the story of how you go from knowing absolutely nobody in your econ class, to sitting next mark in the extremely damp and cramped chairs of your econ class which means your arm is constantly touching his which you, for some reason, don’t hate. probably because the chilly fall wind coming through the window next to mark always makes you glad for the warmth.

mark, on the other hand, smiles a small smile whenever you shuffle closer because even though, the guy (doyoung is his name?) in front of him is always asking him to close the window, he would rather not.

—

“you’re kidding? ice-cream? in this fucking weather?” you question mark, coughing a fake cough to make your point.

“what are you, a coward?”

when you give mark an unimpressed look, he breaks a laugh, grabbing hold of you by your elbow. cheekily, he says, “please. for me?”

you frown, feeling your resolve crumble under his stupid gaze, “i hate you,” you say but let mark pull you after him into the tiny corner shop.

the two of you huddle over the menu of the ice-cream shop, and you exclaim quietly, “oh! i’ve been wanting to try their raspberry choco flavor for a while!” mark looks between you and menu, “ah, really? that sounds kinda good.”

then, he shifts to look at the girl behind the counter, “uhh, we’ll have one mint chocolate and one raspberry choco, please.” you gasp at mark’s choice, “m-mint chocolate?! mark. i think i might break up with you.”

mark is too busy reddening at your joke that hits too close to home to notice the worker chuckling at you. she processes your orders and mark has time to recover.

when he looks back at you, you’re still grimacing. “i didn’t think you could get any worse.”

“are you sure you should be saying that to someone who’s treating you to icecream?”

“huh?” your eyes widen and then you smile, “ahhh, i see. i wasn’t aware you were bribing me into have a favorable opinion of you.” before mark can retort though, you continue with a smirk, “i’m not complaining though.”

your smirk both flusters and scares mark because it’s evidence you’re upto no good in your head but before he can air his suspicion, you’re reaching out for the two cones of icecream that the girl is handing out.

“you guys are really cute together,” the worker remarks shyly, giving you a thumbs up of approval.

mark chokes on the first bite of his mint choco icecream. you look at mark and he expects you to shut down the worker swiftly, but then you reach for his hand, pulling him closer with a bashful smile and say, “thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”

“uh-?” you cut mark’s question off by pulling him out of the store after you.

when you’re outside, you burst into laughter at the perplexed look on mark’s look, looking absolutely adorable next to his already melting green blob of an abomination.

—

the next morning, mark is still suffering through it, unable to come to terms with your actions yesterday. they were honestly not out of character for you. you were always one to do shit just because you knew it would get a reaction out of someone else. like, that time you didn’t tell mark he had spinach in his teeth the whole time he was speaking in econ and only told him at the end. yeah, sure, but surely that was different from you pretending that you and mark were together. right?

mark’s pulled out of his thoughts when his phone buzzes next to his pillow. he stirs to his side, opening his phone only to find a text from you.

y/n: fuck u

mark’s heart skips a beat, no matter the fact that you’re swearing at him the first thing in the morning.

mark: what did i do now…

y/n: it’s ur fault

mark: ???

y/n: i’m fuckin sick

“oh, fuck,” mark swears, sitting up with a frown, fingers quickly shooting a flurry of concerned texts back.

mark: oh shit really?

mark: im so sorry

mark: how bad is it?

y/n: it’s just a cold, dw not that bad

mark: what does that mean?

you, however, don’t bother to elaborate any more on your condition, going silent.

he groans, guilt settling in the slouch of his shoulder as he stares at his screen for a solid 10 minutes before giving up on your response. as he gets ready for the day, at the top of mark’s to do list is to visit your dorm room with medicine and snacks.

but by the time 3 pm rolls around, mark finds himself constantly distracted by classes and homeowork. he looks at the time and sighs. you hadn’t managed to get back to him. but considering how he hadn’t seen you in econ or lunch, your cold was more than ‘not bad’.

sitting outside the library to collect his thoughts, he spots chaewon, your roommate. the two of you had run into mark on a grocery shopping errand and mark had had a decent enough conversation to make him run up to chaewon.

“oh!” chaewon is surprised at first when mark blocks her way with a quick hey. “oh hey, mark!”

“um,” mark looks at the take-out box in her hands, “um, is that for y/n?”

“oh, yeah. did you hear? she woke up this morning with a fever.”

“a fever?”

“yeah, it was pretty high too. i had to force her to stay in bed or i think she would’ve just gone to class like the dumbass she is.”

mark frowns, “oh, no. has she eaten all day?”

chaewon hums in thought, “she told me she was fine for breakfast. i’m not sure if she had lunch though so i was just going to take some pizza and salad in case she’s been starving.”

mark’s frown deepens as she adds, “oh i better hurry though! i have to get back here in time for my dance practice.”

“ah…” he scratches his head, “uhh, if you’re busy, i wouldn’t mind dropping it off to y/n.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow, “wait, really? you’d do that?”

“um, yeah. it’s my fault she got sick anyway. i made her eat icecream last night.”

she laughs, “a little icecream wouldn’t have done that. but sure! it’d be a great help, if you did that. thanks, mark.”

mark hadn’t thought this through, he realizes when he reaches the door that reads y/n on the door, right next to chaewon. he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, before knocking on the door. “y/n?” his voice breaks mid-sentence and he wants to hide in a hole somewhere, but you’re quick to throw your door open.

your hair is up in a bun which bobs in rhythm with your head, when you find mark outside your room, “mark? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“you weren’t responding to my texts,” he mumbles, and then holds up chaewon’s takeout box in one hand and in the other, the bag of medicine and snacks he’d packed. “i come bearing gifts though.”

you cough hoarsely into your elbow, pulling at the hem of your green hoodie as you consider mark in front of you. “you could’ve told me you were coming,” you sound… shy? mark thinks as he follows into your room after you gesture him to enter.

he looks at your bed and chuckles at the mess that is your bed. then, he smiles as he looks at the eccentric yet coherent collage of pictures and letters on your wall. “this is so you,” he comments and places the food and medicine on your table.

you pout, “a room that looks like all hell broke lose… is me? wow, thanks, mark.”

mark wants to refute your comment, he does, but then he gets distracted by how the way you say his name in your hoarse inside voice and he coughs a little. “i got you medicine though?” he sounds squeaky to his own ears.

you smile though at that, looking inside the bag he’s kept. “ahhh, ramen! i knew i could count on you, mark lee.”

mark almost wants to beg you to stop saying his name so much. but instead he shoots you a thumbs up, “how are you holding up?”

you nod in thought, still unpacking everything mark bought, “hmm, i’m alive. you should’ve seen me in the morning though i felt like something was trying to crawl out my skin.”

you laugh at the imagery, pausing when you catch the guilty look on mark. you already know he’s about to apologize when he opens his mouth. you hold up a finger threateningly, “i know i said that in the morning, but it’s not actually your fault. i always get sick like this every time fall rolls around.”

“no, for real though, i did force you to come eat icecream with me, didn’t i? i’m sorry.”

“ugh, mark, trust me, i wouldn’t have eaten the icecream if i really didn’t want to,” you say, too kindly for your usual snarkiness as if you can sense how genuine mark’s apology was, “for real, my body’s just weird like that.”

when mark remains silent for another minute, you groan, “i know! you can repay me. stay and we can watch a movie or something. all the sleeping’s making me feel gross. plus, i couldn’t eat all this food myself.”

and that’s how mark finds himself settled next to you on your bed, blanket covering half his body, watching gilmore girls (your fall preference of entertainment, it seems). the first half hour went by fine, with one of you commenting ocassionally at something the characters did, but then you shifted closer to mark with a cough.

he was shocked at first but then he wonders if the medicine you’d taken before were starting to take effect. (he’d questioned how wise it was for you to be taking them before watching something, but he also didn’t want to make your condition worse.)

“you good, y/n?” he mumbles under his breath when he feels your head come to rest against his shoulder. he sounds surprisingly calm for the turmoil that is bursting within his veins at the contact.

you hum in acknowledgement, sniffing a little, “yeah, just a little sleepy.”

“oh, you should probably rest then,” mark reaches for the spacebar to pause the episode but your cold hand pulls his finger away. except you don’t let go of his finger, instead seeming to crave warmth, you’re suddenly holding his hand, icy fingertips coming to rest against the back of his palm.

mark’s hearbeat is in his ears by now but he lets you hold his hand as you protest, “mm, don’t wanna sleep. just keep watching.”

you don’t sound promising but he doesn’t argue, letting you having the final say in this situation.

five minutes later though, you stir against mark’s side, arm now in his lap and… yeah, you’re falling asleep.

mark freezes at the realization when he sees your eyelashes fluttering shut. oh god. oh no… this wasn’t good for his well-being. or his obsession with you. or anything.

he clears his throat, hating himself, “um, y/n?”

you don’t respond except for a short grunt that indicates you don’t intend to wake up. he doesn’t have the heart to move you but also, this wasn’t right, was it?

there wasn’t anything wrong with it per se, except of course the fact that it did not help mark’s big fat ugly crush on you or the fact that he spent the whole day thinking about how you were sick and it was his fault.

you move slightly in your sleep, suddenly seeming to come to. your eyes open a little, “mark?” your voice is dangerously low.

“yeah?” mark can hear the nerves in his voice.

you’re pulling him now, without a warning, onto your bed. “you’re warm. stay.”

mark’s eyes widen when you turn to hug him around the waist.

fuck. fuck. fuck. FUCK. this was… THIS IS…. UTREJKLSGIURKEJU?????YGSAELRIAY

mark brain malfunctions for a good minute before he remembers how to think. first, he thinks he has to leave or you’ll hate him forever. but when he tries to budge, you groan an annoyed groan making him scared to leave..

??? what is one supposed to do in these circumstances?

he stills, deciding it was better if he let you doze off comfortably. he slowly places an arm around your shoulder, patting a reassuring back rub into your skin. you nuzzle closer into him, clueless of the way mark is short-circuiting.

before he knows it though, mark finds himself dozing off, chin pressed up against the bone of your shoulder. the sleep isn’t chaotic like his thoughts usually are, but it’s a peaceful sleep, the kind that you only get when you share a bed with someone.

—

ever since that eventful… nap, mark has found himself growing closer to you, in all senses of the phrase. you’d seemed to start trusting mark more, your bookstore evenings turning into whole days spent in each other’s company. sometimes you’d be at each other’s room, more often yours, but otherwise, you’d end up in some new corner of campus, giggling over half-completed essays and collectively complaining about econ.

you’d also grown closer… physically. something about spending a sick evening in someone’s arms, you’d like to say. whatever the reason was, one way or another, you’d find a way to be next to each other.

you’d made a habit of holding mark’s hand, especially on colder days when your fingers lost all feeling till you pressed them into the knuckles of mark’s warm ones. other times, mark’s hand would be on your shoulder or back, casually doodling into your skin, a lazy smile on his face while you dramatically narrate some event from your life.

mark could tell something was different, though he dared not investigate what it was, too afraid to mess up what he had right now.

but then, he does the stupid thing of asking you the question.

it’s on a late night hangout in your room when chaewon’s out for the weekend to visit home, and y’all are sprawled on your bed, exhausted from a movie marathon.

something about the dim lights and the way you lean against his shoulder, makes him speak. “do you like someone right now?”

for a good while, mark thinks he mustn’t have asked the question out loud because of how quiet you are. but then, “what about you?”

“not fair! i asked you first,” mark complains with a chuckle. you shrug, “not telling if you don’t.”

he rolls his eyes, “two can play this game, y’know. i’m not giving.”

“ugh, fine. i’ll tell you about my ex for now.”

mark’s ear perks up at the mention and he waits for you to continue.

“ah, this is so embarassing to talk about. but.. last semester i was with taeyong.”

“wait. lee taeyong?”

“mhm-hm. you know him? he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off. we broke up right before new year’s eve so that was fun.”

mark falls silent as he recalls everything he can about lee taeyong. so far he has: perfect face and killer charm. oh yeah, wasn’t he a student athlete?

“you dated an athelete?” mark can’t help but ask.

“see! i know you’d make fun,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“no- no, i’m not making fun. that’s insane. taeyong is, like, famous.”

you groan, “and you’re listing all the reasons i broke up with him.”

mark isn’t sure what he can do with this information so he releases a strained chuckle, suddenly ready to head back to his room. he can’t be too obvious though, so he waits a bit.

“what about you?” you ask him, poking his arm. “any embarassing boyfriends?”

mark laughs despite it all, “i wish. i was in a silly little relationship but it was so long ago that i hardly remember.” with that, he sits up, a little abruptly.

you frown as he clears his throat, “um, anyway, i should get back soon. i’ve got to sleep.”

“the fuck?” you question, “it’s like 11 pm?”

“well, yeah, i have an early morning tomorrow.”

“on a sunday?”

“yeah, uhm, i forgot to tell you about this new job i have. anyways, i should really sleep soon. i’ll see you later, yeah?”

and just like that, mark leaves your room, with you gaping at how fast he’d made his exit, not even bothering to make real excuses. new job? halfway through the semester? yeah, sure. you feel your mood dampening at mark’s sudden cold shoulder, wondering if you’d upset him. but no matter how many times you thought about it, you weren’t sure what had made him act like that.

mark, on the other hand, can’t get the conversation out of his head, even as he walks to the library at 8 am on a sunday, ready to finish all traces of homework in existence. it doesn’t matter though because sitting in the silence of the study room, his mind repeats your words.

he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off.

boy, did mark feel stupid as shit. for everything? for thinking you were into him. somewhere along the way, your hands on his had him confused. for a minute there, he had stopped thinking about how he was actually just some guy. some guy who you chose to hang out with now and then, some guy who was your friend. mark was nowhere close to being taeyong, and even taeyong didn’t cut it for you. really, though, he couldn’t blame you. you really did deserve the best anyone could imagine.

a text from you interrupts his self-loathing spiralling.

y/n: heyoo!! u alive?

y/n: u left kinda abruptly last night. is everything ok?

mark clenches his fist as if to obliterate the hopeful smile that threatens his face. he thinks of how he might respond: sorry cant talk i’ve to make sure i’m not in love with u before i see u again or maybe: sorry i’m just trying not to cry in broad daylight bc i love u too much hjbykyvkvyf

“fuck! sorry!” a voice pulls mark back from his head. he looks up to see who’s broken into his study room… only to see lee taeyong standing there in confusion. of course this happens to mark.

“uhh, can i help you?” mark barely controls the snap that tries to escape him at the sight of taeyong.

“um, sorry,” taeyong looks down at his phone then back at mark, “i could’ve sworn i booked this room for the next hour…”

mark frowns, certain he’d booked this room for the next two hours. usually, he would’ve just told taeyong he’s booked it wrong, but instead he just says, “oh? i guess you can take this room then. i’ll go somewhere else.”

mark starts packing up but the other boy protests quickly, “no, no! it’s okay. i- um, i’d feel bad if you did that. what if… what if we shared? it’ll be nice to have someone else in the room, no?” taeyong smiles brightly at mark and the latter wants his eyes to stop working already.

call it the law of inertia, but something in mark doesn’t let him just leave the room, almost intrigued by how this might turn out. “alright, then.”

taeyong, as much as mark hates to admit it, is really nice. he hadn’t ever heard anything to refute that, but sitting silently in a room with someone really tells you all you need to know about someone. either way, the study sessions somehow seems to provide mark some sense of peace.

or so he thinks.

what he doesn’t expect is that two hours later, as the two of them are packing up to empty the room for the next occupant, for the next occupant to be… you. yes, of course, that’s gonna happen in this story.

for a moment, mark doesn’t find it particularly shocking to see you but when he notices the stiff look you share with taeyong, he realizes what’s happening.

you’d just entered the room with a knock when you’d noticed who was inside. your eyes travel between mark and taeyong, your mind unable to make sense of this.

your first thought is… is this why mark was weird last night? because he was close to taeyong and got offended by your remarks?

that would be the easy alternate, wouldn’t it? but even you can tell there’s a dryness in the way mark looks at the two of you, a look that unsettles you. of course, the sight of taeyong also unsettles you.

he speaks up before you, “y/n?”

you awkwardly wave at the two of them, “hi mark. hey taeyong. didn’t expect to see the two of you together.”

you look at mark pointedly but he’s not giving you much to work with. he just laughs as taeyong rushes to explain, “ah, i made a mistake in booking this room at the same time as mark, and he was kind enough to let me stay.”

marks want to leave right now. because of the way taeyong’s eyes are sparkling at the sight of you, hands nervously fidgeting. but he decides against it, when he sees you uneasy you seem, tight grip around the strap of your tote bag.

“what are you doing here?” mark asks and a part of you is relieved that he’s talking to you.

“um, homework. i didn’t really know what else to do ever since my friend started ghosting me.”

mark flinches at your attack, but persists in looking as indifferent as he can. “sorry about that, i got caught up finishing this essay.”

taeyong awkwardly coughs, “um, i should probably leave now. i have practice to get to.”

mark is quick to follow after taeyong, scared to death of being alone in a room with you. he doesn’t know what to do with himself around you anymore. “uhh, yeah, i’ll leave you to do homework, then! see ya!”

and just like that, it’s a repeat of last night. mark’s back receding except this time you watch him wave at you with a half-hearted smile as he leaves. you barely manage to close the door behind you before you feel yourself tear up.

this is stupid, you realize through tears, to be crying over something like this. but something like this? it meant a lot to you. you sit where mark sat minutes ago, the same disappointment in your eyes and a similar weight in your heart.

mark is not having the time of his life either though, as he walks out the library with taeyong, who starts asking questions about you as soon as he can.

“so you’re friends with y/n?” mark simply nods at that, having seen this coming.

“that’s cool. she’s really cool, isn’t she?”

“yeah, i suppose. she’s fun.”

“how close are you to her?”

mark laughs dismissively, “haha, i feel like i’ve done something wrong. calm down, bro.”

taeyong flushes at that, rubbing his neck, “oh, sorry. i didn’t mean to interrogate you like that. it’s just… you probably know about us, right?”

that words leaves taeyong’s mouth and buries itself deep into mark’s heart. us.

taeyong continues, “it’s just that i really miss her, man. i don’t think i’ve had as much fun with anyone else since her. or maybe, it’s just because i’m always comparing everyone to her.”

mark really doesn’t know what to say, feeling himself stuck in a similar situation. “hmm, it’ll get better.”

“i hope you’re right,” taeyong says, cheerfully patting mark’s back, “well, i have to go that way. see you around, bro. take care of her.”

take care of her? marks smiles remorsefully as he watches taeyong leave. and he wonders what was going on in your mind when you broke up with someone that perfect? what went on in your head when you befriended mark, just some guy?

—

on saturday, it’s been a whole week since you’ve talked to mark. you’d actually stayed up all night yesterday hoping he’d have a change of heart on friday night, and he’d text you with a can we talk? or come knocking on your door with an apologetic smile with some silly excuse. and you would’ve accepted it all because you were not familar with a mark-less existence. the past week was.. not good for you.

but on saturday night, you decide it’s enough. or rather, chaewon decides it’s enough when she sees you ready to spend the night in bed.

“y/n, i’m sorry but i can’t respect your stupid decisions anymore,” she bursts into the room with a concerned look.

you frown, “ouch? you just called me stupid.”

“because that’s what you’re being. i don’t care if you’re going through it, i’m not letting you woe over some guy on the weekend.”

you grimace at the phrase some guy, remembering your conversation with mark. “hey! i’m talking to you, miss,” chaewon’s hands pull off your bed. “let’s go out tonight. i don’t care.”

“chaewon…” you complain, voice low.

“y/n, my dear friend, stop giving up on life because mark lee is ghosting you. if i know anything about the two of you, y’all will be back to cuddling each other next week.”

you want to say you’re afraid that’s not gonna happen but chaewon is moving too fast for you. she throws a dress at you and then, a coat. “wear those and come to yunjin’s room. we’re pre-gaming.”

an hour later, you’re not feeling so bad after all. you’d forgotten how fun getting wasted really was. you giggle hopelessly when yunjin cracks another “slayyy~” at chaewon’s empty glass. as sakura pours her another shot, you nudge her with your own empty cup.

your roommate frowns a little, “you sure you’re not going too fast?”

you roll your eyes, “chaewon! you’re the one who wanted to slut me out tonight. how am i gonna do that sober?” that makes everyone double up in laughter and you down the vodka with a triumphant sigh.

another hour later, you’re really feeling yourself. the pre-game finally ended with all of you walking to the frat that was throwing tonight. the first step you take into the crowded room has you regretting your decision, but your worries go to waste once you’re hearing the music blast through your veins.

you stay within chaewon’s group for most of the night. the girls are fun, yunjin being one of the best people you’ve partied with. it’s halfway through a doja cat song when you feel your bladder getting full from all the beer. you groan at all the effort it’s gonna take to go upstairs to where the bathroom was, but you could use a break.

you quickly tell chaewon you’ll be back, pointing in the direction of the bathroom and reassure her you’re fine when she asks to come with. the world is definitely spinning as you go up the stairs but you do make it to the top without falling over.

but as soon as you reach for the door of the bathroom, you lose balance as the person inside emerges. “fuck,” you groan, falling over into the person ahead, “’m sorry,” you mumble, supporting yourself against the sink.

you’re ready to push whoever it is out of the bathroom when you heard a familar voice. “y/n?”

you look up and actually gasp when you see mark in front of you. “mark?!” you sound incredulous but honestly, you’re just ecstatic. “i miss you,” you say your thoughts shamelessly.

mark reddens or so your vision tells you. “y/n, are you drunk?”

you frown and shake your head, about to explain yourself when a loud voice outside tells you to hurry up with your business, the door still open. mark shouts a, “find somewhere else, buddy!” and shuts the door, locking it behind him.

your drunk brain isn’t doing well with the concept of you in a locked room with mark. “are you drunk, mark?”

mark laughs at your question, “a little, yeah.”

“okay, good, then can you just-” you lose your balance again and mark steadies you instantly, warm hand on your elbow. you lose your train of thoughts at the feel of him, looking into his eyes wordlessly.

you think you stay there for a minute like that, the two of you just catching up on all the looks you’ve missed out on in the last week.

“why are you mad at me?” you ask the question that’s been bugging you for ages. wanting mark to understand how hurt you’ve been, you pull at the sleeve of shirt, “i’ve been so sad. why are you avoiding me?”

mark takes your hand in his, “no! it’s not like that. i’m… not mad at you.”

“really?” you question him through a pout, “really?”

he doesn’t know what to do when pinned with that gaze of yours in that moment. and then his eyes land up on your lips, your little pout.

he knew the alcohol was a bad idea because now he can’t think straight, knowing he has to explain everything to you or he might lose it all. but somehow, instead of words, he feels another ugre crawl up his skin.

just as you open your mouth to speak, you feel mark’s lips on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp into his mouth, and he pulls away just as soon as he leaned in. he drops your hand, falling to his knees.

it takes you a moment to re-orient yourself after the taste of mark in your mouth, but you hear mark sniffle and instantly join him on the ground, hands on his face.

“are you crying?”

mark tries to stop himself but he can’t. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry.”

“hey,” you find yourself sobering up. how could you not when mark lee is in front of you, tears staining his ever-smiling face? “hey, mark, look at me.” he wipes at his face shakily, looking up at you through a fresh flood of tears.

“i’m sorry,” his voice breaks, “i’ve been acting so selfish with you. i shouldn’t have avoided you. i shouldn’t have kissed you. i’m.. it’s all because…” he trails off conveniently at the part of his sentence you most need to hear.

your fingers trail down to his chin, bringing his face back up, “it’s all because of what, mark? talk to me, baby.”

something in mark uncoils when you coo at him lovingly like that, his name as breathy as the nickname you suddenly throw at him. his lip quivers but his words are clear as day, “fuck, i’m into you, y/n. i know i’m just some guy really but i think i like you. i- like romantically, i’m dying to be with you.” he sighs when you don’t say anything, stunned into silence.

your hand stays put on his face though which mark thinks of as a good sign. gingerly, he takes your hand, gaze pointed at your interlocked fingers. “i know it’s awkward because you’re not into me like that. it’s all good, i understand.”

“mark, you’re drunk,” you finally mumble out, hand twitching in disbelief. “you’re just saying things.”

mark stiffens, “w-what? no! i’m serious, y/n. i’m not even that drunk anymore. how could i be, when you’re right here?” but then, he stirs, hands leaving yours, “oh, but if you’d rather forget that this happened—”

it’s a replay of five minutes ago, except this time your lips come crashing into mark’s, with so much force that you topple him over. he takes you with him, hand finding purchase at your waist as he pulls you on top of him, his back hitting the door of the bathroom.

your kiss is fierce, almost angry because you did not deserve to be kept in the dark about mark’s feelings. you push closer to him, making him groan into your lips at the intensity. you pull away then, hand at mark’s chest, “i hate you for avoiding me like that, mark. i can’t believe you.”

mark tries to explain himself but you’re kissing him again, swallowing his words whole, unforgiving in the way your hands grip his arms. again, you pull away, “what did you think? that i’d stop talking to you because you like me? you’re so stupid sometimes, mark.”

“i don’t—”

“no, you don’t understand. do you see me right now?” mark nods, eyes trailing at your disheveled state. mark couldn’t forget this sight if he wanted to: your hair wet with sweat, panting in between mark’s legs, lips a breath away.

“do i look like i hate you?”

“i mean, you do look annoyed,” mark remarks and you slap his arm with a snarl.

“that’s because you’re being unfair. what about my feelings for you, huh?” you challenge with a glare. “what about how much i suffered just because you decided to not show up to the bookstore? all because you came to some stupid conclusion by yourself?”

“wait,” mark starts, but you’re not letting him talk.

“no, listen, if i could, i’d seriously slap you. because i’m that down bad for you, mark! i’ve been thinking about doing this with you ever since you fell asleep in my bed that day. so fuck you, for hurting me like that.”

you’re breathless, eyes still trained on mark with that look of betrayal mixed with desire. you can’t help yourself though, mark looks absolutely breath-taking in front of you, mouth ajar in shock, lips red from your relentless kisses.

mark takes too long to process your words just then, long enough that you’re coming down from your high, embarassment flooding your veins. you go cold, standing up with a grunt. “i’m just gonna go back,” you mutter in disappointment, leaving before you can see mark’s response.

he’s coming back to his senses now, realizing that maybe you were right about how stupid he’d been. “fuck,” he breathes out, regaining his footing as he chases after you.

this chase proves to be difficult, given that the party only seems to have gotten more crowded since mark left. he struggles through the throngs of people, shouldering through, when he spots a silhouette of you in his peripheral vision. you were outside, apparently talking to another taller figure.

mark follows your shadow to the door, quickly making his way out. his breath hitches when he finds taeyong next to you. his arm is around your shoulder and you’re speaking to him in a low voice.

“y/n,” mark calls out, not hesitating to break taeyong’s hold on you, replacing it with his own embrace. he pulls you close. your eyes are teary and you sniff when you see mark, “what-”

“i’m sorry, can we talk?” he mumbles into your side, still aware of taeyong’s presence.

“oh, hey, mark. i was just,” taeyong moves to stand in front of the two of you, “taking care of y/n. she looked sick.”

“i’m fine, taeyong,” you reassure him, pressing yourself into mark’s side. “i’ll let mark walk me home. good night.” mark is impressed at how easily you dismiss taeyong, pulling mark after you.

“what do you want?”

mark stops you from walking, pulling you into a hug instead. “you’re right, i’m really stupid. let me ask you this instead: would you let me be your boyfriend?”

you release a soft laugh against his neck at his question, arms still for a moment for dramatic effect. then, you wrap yourself around him, kissing your answer into his ear, “of course, you idiot.”

—

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auroragreenvale · 5 months

Text

People Watching - JJ Maybank

They met in class for metaphysical philosophy, he tells his friends I like her ‘cause she’s so much smarter than me

OR How you and JJ met

Summary: A look into different points of JJ and reader's relationship inspired by People Watching by Conan Gray. 3k words

***

A/N: I loveee this song especially the opening verse and I always loved picturing the people that inspired it. The chapters wont follow the order of the lyrics. I hope y'all enjoy :)

***

“Dude look what is this shit?” He smacked the paper before holding it out to Pope. He took hold of it, looking over each class listed in his friend’s schedule for the upcoming year until he found the so-called “shit” JJ was referring to: Philosophy. Pope let out a chuckle the moment he registered the word and looked over at his friend, amused. “Pope, man this isn’t funny they must’ve messed up my schedule and shit! I can’t take this class, man!” Pope could only continue to laugh, catching Kiara’s attention. She grabbed the paper out of Pope’s hand and quickly displayed the same reaction as him.

“Wow JJ I had no idea you were such a scholar! An intellectual if you will?”

“Shut up Kie!” JJ rolled his eyes as his friends’ laughter died down, ready to show a little sympathy.

“Look JJ,” Pope started, “It really isn’t that big a deal. This stuff happens just go talk to the counselor and get it fixed, easy.”

“Yeah alright… gimme that,” JJ snatched back his class schedule before roughly folding it and putting it into his pocket. He’d probably remember to look at it again before the first day. Probably.

***

To JJ, school was the single biggest waste of his time. He sat through stupid classes all day, missing out on prime surfing time. And what’s worse, it’s not like he could smoke a joint in the middle of history, much less chat with any of his friends in English. He was just glad to have guaranteed easy classes that required close to nothing on his end. That and the knowledge that he didn’t have parents riding his case about his education or caring about his future allowed him to ignore the nuisance that was school once he left the building. But being put in philosophy did not work into his plan. Philosophy was for the smart people. Like Pope smart. Maybe even smarter and JJ definitely considered himself a lot less smart than Pope. JJ took the classes that were required of him and absolutely nothing else. The people who took philosophy probably finished half of their requirements in middle school and overloaded on classes with specific topics because they were actually interested in them. He shuddered at the thought of more school as he entered his next class. Seven students sat at the various desks, not even filling half of them. JJ thought maybe the rest of the class was running late but he thought it was weird that everyone there currently sat toward the front of the room. His other classes were always full and people had no issue sitting in the very back row even if the one closest to the teacher had yet to be filled. But JJ was a master at blending in of course and even though he planned to get out of this class by tomorrow, he could still have fun pretending to be one of the smart kids. He slid into the last empty seat in the second row, looking around and observing his temporary classmates. His brow furrowed in confusion when he noticed them all with faces in books or scribbling away in their notebooks. How were they doing work before the bell had even rung? He slid down slightly in his seat letting his head hang down in the direction of his empty desktop, hoping to divert attention away from himself so as not to blow his cover and ruin his little game. His hand came up to the side of his face, blocking it from the others in his row as he waited for the dreaded class to begin.

“Hi!” The sound came from the desk next to him. He lowered his hand and looked over at the girl sitting there. “...I… haven’t seen you before, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh well… I typically take a lotta... math... classes so this is kinda… new for me,” he tested out.

“Oh me too! Maybe we’ll have some more classes together.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Mmm yeah maybe,” he smiled, amused at the possibility, “I’m JJ.”

“Nice to meet you. Glad to have you in class JJ.” Again he smiled, you reading it as politeness when he really was trying to hold back laughter. Finally the bell rang signaling the beginning of class and JJ realized no other students had entered the room. If the first bell took that long to sound, he knew it would take an eternity before the last one would sound, ending his philosophy career and his misery.

***

“You’re kidding me what!? What do you mean there’s no other classes??” JJ yelled, ignoring that he was in the administrative office.

“Please keep it down Mr. Maybank. What I mean is that all the other classes at that time are full so we can’t move you out of your current class.”

“Ughh! … Yall messed this up, you gotta fix it!”

“I’m sorry JJ but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Okay but you don’t understand I can’t spend the whole semester in this class its for like the genius kids! I can’t do that shit!”

“Mr. Maybank please watch your language. And as for these ‘genius kids’ I suggest you talk to one of them about tutoring you.” At that JJ threw his head back and groaned as he exited the office and made his way outside to join his friends for lunch. They immediately noticed his dramatic expression as he approached.

“Whats up J,” Kiara asked slowly.

“This bullshit! They said they can’t take me outta that stupid class!”

“Wait you mean philosophy? You have to stay in it all semester,” Pope asked. JJ nodded.

“And what’s worse they said I should get a fucking tutor! Like I’m gonna go outta my way and do more school when I’m not even at school,” JJ shook his head, “I think I’ll just go ahead and fail.”

“Hate to break it to you man but if you fail it they’ll probably make you retake it over the summer.”

“Pope dude are you serious?” He nodded. “Fuuuck.” Kiara patted his shoulder, looking amused.

“Well uh, guess you’re getting a tutor.”

***

JJ walked into his second day of philosophy and slumped down in the seat next to yours. Blowing out a breath, he reluctantly looked over at you, preparing to ask you the dreaded question. You gave him a small smile.

“So uh… do you like… tutor people ever? For a friend! He’s… he’s looking for a… tutor.” Your smile grew, knowing where this was going.

“Oh yeah I do what does your, uh friend need tutoring in?”

“This class!-- Well not this… class but you know this subject.”

“Mmm okay well I’d be willing to be your friend’s study buddy, help ‘em out.”

“Okay cool cool.... Cool. That's real uh cool of you.” You giggled.

“Cool,” you answered sarcastically. This made JJ laugh softly, dropping his charade.

“Yeah so uh… should we get crackin’ like today I-- I think that would… be good. And do we… me at… the library or…?”

“Um we could or we could just go to my place if that's better?”

“Okay yeah… yeah sure that's good I’ll uh, meet you after school?”

“Sounds good.” He mirrored the smile you gave him before you both turned to face the front of the class where the teacher stood.

***

“JJ come on, the final’s in two weeks you need to get some more work done on your paper so you can start reviewing in time.”

“But dude. This paper is so stupid I do not care about any of these old guys’ theories.”

“Okay but you know them, I know ‘cause I helped you learn them, so pick one and write something about it.” JJ groaned in his usual dramatic fashion making both of you laugh. You shoved him lightly, telling him to write which he eventually began to do. When you had finished up your own essay you turned your attention to what JJ had started writing. You read over the beginnings of his essay a couple of times.

“JJ! This is good. These ideas are really good!”

“Well don’t sound so surprised,” he joked.

“I just mean I figured you had nothing since you didn’t want to write it so bad. But this is good, keep going and we can polish it up.”

“For real?”

“Yeah I’m really proud of you.” It was a simple statement and you quickly turned your attention to work for your other classes. But JJ let his gaze linger on you for a few seconds longer, a small smile on his lips. No one had ever said they were proud of him before. At least not that he could remember and definitely not when it came to smart stuff like this. He felt his heart expand hearing those words and he wondered how it would feel to hear them again. And again. He hoped he might do something else deserving of someone’s pride again. It made him feel taken care of in the way he tries to take care of his friends and it felt good to be on the other side of that kind of affection. He turned his attention back to his work and for the first time in his education, felt some motivation.

“No listen John B she’s like, so smart it's like cool! She might even be smarter than Pope and he’s probably the smartest person I know.” In his modesty, Pope let out a loud laugh, thinking JJ must have pretty low standards for intelligence if he was on the smartest end. “Pope what the hell is funny man?” This made Kiara snicker as well. JJ’s friends were all amused at how serious he seemed to be about this, all seeing what he couldn’t.

“Uh, JJ it sounds like you might have a little crush,” John B said.

“Shit,” JJ said, brushing off the notion. “Fuck,” he said more quietly in realization in disbelief. His friends continued their quiet giggling at his apparent predicament.

“You gonna… you gonna ask her out or what? I mean you’ll only be in class together for another what, two weeks? And I doubt you’ll ever be in one of her classes again so,” Pope laughed.

“Shut up man I could be, I'm doing pretty good.”

“I’m sorry could any of you imagine JJ dating this apparent genius girl,” Kiara laughed at the images it brought to her mind.

“Yeah I don’t know if she’d be down to date like a surfer dude,” John B changed his voice to mock his friend.

“Or she’d be like studying or something and you’re all,” Kiara also took on a ridiculous voice, “‘Hey babe wanna hit,’” she mimicked blowing out smoke and took on a stoner persona that they all knew was incredibly far off from JJ. But they still found it funny.

“You guys are the fucking worst and I’m gonna ask her out and you’re all gona feel like idiots okay,” JJ said holding both of his middle fingers up for all of his still amused friends to see.

“Just invite us to the wedding okay,” Kiara mocked, earning a shove from her friend as she fell out laughing.

***

“Hey I wanna… say, ya know thanks for helping, uh my friend out with this class,” JJ said trying to bring you back to the beginning of the semester with this class. You closed your book figuring it was time for a break. You gave JJ a tired smile that was nonetheless bright. He almost rolled his eyes when he smiled back just as big remembering how his friends noticed his feelings before he did and hating them being right.

“Well he was a pretty… okay study buddy,” you joked back. JJ let out a breathy laugh.

“Just okay?”

“Well you’re pretty easily distracted but you do keep it fun. So better than okay I guess. And you really impressed me this semester. You’re a lot smarter than you think.” When JJ recalls this moment he can only assume he blushed a bright pink at your genuine statement and the look in your eyes. Thinking about it, he still wants to melt in both embarrassment and somehow happiness. He quickly changed the subject.

“Gonna be weird not seein’ each other all the time huh?” He had really gotten used to seeing you everyday, enjoying the time he spent with you even if it was filled doing activities he didn’t so much enjoy.

“Yeah.” You paused. “...No one in my classes is ever as,” you searched for the right word but couldn’t find it, “...fun as you.”

“Well no one in my classes is ever so damn smart like you,” he replied, “But uh, I was wondering did you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like no studying or anything?”

“Yeah I would, yeah. Let’s do that,” You smiled at him and then opened your textbook again, eyes going down to the words you knew you would no longer be able to focus on.

***

JJ stood in front of the small bathroom mirror in the Chateau fluffing and fixing his hair over and over, indecisive. He wore his least dirty pair of boots and had borrowed one of John B’s less loud button down shirts. He topped it with a jacket. He felt a little weird but he hoped you’d think he looked nice in the clothes that were slightly nicer than what he typically wore to school. He smoothed back his hair one more time and ran his hand through it once. He settled on that. At least it was clean and dry, an improvement from the usual. He drove the Twinkie to your place, a very familiar route by now. When he arrived he paused in the driver's seat. Did he text you he was here or did he go up and knock? Was that what people did to pick up a friend or just dates? You hadn’t said this was a date. And what if one of your family members answered the door? He let out a breath and opened the car door before he could stop himself. He walked up to the door and knocked. He waited almost a moment too long, beginning to contemplate going back to the car and texting you when you opened the door grinning. You were actually really excited to hang out with JJ and get to know him more without homework and studying. You had enjoyed his company over the semester. JJ smiled and felt relief when you appeared and then suddenly felt self conscious. You looked exactly like yourself and he was wearing someone else's clothes. So fucking stupid. He tried to push it out of his mind as you greeted each other and he walked you to the Twinkie. As you both almost arrived at the driver's side of the car, he had the idea to open your door for you. He stopped awkwardly and abruptly, confusing you, as he changed direction to go around the front of the van. He opened the door for you and you got in thanking him. You showed little confusion, just a small smile, as you were used to his odd actions at this point. JJ got in the car, turned up the music and began driving. He felt nervous as shit. He spent the entire semester with you and now you were causing him to act like an idiot. And this wasn’t even a date! What was wrong with him? He clutched the top of the steering wheel and glanced over at you quickly before he started speaking.

“So uh I was thinking we could maybe get some food over at The Wreck? That… that cool?”

“Yeah that sounds good,” you responded. JJ didn’t really love the idea of going to the place Kie’s parents owned and she worked there. He’d be surprised if he didn’t see his dumbass best friends there trying to spy on his date. If they all weren’t, Kie would definitely be working there, and have prime position to embarrass him. But she did offer to cover half the bill and it was a hot spot. JJ figured it would look good and maybe earn him another date. Or a first real one actually. God he just hoped he wouldn't blow it. Another date with you, even if only one more sounded like a great deal to JJ, and he needed to do everything possible to make it happen.

***

You sat in the passenger seat of the van that JJ had informed you was called the Twinkie. The conversation lulled as he drove the car up to your house and in that moment of silence, realization dawned on you. Your brows scrunched as you tried to make sense of the thought that had appeared in your mind. JJput the car in park and you turned to him before he could say anything. You took a breath.

“JJ? Was this a date?” You asked it with hesitation but more confidence than you expected to come through your words. JJ turned to you, caught off guard, but quickly painted on his signature playful smirk.

“Did you want it to be,” he asks. You almost rolled your eyes.

“JJ,” you repeated more sternly this time. You really wanted to know his answer. “Was this a date?” His face softened and his expression changed from the confident boy most knew well to almost bashful. You decided you liked that look on him.

“I was kinda hoping it could be.” He looked up at you at the end of his statement and mustering all of his confidence leaned in. It happened quickly. He touched his lips briefly to yours in a soft kiss. It was so delicate that it stole your breath, making you dizzy. He pulled away before you could even process that moment. He looked at you, eyes closed and bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile. You took a deep breath in.

“Definitely a date then.” You opened your eyes slowly.

“That cool with you,” JJ asked, growing nervous. You nodded flashing that smile that JJ already found intoxicating.

“I’m hoping you can… take me on another one?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Okay,” you said. You leaned over quickly, mirroring his actions, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Just as quickly, you exited the car with one more look back at the boy. With your back to him as you unlocked your door, he let out a cheer before speeding off. You smiled to yourself as you entered your house and JJ grinned his whole way home.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #people watching #auroragreenvale #pplw

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yunacoeur · 1 year

Text

loser in love - kim taerae

a/n: i’ve been working on this for about a week now and it’s still shorter than i expected it to be. oh well, let me know if you like this! also who do i need to bribe at wakeone to give me jeonghyeon bc i miss him!!!! need him so bad

word count: 3.8k

zb1 | kim taerae, sunshine x grumpy au, angst, cute ending, communication issues trope, he fell first but she fell harder trope, college au, reader kinda sucks but they mean well <3

—

your professor assigns a two-person project in your philosophy class. it’s a paper on whether or not socrates was innocent or guilty of corrupting the youth.. or something like that. given you got a decent partner, it would take just a couple sessions at the library to get it done. you’re not even paying attention until someone walks up to you while you’re reading something on your phone. you look up to see a guy from your class you haven’t spoken to yet, though his reputation precedes him (yours must as well. he seems like he knows who you are).

his name is taerae, you… think. he’s in the same friend group with sung hanbin and kim jiwoong, which already means he’s popular and well liked if he’s good enough to hang around with those kinds of guys. he’s always got this bright smile on his face, like a literal ray of sunshine walks through those doors every monday, wednesday, and friday.

“hi,” he says to you, “i’m taerae. you’re my partner, right?” so you were right.

“yep,” you respond plainly.

he awkwardly waits for you to maybe say something else, but when you don’t, he says, “are you available to meet at the library today? so we can get a headstart?”

yeah and did i mention he’s an amazing student? you couldn’t even imagine doing an assignment the day it was assigned, let alone actually do it, but it’s one less thing to worry about in three weeks and your future self will thank you.

“yeah, i can do 3,” you say and he smiles that bright smile that could make your heart flutter.

“alright, i’ll see you then!” he says, and then he’s off.

you’re left right where you started, sitting at your desk, staring at your phone. you look over at the couple next to you, being way too excited that they got paired together. they’re doing way too much pda for a classroom and it reminds you, once again, that love is weird. not your style.

—

the first time you go to the library is 3 weeks before the due date.

“so which argument should we use? i think guilty would be more interesting to write about, but innocent is probably the easier side to defend.” he says, looking over at you after going over all his papers with that stupid smile again. it’s kind of annoying how immediately likable he is.

“i don’t care. up to you,” you mumble, getting your laptop setup to write up your guys’ outline.

he seems discouraged that you’re only responding to him shortly, but he refuses to give up, much to your dismay, “i want you to pick.” he says, small smile this time. his dimple is still visible, of course.

“fine. we’ll argue that he’s innocent. what’s your email so i can share this doc with you?” you say, looking up at him, making brief eye contact.

he’s silent for a second, just looking at you.

and then suddenly it’s like his soul comes back into his body. “oh, sorry,” he says lamely, typing in his email on your keyboard and handing your laptop back you. he gets quiet for a second, and it makes the atmosphere weird and almost tense.

you feel the need to break it, “do you want to write the introduction and then first two arguments and i’ll write the third argument, the counter, and the conclusion?”

he smiles. you don’t even know why he would be smiling right now, but he has this look of fondness on his face, “sure. let’s work for an hour and then take a break. okay?” he says and you nod.

you pretend not to notice the way he keeps looking at you, opening his mouth like he has something to say, and then giving up on that thought and going back to typing.

—

“hi bestie,” you say as you walk up to taerae’s usual seat in the library. and there he is as always at this time. he doesn’t even know himself how he got you to show up here everyday (even if you barely did any work. you had finished your parts of the paper a week ago, but keep showing up to accompany him until he was done.) he can’t figure out why you keep showing up but he wont tell you to leave.

“hey,” he says, not looking up from his laptop.

“i got you something,” you tell him. he looks up, curious.

you got him coffee when you got one for yourself, the exact thing he told you he liked last time.

it makes his heart skip a beat. maybe more than one.

—

“do you believe in ghosts?” he asks you as you type up a different assignment. the question catches you off guard, and you choose to stop your assignment and humor him for a second.

“i guess so? why?”

“why do you believe in ghosts?” he asks.

you laugh breathlessly, considering the true answer that you believe, “it just makes sense that they do. especially if their soul had unfinished business.”

“like what?”

“i dont know,” you shake your head, giggling at his persistence, “maybe they left someone they loved dearly behind, and they have to watch over them.”

loved… to love someone so dearly that you soul won’t rest until they find peace. your peace connected to theirs. how beautiful…

—

“do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he asks, suddenly. a part of you almost already knows what he means. you were always more similar than you gave yourselves credit for.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve never been in love. always so focused on music and my studies,” he admits, looking over at you, “am i missing out? it is nice to be in love?”

“well, unfortunately for you, you picked the one wrong person to ask,” you laugh at his defeated face, “ i’ve never been in love and i don’t really think i want to. it sounds lame. like i just wanna love my friends and myself. i don’t think romance is for me.”

“yeah..? that sounds lonely,” he comments, but you shake your head.

“not lonely, just no one to break my heart.”

—

“if we keep going at this rate,” you say as you walk up to him and pull out your laptop, “we’ll probably only have to come to the library one more time. so this is what it’s like to be a good student.” you laugh to yourself as you sit down. he smiles faintly.

“yeah, for sure,” he says. almost looking down, like what you said upset him in some kind of way. it doesn’t make sense why. why would he want to keep working on philosophy assignments more than they have to?

—

the supposedly ‘last’ time you go to the library is d-5 from the due date.

“do you really hate romance?” he asks, bringing up the topic again. he seems weirdly hung up on it.

“no, i never said i hated it. just not for me,” you sigh, “i’m not really a people person anyway. there’s no one i’d want to date even if i wanted to be romanced.”

ouch.

—

it’s d-day. a beautiful wednesday.

“hey!” taerae says, catching your attention as you get up to leave class.

“what’s up?”

“can you meet after your classes today? would 3 work?” he asks, knowing full well you just submitted that paper with both your names on it. it was a+ material, what could be wrong about it?

“why? the project is over,” you say bluntly. he smile falters just a bit, but he catches himself and continues on.

“i… need your help to study,” he says, like he came up with it on the spot.

‘you need… my help?’ you wanna say, but you don’t. you don’t call him out.

“okay,” you say, “but i’m not staying long. just long enough to ‘help’ or whatever. see ya, tae.” you get up to go, but his hand stops you, grabbing your arm.

“hey... uhm.. please come,” he says sincerely. something about this feels deeper than just ‘studying’. his eyes are showing how vulnerable he already feels.

“i will, taerae. i promise,” you say, “i'm honestly offended you think I'm gonna stand you up.”

he laughs with a bittersweet smile, “sorry!” as you walk off to your next class.

–

he’s sitting at one of those benches outside the library when you walk up to him. he doesn’t notice you at first, just playing on his phone. he looks so peaceful.

and then he notices you, and smiles that signature smile, “hey! thank you for coming,” he says.

it’s just a tad bit confusing why he’s so hellbent on the idea that you wouldn’t want to come see him, or that it’s so important that you’re here.

“i’m taking it that you don’t need help studying,” you smile back at him, and he shakes his head, “didn’t think so. you’re a star student.”

“i try my best,” he says, and you scoff at him. he barely tries. he’s just good at everything (except for math. but that’s math’s fault for being too complicated for him).

you shake your head at him, “okay, what did you wanna do?”

“i actually wanted to tell you something,” he starts. that smile of his fades when he gets anxious. he puts his hands in his pockets to hide how clammy they’re getting. you urge him to continue but he’s struggling to find the words, “i-i’m sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

“it’s okay, tae, just breathe,”

he frowns, seemingly gaining the courage to say his thoughts, “i- i know this is- this is not what you want to hear because you’ve told me how you’re not romantically interested in anyone and you don’t want a relationship. you’re really clear about that and i respect that.”

he closes his eyes as he braces himself for how vulnerable he’s about to feel. he’s preparing to bare his heart out to you, when he knows you can’t care for it like he needs.

“and i don’t want to make you feel pressured, but it feels wrong to hide it from you while i monopolize all your time,” he says, lowering his face to hide it from you. you can still see how red his ears are getting though, “i had to go and fall for the one person i couldn’t fall in love with.” he says it more to himself, like a criticism. ‘how could i do something so stupid, so self-destructive?’ he’s probably thinking, "I have feelings for you. i'm sorry."

“taerae…” you whisper, coming closer to try and comfort him, putting your hand on his arm.

he shakes his head again, looking up with you with those darling eyes that make people fall for him left and right, “and it’s not fair to you, but it’s not fair to me either. you don’t want to be in love? that’s fine. but you can’t go and take my heart and write your initials on it like it belongs to you, and expect me to not feel it pounding in my chest for you. that’s…” it’s ironic that so many people probably have feelings for him and yet he’s here, baring his soul out to you, “cruel.”

his eyes, intentionally or not, are piercing into your soul in turn. it’s like he can see every last piece of your being, and it’s frightening to be that known by someone else. they’re pulling you in like a siren song, making you want to give it a chance, give him a chance. his eyes are doing every last thing to make you his, promising you to only ever be yours, to never hurt you, to always make you happy.

maybe that’s why you left him there with nothing more than a squeeze to his hand and a “i’m so sorry,”. it was easier than looking into those beautiful eyes and tell him no. easier than watching his heart (with your initials on it) shatter.

—

and so you continue on with life. soulessly, you suppose, but every day keeps coming whether or not you want it to.

you keep checking your phone. it doesn’t even make sense why, because he’s probably too embarrassed and upset to text you. and he has every right to be upset at you right now. you left him when you got scared and haven’t even tried to say sorry, much less give him a proper response since that day. he has every right to be pissed at you.

and the shitty part is you know he’s not. because he’s taerae. because he was never mad at you. not when you bugged him when he tried to study. not when you barely worked during your library meetups. not when you were late and not when you were rude to him when you first had to start working together.

he’s never been mad at you and you know every time you walk past him, he stops to look at you, hoping you’ll turn around, and the fact that you don’t is breaking him even more. all you know is that if he uses those puppy eyes on you one more time, all your resolve will crack.

not falling in love was your main goal during college. years of being alone, part by choice and part by circumstance, made it so you felt you were better off by yourself. it’s hard to want other people when you’re not used to feeling wanted, and being in love just seems so scary.

were you in love with taerae? that was the real question, wasn’t it?

because he wasn’t that close of a friend. you had barely known he was more than an npc a few weeks ago, and you didn’t really know him that well. he was an enigma, a being you knew existed but nothing beyond his existence. and he wasn’t particularly charming. he was awkward. he was dorky. he didn't dress that well. he was really passionate about things and those things completely consumed him. he initially seemed like an anti romantic up until now, too focused on his passions and life to even think about love.

but every time he had said a dumb joke, you laughed. every time he tried to impress you with how cool he was, sure, it was kinda dorky, but you were impressed. and when he smiled at you, it felt like the world was okay in that instant. he gave you his jacket when he was cold once, he got your coffee before your study session once, and he cheered you on.

maybe you did love him, but he must have given you no other option. nothing else you could do besides helplessly watching as he fundamentally changed who you were.

was it so bad to be in love with taerae? he’s beyond kind and has endless good will to give the world. and of course it was scary to be in love, but taerae wasn’t scary. he wouldn’t break your heart, he’d give you peace of mind and comfort.

—

nothing sways you to talk to him quite like another person trying to flirt with him does. they’re attractive, a little mysterious, and intriguing from the get-go- if taerae’s crush on you was indicative of a type, they’d be his perfect match.

they’re so clearly into him, you wonder if you looked like that when you hung out with him. maybe passerbys thought you were a couple before you were even friends.

and he’s so clearly letting them flirt. he’s not making moves, but taerae doesn’t make moves like that. he wants to move slower than that. he doesn’t want to get into their pants, he wants them to romance him. he wants to feel courted. you’re not sure what you did to romance him, or how exactly your attitude made him feel courted.

and it’s so hard to watch him be flirted with because you were the one who left him there. that could be you right now, but it’s not. taerae is letting someone else flirt with him and letting someone else tell him jokes and smiling that bright smile at someone else. that’s what really hurts.

but you let them be while you jealously sip your coffee, talking to your friend sitting next to you.

“you need to talk to him,” they say, “you need to tell him about your feelings. even if you’re scared. he deserves honesty and you deserve to be happy.”

and they’re right. you know they are. friends tend to be right about this kind of stuff.

and it takes all day to build up the courage. the second you think you could do it and make it out alive, you run over to his dorm room. it’s across campus, and you really could have just walked, but that means more time left alone with your thoughts, which is a big no no right now.

—

it’s early in the evening, but even still you’re grateful that junhyeon took pity on you and took you to his dorm room that he shares with taerae. he left you guys alone to ‘talk’ he says with a smirk. if only you were sneaking in for something fun like that. and not to pour your heart out onto his floor and just hope that he’ll be okay with cleaning up the mess.

“taerae!” you say as you burst into the room, locking the door as soon as junhyeon annoyingly shouts, “you're welcome!”. he looks up like a deer in headlights from his desk to see you tired, out of breath, holding the door against junhyeon until he gives up. he furrows his brows in confusion.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he asks, "what's wrong? did someone say something?" he's got this look of protectiveness in his eyes. you wonder briefly if he thinks someone hurt your feelings and you came running to him for comfort. it's charming.

you shake your head, “i made a mistake and i came to fix it,” you say, that look in his eyes coming right back. like you’re back in that moment at the library. like it’s that fateful day again, with light wind in the forecast and pollen in the air. you remember nothing but how beautiful kim taerae looked and how painful it felt to run away.

“i’m listening..” he says, trying to get you to continue, to say your side of everything, because you’re lost in thought and forgetting that he’s standing right in front of you.

you sigh, thinking maybe it’s best to back out, turning around to try the door. hopefully, junhyeon didn’t put a chair outside to keep you trapped so you could do 'things'. you almost commit to leaving, telling taerae you didn't have anything to say at all. it was easier than facing him. that’s when you see it.

“what’s this?” you ask, pointing to the new bracelet in his pile of usual jewelry.

“oh… my friend just got that for me, actually. i don’t think you’ve met that friend yet,” he says.

“was it the friend in the courtyard?” you ask, looking up at him. he can’t decipher the look in your eyes, but he nods. you’re half expecting a ‘how did you know i was in the courtyard?’ but you know he’s not going to pry like that.

“taerae, i-” you start to say, and he looks up again, that hopeful look in his eyes. if you were a better person, you would have noticed how he looked at you the first time and never, ever let someone hurt him. even yourself.

but you weren’t that person. you’ll learn to be that person now, though. his pretty smile depended on it.

“i’m so sorry for leaving you there,” you say, getting right into it, “i’m sorry i never gave you a proper response to what you told me, and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to gather my thoughts. i’m so sorry, i feel horrible for how you must have felt when i left after you said all of that.”

“it’s okay,” he tells you. it’s not and you both know it, “you don’t have to feel the same about me. that was my fault for falling for you and coming on so strong about my feelings. you weren’t ready for it and i scared you. i was in the wrong.”

and it hurts to know he’s still going to apologize after all of this. he’s too kind and too pure of heart.

the bracelet comes back to your mind. and you have no right to be jealous because that person did nothing wrong. they were honestly probably a good distraction for him while you were being a coward. but the bracelet, a marker of something of theirs being on his wrist. the thought left a disgusting feeling in your stomach. it was clear in that moment exactly how you felt.

you come closer to him, suddenly emboldened by the jealousy of a gift another suitor got him and the fact that he was so wrong in his assumption of how he felt. he takes a step back when you get a little too close, like he’s nervous. not scared, but timid about what’s going on. his breath hitches when you look down at his lips like you could devour him. you were so obvious.

“taerae,” you say, and one last time, he looks up at you with doe eyes, “i thought i didn’t have feelings for you. and then i watched myself break your heart. i knew right there and then that these emotions couldn’t have been caused by anything other than me having feelings for you. i didn’t want to admit it, to you or myself, but…” you trail off, forgetting the last words of your sentence when his eyes find your lips, like he wants to have you now, finally knowing there’s shared emotions there, “i thought i didn’t feel anything romantic for people at all, like i was soulless, and you proved me wrong.”

“...why did you run?”

“i was scared. i’ve always been afraid to fall in love. i kept thinking, ‘what if he broke my heart?’. i realized how dumb it sounded because… it’s just so unlike you,” you smile at him, seeing all the innocence and kindness in his eyes, and wonder how you ever could have felt scared to fall for him, “and i saw them flirt with you. i told myself i couldn’t be jealous, but it’s hard to not be. i wanted you first, kim taerae. i know it’s not up to me, but they couldn’t have you. i couldn’t let that happen.”

“...come take me then,” he says, still staring at your lips. he really won’t make the first move, will he? you smile to yourself as you step closer, pressing your lips to his briefly, pulling away, and then again, just… not so briefly this time. he pulls away first because lord knows you couldn’t have, “so what happened to ‘i never wanna fall in love’?”

“i didn’t want this initially, you know. falling for you was never a choice,” you say. he laughs with all his chest.

“such an anti-romantic. glad i could turn you,” he smiles, “i’m just happy, in all your hatred of romance and pickiness for people, you picked this loser.”

oh taerae, you’re not a loser. you’re just in love.

#kim taerae #zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #taerae fic #taerae #taerae x reader

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syrena-del-mar · 8 months

Text

Very Rarely Do Men Know How to Be Altogether Good or Altogether Wicked

The last five minutes of today's episode left my mouth gaping, it really felt like I was watching a catastrophic accident happen in front of me and I just couldn't look away.

I wasn't completely sure on how Sand was going to learn about Ray and Mew's history, but I sure wasn't expecting that Ray's feelings would be exposed in such a volatile way. Maybe I’m in the minority here, I’m not exactly sure because I’m seeing a mixed bag of reactions, but I don’t necessarily agree that Sand ever needed to find out about Ray’s feelings for Mew. Much less from Boston.

This is partially going to be a bit of a continuation of my thoughts that Boston has a Machiavellian personality, followed up with SandRay's relationship becoming the unsuspecting 'victim'. Again, I'll be using pulling from Machiavelli's The Prince, but I'm also using his work Discourses on Livy. [Title credit to ch. 27 of Discourses]

Boston, still the Machiavellian 'Prince'

“Another difficulty to be added to the one mentioned above is that a state that becomes free creates for itself enemies rather than friends.”

― Niccolò Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy

Let me be upfront, I don't hate Boston, I actually enjoy the chaos he brings, but he's a fascinating character to break down and really analyze his actions. The last five minutes was, in my opinion, the most chaos that he has caused out in the open. This was never a situation of Boston 'saying what needed to be said.' This was Boston seeing an opportunity to take control of someone and doing so by unfairly outing Ray's feelings. I, again, stand by the idea that Boston is not a narcissist, but rather a Machiavellian personality type. This doesn't make him a 'villain'; Only Friends does a good job at showing that there are no villains in real life, just incredibly shitty people. Boston is simply a dick, who chooses to play with his friends to feel a sense of control when he doesn't have it. Has he ever cared for his friends? Does he keep them around simply for convenience? Hard to say. That doesn't make him evil, it just makes him a first-class jackass.

In my post where I had stated that he was more of a Machiavellian rather than narcissist, I came to the conclusion that, 'In his viewpoint, he is the kingpin, even in his group of friends, because he believes that he's the one that controls how his friends move since he knows how Mew is developing feelings for Top and is aware of Ray's feelings for Mew.' This time around, he practically admits it right after purposefully revealing Ray's feelings for Mew, "I just want to keep track of my best friends' romantic moments.' Boston hoards information so that he can throw it in people's faces when it fits him the best, there's no 'good intentions' on his keeping tabs on his friends.

Boston knows that TopMew are going to sleep together, they're serious and he's out of the running. Is it simply ego or is it because of self-interest? Whatever the catalyst is, he essentially has nothing holding him back anymore. He's seeing his "friends" getting "serious", while he's out there dealing with known (and unknown) filming of one-night stands he had being used as revenge porn. That'd hurt and anger anyone, but from what has been shown, Boston thrives off of control and so having his sex life used against him would feel like an even bigger blow. They're minor events that are snowballing and Boston likely needs to feel that control again. It's why he pushes Nick down without a second thought when Nick is trying to pull him away (opposed to how Ray lets Sand pull him back). So he claims that control back, he deliberately reveals what he knows, purposefully taking Ray down with him. While he may be feeling like shit, at least he'll be better off than Ray, who's left to pick up the pieces.

Sand and Ray, the intentional destruction of the 'kingdom'

“In general you must either pamper people or destroy them; harm them just a little and they’ll hit back; harm them seriously and they won’t be able to. So if you’re going to do people harm, make sure you needn’t worry about their reaction.” ― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

Yes, Sand and Ray are in a “situationship.” Yes, they’re constantly getting both physically and emotionally closer. Yes, Sand is developing feelings for Ray (arguably vice versa too). But that’s it. They started off as friends with benefits and while they’ve been shifting around, neither one has fully crossed that line. There was no defined area in the relationship, at least not before the implosion. They’re barely getting to know each other, Sand even calls Ray out because he knew that Ray had never noticed him before, not in a way other than just the Bar Performer.

Ray is working through who he is without Mew, without his crush on Mew. He's come to the realization that while he put Mew as his #1 for many years, he's knows he's not that for Mew, and is slowly coming to the realization that he may have never been. These are his feelings to work out and his alone. Sand and Ray are first and foremost friends, as they had agreed upon and they happen to hook up often. This was what they agreed upon. Even if one or both of them are catching feelings, it does not mean that Ray has an automatic obligation to come clean to Sand.

Arguably, Boston was unaware of this set up, but honestly he didn't need to know. This was not his business, Boston didn't suddenly spill the fact that Ray has had feelings for Mew for years to look out for Sand. No, this was an intentional hit on Ray, where he was positive that it would hurt. Boston has repeatedly used Ray's feelings for Mew for his own convenience (Exhibit A: Meddling at the pool party), whether it be to get Ray to react in a certain way or to have a punching bag. He knew how defensive and reactive Ray would get when he brought up RayMew's kiss and supposed sex (was this ever confirmed?) that they had.

Boston speaks in definite presumptions when he talks about others, he does this to Top and he did it to Ray. He spins realities to how he sees fit and with the confidence that he speaks in, he makes others believe him. It's why Mew never questioned that Top is accustomed to sleeping around and didn't think that Top really wanted anything more than sex, because that's what Boston specifically told him that Top was like. It's why now Sand believes that he has no hour in Ray's life, even when Ray gives him the opening to ask more, because Boston purposefully spoke in definite terms. Even the most secure person would be left feeling unsure and unbalanced.

So when Sand, who knows that their relationship is based on being friends with benefits, is confronted with words from Ray's supposed friend who explicitly states that Ray is in love with Mew and that he's being used as a rebound, what else can he do but believe that?

What little trust and rapport that they had started to build up has come crumbling down. They're frantically gathering the pieces of a 'kingdom' that has been turn into dust, the aftermath of the Prince's wrath. It's why Ray scrambles for the bottle and it's why Sand shuts down. How can they react to what Boston did, when they're struggling to salvage the little remnants left behind of what was supposed to be a blossoming relationship?

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amuseoffyre · 1 year

Text

Just thinking about the importance of names in the show and the fact that Stede always refers to Ed as Blackbeard in front of the crew, even though he always calls him Ed to his face.

The only people that I can recall him speaking about Blackbeard with and calling him Ed are Mary and Calico Jack. With CJ, it only happens because he mistakes CJ for Ed when he’s relieving himself and continues to use it to make a point.

Historically, using first names was a privilege reserved for your peers in Stede’s social class, which is a whole tasty nomnomnom of Stede’s acceptance of Ed as his equal from the word go.

However, what I really want to look at are the rare occasions when Stede full-named Ed, mostly to his face but once... not so much.

“Edward! Everything all right?” - coming to find him after the incident with the French captain and realising the French captain got under his skin.

“Edward! Put that away! I’m serious - stand. down. You’re in over your head. These are my people. I’ll deal with it.” - again, when Edward is clearly upset and preparing to go full Blackbeard on the party ship

“Edward! You all right?” - after the fuckery sends Ed into a panic attack, then once again when he breaks through the door and immediately switches back to a softer “Ed” when he takes in Ed’s distress.

“How was your day... Edward?” - when he’s alone and miserable in his family home

The three times he address Ed directly as Edward, it’s moments when Ed is upset to the point that Stede can recognise it. Let’s be real - Stede is Not Good at reading emotions and it’s only when Ed’s reactions are actually expressed aloud and physically - the rage at the French captain, pulling the gun at the party, the sobbing reaction to the fuckery - that he can recognise something is severely amiss.

In those moments, instead of using the shortened name, the friendly buddy name, Stede using the full name feels like an acknowledgement that something serious is happening.

Each time he uses it, he’s realised Edward is upset and is stepping in to offer some kind of emotional support, whether that means explaining that yes, posh people are passive aggressive bastards or promising to deal with the people that have upset him.

I do find it interesting that in the bathtub scene, he uses Edward from outside the door, then again when he gets into the room and then, when he sees exactly how distressed Ed is, he sinks down beside him and softens his voice and reverts to the more personal and intimate “Ed”, his voice soft and concerned. This isn’t like the times before when Ed was angry, he seems to have realised. This is something else, something where Ed needs less of a grown-up-to-grown-up address and more of his friend being there for him.

And of course, we have the scene with the orange when Stede is back in Barbados.

Hello, I shall be over here sobbing that while Stede and Ed would be knocking elbows on the ship, Stede in Bridgetown sits at the far end of his table, exactly as he does with Mary, and refers to Ed by his full name, stiffly polite and formal. Because that’s how things are done here. That is how he will do them.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd thinkie thoughts #stede bonnet

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comradekatara · 3 months

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In your modern au who in the gang goes to college/grad school and what subjects do they study? would they end up at schools close to home or go far away? How do there relationships change after highschool and with people moving away?

okay wow that’s a great question but also. a lot.

aang is a year below katara so his top choice school is just. the school katara goes to. it’s small and affordable and he studies philosophy and religion (but also takes any sort of fun elective offered to him) and joins a lot of clubs and makes a lot of friends and generally just has a nice time. he and katara overlap for three years but after she graduates they still live together, so he basically sees her every day anyway. it’s nice :)

katara genuinely considers not going to college but then she gets a sports scholarship she’d be a fool to reject so she’s like “fine, i’ll go, but i’m gonna phone it in the entire time.” she assumes that college will basically just be like high school, yet another prison where she will be forced to do math against her will. but she actually finds that she kind of enjoys some of her classes, and she can devote way more time to sports, and azula isn’t there (a weight has been lifted off her shoulders truly), and she actually meets a whole group of people who don’t find her intimidating and abrasive, but instead share her interests and actually organize with her. also, the fact that sokka isn’t there means that she doesn’t constantly have to compare herself to an impossible standard, and she finds that she actually enjoys learning when she gets to go at her own pace. and in fact…. she’s actually a great writer???? and really enjoys theory and philosophy and criticism and history and sociology and literature????? and she might actually be really fucking smart????? she graduates with honors. but there’s absolutely no way she’s pursuing grad school lmao. everyone knows that shit is a scam.

sokka goes to princeton for undergrad because, and i quote, “it’s nearby.” full ride, obviously. he double majors in physics and engineering, and also accidentally fulfills an art history minor without even noticing. everyone assumes that he’ll get a phd (at least one), but katara keeps insisting that grad school is a scam and so is the ivy league. and it’s not even that sokka necessarily disagrees with her, he just thinks that those are bold words coming from the girl who fell for a pyramid scheme. twice.

zuko goes to a small liberal arts college for undergrad and spends years attempting to justify his choice of going to a smaller, slightly less prestigious school by majoring in something dignified and respectable, like econ or business or engineering. none of which he is any good at. but eventually, after enough time spent beyond ozai’s purview, zuko just goes “fuck it” and double majors in theater and classics. his focus is on ancient greek drama. he then does a poetry mfa wherein he attempts to write on earth we’re briefly gorgeous without just rewriting on earth we’re briefly gorgeous (many such cases). he complains about his program constantly and how fake and pretentious it all is, but anyone who knows him can tell that it’s clearly the most fun he’s ever had.

suki doesn’t go to college. she figures that there’s no point in blowing money she doesn’t have and wasting precious valuable years of her time getting a fancy little bachelor’s degree she’ll never use for a job that doesn’t actually require one. and she doesn’t have any adult figures in her life to convince her that college is necessary (although sokka does spend a full week going “but are you sure…?” before suki realizes that she can just shut him up forever by claiming she can’t afford it). she continues to teach at the dojo, but because she basically already lives in her truck, she’s always driving over to princeton to crash in sokka’s dorm. she spends a lot of time just hanging out in the library while he does work, and finds that she doesn’t even need to go to classes to learn new things by herself. it’s funny how a formal education can make learning seem so much less interesting than it actually is. if she had actually gone to college, she probably would’ve spent the entire time blowing off classes and doing as little work as possible, but since she has no incentive to learn, she actually does. by the time sokka has graduated, suki is basically qualified to practice medicine, could tell you the entire history of the inca empire, and is basically an expert in mycology. and it didn’t cost a cent.

toph considers suki an inspiration, and by the time she graduates, she is already so estranged from her parents that she also has the agency to just blow off that whole thing. she moves in with sokka and mai and just follows them around. she sits in on their lectures whenever she feels like it (they claim she is mai’s little sister who is visiting her), and otherwise just kind of lounges about. occasionally sokka will be like “you know you could’ve just… gone to this school, right??? you’re literally a child prodigy and your parents are crazy rich.” to which toph just shrugs like “yeah……but nah.”

mai goes to princeton with sokka. it wasn’t even her top choice school, but once she realized that it’s where sokka was going, she couldn’t think of anywhere else that she would rather be. they’re roommates since freshman year and are basically inseparable. everyone assumes they’re dating, but sokka’s like “nah she’s gay, she’s just really clingy :)” which mai hates because he’s totally ruining her street cred. she’s a cs major, but she basically accumulates the credits for a math minor, a physics minor, and an english minor because all the cs classes are so easy for her (she first taught herself how to code when she was like six). sokka somehow convinces her to join his physics program for grad school, but after a year she drops out because she finds it so miserable. they continue living together, of course, while mai gets really into making esoteric indie games. zuko doesn’t really understands how video games work, but she still bounces her ideas off him because he’s the most ruthless critic she knows.

ty lee goes to college because it’s the sort of thing a girl from a decently respectable family does, but she’s pretty envious of suki’s lifestyle and wishes she could just blow off the entire thing. she goes to a decent school, one that appears acceptable on resumes but not so elite that it will raise any employer’s standards too high; she enjoys being underestimated. being in an entirely new environment gives her the opportunity to test out new personas free of consequence, and eventually she realizes that she’s kind of wasting her talents by pretending to be dumber than she is, so she actually applies herself and does really well. but then she gets bored of applying herself because now everyone expects too much of her and she misses when a B was considered a good grade. she’s technically a dance major because it’s the only thing she does consistently across three years (she graduates early), but she goes through different phases where she’s really into various fields, including but not limited to: abnormal psych, quantum physics, philosophical ethics, north african literature, microbiology, and women’s rugby. she keeps in touch with azula, mai, and suki, but she also just goes through phases of avoiding contact with all her former friends entirely. it’s fun to be aloof.

and last but certainly not least, azula goes to harvard for undergrad, and then harvard law. in fact, there is no other school azula could ever go to. even if she had lived on the other side of the globe, and not new jersey (or as she likes to call it, “manhattan”), azula would still go to harvard. she truly believes that it is the only school on earth capable of withstanding her towering intellect. anyone who found her insufferable in high school is in for a rude surprise once they realize that within a semester, harvard has somehow made her ten times worse. she’s technically pre-law, but she also studies pre-med and engineering, just in case. which is far too much for any one human to handle, and she ends up suffering a nervous breakdown during junior year where she eats nothing but cheetos for a week straight and tries to cut her own bangs with a pair of kiddie scissors. zuko and sokka go to cambridge to stage an intervention (mai and ty lee were too busy washing their hair that weekend) and help her out. you can tell it’s bad because she actually agrees to go to therapy. eventually she gets through it and decides to take a gap year before law school. she spends her gap year as a paralegal at a highly prestigious firm, and within the first couple years of graduating law school, she makes junior partner there. and they never speak of the cheetos and uneven bangs incident ever again.

in terms of who keeps in touch with whom, obviously mai, sokka, suki, and toph still hang out all the time after high school. mai and sokka are roommates for their entire twenties basically, and toph and suki pretty much also live with them. mai and sokka move to new york after princeton. and after zuko graduates, he also moves in with them. aang and katara sort of resist the idea of living in a big city, and instead decide to travel the world after aang graduates. but then when they go to visit sokka & co. katara realizes that it’s always secretly been her lifelong dream to work at a really cute little overpriced coffeeshop in brooklyn, and so she and aang get an apartment in like. red hook or something. ty lee actually moves to california, so they all assume they won’t see her often, but she flies back every time one of her sisters has a birthday, so they actually run into her pretty frequently. eventually she moves back to the east coast, and pretty soon after that she and mai uhaul together. none of them really hear from azula except for mai and ty lee, who are in a semi-active groupchat with her. but she and zuko reconnect after ozai’s funeral, and she gradually befriends the rest of the gaang, even if she never quite gets along with katara. so yeah, there are a few years where most of them don’t really talk to one another, but eventually they do manage to reconnect and stay in each other’s lives. they do all make other friends though. god could you imagine.

#averyho #asks #the gaang and #modern au #this was a fun one #the inherent comedy of being from new jersey. etc. etc.

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

Sanji Gets Rejected (ANGST/FLUFF)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

WC: 2k

CW: Angst, Rejection, Kissing, Fluff at the End

There he is, doing it again;

“You’re so beautiful, Maam!”

Another random woman he tried to woo on another random island, this one didn’t just push off Sanji this time though, she toyed with him. You guys were docked for a few days to recoup, restock, and relax a bit after escaping another long fight with some marines.

You all went your separate ways, and in that you kept watch of Sanji. It wasn’t intentional but you managed to always bump into him and the woman almost Everytime you stopped somewhere.

“Y/N-SAAAANNNN MEET —“

“Abby.”

She was a beautiful taller woman, she had a very disgusting attitude though, you’ve seen her around a few times and you could tell she used her looks to get what she wanted from men and she most definitely did it with Sanji. You tried warning him about her hopefully she wasn’t working someone that could be hunting you all down but he of course, didn’t listen.

"Sanji we should head back to the Merry soon--"

"BUT Y/NNNN" His voice a pitch higher as he twirled around the woman, looking as unimpressed as ever at the poor boy, "CAN I JUST STAY A FEW MORE HOURS WITH THE LOVELY ABBY--"

"Actually, you guys own A boat right?” Abby walked closer towards you, you stood back a little with a crooked face at her invasion of interest, but before you could decline her Sanji insisted she come for dinner.

“Ji, I—“

“Well of course I’d love to come see what you people—“

“You people?” You Tilt your head at her holding your hip, the hell she mean by that?.

“Yes. How you people live. I never Seen a pirate ship up close and personal. You’d show me. Right Sanji?”

He melted into her hot touch like ice when she caressed his cheek. You groan rolling your eyes at how naive Sanji could be.

The day goes by and you really could not wait until Abby left. She was rude, demanding, arrogant, and nobody even liked her.

She insulted you, Nami, and Robin,

Taunted Chopper and Usopp

Flirted with Zoro behind Sanji’s back

And even mocked Luffy.

But Sanji didn’t even seem to notice because she had him wrapped around her stupid finger.

“When is she leaving?” Nami grumbled in your ear, you both watched Abby and Sanji in the kitchen. He tried showing her some new moves he learned to hold multiple plates at once, but she couldn’t care less.

You on the other hand loved when he did that.

It was finally time for dinner and it was somewhat awkward considering Everytime someone spoke Abby had something to say.

“Oh, Robin I got that tea you liked.” You causally said to her and she smiled back at you across the table.

“Thank—“

“You know I never pegged you pirates to have a level of class about you all….interesting. Especially you—um…uh…”

“That’s y/n-san, my love!” Sanji spoke and came over to take her plate to clean. “She’s one of the classiest women I’ve met!”

“….could have fooled me with that outfit.”

You almost spoke out of turn until you felt Zoro’s hand on your shoulder and he shook his head at you.” She isn’t worth it” he mouthed to you.

After dinner everybody was on the deck doing their own thing, and you and Zoro were trash talking Abby of course.

You more than him though.

“And she had the fucking nerve to say—“

“Why don’t you just tell the damn love cook the truth.”

“What? You don’t think I have? The stupid bitch—“

“Not that…you telling Sanji how much you liked him.”

You felt your soul drop to your feet. Zoro didn’t have a care in the world when he said that, all he did was take a sip of his sake and stared at you, scoffing.

“It’s pretty evident you like the pervert. Why? I don’t know….I’m better looking anyways..”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just—-Stop making it so damn obvious you liked if if you don’t have the guts to tell him. We are leaving the day after tomorrow so after this we never have to see her again—“

“NO!?”

Everybody turned to the commotion in the middle of the ship. It was of course Abby and Sanji , and Abby making a big deal over something.

“No way I won’t join? “ Abby huffed at Sanji’s request. “The pirate life isn’t for me. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“…oh…well…I leave in 2 days so…maybe before you leave you can…um…send me off right?”

Abby chuckled at him cupping his cheek, seeing the blood trickle from his nose and his eyes popping out of his face, “y-you’re so beautiful, Abby!”

“Mmhm…so you want me to send you off right?…like…a kiss?”

Sanji nearly exploded, but tried to keep his composure, “y-y-yes! I mean—if you would grant me the blessing perhaps?”

Hearing this conversation was absurd. You didn’t even realize your face was shaped in the look of disgust causing Zoro to snicker at you, “If she bothers you that much then just say something.”

“Say what jackass, ‘hey Sanji don’t kiss her because I want you.’”

“So you do want the love cook—“

“IRRELEVANT!”

You both stopped your bickering to see more of Sanji’s antics, moreso him acting like a complete love struck idiot handing her some roses and a drink,

“Here you go, my love! I got you these from that garden we walked past! And then! And then I made you your favorite! Remember? At the restaurant—“

“Yes. Sanji. I remember….you really are like a little lap dog…” Abby pat his head and once again…more swooning

“I’D BE YOUR LOYAL DOG OF COURSE!” He sung with his heart eyes almost bursting out his head

“And I guess a doggy gets a treat huh.”

You almost didn’t want to stare but you just couldn’t look away. Abby leaned into Sanji and he blushed, eyes closed so prepared for a kiss until.

“Oops.”

You could hear everybody gasping. It was always as if time was still,

“Wha—“

Abby poured the cold drink over Sanji’s head, running not only his hair, but his expensive suit. Right after she throws the flowers in his face to shoulder bump him,

“Nothing personal, but it’s foolish of you to think I’d actually give you; a poor pirate a time of day…I’m actually a little insulted by it.”

Everybody stared in shock, even Zoro seeing her leave off of the Going Merry.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU CAN’T DO THAT TO MY FRIEND—!”

Luffy went to go run at her, but Zoro and Nami ran and held him back because they both knew Luffy would have easily done another Vivi moment for how rude she has been all evening.

You however walked over to Sanji, arms out and head down, broken glass and petals by his feet.

You felt rage enough rage in your body to just lash out of that stupid stank, but your main priority was Sanji right now.

“San—-“

Your hand touched his drenched shoulder, he didn’t say many words he just took off his jacket and bent down,

“Watch out, Y/N…you may step on some glass.” He looked up at you, eyes just glossing in tears, with a fake smile, “We don’t want you to have another accident again right?”

Your heart was shattered for him watch him fake a smile while on the ground, you couldn’t help but to take his arm and walk him to the bathroom to get him cleaned off as everybody tried calming Luffy down.

You say him on the toilet and took off any remaining flowers and branches in his hair, his skin was sticky from the drink and so you wiped his face with a towel.

“You don’t—-“

“No.” You protested, cleaning him off, “Let me do this.”

Sanji didn’t resist, he sat quietly for a moment. You wished you knew what he was thinking right now so you’d find the right words to say.

“She…she didn’t mean it..”

You paused for a moment. Of course he’d say that. Sighing you decided not to talk back and let him continue to defend her unforgivable actions.

“I was coming on to strong. Maybe if I didn’t —“

“Please stop. Sanji. Please?”

….

“It’s not your fault, Ji..” you combed your fingers through his hair to take out anything else that could have been in it. “I understand why you’d want to excuse her actions but it wasn’t your fault it was hers. She doesn’t deserve a guy like you. You have a kind heart Sanji. Just…sometimes it can be blinded by …women. And I know…you told me how you were raised. Which is why I will never be angry at you for that. I just wish you’d be more..aware of the red flags some women can be. I’m sorry this happened, don’t be embarrassed okay? It—-Sanji.”

You picked up his chin and saw his lip quiver and his eyes teary, dammit you hate when he cries. You squat in front of him and wipes his tears, “It’s okay…it’s—“

“I thought she was going to be my first kiss.”

You blink at him, and he immediately looks away in shame, “no! No! Don’t be embarrassed! Please, Sanji—It’s okay to not have a first kiss! Look at me…”

He does, your thumb on his short stubble and traveling to the corner of his eye. He looked so much like a child you wanted to just scoop him up and hug him all day . “It’s okay to not have your first kiss yet…but when you have it….it should be with someone special y’know?..not some stupid no ass bitch that’s trynna use you.”

Finally, Sanji breaks out into a chuckle, you missed his smile already, it was a pretty sweet silence between you both until you kept staring into his pretty blue-grey eyes, and his in yours. It wasn’t long until your smiles faded and you leaned into him to kiss him softly, immediately feeling his cheeks heating, but you quickly pulled back.

“I’m…I’m so sorry.” You stand up straight touching your lips. “I’m sorry that—that was so wrong of me I—“

Sanji stands to Cup your cheek and kiss you back, he’s a bit shaky and his hands are sticky and clammy but you hold onto his before looking back at him sighing in relief and touch his forehead with yours.

“You didn’t have to kiss me…”

“But I wanted to…for a long time actually.”

Sanji was actually in shock, he stared at you wide eyed, but before he had a blood fest you walked over to turn on the shower for him.

“How ‘bout we um…finish this when you get out of the shower huh?”

“…Ah! Um..yes! Yes of course! I’ll be right out!…thank you, my love.”

You smile at him before leaving, as he showers you await in the kitchen with everybody else and explain to not EVER mention what happened again to him.

“Why? Or did you fuck him to make him fee—OW!”

You smile and wink at Nami for hitting the idiot swordsman in the head and his stupid comment.

Once Sanji comes back he is actually in a better mood, he looks lighter and happier, but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

The whole time he bathed he kept touching his lips thinking of you. Abby was far off of his mind and you were now in the forefront .

Late that night Sanji finished dinner and dessert for everybody but asks for you to stay in the kitchen with him. You felt a bit nervous, but that wasn’t until he sat beside you and hugs you tightly.

“I never got to thank you properly.” He says in your ear with a small peck, “You’re too kind….I’m glad you were my first.”

That night you both stayed up not just kissing, but talking too, he still swooned a bit whenever you reached to kiss him on the corner of his lips but the whole night went so smoothly, you never saw such a relaxed side to him. And you loved it.

Little did you know the impact you made for such a small gesture to the little love cook.

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