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yuzukult · 3 years

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your blog so much! I recently got ankle lateral ligament reconstruction done, and as an athlete, it sucks so bad. I watched my basketball team play yesterday, and it felt really horrible to watch them lose by one point in overtime when I know I would have made a difference if I were on the court... I know you have lots of asks and prompts, but if you have the time and want to, could you possibly hurt me more than I’m already hurting with some angsty ankle injury stuff😩 like maybe Cap watching the Lions lose without him.

Thank you for all the awesome fics you write! Your blog is amazing!

Anon, this ask really struck a chord with me and I wanted to do it justice as best I could--going through a sports injury like that is the worst feeling in the world, and watching your teammates play without you just adds salt to the wound. Sending all the love and healing vibes your way, okay? Please keep me updated on how you're feeling if you feel comfortable <3

Combined with an ask for pre-Coops and Sirius' photo of Remus! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for canonical injury and mentioned scars (Remus)

Sirius felt a nudge at his arm and his irritation flared, but he did not take his eyes off the game. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as James missed yet another blatant pass. There’s three.

The next nudge was more insistent.

“What?” he snapped, sparing half a glance to his left and feeling his stomach swoop.

Remus raised his eyebrows and held the mouthguard out further. “Either put this in or unclench your jaw.”

You’re not my mother, Sirius almost snarked back, just to be even more of an asshole. He was cold from being at the rink without his gear, severely pissed off by the general bullshit happening on the ice, and the itch in the boot locked around his stupid fucked-up ankle was slowly driving him mad.

Remus offered the mouthguard again, and Sirius’ temper cooled by a few degrees at the soft encouragement on his face. Pretty, his brain supplied. He swallowed hard around his sudden dry mouth and shoved the plastic between his teeth, beating back the unruly emotions with a mental baseball bat. Nope. Not tonight. Focus on being angry.

Logan got distracted, and Finn paid the price as an enforcer slammed him against the boards; he bounced back immediately, but Sirius ground the mouthguard so hard it squeaked. “Tabarnak—”

“Come with me for a sec,” Remus said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the angry shouts of Lions fans.

Sirius shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to be in the heart of the fight, letting off some of the steam that had been building with no outlet for weeks. “Game’s not over.”

Remus pressed his lips together, but said nothing; Sirius’ throat constricted as he looked at the scoreboard. There may have been three full minutes left on the clock, but the Lions had already lost—unless they pulled a miracle out of their asses, this game would be a stain on their record. Or if they just let me play.

Sirius sighed through his nose. The urge had been growing stronger the longer he stayed cooped up and restless, banging at the walls of his brain and bringing headache after headache.

“Cap.” The hand on the back of his bicep was surprisingly gentle and he closed his eyes as Remus gave him a light tug. “Come on. We can at least be productive instead of sitting here and stewing.”

He smells nice. How does he always smell so nice? Sirius stood and followed Remus down the tunnel, not even bothering to force smiles for the people pounding on the glass partitions. Don’t focus on the game.

Focus on his shoulders, something close to his heart suggested. You like his shoulders.

He scrunched his nose up at the thought—if he dwelled on the smooth, strong curve of Remus’ upper back for any longer, he would start remembering the one time he saw them bare, covered in sweat with scars that shone like moonlight and—

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, snapping him back to reality. Sirius jumped and concern flickered over the golden planes of his face. “You’re twitchy tonight.”

“Just…” He made a vague, aborted motion toward the ice before continuing toward the PT room, though he did not miss the worried look Remus shot him. Fantastic, now I look like a dick and an idiot.

“What’s going on, Sirius?” The door clicked closed behind them and Remus leaned against it with his arms crossed loosely as Sirius limped over to the table and sat down, pulling the mouthguard out. He stared at the floor and the hunk of plastic—don’t think about how nice his voice sounds around your name. Don’t.

He shook his head; through the door, the sounds of the game were faint. “They’re better than this.”

“Yep.”

“They’re all going to be angry tomorrow, which makes them sloppy.”

“Probably.”

“Coach will be upset.”

“No question.”

“It’s the Badgers.”

Remus made a face. “I know, right?”

“They’re a good team, but—” He tightened his jaw again and looked away.

“But we’re better,” Remus finished for him.

“Yeah.” Silence fell between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being quiet around Remus was never uncomfortable, and Sirius was pathetically grateful for every scrap of it he could get. “I—the game would be different if I was out there.”

“Would it?”

“It would.” He had been going over every mistake for two and a half hours, placing himself in like a chess piece to stop the missed passes, fumbled pucks, and thoughtless plays. “They need me with them.”

The paper crinkled as Remus sat down next to him, and every one of Sirius’ senses went on high alert. “They need to you get better,” he said simply, those caramel-apple eyes making Sirius’ knees go weak. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

“Good.” There was no defensiveness or indignation in Remus’ voice—guilt snapped, a firecracker behind his teeth.

“Sorry.”

Remus smiled wryly. “When you’re around injured hockey players all day long, you get used to a little bit of bitchiness.”

“I’m not bitchy!” Sirius spluttered. The poorly-concealed amusement on Remus’ face made mortification heat his cheeks. “I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” The note of smug disbelief should not have been as attractive as it was. “Alright, lay down.”

Sirius swore he heard a few crackling noises as his brain short-circuited. “Quoi?”

“I’m not kneeling on freezing linoleum to check out your ankle, Cinderella,” Remus snorted. “Now get a wiggle on.”

“You have the strangest sayings,” he said as he laid back and stretched his leg out, bewildered and yet somehow relieved.

“And you—” Remus pulled the top buckle free. “—have no appreciation for the great American north.”

“I can take it off,” Sirius mumbled, feeling redness rise once again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The boot? I might not be a muscle-bound athlete, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple strips of Velcro.”

“No, it’s—doesn’t touching people’s feet freak you out? Like, the sweat and everything?”

“If it did, I’d have to find another profession, because I’m damp all the time from you fuckers and you all seem to have a habit of breaking things below the knee. Bend.”

Sirius complied, drawing his knee toward his chest. His bare foot looked weird in the bright lights, pale and still swollen, but Remus was as golden as ever. You can watch from afar, he conceded when the cute little furrow appeared on Remus’ forehead while he felt around the bone. Just for a little while. “Your hands are warm,” he said before he could stop himself.

Remus glanced up, and his small smile caused a flood of butterflies in Sirius’ stomach. “Thanks. They’re usually pretty cold, so I’m glad I’m not accidentally giving you foot hypothermia.”

“Is that real?”

“No,” Remus laughed. Sirius wished he could keep that sound forever. “How’s that feel?”

“Uh, fine.” He blinked a couple times to come back to himself as Remus put light pressure on the sole of his foot. “Still fine.”

“You’re a lot more flexible than before. Things are healing well.”

A loud buzzer went off outside—Sirius closed his eyes as disappointment and frustration fired up once more. The crowd wasn’t cheering. The windows weren’t shaking. He didn’t even want to look at the TV to check the score. I should be out there, he thought for the umpteenth time. I’m letting them down.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly as he worked through a few more exercises.

“Not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

Sirius wanted to believe him. “I’m the captain.”

“And you’re being responsible by doing this with me so you can heal faster.” People rushed past the door outside, but the PT room remained peaceful. Sirius stared at the plain ceiling and wished for a miracle. “They miss you.”

“Y’know, that’s not exactly making me feel better.”

“Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a solid two minutes, following Remus’ simple instructions without looking at him. He should have been out there with them, ankle be damned. It was basically healed anyway; they were just tying up loose ends, and maybe Remus needed to be a little less careful. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to ask a different question.”

“I’m just saying, it feels fine and—”

“Time’s up.” Remus let go of his foot and Sirius only spared a moment to mourn the loss of his comforting touch before he caught the stormy, mulish stubbornness that took the place of Remus’ concentration. “Sit.”

“I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Sirius dragged himself upright with a huff. Arguing with Remus Lupin was about as useful as arguing with a brick wall, and that was coming from someone who won the ‘Most Stubborn’ superlative at their last end-of-year party. “First of all, ankles are annoying and the soft tissue will still be damaged even if the bone is healed. Second, it’s my job to fix you up so your boys stop whining to me about healing you faster. And third, I’m not giving up on you.”

Sirius paused for a long moment. “What?”

“I’m not giving up,” Remus repeated. His jaw set and he made direct eye contact. “I would love nothing more than to kick Snape in the kneecaps and let you go out there as soon as you can stand on your own, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to make sure you’re ready to kick ass and take names no matter what that little shit was trying to do. So don’t you dare sit there and try to chicken out at the finish line, because I know you want this even more than I do.”

In his chest, Sirius heart was hammering like he had just run five miles. I’m not giving up on you. Sirius had never wanted to kiss him more. “Thank you.”

Remus softened with a slow breath. “We’re in this together, Sirius. You and me.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s get to work. Next time you play the Badgers, make ‘em regret this game.”

--------------------------------

Sirius walked back toward the locker room feeling rather nauseous. The whole team leaked their bad moods into the air—Arthur had barely looked at them before sending them home with a quiet “we’ll talk more tomorrow”, the equivalent of an arrow through Sirius’ heart. I need a pick-me-up, he thought as the rest of the guys trooped out in a melancholy raincloud. He fist-bumped each of them, per tradition, but their responses were weak at best.

Ice cream sounded good. Maybe a milkshake. Oh, who was he kidding, he needed a solid hug and something other than ice to look at. Not for the first time, he contemplated getting a dog, just so the house wouldn’t be empty and dark when he returned.

Laughter rang out ahead and Sirius inhaled sharply, letting the sound roll over him. “I’m not kidding!” Moody chuckled.

“Bullshit,” Remus countered, still snickering. “There is no way—”

“I’ve been around here longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus groaned, though Sirius could hear the smile in his voice even from around the corner. “You only bring it up every goddamn day.”

“Brat.”

Sirius entered the room just in time to see Remus playfully knock the side of his foot against Moody’s; both were grinning. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

Moody nodded to him. “Night, twelve.”

“A demain,” Sirius called, offering a slight smile as his eyes lingered on Remus. He was leaning back against the wall with stick tape in his hands—his hands, which never failed to make Sirius throw caution to the wind—and raised it in farewell. “See you, Loops. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Cap.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and slid his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets as Moody and Remus resumed their conversation. He wondered how long they usually stuck around, and if they would oppose him staying—he wouldn’t interrupt, but being around people who weren’t going through the five stages of grief already felt nice.

An idea struck as Remus’ laugh raised goosebumps on his arms once again. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped his phone out and snapped a picture before hurrying off toward his car. His breaths were shallow; that was such a creepy move, and surely one of them noticed—

No voices chased him. Nobody gave him strange looks. He waited until he was safely in the front seat of the car before unlocking his phone, and all the air in his lungs left in a rush.

The photo was perfect. It caught the lopsided tilt to Remus’ mouth, his slender-but-strong fingers, his long legs, the scrunch of his nose mid-laugh. Everything Sirius never let himself look at for long. He didn’t have much space left among the collection of paper memories on his dresser, but maybe if he put it in the back where nobody would see it unless they knew where to look…

He turned the car on. Later. He would print it out and deal with the taut rubber-band-ball of feelings later. Until then, he could settle for the imprint of Remus’ warmth taking away the pain in his ankle and the determination on his face as he promised to bring Sirius back from the personal hell he was living in. You and me, he had said, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to believe it.

#fanfic #my fic #sirius black #remus lupin #alastor moody #james potter #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #sweater weather #coops #injury #pre-coops #lumosinlove

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kindness-ricochets · 3 years

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I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

#six of crows #wylan van eck #autism #actually autistic

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ri-ahhh · 3 years

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can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

#here I go again with yet another friends to lovers lmao #dolan twins #Grayson Dolan #blurb #g blurb

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ghostgothgeek · 3 years

Text

Chaos.

Another for the Phic Phight! This one kinda combines two prompts and I had so much fun writing it! In this, Danny and Tucker don’t know Sam plays video games yet. 5,063 words.

"What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We´ve had a mutual crush on each other for years." Sam says angrily after finally confessing her love to him. But Danny´s heart was beating hard for someone else entirely. Prompt by phantomfana.

Danny wants to ask his crush to the upcoming school dance. Prompt by Rikaleeta.

-----

It was another long night of ghost hunting for Danny. Technus took up the first part of the night, trying to take over the park’s new security system. Tucker was fortunately still awake to help him out with that. Then Johnny and Kitty rolled in, but they weren’t looking for trouble, they just wanted a date night and swore they wouldn’t be a problem. Apparently Fridays were their days off for “everything but each other”. Danny was a romantic, but he didn’t know if this was sweet or nauseating. Ember had put up a good fight, though. He was proud he only had one injury to tend to. He had dodged most of her attacks, but she was still a pretty advanced ghost. And, of course, Danny had caught the Box Ghost six, count them, SIX times. How did he always manage to get out?! He wasn’t difficult to take down, he was just a pest.

Danny sighed as he sat down at his computer chair. It was only 12:30 am, and it was a Friday. He could sleep in tomorrow and he deserved at least a couple hours of fun. He logged into his online gaming account and saw Tucker was online. Figures. He pulled up the chat anyway.

Astrohaunt: Hey Tuck. Still up?

Technopedia: You know it. Chaos signed on about a half hour ago and I’m not passing up the opportunity.

Astrohaunt: Dude is so good it’s unreal!

Technopedia: He goes to our school, I tracked one of his IP addresses and he logged in at school a few times.

Astrohaunt: Tucker wtf. That’s creepy!

Technopedia: I just want to make sure Chaos is actually a kid and not Lancer again!

Astrohaunt: I still can’t wrap my mind around Lancer playing Doomed…

Technopedia: Same. But Chaos IP is different from Lancer, so we good. Unless more teachers play Doomed.

Astrohaunt: I hate you for putting that image into my brain.

Technopedia: Sorry dude. But quick come join before someone else gets Chaos.

Danny, Tucker, and Chaos had made a great team. Whenever Chaos was around, they were actually able to progress through the game. They played several rounds until Tucker was caught by his mom and was forced to sign off, but Danny and Chaos kept playing.

TeamChaos: Hey, what’s up?

Astrohaunt: Omg dude you’re so awesome.

TeamChaos: Ha, thanks. Gotta blow off steam somehow.

Astrohaunt: Tell me about it! Between Lancer’s three projects and midterms and...other stuff...this is my only time to actually chill. I’ve been so stressed!

TeamChaos: Same. I did finish one of the projects though. I’m always here if you need to talk, you know.

Astrohaunt: Wow, I may just take you up on that offer. I’ve had a rough night.

TeamChaos: Lay it on me.

And so Danny, sparing the ghost hunting details, stayed up chatting with Chaos until 5 am. He got along really well with the guy, they had a lot of similar interests. This was just the first of many up-all-night conversations they shared. After a few months, Danny felt a special connection with Chaos, and yet, he didn’t even know his name!

Astrohaunt: We’ve been talking all these months and I still don’t know your name. I’m Danny.

TeamChaos: Oh, thought you knew. It’s Sam!

Astrohaunt: Hey! One of my best friends is named Sam!

TeamChaos: You don’t say!!!

The next day at school, Danny pulled Tucker over to him, whispering, “Dude, help. I think I might be gay....”

“What?!” Tucker shouted.

“Quiet, Tuck!”

“Okay, well uh...why?” Tucker sent him a weird look and took a step back.

“No, not you. Chaos. I think I have a crush on Chaos.” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do! I never thought I’d be...you know. Chaos and I just have good conversations and he’s always there to listen to me when I need to vent. I thought maybe I found another best friend but...this is different. Chaos is so cool and I’m crushing and I don’t even know who he is or what he looks like! Or if he feels the same way! Maybe I’m just stupid and-”

“Dude, chill. You’re jumping too far ahead of yourself. Whichever way you, you know, swing...I’m still your best friend.” Tucker pulled out his PDA. “Let me see what I can find out. I know Chaos goes to our school.”

“Thanks, Tuck. As if being half ghost wasn’t hard enough! Oh, and he’s in our class, because he’s talked me through assignments and knows what they are and stuff. He’s almost as good as explaining things as Sam. Crap...Sam. Don’t tell her about this!” Danny started fidgeting.

“Well,” Tucker raised his eyebrows in surprise, “I can tell you with absolute certainty that Chaos is definitely a girl.”

“You found out who Chaos is?!”

“What, like it’s hard?” Tucker chuckled. “I traced the IP addresses she uses. I know who she is. So do you,” Tucker smirked, “It shocked me at first, but it makes total sense! And I can totally see why you like her.”

“Really?” Danny let out a breath in relief. “Okay that makes me feel a lot better...hey, maybe I can ask Chaos to the dance next Saturday!”

Tucker rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Go for it. Ask Sam. I’m almost positive she’ll say yes.”

“Okay, I will...wait, not Sam! Chaos!” Danny clarified. “Well, actually, I think Chaos told me her name was Sam. Ha, small world. I can’t wait to introduce Sam to Sam. I think they would really get along.”

Tucker busted out laughing, “Oh, dude. You go ahead and do that.” He left Danny standing there in the hallway, still laughing all the way to his next class.

Danny, a bit confused by Tucker’s laughter, shook his head and smiled to himself. Okay, good. He’d had enough identity crises to fill a lifetime. Chaos was definitely a girl. Now if he just knew Chaos returned his feelings, things might actually work out for him this time and he could actually have a girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Sam was having an internal debate of her own. Sitting in a class where the teacher couldn’t give two shits about what the students were doing, she had always used this class as her thinking time. Usually her thinking-about-Danny time. She nervously clicked her pen as she thought about recent events.

She and Danny spent so much time chatting online when they weren’t hanging out in person. Danny was a little bit more bold online, probably because he didn’t have to interact face-to-face or risk his pants falling down in public again. Online, they talked about everything. No topic was off limits. Plus, Sam felt like their friendship had only grown even stronger when they could chat online and not have to worry about blushing or getting teased by Tucker. Chatting online took away all the pressure and made it much easier to connect with Danny.

Danny hadn’t said anything yet, of course. He was probably scared. Hell, she was scared. She was already so in love with him, and getting closer online only further solidified that fact. She had never been in love before, and even though she hunts ghosts, this was more terrifying! She was fairly certain he returned her feelings, but both were too chicken to actually make that final step. They’ve been best friends forever. She didn’t want to mess up their already great dynamic or force Tucker to be the third wheel, though he did insist he was more than okay with that and encouraged them to finally get together.

Sam stopped clicking her pen as she suddenly remembered it was senior year. They hadn’t picked colleges yet, but whether they ended up going to the same school or not, things were going to change. Danny was very attractive, and going off to college meant girls may actually approach him when they didn’t know his parents were ghost fighters. The fact had never bothered Sam, but she did kind of like how it kept most girls at school from asking him out or giving him attention. Valerie had been a challenge, especially because she was a ghost hunter herself and probably wanted to get tips from his parents. Sam was glad that relationship ended relatively early. It was too hard on her. Joyous or not, though, she was still mad at Valerie for how she broke his heart.

But that was 2 years ago. They had all moved on and friendships were more or less mended across the board. This made Sam glance at her favorite picture of her and Danny. Tucker had taken the candid picture and it was now her phone’s background. In it, Danny was giving Sam a piggyback ride. Her arms were lightly strung around his neck, legs looped around his waist. Danny had kept going in the opposite direction Sam told him to go, which frustrated her but also made her laugh. She had rested her chin on his shoulder, her face pressed right up against his. Danny was looking at her and Tucker had captured that rare moment when Sam had a huge grin on her face, still laughing. She smiled at the picture. They would be okay no matter what. Their friendship would survive.

Anyway, Sam also realized she had already come close to losing Danny, in more ways than one. Whether it was to other girls or a ghost, there was always that anxiety stirring in her head that she could lose him entirely some day. Life was too short. She needed to take the plunge for both of them and just get them both over this hurdle, and they could finally, finally, actually get together.

Sam made her decision. It was now or never. She was going to tell him. Today. The trio was meeting up at Danny’s house later anyway, and if she got there early enough, she could talk to him before Tucker showed up and teased them about it. Sam firmly nodded her head to herself, a confirmation of her decision. It was finally time.

After school, Danny was pacing in his room, trying to figure out how he wanted to do this. Asking a girl to the dance wasn’t a huge deal, and yet at the same time, it was. He would rather ask in person, but he still didn’t know what Chaos looked like, so asking in person seemed to be off the table. He could look in the yearbook for all the girls named Sam at their school. He could already omit one Sam Manson from that list. How many Sams could possibly attend their school? It would be easier to ask Tucker, though. Tucker already knew who she was. Sam and Tucker were on their way over right now. When Sam wasn’t paying attention, he could ask Tucker for Sam’s full name.

Chaos Sam, not best friend Sam. God, this was so confusing. Why were girls so hard for him? Freshman year, Paulina only liked his ghost half and wouldn’t give his human half the time of day. Sophomore year, Valerie hated his ghost half and that hatred was more important to her than her feelings for his human half. Junior year, he had been denying that he was in love with his best friend. And now that he had finally accepted that he did like his best friend as much more than a friend, a new girl entered the picture and he now found himself trying to choose between two Sams. Because it apparently wasn’t hard enough for him already to make the biggest and most important change he could possibly make in a friendship, let’s add another crush to the mix and give them the same name.

Sam. Best friend Sam - that’s who he was planning on asking originally, even if he chickened out and had to ask her as a friend instead. Plus, he and Sam had somehow gotten closer recently, and he was pretty sure she liked him. Sure, it was only because Tucker told him so, but it was a possibility. The thing was, he didn’t want to ruin things. Especially because he truly didn’t know how Sam, best friend Sam, felt about him. She was a tough and courageous girl, surely she would have said something by now if it were true. So Tucker must be pulling his leg.

But he did have another option - Chaos Sam, who may actually return his feelings. Sure, the feelings weren’t nearly as strong as what he felt for his best friend, but the feelings were still there. Plus, if he got rejected by Chaos, it would be less heartbreaking than being rejected by Sam, someone he had known for years rather than months. He could deal with losing a newer friend, but not one of his best friends. Sam was too important and he knew he needed her in his life.

Danny sighed. This was really hard, but he made a decision. It was easier to go with Chaos than risk ruining things with Sam. Danny had enough drama going on in his life already, he needed an easy win.

He broke from his thoughts when the doorbell rang. He ran downstairs and opened it, only slightly surprised to see Sam there. She was usually early for things. He and Tuck were more prone to being late.

“Hey, Sam. Come on in!” Danny moved so Sam could enter his house. He shut the door and followed her upstairs and back to his room as she returned his greeting. She was pacing the same path he just had, muttering quietly to herself. She looked nervous. “Something on your mind?”

Sam was startled out of her thoughts. “Huh? Oh yeah.” She noticed his disheveled appearance, also noting he was fidgety. Was he going to do what she was about to do? “What about you, you look like you’ve been thinking a little too hard about something.” She smiled softly.

Danny chuckled, “Yeah, but it’ll resolve itself soon. I’ll worry about it after the movies. Tuck should be here any second. Oh, but I’m glad you’re early. Can you help me with something quick?”

“Of course.” Sam followed him to his desk, smiling and rolling her eyes when he pointed to a homework problem. “I should have known.”

Danny gave her a lopsided smile and watched as she showed him how to do the problem in her perfect handwriting. It took no more than a couple of minutes. Now, they were just waiting for Tucker to arrive.

Sam looked at the time. He would be here soon. She needed to do this now. She needed to tell Danny. She couldn’t wait until after the movies for him to tell her. She had already waited long enough and couldn’t bear another second.

“Danny, can I talk to you for a second?” She sat down on his bed and gestured for him to do the same.

Danny could sense the seriousness in her voice, and nodded anxiously. He was scared when Sam was serious about things. It was usually something bad.

“Danny…” She decided to get straight to the point. “I like you. As in like-like you. More than like, and more than a friend. And we’ve been doing this dancing around for at least 4 years now and I’m sick of it. I just want to be with you already. What do you say?” Sam held her breath as she waited for Danny to answer.

He stared at her with wide eyes before nervously rubbing the back of his neck and turning his attention to his shoes, avoiding eye contact with the goth. God, why him?! He had stupidly thought, for once, things would be easier for him this time. He had already sent an offline message to Chaos that he wanted to ask her something, and then Sam had to come along and tell him what he had wanted to hear for some time now. But he couldn’t blow Chaos off when he had already somewhat asked. Of course, his life just had to be complicated every step of the way. He really liked both girls and didn’t want to hurt his best friend. Regardless, he had to be honest. He owed Sam that much. “Well, I mean, yeah, but…”

“But what?” Sam whispered, clearly already upset. Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He decided to try going with Chaos so he could avoid heartbreak from his best friend. The very thing he had been so afraid of, he was doing to her right now.

Danny sighed again. “But I can’t. I’m so sorry, Sam.” It was hard to choke out, but he said it, and he felt terrible. He pressed his lips together and kept staring at his shoes until Sam lifted his chin up, forcing him to look at her.

“What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We’ve had mutual crushes on each other for years!” Sam said angrily, feeling her heart break as her best friend and love of her life rejected her confession of love. She was so sure he returned her feelings! Especially after all the great conversations they had shared online these last few months. “Or, at least, I thought we did.” Tears swelled in her eyes. Did he lead her on? “I-I need an explanation, Danny,” she quietly stated after he didn’t continue.

Danny frowned and his heart ached. He didn’t want to hurt his best friend like this. Hell, he really liked her! Of course their crushes were mutual! And if this had happened 6 months ago instead of now, he would have jumped at the chance. But now...now he had Chaos and already forced himself to stick with his decision. It was easy with Chaos; there was no friendship to risk, no denying of being lovebirds or brushing off kisses as fakeout makeouts. Plus, he couldn’t lie to his best friend. She would know if he was lying. And he already told himself she deserved the truth. “There’s...someone else…”

“What?” Sam whispered before turning angry again, “Paulina? Valerie? Star?” she spat out.

Danny shook his head, “Ew, no...it’s someone I met online...I’m so sorry, Sam. I like you a lot, I really do, but I think I’ve already come to the conclusion that I like this girl I met online, Chaos, and I have to try to see that through.”

Many emotions crossed Sam’s face as she pieced together what he just said. At first she was upset, but as he explained himself, she felt disbelief, confusion, anger, and finally, hope. He couldn’t really be that clueless, right? “Show me.”

“Huh? I mean, I don’t actually know what she looks like, but we message every night and she really understands me! I know it sounds ridiculous, but-”

“Show me,” Sam repeated. “Show me her profile.”

“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Danny questioned cautiously.

“No, of course not. Just shut up and show me the profile.” Sam was more calm now, and that was kind of scary. Even though Sam said she wouldn’t hurt Chaos, he didn’t want to give her the chance. But he knew how stubborn his friend was, and eventually in whatever way, she would force the information out of him.

Danny sighed and pulled up the profile to show Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m still your best frien-”

“Shut up.” Sam scrolled through what Danny pulled up for her and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Closing her eyes slowly, she took a deep breath. “Didn’t Chaos tell you her name?”

“Uh,” Danny thought, “oh yeah! She said her name was Sam, because I thought she was a boy at first and I had an existential crisis, but then Tucker told me-”

“Danny. I’m Sam.”

“No I know, and sure it’ll be a little weird cause you’re Sam and she’s Sam, it’s confusing, but I-”

Sam interrupted him once again. She could hear Tucker’s footsteps approaching. She was running out of time to not make this a spectacle. “No, Danny. Chaos. Sam. Me. I’m Sam. I am Sam,”

Tucker only heard the tail end of the conversation as he entered the room. Never able to pass up a comedic opportunity, he smirked and added “I am Sam. Sam I am. I do not like green eggs and ham!”

It was suddenly silent in the room as his friends seized conversation and glared at him. Oops.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Tucker could see the fire in Sam’s eyes. “Uh, oh wait I forgot my...sock. I’ll be downstairs!” He raced out of the room.

Sam turned her attention back to Danny. “No, you stupid fucking MORON. I am Chaos. You’ve been talking to me the whole time. I thought you knew that!” Danny stared at her blankly until she pulled out her phone and he watched her log into her account, proving it to him. Sure enough, it was Chaos’s profile. He could see all the direct messages between them, including his offline message about wanting to ask her something.

“Wait, you? You’re Sam? I mean, Chaos? I mean Sam?” Danny looked back and forth between the profile and his best friend.

“UGH!” Sam shouted as she threw her hands in the air. “Yes, Danny. That’s me! Did you really not notice that Chaos was the same age as me and a girl who goes to our school? We have the same name and interests! Didn’t you wonder why it was so easy to talk right off the bat? I thought you put that all together and us just pretending to not know each other was a little bit you were trying to do or something!”

Danny stared at her as he continued to piece it all together. He was definitely embarrassed. He felt so stupid. How could he not tell that Chaos was Sam, his best friend since 7th grade? Talk about being totally clueless.

Wait. Clueless? Well, fuck! He got the nickname now!

His eyes flickered back and forth as he thought everything through. Eventually, he started to crack a smile. “Wait, so I’ve had a crush on you and also you? You’re the same person! This is great! Do you know what this means?!”

Sam slapped her forehead and began walking downstairs. “I don’t even know if this is worth it anymore…”

“Wait, how come Tuck and I never knew you played video games! We can enter team tournaments! You’re so good!” Danny chased after her.

Tucker watched as Sam grumbled about Danny caring more about video games than her. An excited Danny was right on her tail.

“Tucker! Sam is Chaos! I’ve been in love with Sam this whole time!” Danny explained.

“Tucker, I need you to refrain me from slapping his stupid clueless face,” Sam started.

“Wait, you didn’t know Sam was Chaos? Dude! I thought I was obvious about that!” Tucker began laughing at Danny.

“I know, so did I.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

“Danny, you can calculate levels of rocket fuel and figure out how to get us to Mercury or something,” Tucker started.

“Mars, actually,” Danny corrected.

“But you can’t figure out that your best friend and your crush are the same person? You’re more than Captain Clueless, you’re like….Lieutenant Clueless? That’s like, bigger right?” Tucker continued.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Tuck,” Sam chimed in.

“Shut up Sam, this isn’t about you,” Tucker immediately stopped his train of thought when he felt Sam glaring daggers at him. “Heh, uh. Except it does. It actually has nothing to do with me. I’m sorry I told you to shut up, please don’t hurt me!” He threw his hands up in front of himself in defense.

“Relax, Tucker. I’m more angry with this fucking dingus,” she pointed her thumb in Danny’s direction.

The halfa was about to protest, then closed his mouth. “That’s fair, I deserve that.”

“I can’t even look at you right now. You scared me! I poured out my emotions to you. I thought you were rejecting me and that I would have to change my name and move to a different country! Wait, are you still rejecting me?” Sam stopped her pacing to look at him.

“Of course not, Sammy!”

“Oh don’t you ‘Sammy’ me! I told you I love you, you stupid fucking idiot!” Sam began throwing pillows at Danny, who expertly dodged them (though as a result, Tucker got hit in the face by one).

“Technically, you didn’t say ‘love’ you said ‘like’”, Danny offered as Tucker shook his head and slashed finger across his neck, signaling Danny to stop talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry! This is all my fault! I’m going to go jump off a cliff now!” Sam growled and Danny let out a small “oomph” as one of the pillows finally got him.

“I’m out. Good luck, bro!” Tucker quickly slipped out the door, leaving Danny and Sam alone.

Sam was about to follow Tucker out when Danny stopped her, “please don’t leave!” She still had angry tears in her eyes. He frowned. This was not how he expected things to go. She watched him for a few seconds before sitting down on the couch, refusing to look at him. “Sam I’m so sorry, this is just a huge misunderstanding.”

“No, Danny. It’s not. You were going to turn me down to go out with someone else.”

“But that someone was still you!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that! We’ve been friends for years, and you were more interested in someone you just met a few months ago! I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice, Danny! I’ve been standing by for years as you continuously chose other girls over me. I thought we were done with that, and that you were finally choosing me first, but you won’t and you never will and I’m so stupid.” Sam put her head in her hands as she tried her hardest not to let tears fall.

And that was when he finally figured it out. It wasn’t just the moment of rejection, it was years of rejection, and at her biggest confession, she still thought he was choosing someone over her. Not to mention, Tucker witnessed most of the conversation. Sam rarely showed her emotions. She always had her heart guarded, and he knew this. Tucker knew this. Hell, she didn’t even tell them she was rich until after a few years of friendship. It took them a while to get her to open up to them. She was a pretty private person. She was probably already hurt like this before. And now, she was probably embarrassed.

“You’re definitely not stupid. I’m stupid. I should have known it was you. That was actually what I really liked about Chaos, she reminded me of you.”

Sam forced a small sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, right.”

“No really,” Danny sat on the couch next to her and grabbed her hand, placing it in both of his. “Sam, you’re absolutely incredible. How dumb would I have to be to not notice?” Sam gave him a pointed look. “Okay yeah but it’s not the way you think it is. I liked Chaos because she was a lot like you. She reminded me of you. And it just seemed easier to go with her because she was basically you, but she and I didn’t have a really great friendship that could have gotten ruined if we broke up or something. I could live without her, but I can’t live without you. You’re always my number one. Always have been, always will be. Even if I did just fuck everything up. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m ready to be with you, if you’ll still have me.”

Sam stayed silent and stared at her lap, processing this new information. Of course she would forgive him; she always did. She just needed a little time.

Danny was getting nervous that he really did fuck this up for good. This was so fucking important! He couldn’t risk fucking this up! Sensing her hesitation, Danny tried one more thing to get her back. One thing he hasn’t done before. One thing he just learned how to perfect.

“Sammy, I’m sorry,” a duplicate popped up next to her on the other side of the couch, startling her.

“Please forgive me?” Another duplicate was floating in front of her, hanging upside down, hair flopping all over the place.

“I know I’m a dummy but,” Sam snapped her head towards a third duplicate.

“I’m only a dummy because I’m in love. With you,” the real Danny finished. Sam looked back and forth between all the Dannys.

“We’re sorry, Sammy,” all the duplicates said at once.

Sam was trying really hard to hold back a smile. “You learned how to duplicate,” she stated simply.

Original Danny grabbed her hands. “Sam. I will make this up to you. I promise.”

She could hear the determination in his voice and sighed. “You better.”

Danny smiled and hugged her. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! I love you so much!”

Sam pushed him off of her. “I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

“But I get to be your idiot!” Sam couldn’t hold her laughter back anymore. “Oh!” Danny shouted, “Will you go to the dance with me? Please?”

Sam pretended to ponder the answer before saying “alright”.

“Yay!” All 4 Dannys cheered. The duplicates on either side of her kissed her cheeks as the real Danny kissed her forehead tenderly. The final duplicate, feeling left out, squeezed his way in to give her a hug.

Sam was now roaring with laughter before kissing the real Danny sweetly. “You know, duplicates won’t always get you out of trouble,” she warned.

“Yeah, but they could come in handy for other things,” he wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively before passionately kissing her, the duplicates kissing her neck and touching her in near-dangerous places.

Sam bit back a moan, eyes lustful before smirking, “I think you just found a way to make it up to me.” She began dragging the real Danny and one of his duplicates back to his room. Fuck the movies.

#phic phight 2021 #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #amethyst ocean #also yes I took a prompt that was kinda anti-AO and turned it into AO #it's my super power #AO ho 4 life #stephanie writes sometimes

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

Text

Heya!! Kip here! The @memorabiliazine preorders have just shipped, which means we can share our pieces now! I wrote this piece back in February, after theorizing about the presence of Robbie's Telescope being present in the Royal Tech Lab in Age of Calamity. So without further a do, here be my little essay/fic on some old ruins, or more specifically, its:

Cause of Destruction

The storm had come too late. Thankfully, it was all devastated.

She continued to run from the screaming.

The Sheikah woman headed for the hills, brittle trees littering the eastern side of the Lindor mountain side. If she hurried, she could meet up with the others who had—

A distant crack of thunder melded with the collapse of stone; she makes the mistake of glancing back.

In the greater horizon, the shadow of Hyrule Castle looms over a conquered dusk. A shrill cry—something between a roar and a whine—escapes from the cloudy malice beast that enshrouds the Hylian monument. But that was just the backdrop, the canvas for contrast. Closer still, in the billowing grass of North Hyrule Plain, the stormy winds cut through fog and smoke like a dagger.

In the opened wound, the faint silhouette of a building glows.

Blue.

She keeps running.

The color might have at one point been appealing—the symbol of the Royals, the pleasant hue that cloaked a perfect morning. But tonight it just haunted her...chased her...reminded her of the terrible deed that was done.

A horse came over the hills.

“HEY!” a man shouted, mounted on a grey horse. “MA’AM! HALT, PLEASE!”

Crap. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, clutched her limp, burned arm, and kept moving. I just need to reach the trees.

But the chase seemed over before it had even started. When she had first started running from the blue, some wandering captain had stopped her to ask what was wrong. There was a strange kindness in his striking eyes, a forgein concept in this land now stricken with grief, death, and paranoia. In her haste—and possibly shame of what she had done—she had just pushed the captain away and fled. Very inconspicuous…good job me.

Now it seems he had found her again. Any other day she might have commended him for his kindness in checking with some random Sheikah, during the end of the world no less.

But tonight, well...there’s a sliver of her that might have preferred death.

The woman tripped on a divet in the earth, crashing down on one of her badly burned legs, and hissed at the pain. The rain had muddied the path, and was staining her once white clothes a disgusting marron. The pounding of hooves grew closer, until they halted right next to her ears.

A pair of leather boots crashed into the mud.

“Ma’am, don’t get up. You’re injured. Please.”

The clang of metal armour accompanies the voice. Oh he was a captain alright, equipped well for the apocalypse. His metalspear and armour adorned in—

She looks up.

Blue.

A slight frown.

The man tries to help her to her feet, watching to not clutch on the wounds on her right side. “Whatcha doing all the way out here? The nearest settlement is a ways away.” The captain lifts up one of her arms, and his eyes widen just a bit. “Dammit...those burns look bad. We might getcha some aid...there’s a laboratory place nearby that I’m heading by, just due east and—”

“...Lab?” The woman can’t help but wonder aloud. No...you idiot, you can’t be serious.

The captain smiles again. “See now, that’s why I was so eager to catch your attention. You’re running in the wrong direction.” He points in the direction she was running towards. “Up where you’re going is just mountains. There’s a fancy smancy lab a bit south that could help patch you up better than—”

“If you head to that lab, you’ll die.” She lets the words linger for a moment. “Unless, of course, that was the desired plan for the evening.” The woman laughs to herself, but the sound is empty and dry.

He frowns. “...What?”

She’s silent, gears turning in her head. Goddess...how do I say this without—

She points east, the rain pattering on her outstretched sleeve. “Tell me, Captain. What do you see over there?”

The man pauses, his face contort with confusion. He follows her hand and stares at the blue.

“...North Hyrule Plain. Some building glowing blue over there…I’m assuming that’s the techno-wizz from the L—”

“Lab, yes. That would be the Royal Ancient Lab. Though I’m afraid it’s not glowing from ‘techno-wizz’ or anything of that sort, dear captain.”

She crosses her arms, turning to look away from the blue and hugging her knees. “It’s currently burning to the ground.”

An ugly pause, as the man seems to take a moment to digest this. He flickers his gaze between the Sheikah and the distant blue building.

“I-It’s...It’s raining though—”

“Blue flame, I’m afraid, is a bit more resistant. Plus, it’s been burning long before the storm came through.”

“What...I…” The captain sits next to her, plopping into the mud in disbelief. “I was really thinking that...why would…”

He turns to her, his eyes are stormy grey, with faint specks of blue, like embers. The captain’s tone is gravely serious. “Miss, why was that lab destroyed?”

The question catches her off guard. Her jaw’s clenched, but she breaks their staring contest and hides her surprise with a shrug. “Same reason as every other disaster today. Calamity Ganon destroyed it.”

There’s a crack of thunder, and the ground shudders at her lie.

“...No.” the man mumbles.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to process—”

“No, I mean,” he stands, hand reaching for his back, “that’s not what actually happened, is it ma’am?”

Crap. The Sheikah holds her hands in the air. “If this is about me shoving you earlier, I was just a bit—”

“Aw now don’tcha worry about that, I took no personal offense.” He scratches the blond stubble on his chin.

“Now the thing that I do find some mighty fine offense to, is the fact that there’s a good lick of a chance that I’m currently speaking to an arsonist traitor.”

There’s a BOOM, and in the distance, another large piece of the Royal Lab collapses into the earth. The blue grows brighter.

“Me? What in the name of Hylia are you—”

“Let’s not play dumb, ma’am. Trust me, I’m a sucker for some pleasantries and small talk, though I’m afraid addressing the fact that you burned down the nearest safe haven for miles is gonna take priority here.”

The Sheikah woman just fumes, attempting to get up in the captain’s face. “How DARE you accuse me of—”

She’s cut off by the shing of metal cutting through air. The captain twirls the spear on his back and points the end right at her neck, resting just below her chin. She scowls, but puts her hands in the air.

“You just don’t understan—”

“That’s a mighty fine torch you got there…” He clicks his tongue.

Both hands grip his spear steady, ready to pierce flesh at any moment. The captain gestures with a wink to the torch attached to her waist. It seems to still smolder slightly with faint blue embers.

The captain looks between the torch, and the blue fire in the horizon.

“Yes, a mighty fine torch indeed.” He presses the spear tip a bit further forward.

“And it’s glowing a familiar color.”

Cause of Destruction

An Analysis of the Destruction of the Royal Ancient Lab

By Dr. J Kippers

(But please, Kippers was my father, call me Kip)

So heroes are a thing, huh? Who’da thunk it! One minute, I’m continuing my travels, studying some cool rocks and bricks in Hyrule Field. Then the next, a giant malice pig appears and fights some teenage boy wielding a glowing stick. I definitely wasn’t cowering behind the ruins of a garrison bathroom while that all happened, and I definitely was doing some cool badass fighting moves with my...pen, to help that knight and save the world and stuff. Makes for a pretty cool story, yeah? HA, Traysi would kill for it…

But enough of my daring, slightly exaggerated, exploits. It’s been a few weeks since the world’s settled down from the Calamity’s defeat, which means I had prime time to settle back into my hometown, and put my years of travel and research to paper!

I spent the majority of my life studying the history of Hyrule as it fell to the Calamity 100 years ago...and with the world now revitalizing, it’s just prime time to get myself out there! Research wise, that is!

At first, I didn’t really know what to write, cause WOW there’s just so many topics to choose from. Plus there’s a lot on the line here, gotta make a good impression for whatever new kingdom that Princess Zelda’s got planned. She seems the scholarly type, yeah? I’m thinking I could snag some Hyrule history teach’ position at a rebuilt university or something… Princess has got an awful lot of focus on the reconstruction of different village ruins. Which is fair, cause who better to know how to rebuild these places than the people who were alive to see them in their prime!

And you see, that’s where my journey of knowledge began! People with first hand knowledge of the events of distant past are alive? OH a historian’s dream…my soul swells in happiness. Plus, I also got my researcher brain a-tingling. My dad’s friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandma’s dog’s breeder knew Dr. Robbie back in the day, so Sheikah tech is basically in my blood.

With these passions rejuvenated I had my goal! Publish some revolutionary new theory that combined my awesome knowledge for history, archeology, and tech! And what better place to see that than, (duh) the Royal Ancient Lab Ruins.

Now, there doesn’t seem to be much in these ruins…it’s absolutely barren. No weapons or treasures to be seen. Just your run-of-the-mill ruined ruins, destroyed long ago by the Calamity. And that was the end of the story.

At least that’s what I thought until I did a little more digging. See, as I was doing some additional research, I stumbled upon this old history/research book stored in the Kakariko archive. I have no idea where it came from...it’s titled...C-Caa...Creation? Creating? Creating a...Cham...it’s kinda faded and hard to read. But anyhow, this weird little history book was written by some guy named “Nine-tendons.” If someone out there has a copy feel free to hit me up, but for today’s sake title and author don’t really matter. The point is, one of the quotes in that book describes the ruins like this:

Royal Ancient Lab Ruins

It is thought that these ruins represent the ancient relic research facility that was under the direct rule of Hyrule Castle, but only the outer walls remain. There is no trace of the building’s interior, let alone any research materials.

The thoroughness of its destruction feels intentional. [Page 396, Cr_ating a Champ___, Nint__do.]

Now I’m not too familiar with the work of whoever Mr. Nin-Ten-doves is, but I strangely trust their word on the topic wholeheartedly. Call it a feeling from the divine if you must, but they’re right! It seems so much more obvious in hindsight.

My adventures into the other various ruins across Hyrule always gave me something to work with. The world is just crafted for exploration. Old treasure chests, weird rocks with a tiny talking tree fairy underneath. Hell, even a monster or two was always happy to inhabit even the smallest of ruins I’ve entered. Yet, there is absolutely nothing of prominence to be seen at the ruins of the Royal Ancient Lab. And I’ve double, triple, and quintuple-checked!

Why are there no rusted weapons...or treasures...or any records or evidence of anything, other than some crude stone walls and a rock? That kind of destruction is just unnecessarily absolute, even for the Calamity.

According to detailed drawings/notes I have in my records of Historical Works during the Age of Calamity (HW AOC for short), the Royal Ancient Lab was nearly three stories tall, with a royal blue ceiling, complete with a basement level, and an upper telescope! With even the smallest of structures (like simple ranch and village ruins) still standing today with plenty of artifacts, why is as great a structure as the Royal Lab so desolate?

Intentional, intentional, intentional...that word ran through my head for days, weeks, months even. Why would the Royal Ancient Lab be destroyed intentionally? Did the Calamity see it as that major a threat? No, that wouldn’t make sense, the movements of Calamity Ganon that day clearly show his intention to use the Sheikah power against the people of Hyrule. An Ancient Lab would be a major benefit, if anything…

So, surprising as it may be, the current prime suspect for the destruction of this lab would actually be…

The Sheikah just glares. “Well...what gave it away?

He shrugged his shoulders with a half smile. “Deductive reasoning, with a hint of some good ol’ luck perhaps.”

“Listen, I know this looks bad, but you have to understand—”

“Oh I understand quite well alright.” The captain gives a wink. “I try to be humble, but Mama always did say I was the smartest cookie she knew.”

He rests the end of his spear on her collarbone, the threat clearly still present, but it gives him the freedom to pace and wipe rain for his soaked blonde hair.

“See I know that Calamity Ganon’s corrupted every bit of Sheikah tech from here to Lurelin. I know that he’s been targeting Hylian settlements. ‘Seen it myself when some monsters and Guardians destroyed my regiment and post at Maritta Exchange, just a bit north from here. I know that the only reason the other settlements, like the Rito and Zora, are still standing is because Ganon’s focusing all his forces on finding and killing the Hylian Champion and the princess. And finally I know that because of that, there is not a Guardian or monster around for many a mile. I mean, just lookie over there.”

The woman turns her head, and sure enough, the plains are barren of all life. No movement of machine or beast or person.

“And now my assumption was—and do pardon me if my monologue is redundant to your traitor ears—that the nearest place of safety would be this royal laboratory of technology. It’s Sheikah run, so it wouldn’t be immediately targeted. Plus the last thing the Calamity would want is for his personal army of destruction to be...well, destroyed. Ifs I was them evil cloud demon thing, I woulda wanted the lab with all my corrupted techno babble soldiers to be kept in peak condition. However…”

The captain turns to the right, staring at the blazing blue building in the distance. “...That does not seem to be the case.”

The Sheikah opens her mouth to speak, but he holds up the spear again. “Now I’m thinking, the only reason someone would go about destroying that lab, would perhaps be to kill some people, no?”

“We didn’t—”

“Getting rid of the people who could possibly reverse the Guardian corruption...now I suppose that might be a good evil plan.”

“It was for the be—”

“Ma’am I’m all about looking on the bright side of things, but,” the captain flicks his head in the direction of the blue, “This ain’t exactly the light a’ hope I was wanting.”

“Maybe not, but—”

“So,who are ya? Yiga?”

“No, it’s—”

“Solo treason then. You getting revenge on someone ‘round here? A noble? The King? Or perhaps you’re just the sadistic type with the whole—”

“NO!”

The outburst surprises the both of them, and he hold the spear to ner neck firmly. Another crack of thunder reminds them of the silence that’s endured. The Sheikah finally sighs.

“Perhaps by definition I am an arsonist and a traitor, but for one thing, I wasn’t alone.”

The man’s eyes shine curiously, but she continues.

“I will gladly die alongside them, as my actions have only been for the benefit of Hyrule.”

The rain’s tempo quickens as she gets on her feet, but the captain doesn’t strike. She stares him down, eyes hidden behind strands of white hair.

“My name is Atsuko, a devoted researcher at the Royal Lab, and you may kill me if you think it just.”

Ok, now I know what you’re all thinking. You’re thinking “Kip! Why are you writing this official research paper like some drunken bar rant? How the hell are you gonna get noticed at this rate?” or “Kip! The hell are you thinking?? Sheikah destroying the Ancient Lab makes absolutely no sense?!”

So to that I say, firstly, uhhh you’re welcome for not being a boring posh, snobby lecturer.(Learned to value a personality over fancy words; lessons my granddad).

As for the latter, you are quite wrong my dear friend, quite wrong indeed. It makes an absolute butt-load of sense, and I’m gonna prove it was them, here and now! I mean that’s...kinda the whole point of an essay, yeah?

My fellow archeology, history, and tech lovers, not only do I know who is responsible for the Royal Lab’s destruction, but I know the true reason why and how! Let us start at the beginning!

What exactly is the lab, and what was its purpose? Well, as the name implies, it was a Sheikah-run laboratory under the hand of the royal family that researched and experimented with Ancient technology. Again, looking at references in HW AOC, I can place not only Guardian models and Ancient weaponry at the lab, but also the existence of blue flame lamps that seemingly powered the facility.

As we all know, it’s tough to mess around with Ancient parts without blue flame, which is the prime energy source for the Ancient Sheikah. Such are the existence of today’s Hateno and Akkala tech labs, located near blue flame furnaces. However! This brings into question exactly why the Royal Lab was constructed where it was…

There are only three places in all of Hyrule with natural blue flame deposits, or otherwise called “Ancient Furnaces.” That would be in Hateno, Akkala, and within Hyrule Castle itself. So why is the Royal Tech Lab so far from these Ancient Furnaces?

To answer this question, might I direct your attention towards explosions. That’s right folks, I’m talking bombs! (Please take this moment to imagine me creating an accompanying explosive sound effect with my mouth)

Some time ago, as I was analyzing the blue flame lamps in Deep Akkala, I ran into that hero of legend face to face! Nice guy, quiet and charming type. Smelled strangely like apples and burnt guts.

Long story short, I traded my entire supply of Hot-Footed Frogs and arrows for a chance to mess with his Sheikah Slate for a bit.

So during that brief period of research, I discovered that while Sheikah tech is usually well controlled—with bomb runes only going off on command by the push of a button—there is an exception! Bomb runes instantly react with blue flame, just one touch and they’ll instantly explode! Try it out yourself! Er, well. Ok, maybe not. Don’t do that, legally I’m not responsible. Plus, it’s not like any of you folk out there have access to bomb runes or a Sheikah Slate that you can play around and test it out for yourself like it’s some virtual game that you can switch around in your hands.

Bomb runes are giant bundles of compact Sheikah tech. When in contact with a pure blue flame, they go boom. The process with the Sheikah Slate must simplify this process with a remote button, but as I’ve discovered, the process can be hastened by chucking a torch around.

I call this phenomenon of blue flame reacting destructively with Sheikah technology a “blue combustion!” I’m creative, I know.

I imagine, any experimentation with weapons that harness, compress, or just generally mess with Sheikah tech and lasers, must be conducted in an environment that prevents blue combustion. You don’t want pure blue flame touching stuff. Otherwise you go kaboom.

Now I couldn’t get a hold of Dr. Robbie or Director Purah myself, something about how they “don’t know who the heck” I am, and “you’re trespassing please get off it’s private property,” or something of the sort, I’m not really sure. But even without their testimonies, you’ll notice that their large tech labs are constructed a distance away from the actual Ancient Furnace. They aren’t right beside it. If they were, you risk losing a limb to a blue combustion. That is also why blue flame lamps exist: to stagger the distance between the flames. And thus is why the Royal Lab isn’t nearby an Ancient Furnace.

Yet even so, the distance the Royal Lab has from an Ancient Furnace might still stump you, because even compared to the Akkala and Hateno labs, it is very very far. But here’s the kicker, my dear curious readers and poor editor, the reason for this extreme distance is because during its prime, the Royal Ancient Lab housed a large portion of the Guardian army and weaponry. It needed more distance because its contents accumulated a much larger space. I can prove this not only by descriptions shown in HW AOC, but also by notes/drawings shown in the archive called the Backgrounds of Technological Wonders, or BOTW for short.

Both these sources show that while Guardians were tested and stationed in Hyrule Castle, the number of Guardians at the castle was probably only in the one hundred mark or less. Now that may seem like a lot, but remember, hundreds of Guardians were dug up, as especially shown in the famous Sheikah tapestry of 10,000 years ago. Arguably even thousands, considering that tapestry is a simplification.

So if we can only account for only a portion of the Guardian population at Hyrule Castle, where are the rest? Scattered across different garrisons perhaps, sure. But they’d mainly be in the facility where each of the Guardians were constructed and given power, the place full of the most talented Sheikah researchers, a location that would still be in decent proximity, but still a safe distance from the castle should an emergency arise: the Royal Ancient Tech Lab. That’s where most of Guardians are.

Now, why is this important? Why did I just spend a few paragraphs talking about blue flames and Guardians and locations when this is about the lab’s destruction and demise?

It’s because this is my sure fire way to prove to you that the Calamity did not destroy the Royal Lab.

The Royal Ancient Lab was constructed specifically to create the best Guardians and technology to beat the Calamity with.

It would have been constructed specifically to avoid any fatal blue combustion accidents.

And it sure as hell wouldn’t have been purposefully destroyed by the Calamity, the one entity who would benefit from its existence.

The lab was decimated by a blue combustion, no question. There isn’t anything as powerful as it that could destroy a place so completely. And now knowing the factors surrounding the lab itself, we know that if it was destroyed by a combustion, it was not because of an accident.

It could only have been done purposefully, by the only people who would know the Royal Lab’s weaknesses.

It could only have been brought down by the Sheikah researchers.

So now, the questions of exactly how and why remain.

The captain just stands and ponders.

“Ma’am, I must confess that I don’t find the science of the destruction nearly as interesting as exactly what made you decide to do it.”

“It’s like I said,” Atsuko clutches her burned arm, “It wasn’t just me. Really, now, you’re too kind to give me so much credit.”

The spear end moves closer to her neck. “Alright alright alright, sorry, pal. Look I have no idea if you’re even believing all this right now, but you have to trust me that our actions were of the best intentions.”

The captain smirks. “Do tell?”

According to BOTW, the Ancient Arrow was developed by Dr. Robbie as one of the most powerful means of combating the Calamity itself. In fact, according to research I’ve found in that CAC book by Mint-en-do, I can place the exact time for the development of this weapon, which I can use to glean information about it’s properties.

Ancient Arrow

Perhaps forty or fifty years after the day of the Great Calamity Robbie, the lead Guardian researcher, created the first weapon that was effective against the mechanical monsters: the ancient arrow... Flames come out from the burner like bit [of the Ancient Arrow] and form a blade. [Page 388 and 178, Cr_ating a Champ___, Nint__do.]

The arrow instantly vaporizes whatever it comes into contact with, tearing apart the subject by the molecule, and sending them to non-existence. The description of the weapon implies that it is the pure energy of a blue flame, and built quite differently than other Sheikah weapons.

And the difference definitely shows. I’ve handled a few of these puppies myself, and let me tell you, they get the job done. While an Ancient sword or axe will certainly do some damage, a single Ancient Arrow can take out a Guardian, or even a Lynel in one hit. I heard that they could even do major damage to Dark Beast Ganon itself!

Now, why do I bring this up? Because this Ancient Arrow proves that the Sheikah 100 years ago knew about the dangers of blue combustion.

An Ancient Arrow is clearly the result of intensive research into blue combustion, it is literally a pure blue flame on a stick pumped up with some Ancient Tech. It vaporizes whatever matter it touches and it ceases to exist.

Hmm...would be a fine explanation as to why the nearly three stories worth of stone and ceiling in the Royal Lab no longer can be found.

And why wasn’t the Ancient Arrow developed sooner? It’s because no one thought to purposefully cause an event that would destroy everything until they were forced to on the actual day of the Calamity. It’s because it took even the most brilliant of scientists half a century to even contain a feat of destruction into a single arrowtip? Yes...when you lay out the facts like that, it seems to make sense on the timeline.

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to the question of “why?” Let me rewind to an earlier point. Where are the thousands of Guardians in Hyrule?

Yes, a good hundred or so could be found in Hyrule Castle, and the majority were in the Royal Ancient Lab. But today, where are they? Records in BOTW cite only 157 Guardian remains in all of Hyrule. 157. How? That’s impossible. Witnesses and notes in HW AOC prove that much, much more existed. And what’s more is that we know that the majority of those Guardians were at the Royal Lab, but there are no Guardians, active or otherwise, to be found there. There is nothing.

It’s almost as if all those Guardians were vaporized, they ceased to exist one day.

And you know what.

They did.

(Please take this time to imagine me winking)

There’s some theme or metaphor here about the Royal Ancient Lab, constructed in the blues of the Royal family, ironically being destroyed by the blue combustion—but what do I look like, a writer? Find your own secret to life, here’s the blunt of it.

The Sheikah knew about the dangers a blue combustion could do, but on the day of the Calamity, they used that knowledge for the better. Seeing the corrupted Guardians in the distant castle, it is my belief that the researchers there purposefully brought the blue flames—that they had so carefully separated outside in the lanterns—in contact with Ancient Technology. Things not only went kaboom, but the actual matter ceased to exist. A giant Ancient Arrow.

Thousands of Guardians, hundreds of blades and weapons, and honestly, probably even lives, were gone in an instant. The only remains of the carnage would be the aftermath of blue flames that spread across the remains of the outer walls.

The Sheikah did this because it would save the most lives. That’s hundreds and thousands of Guardians and machines that wouldn’t fall into Ganon’s clutches, hundreds of souls saved. Did you know that today Hyrule Ridge, the home of the Royal Lab, has zero Guardians? Did you know that the lands near it, Hebra and Tabantha, have the lowest Guardian sightings in all of Hyrule? Even less than the Gerudo Desert. And I cite this all based on my hours of research and facts laid out by BOTW, HW AOC, and the divine work by Mr. Nin-ten-do

But even beyond that, how do I know, in absolute 600% certainty that the Sheikah were in complete control of this destruction? How am I so sure that the Sheikah that day had fully planned the intentional obliviation of their lab?

It’s because...I lied earlier.

There is actually one relic that survived. One little monument of the Royal Ancient Lab Ruins. One object giving physical proof of this theory.

One artifact that would have been impossible to preserve if the Sheikah hadn’t planned it all. I mentioned it briefly before, if you paid attention. Yes! This object is present in both the Royal Lab, and a tech lab of today. You could see it for yourself, if you pay a visit to my dad’s friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandma’s dog’s breeder’s Sheikah researcher pal...

“Dr. Robbie’s telescope.” Atsuko pointed to the scattered trees in upper Lindor, “Some other scientists took it up there to preserve it. It’s the only reason we were able to see the initial Guardian corrupting in the distant castle, and how we were able to adapt to the situation and act so quickly.”

The captain glanced at the western mountain. “So you were running up there to meet with them?”

“The wilderness is pretty safe at the moment. And we’re hoping eventually we could take the telescope to another lab where we could possibly continue research. I mean just today from the combustion, Dr. Robbie had this idea for some fancy Sheikah dagger to kill Guardians.”

Silence.

“OK listen, that’s...that’s all I’ve got. You can head up there and confirm the story, or just kill me now, take your pick. Waiting for judgement here.”

More silence. The rain falls harder.

“...I’m—”

“You can call me Cian.” The captain does a little bow. “Captain Cian Kippers, at your leisure.”

Atsuko raises an eyebrow. “Like the color—?”

“Sp-Spelled differently! There’s an “i” in there, and perhaps it’s ironic to the situation, but I figured if we’re gonna be traveling up there together you should have the courtesy of knowing my name.”

She just sputters for a moment. “So...you—”

“I trust your heart—I like to think I’m good with character—and I believe you’re a good person doing your best in the world. As unfortunate as circumstances may have been.” He twirls his spear before fitting it on his back. Cian extends a hand to her which she takes. “People like that are getting rarer by the hour, so I don’t think I should be adding to the death count.”

“So…” she gets on her feet, cocking her head, “You...you believe me then?”

He chuckles. “Well, I didn’t kill you did I?”

Atsuko laughs quietly. “Your mistake…”

“...No.” Cian places a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiles, as if to say that somehow everything was gonna be alright.

“My intention.”

#Memorabilia zine #botw zine #botw theory #botw fanfiction #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw

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fanfic-cave · 3 years

Note

Request incoming 😄 Since I love your OC Sera so much and Hunter / Omega as Dad / Daughter how about they teach Omega random daily stuff? Like swimming, dancing, singing, ice skating, baking or building an enormous sand castle. Something nice. And then the rest of the batch comes and they all have fun together. Like the big family that they are (at least in my head)

Okay that's not specific at all but I love the random nice familytime 💙

Breather

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: People in swimsuits/swimming, kissing/romance, star wars swears, alotta fluff.

Summary: Sera and the Bad Batch decide to take a day off. They enjoy some time relaxing and having fun, and Sera gets the opportunity to teach Omega how to swim.

Authors note: This is in response to a request, and I was really feeling some fluff. I like the idea of writing a chapter or two where its more relaxed and they get to spend some happy fun times together. Hope you enjoy!

@mangoberry99

The swimwear felt strange against Sera’s body. I don’t think I’ve ever worn something like this, she contemplated internally.

She frowned and looked at herself. She had picked this up at her last stop at a planet with a decent market, where they sold good clothes. The suit was a more modest 2 piece; swim shorts and a top with thin straps, and it exposed some of her back as well as a small strip of her midriff. The shorts were an emerald green, and the top was patterned with the same color green along with white and brown.

This is kriffing weird. She never wore anything so exposed, or tight. Not in public anyways. She then shoved away her thoughts, gathered her belongings, and ran off to meet up with the rest of the group.

They all really needed a break. Doing supply runs and odd jobs while avoiding being hunted by the empire was surprisingly draining. Sera had the idea that the group all go explore the lake just a few miles off of where she currently took up residence. She had crossed it several times while exploring on her own. The lake was a decent size, in a remote area, and it didn’t look like any creatures were living inside it, which seemed as good as it could get.

Sera wrapped herself up in a cloak she had and headed down to the lake, ready to meet them there. After walking a few minutes through a forested area, she could see the lake within distance, and noticed everyone was there.

Hunter was with Omega, they were both by the shallow part. Omega was kicking up water and laughing, clearly enjoying herself. Wrecker was already completely soaked, and was swimming more towards the deeper end, although he looked a bit awkward as he swam. Crosshair wasn’t near the water, and had opted to sit on one of the folding chairs they brought along. Tech was closer to the edge of the water, datapad in hand, and he looked to be researching, as well as taking dedicated notes. Echo had joined Crosshair at the safe distance away from the water, but he seemed to be relaxing. Sera had noted they all wore their swim clothes as she had requested.

“Hey!” She smiled and waved at the group, still holding onto her cloak. Everyone’s heads turned in her direction. “Sera!” Omega waved back enthusiastically. She wore a one piece swimsuit and had already gotten wet. She ran over to greet Sera, Hunter following close behind.

“This was such a good idea!” She jumped excitedly. “Of course it was kid.” Sera smiled at her and ruffled her hair, to which Omega responded by laughing. Sera’s eyes went up to Hunter now. He had green swim shorts on and wasn’t wearing a shirt, and it looked like he looked like he had been splashed a few times. Sera drew from her memory the last time she saw Hunter's shirtless body when he was injured back in Dantooine, and suddenly she felt her heart rate pick up.

“Hey Hunter.” Sera did her best to sound casual, and also made a point to stare at his face, not his chest. Hunter smirked at her, and then nodded in greeting. “I have to agree with Omega,” Tech began speaking. “This trip has given me the opportunity to analyze the flora on this planet, and a body of freshwater seems to affect the plant growth nearby…” Tech went on and Sera began to zone out. After a minute of pretending to listen, Sera turned her head over to Echo and Crosshair.

“Hey! Are you two going to be lazy banthas the whole time?” She shouted at the two clones who were several feet from the waters edge. Echo lifted his head up, and seemed irritated at Sera. “I have a feeling that going in water isn’t going to turn out well for me.” He then lifted his prosthetic hand and gestured to the rest of his body. “Oh.” Sera felt a little bad for just shouting at him. Of course the water would mess with his machine parts. She quickly wrote him off and turned her attention to Crosshair. “What’s your excuse, blaster brain?” Sera found herself growing a little more comfortable with Crosshair lately, and she expressed it by calling him whatever bad name or insult came to her head.

“Kark off.” Crosshair replied. Sera liked to think he was feeling the same way, as they both threw the insults back and forth at each other like it meant nothing. “Crosshair can’t swim!” Wrecker yelled to the group, still swimming in the water. He laughed and splashed water in Crosshairs direction, but only got Hunter, Omega, and Sera slightly wet. Crosshair growled in Wreckers direction, to which Sera raised an eyebrow at. “So if we threw you into the lake-”

“Try me, mir’sheb.” Crosshair glared at Sera warningly. She laughed at him and raised her hands up, palms facing him. “Fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes at her, and continued to sit in his chair. Sera felt Omega grab her hand and she looked down at her.

“Hunter was helping me learn to swim, could you come too, Sera?” Omega looked up at you eagerly. Sera looked at Hunter and he shrugged at you, trying to convey he didn’t mind one way or the other. Kriff it. “Sure Omega,” Sera tossed aside her cloak, along with her insecurities. “By the time we’re through, you’ll be swimming laps.” Omega cheered to herself. Sera smiled down at her and began walking into the water.

While walking past him, Sera looked to Hunter and made eye contact with him for a brief moment. He had a wide eye, nearly slack jawed look adopted on his face. When their eyes met each other, he quickly corrected the expression and looked away from her, heading into the water with the two of them. Is he blushing? Sera smiled to herself at the thought.

Hunter and Sera actually made a decent team with teaching Omega. He helped keep her afloat, and taught her the basic form in simple terms. Sera would step in to encourage Omega, or join Hunter in explaining or correcting her form, even swimming alongside her. Omega was a surprisingly fast learner, and was paddling after 15 minutes had passed.

“Are you sure this is your first time swimming?” Sera remarked questioningly, as Omega circled around her in the lake. “Yup! You guys are great teachers!” Sera doubted that they were that good, and chalked it up to the fact that she was raised on Kamino, which was a saltwater planet. It probably didn’t make sense, but she didn’t want to think about any alternative reasoning.

“That’s not us kid, you’re a good learner.” Hunter added his comment as she continued swimming. He was watching her closely, and Sera could tell he was being protective over her. The thought made her laugh to herself, since Omega had grown to be plenty capable on her own. Who was she kidding though? Sera was pretty sure everyone was protective of her. After all, she had been keeping a close eye on Omega too.

The afternoon passed by quickly. Sera and Wrecker pulled a prank and managed to splash Crosshair. With Wreckers strength and Sera’s use of the force, their combined efforts was just enough for the water to reach Crosshair. He was pissed of course, but they all had a good laugh. Omega and Wrecker played games in the water, with Sera occasionally joining. Echo had dozed off a few times. Eventually, Tech dipped his toes in the lake and surprised Sera with how adept he was at swimming. As the sun dipped down and it began to grow dimmer, everyone decided it was a good time to head back.

“We have to come back again!” Omega remarked, towel around her shoulders as she walked ahead with Wrecker and Echo. Crosshair was at the head of the group, and had been the first to start leaving. “I’m sure we’ll get to come again.” Sera spoke to Omega, and really did hope they could find time to do things like this, instead of missions and hiding. Sera stopped and everyone in front of her continued walking. She tried to dry herself off with her cloak, still feeling soaked. The cloak didn't do much, and it was now too wet to be of any use. She felt herself shiver a bit.

“Here.” Hunter approached her from behind, offering her a large towel. He was in close proximity to her, and she could hear him breathing. She had to concentrate to keep her own breathing steady. “Thanks.” She took the towel and wrapped it around herself, then continued walking. Hunter joined her and they walked together, now more distant from the rest of the group. Being alone with him reminded her of the last time they were alone together. Right. The kissing. She felt her heart skip a beat as she remembered it.

“Thank you, for today.” Hunter pulled Sera from her thoughts. She realized there had been at least a minute of silence. Sera continued to look forward and smiled. “It was no problem. Thanks for coming.” She smiled in his direction and he glanced at her. She felt herself shiver again, and couldn’t tell if it was because she was cold, or if it was a reaction from his stare.

“Still cold?” Hunter asked. “Just a bit.” Sera answered quickly, and looked away from him. “Thank you. For the towel, though-” Her stammering was interrupted when Hunter put his arm around her. He rubbed her toweled arm on the opposite side, trying to warm her up with some friction. Sera was caught off guard, and audibly gasped. “Sorry, this should help you warm up, if you’re okay with it.” Hunter looked down to her questioningly, and had stopped his movements.

Sera reached up and grabbed his hand as she began to speak. “Of course, you just surprised me. Not the first time that's happened though.” She smiled up at him, almost smirking at the memories that flickered through her mind. Hunter laughed quietly at her expression. “Yeah, you get your fair share of it too.” He pulled her in as he spoke, and Sera could feel his warmth from his body, with the more exposed part of her arm making contact with his skin. Electricity sparked through her body from feeling his touch.

They walked in silence for another minute, content with sharing each other's company, and body heat too. “We’re almost back.” Sera spoke up after some time had passed. The path was familiar to her, and she recognized they would turn a corner up ahead and her home would be within sight. Hunter stopped, and with his arm around Sera she stopped along with him. She looked up to him questioningly. “You okay?” She watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

Suddenly, he turned and pulled her into him, planting a kiss on her lips. A small squeaking noise escaped her, and then she relaxed and returned the kiss. One of Hunter's hands was on Seras cheek, the other wrapped around her, palm flat on her back. Sera reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in and herself up to better reach him. Although the kiss was gentle, she could feel the passion behind it. He stroked her cheek first, and then ran his fingers through her hair. Sera felt a sigh escape her, and she returned his kisses more eagerly now. After a minute of kissing, Hunter was the first to break away, but returned to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“Well, I didn’t expect that.” Sera looked up to him as he pulled back to see her face. “I had to do that again. I would say sorry, except I’m not.” Hunter held her gaze with no hesitation, and Sera could tell he was sincere. “Well, I’m glad you’re not.” She reached up to kiss his cheek, and they stood for a moment, embracing each other. She listened to his breathing, leaning her head on his shoulder. Hunter made small circles on her back with his hand, and rested his head on top of hers. She wished they could stay here like this.

“I have a feeling we won’t get to have another day like today for a while.” Sera nodded after Hunter spoke. They seemed to be on the same wavelength more often than not lately, almost like they knew what the other was thinking. She pulled away and sighed. “Who knows. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” She and Hunter looked at each other for another moment, and Sera could tell her lack of confidence in her statement showed. She then turned away and began to walk forward.

Let me have this, Sera thought as they walked together. Hunter intertwined his hand with hers. Just let me- let them breathe for a minute, before we get thrown back into the flames.

She didn’t know who she was pleading with internally, but she continued to silently hope they could keep their moment of peace.

#tbb #the bad batch #clone force 99 #hunter #crosshair #echo #wrecker #tech #omega #jedi #oc story #hunter x jedi #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #tcw #the clone wars #asks

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bao3bei4 · 3 years

Text

kpop music videos that gave their fans sexual brainworms

OR accidental fetish pop and its fringe fanbase: meditations on gendered desire

large warning here: i am someone who has been into kpop for the past 10 years. however, i have always been an extremely casual fan. i do write fic, but not rpf. if any of that makes you not want to hear me talk about kpop rpf (or you don’t want to hear about it in general), please keep moving.

anyway, obviously pop is corporate, soulless, and manufactured. but sometimes some truly bizarre shit gets past the committees and destroys a generation. these are their stories.

the video that started this is all is got7’s just right, released july 10th, 2015.

yes that’s all 7 members of got7 (one is out of frame) shrunken down for your viewing pleasure. they live in your room and tell you you’re just right.

this sheer fetish power of this video is nerfed only by how utterly sexless it is.

they’re styled like and dance like this. it’s a totally unironic sendup of the seminal work that preceded it by four years, “what makes you beautiful” by the white kpop group “one direction.” the chaste energy of the whole thing makes you legitimately wonder if the good people at jyp have just never heard of microphilia. (during a dramatic reading of this piece, here a friend interjected seriously, “i think it’s korean culture not to talk about things like this, fetishes in the workplace.”)

it’s for the best, honestly, though because the actress in the music video is lee ja in, who was 11 when the video was shot. considering that the members themselves ranged in age from 18-23 at the time, i think it’s actually very impressive that we only have to cancel one.

you receive absolutely no prizes for guessing that it’s jackson wang we’re sending to social justice prison. why’d he do this? no one asked.

at any rate, got7 fans, or “gans” (they actually call themselves igot7s which is too twee for me), have much to think about here: all 7 very small members of got7 sneaking into their room, possibly weird age play, and jackson wang eating a very large cake.

let’s see what they actually did.

twitter was actually very tame. the most charged thing i found was (unsurprisingly) from a bts fan (“ban”). i don’t actually know what it means, but i think it means something.

so, of course, i turned to the internet’s last bastion of free speech, where you can say whatever the fuck you want and receive cheers, or as the kids say, “kudos.” that is, i read fanfiction.

for those of you who don’t know your herstory, i started my journey at Asianfanfics.com, where, at the time of writing, there were 12,067 got7 stories. i want to start this by saying that i think feminism won, because someone was paying real human dollars to advertise their irene/wendy fanfiction on a banner ad, which is quite possibly a win for women for everywhere.

anyway, Asianfanfics.com’s search engine sucks ass (i kept on finding stories about different combinations of bts members worrying about their weight and being reassured by another member that were entitled “just right”), so i decided to look through all got7 stories written between july 2015 and december 2015.

but, alas, not a single got7 microphilia fic to be found.

also, some genre commentary while i’m here: i think the stories i respect the most are the “[y/n] is a ordinary girl who’s assigned to be got7’s manager! can she make them into superstars? as sparks begin to fly, can she keep it professional?” like fuck yeah that sounds like a kickass dating sim. it almost definitely already is one. i salute all the teens around the world for buying into the fantasy of dating a boy band member that they themselves sell you.

however, i don’t think i respect the “[member a] and [member b] are mafia/jocks and nerds/college students/high schoolers” concepts. in my opinion, the whole fantasy of boy band member is their personas, their hidden real personalities, their celebrity, and the show business setting. find a different intellectual property if you wanna write about school. i even respect the “yugyeom drank girl juice [not estrogen] and turned into a sexy girl” story more, because at least it knows exactly what it wants, and also because they’re all still boy band members. well, band members. shout out to yugyeom.

so, anyway, i looked elsewhere. at the time of writing, archive of our own only had 11,645 got7 stories, but it does have a better search, so it effectively has more. as an aside, i think it’s so funny, and mildly disorienting at first, that archive of our own separates the “music & bands” section from the “celebrities & real people” section. boy band members aren’t real people.

the first problem i encountered is that only 20 or so stories were written within a year of just right’s release. absolute cringe gans. don’t you care about your boys? there were zero stories tagged “vore” or “microphilia” either. stories containing the word “tiny” that were rated either “explicit” or “mature” were all normal (“normal”) size fetishization rather than, you know, just right.

however, i learned my lesson from twitter. i realized that what had happened was that watching this video had created sleeper agents, just waiting for their activation phrase. that activation phrase? bangtan boys. and yeah, lo and behold, there was one! unfortunately (fortunately?) it had nothing to do with got7, let alone just right, so i’m not going to talk about it.

basically what i learned is that this video may have actually been very normal, and my brain has just been destroyed by being too online at a young age.

however, there are plenty more videos in this genre. i present to you exo wolf, a banger from may 30th, 2013. i say banger, because in a comedic inversion, it’s actually fucking terrible.

this video is pretty self-explanatory in terms of why it might induce certain responses.

let’s get the formalities out of the way. this video, the member who’s getting cancelled is kai. he has braids in this video :/

also skating on thin ice: xiumin and chen. guys what was up with the whole exo-m thing? like, we’re gonna have a cpop subgroup, but it’s going to be part chinese members and part korean members that we’ll give a chinese name? unsurprisingly, the three exo members who have departed from the group are all chinese. they weren’t able to stand the microaggressions probably. but xiumin and chen remain uncancelled as an official chinese apology for five thousand of years of on-and-off invasions of korea. sorry guys that was kinda fucked up. our bad!

anyway, there are basically three avenues for exo fans to take: 1) humans with wolfish characters (usually wolf pack dynamics, which even wolves themselves don’t fucking use so i think all of you should shut up. the real omega here is your brain), 2) werewolves (duh), and 3) wolves with human characteristics (i.e. standard furry fare).

exo themselves let all these possibilities exist at the same time, superimposing them over each other, which is very woke and egalitarian of them. let’s see what the people decided. awoo.

Asianfanfics dot com had many stories in this vein. i feel very validated that this time i was able to correctly predict a fetish. that said, briefly returning to my earlier comment regarding alternate universes: it’s intense psychic whiplash reading about these vampires and werewolves, and going okay okay luhan is a vampire this that whatever, and then seeing the actual real performance photos the author attaches at the bottom of each chapter. bro i forgot these were actual people.... it breaks immersion so bad... i’m sorry, i just can’t believe that any of these dancing boys are having weird vampire sex with wings or whatever.

archive of our own also had many stories in this vein. and i think there are some important difference between the two sites worth talking about.

first of all, i think the higher engagement rate of archive of our own really enables some of the authors to get super bold. it makes Asianfanfics.com seem a little quaint, actually. like the wordcounts are waaay longer, for one. it’s uncommon for a story hosted on Asianfanfics.com to be more than a few thousand words long (most of them could easily be published in the new yorker), whereas some of these archive of our own people have written full length novels about if the members of exo were werewolves. i guess it’s just intensely demoralizing for the aff.com crew to get, like, three comments per story.

the second big difference is that i’m noticing more common themes between the ao3 crew’s writing. like stan intertextuality, or plagiarism, or whatever, but they seem to be implicitly engaging with each other’s characterizations, storylines, and tropes. i think it is because they probably all follow each other on twitter. (i have been active on twitter for three weeks now so i am an expert on fanfiction twitter.)

anyway, like not that i am a particularly big gan (cannot even list all the members), but these people seem to have reached a very specific consensus on how jackson wang, for instance, would react in a variety of situations that really surprises me? if i were to sit down and write a got7 story, i think the fuckboitude, the douchebaggery is a big part of his charm. not to be nationalist or anything, but for god’s sake, he’s from hong kong. but these people have him as very sensitive, lots of protective instincts. not that i understood what anyone on aff.com was doing with his character either, but they did all seem to be doing different things. “kudos” to that, i guess.

but: exo. wolf. i searched the “wolves” tag. this filtered the list down from 33459 stories to 52 stories. and the “wolves” tag was very different from the aff.com “wolf” tag. for the most part, aff.com liked stories where a member was a wolf (usually shapeshifting), feral boy, lots of y/n, lots of y/n dating a feral boy who is secretly a wolf.

ao3 really, really, really likes alpha/beta/omega stories. sorting by the most popular stories, only five on the first page weren’t a/b/o. and one of them was a cis f!baekhyun story, so i think the intended effect was communicated. anyway, let’s talk about some of the themes.

first of all, i’m disappointed. today’s bonus cancellation is of ao3 “wolves” writers. why the fuck are you drawing so heavily from european wolves?? there are wolves in asia!! you don’t need to keep giving their packs and ranks weird latin names. i will kill you. i hate italy. korea literally has a native wolf. i hate all of you!!! if you want to write caucasian wolves go watch that dumbass cw show!!!! my god.

the second theme (the first one was white supremacy) is that no one wants to be a wolf who fucks. i think that we need a sex positivity movement, or something, for omega rights. like, are all of you doing okay? you’re queering misogyny by inventing new genders to oppress. another level to “no one wants to be a wolf...” is the “who fucks” part. there are so many consent issues. and not even in like, a sexy intentional way? in a “i genuinely do not think this author understands how their writing comes off” way. unfortunately i am sensitive to untagged sexual coercion, and there was a lot of that.

at any rate, the aff.com wolves were at peace with being wolves, very self-actualized. the ao3 wolves know that every minute they spend alive on this bitch of an earth is suffering, and also sex.

the third theme is the evolution of y/n. y/n, who, in a startlingly woke move for aff.com, is almost always korean, is a girl main character stumbling into love, boy bands, and wolves (i think it’s because aff.com is oldschool kpop fandom, so therefore heavily asian itself in userbase). but y/n is not the main character in ao3 stories. she is the straight best friend. in what i think is a hilarious move, ao3 authors invert the gay best friend paradigm to give the gay main character a straight girl as best friend. she usually calls him “a gay,” she has lots of thoughts on boys, and she knows his sexuality better than he does and before he does. (sidebar: if all the men are gay, and all the women are straight...)

there’s a really fun twist to this, though, because the main character is always a self-insert in fanfiction. but where older fanfiction like aff.com was at peace with this and literalize it via y/n shenanigans, modern fic writers who haven’t finished distangling their complicated relationship with wanting to be a man who loves other men instead simply imbue their main character with their essence. a little voodoo doll sehun, with a lock of y/n hair.

this creates a deeply ambivalent relationship with gender in these stories. the main character is usually an omega, but one who resents being an omega. their body and its parts is usually described, if at all, as ostensibly intersex (except more offensively), but in practice, these discourses inscribe a trans body. (nb: i think cis writers approach this in a really fucked up fetishizing way, but i hope by this point we know that that goes without saying) it’s incredibly straightforward to read this, and see the underlying desires and fears in a heady cocktail of unfiltered writing that’s deeply confessional. you know when freud had people say whatever the fuck they wanted and figured they’d eventually free associate into releasing their subconscious into reality? yeah.

okay, and while we’re on the topic, let’s talk f(x) nu abo, released on may 4th, 2010.

this is a blitzy, maximalist, amped up dance hit that even has its own applause and cheers built in. it’s so fucking annoying, and i love it.

this song is on here because the second most popular kpop a/b/o story on ao3 is called “nu abo” except it’s about bts. that’s offensive enough in its own right. write something about f(x) (702 works). when will women win the right to have their own self-lubricating holes.

anyway, even though f(x) is probably innocent in all of this, i’m still cancelling amber liu.

for queerbaiting. who told her to look like ruby rose but hot? and for what? i’m also cancelling her for racism, but that wasn’t in this video.

moving on to a double feature: vixx voodoo doll and vixx chained up, released november 19, 2013 and november 9, 2015 respectively. this is because while voodoo doll is more formative, i think the fans who write fanfiction today got into kpop more recently, so we are casting a wide net.

anyway, voodoo doll is jam packed with weird pseudo-medical imagery, blood, vivisection, bondage, puppet shit, femdom, sharps, piercings, asphyxiation, dollification, stabbing/penetration metaphors, and a really sick and catchy dance. god that looks like the list of tags on the a/b/o wolf stories.

for this song, we’re cancelling you, for being way too into this song when you were 13.

vixx voodoo doll made me goth i guess! insert that pic of the your music saved me sign, except it saved me from getting into emo or pop punk probably.

chained up, comparatively, is much more tame. the only thing of note about it is that there are around 10 completely different chokers and choker looks the members wear in this music video. also they’re singing about being chained up, but that seemed a bit obvious.

we could argue that voodoo doll is gay while chained up is gay (derogatory); that voodoo doll is queer while chained up is gay; that chained up is a sensitive masterpiece of omega4omega sexuality. but we’re not going to.

we’re going to talk about what voodoo doll fanfiction was and was not. first, Aff.com had plenty of it. however, i was extremely disappointed to see that much of it did not hew to the spirit of vixx voodoo doll. my god, the voodoo doll becoming the one preying upon you disgusts me. the fantasy of the voodoo doll is that of absolute power. the idea that the doll itself has agency? instantly breaks the fantasy. i’m even not into voodoo dolls and i’m offended.

i also don’t think it’s part of the voodoo doll fantasy to release the doll. the only story on there that involved Y/N kidnapping vixx members like in the music video was unavailable because the author deactivated their account. come back qxeen what did you see.

i think this got off track, actually, in that i was mostly wondering why these people imprinted differently onto vixx voodoo doll than i did. like i don’t think you’re supposed to actually like straightforwardly absorb the morals and aesthetics of music videos like it’s propaganda. however, it’s more entertaining if you do. i hope ao3 doesn’t let me down.

out of the then 5932 works in the vixx fandom (the least out of every group so far, excluding f(x) because they’re women), 59 of them included the word “voodoo” somewhere. that’s 1%. i legitimately can’t tell if that’s high or not.

after some more cursory reading through the first page of popular results, my big takeaway is that people watched that video and wanted to be tortured and enslaved? but not, like, in a sexy way where the torturing is the point, the way where the point is to suffer bravely and beautifully, to endure the world’s harms like jesus on the cross, and then to fall into the arms of a beautiful boy who may or may not be the one hurting you in the first place.

there’s a certain predictability to these fantasies. like it’s not even masochism, which would be fun at least, it’s literally just like the desire to be beautiful, even as you suffer. and i do find that a little boring. (but, i mean, you can’t help being a woman!)

sidebar: on chained up. what’s interesting about chained up, is that most of the then 38 “chained up” works (likely because the video has no storyline) are about the members fucking during chained up promotions. no one’s ever actually chained up, but whatever. it’s fine. it’s fine!

anyway, here, more than ever, the nature of desire is stripped bare. i’ve written before [elsewhere in the unreleased tshirt cinematic universe] on how kpop boys are, through fandom, re-formed as white, or more strongly, i guess, blank slates. it’s really interesting to me how so much of this dynamic of projection is enabled by the fact that they’re asian men. they’re infantilized, feminized vessels; they’re seductive, but childlike, oblivious to their own charms, so nonthreatening; they have uncontrollable desires for sex, they’re scared of sex. and above all else, white women submit themselves to them, insert themselves into them. basically kpop fans tend to rework old school yellow peril and emasculation fantasies to reenact their own desires, often white, often cishet on them.

what i am saying is that there’s another thesis about forced feminization and its racialized subtext in here. obviously gender is a racialized construct to begin with, but like it’s fascinating to argue that when white women remake asian men according to their own desires, that is, into themselves, they (hopefully) unintentionally echo these old fears about the sexual order.

it illuminates, it seems, the underlying dynamic in the denigration of asian men, which is of course the fear of miscegenation. now, my breathtaking ability to make everything about me aside, miscegenation is interesting because it presents a racial synthesis, beginning to collapse and trouble the artificial designations of purity. so we make asian men into white women, and end up with an unsettling hybrid. i’m sure this has deep implications for me personally.

but i think we already knew that quite a few of these people had yellow fever, so let’s talk about the gender dialectic at play. basically, the above dynamic, of making men into women (whether literally, in body; or subjectively, in mind; or even relationally, as they are objectified into passive vessels for your desire) coexists with the ostensibly converse dynamic, in which the straight women desires to be a gay man. these aren’t necessarily in conflict: it could easily be that these are different writers writing different stories, that both are ways of expressing discontent with existing in a raced, gendered body, or even that the end product of both is the same.

it’s been a while without a picture. all of you now have the legal right to hunt and kill me for making a d&g joke.

anyway, what i want to talk about is how these two fantasies can coexist. that by making a man into yourself, you can speak on your own desire in a passive way. my normal interest is analyzing forced masc fantasies (albeit in chinese opera lol), and they bear little to no resemblance to this kind of fantasy. this kind offers plausible deniability, of course, because wanting things is embarrassing. but also the fantasy isn’t about wanting to be a man, it’s about having no choice but to be a failed one. the gender pessimism running through these stories is palpable. basically andrea long chu wants what wolf fanfiction writers know: everyone is an omega, and everyone hates it.

at any rate, this racialized dynamic is one that i wasn’t sure how to bring up throughout this piece, mainly because there is no definitive way for me to tell the race of any individual writer, beyond just like the clear and present vibes that i receive. but i think it structures a lot of the fantasies contained in this essay. (i felt more comfortable bringing up the gendered dynamic, because it was fairly trivial to find out the current gender of the person writing each story i was reading.)

obviously we should return to the specter haunting this conversation: the very much alive david eng. i think this sort of argument is familiar to readers of racial castration, especially his chapter on m. butterfly. btw sorry for mentioning that play 2 out of 3 posts on this blog. i have problems.

let’s talk about the parallel imagery between the depiction of gallimard’s final speech and the fanfiction i’ve described above. in it, gallimard makes himself into his own dream woman, dressing in yellowface and robes, the costume of puccini’s original madame butterfly. and he laments his lost love:

there is a vision of the orient that i have. of slender women in chong sams and kimonos who die for the love of unworthy foreign devils. who are born and raised to be the perfect women. who take whatever punishment we give them, and bounce back, strengthened by love, unconditionally.

in that, i see the self insert, and i see the sufferer of vixx voodoo fic. the fantasy that gallimard has about asian women is repeated, this time about asian men and a helpless identification with them. and on some level, gallimard’s women do have something very compelling to identify with: they suggest that there’s a way to endure white male violence without sacrifice, and even more potently, to enjoy it on some level.

but onward to the titular racial castration. eng argues that gallimard’s wilful ignorance of song’s true gender is a psychic castration -- song’s masculinity is diminished so that his own can be enhanced within their relationship. this, eng believes, acts out “richard fung’s contention that in western imaginary ‘asian and anus are conflated.’” this process stabilizes the relationship between the asian man and the white woman: they occupy the same place within the sexual dyad.

this is, i think, why some people are addicted to writing from the bottom’s perspective. again -- not implying that irl bottoms don’t exist or that bottoms are psychically castrated lol -- but rather that you can fantasize about this ideal asian man that you can come to embody. in kpop rpf, rather than it being between a white man and an asian man (unless someone’s started writing chad future fic), it’s between two asian men. so this transformation is performed. whiteness is always intruding and so i think eng is helpful here to making it visible again.

this essay isn’t a callout or actual cancellation or anything like that, i do wanna be clear. i guess i just like talking about fantasies, even the embarrassing ones, and where they come from. i think oftentimes in fandom spaces, we write a lot of stories off as idfic, and i think virtually every single one of the stories i referenced to write this fairly uncontroversially fall into that category. but i think calling something an “id” something or the other naturalizes the satisfaction it gives as purely instinctual and unconscious, when i do think there are deeper narratives at play. while i didn’t ever actually reference the base here (sorry), i do think it’s worth talking about how real world power shapes & maintains the superstructure, and thereby our fantasies.

anyway in conclusion, maybe i was the one with sexual brainworms the whole time.

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ohsnapcracklepopfriends · 3 years

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To be named GGMU fic: Part three - Drunk Mancs and Karaoke Don't Mix

After way too long, I'm back with another instalment of my GGMU fic (three parts down, four to go). Sorry, it took so long, life has been insanely hectic. I just wrote this in an hour of power writing, I hope you like it. Part one and part two if you haven't read them <3

Christmas parties at Sky were generally a disaster. Not only did they usually involve a room full of people all too competitive for their own good, there was usually the presence of both alcohol and cell phones which were a dangerous combination. All of this was worse to witness sober. Jamie had made the terrible decision of being the designated driver. Gary had one rule that he’d made clear to Jamie when they first started going out together: do not put drunk Gary in a cab. Gary’s a handsy drunk with zero self-control. They both know sitting in the back of a cab with drunk Gary was a recipe for a traumatized cabbie and a couple of disastrous news articles in the morning. So Jamie had agreed to drive, and that was fine. He was fine with it, truly. Jamie watched as Gary danced around in the bar they had rented out, jumping around freely while Graeme looked on with his disapproving grimace. Jamie wished he could be dancing with him, blaming it on the alcohol.

Jamie took a sip of his apple juice--which was fucking good, okay? Back off. He swished it around in his mouth, pretending it was something stronger. He swallowed and looked up. Gary was still jumping around without a care in the world. Jamie could tell he was really drunk. Gary was a total lightweight and he’d probably had about four beers to get to this point. Jamie chuckled to himself, thinking back to the nights they’d shared together when they first started dating. They’d spent quite a few nights on the floor of Gary’s living room with a bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. Jamie treasured those nights. He treasured the moments where Gary was buzzing and less scared of his emotions, letting them just enjoy their time together without Gary’s mind spinning.

Gary looked in Jamie’s direction. His face lit up when he saw Jamie leaning against the counter. He scrambled over until he stood right up against Jamie’s shoes.

“Did you see Redders?” Gary asked in a rush. Jamie laughed at the big goofy smile on his lips. He did, in fact, see Redders. Redders had taken to the small stage in the corner after his third pint. He’d been singing away at the top of his lungs--very poorly, Jamie might add--for the past hour or so.

“I want to sing, James. Come sing with me.” He tugged at Jamie’s arm. Jamie had fallen for this trap before. Last year he’d made the mistake of joining Gary for some drunk karaoke and ended up trending on Twitter. Jamie was not a singer for a reason.

“I’m sure Redders will sing with you” Jamie offered. Gary pouted. Gary was one of those people who were easy to imagine as a child. He could see a younger Gary in the way he acted when he was tired, grumpy, stubborn, and bleary-eyed. He could see a younger Gary in the way he giggled at Jamie’s jokes. He could see a younger Gary in the way he pouted during times like this, trying to sway Jamie to agree with him. It worked more than Jamie liked to admit.

“I’ll come and watch you?” Jamie tried to bargain again. Gary nodded this time and dragged Jamie towards the stage. Jamie happily let himself be pulled along. Gary’s hand was warm and sweaty where it was clutching at Jamie’s, but Jamie didn’t mind. After playing football for that long, he couldn’t be bothered by sweat anymore. After one testimonial match, Jamie found he actually liked Gary sweaty: he liked to lick beads of sweat off of Gary’s furrowed brows and watch him shutter--but that’s a story for another time.

Jamie wished they could stay like this, Gary holding his hand tightly, tugging insistently on it every few seconds, but all too soon, they found themselves at the stage. Gary dropped his hand and hopped up onto the small, wooden platform. Redders was still on the stage, red-faced and (poorly) belting the ending to Tainted Love. The stage was so small that the two men took up most of the space. Gary reached behind Redders to grab the second microphone. He grabbed Redders by the shoulder and whispered in his ear. Redders’ amused smile made Jamie nervous: what the hell did this drunk idiot have in mind?

Redders jumped off the stage with far too much grace for someone as injury prone and drunk as Jamie knew he was. He ran over to the karaoke machine and picked their song before scurrying back onto the stage to join Gary. Jamie was confused when the guitar started and he couldn’t place it.

“I got chills--” Redders started to sing and realization set into Jamie’s mind. Oh dear god, he thought, they’re doing Grease. “--It’s electrifying!” Jamie groaned. He couldn’t help himself. There was no way this wouldn’t somehow end up on Twitter. He knew sober Gary would not find this nearly as funny if it made headlines. Jamie started scanning the crowd for people with their phones out. Thankfully, most people had either gone home or were drowning themselves at the bar, after all, what was free booze for? Jamie noticed Geoff filming out of the corner of his eye. He practically ran over to him.

“You better shape up!” Gary starting singing now. He was by no means an angel, if Jamie was honest he was pretty fucking terrible. But like everything Gary did, he sang with a fiery passion and excitement that just made it utterly endearing. Jamie loved it when Gary sang.

“Give me that,” Jamie grabbed Geoff’s phone from his hands, which was pretty easy considering how sloshed he was. He barely even protested as Jamie deleted the videos and shut off his phone because Jamie was smart and knew Geoff was too far gone to figure out how to turn it back on.

“--tooooooo my heart I must be trueeeeeeee,” Gary was dancing around on the stage and Jamie couldn’t help but take a moment to stop worrying and just admire the carefree smile of his boyfriend, so blissfully happy as he made a fool out of himself in front of all of their colleagues. Jamie noticed that Gary was staring at him. Gary then brought his hand up to point directly at him.

“You’re the one that I want! Oh! Oh! Oh! Jamie!” Oh no. Oh no. This was a complete disaster. Jamie couldn’t stop himself, he jumped up on the stage. The limited space meant he had to stand pressed against Gary. Gary just smiled up at him and shoved his microphone up to Jamie’s lips. And as much as he hated it, Jamie could never deny him anything.

“Oh yes indeed,” Jamie half-sang, half spoke. It was awkward and hard to listen to even to his own ears, but Gary beamed at him and Jamie felt a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

And then he remembered why he got up here in the first place: not to sing, not to smile at Gary like a big, lovesick dork--no, he was here to put an end to this. He was here to take Gary home safely before any further disaster could strike just like he’d promised.

“If you’re filled with affection--” Redders started to sing again. Jamie used this opportunity to make their escape. He pried the microphone from Gary’s hands before placing it gently on the stage. He put his arm around Gary’s middle and firmly led him off the stage.

“Where are we going?” Gary asked. He was looking up at Jamie from where he was tucked against Jamie’s side. Jamie knew it was probably too intimate a position for them to hold in public but he found he was too exhausted to care.

“We’re going home, love,” Jamie said softly against Gary’s ear. Gary gave him a wicked grin and started to worm his fingers under Jamie’s jacket. Jamie pushed his arm away holding it against Gary’s side. This was not the time or place.

“You’re going to make me wait for it?” Gary asked. “That’s okay. It’ll be better when you fuck me later. I’ll be so ready. I’ll be begging for you.” Jamie let out a long breath. Fuck. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, they were out of the bar, walking down the street towards Jamie’s car. On the bright side, no one was close enough to hear Gary being far too drunk to care that he’s being far too loud. However, anyone could be on the street: reporters, idiots with cameras, though now Jamie is realizing that those are kind of the same thing. Jamie’s kidding, of course. He guessed he was kind of a journalist himself now. He generally thought of journalists as no-life drama vultures for the Daily Mail or worse The S*n.

Jamie was pretty used to wrangling drunk Gary into vehicles against his will, but this time was different. Gary was usually uncooperative just for the sake of being uncooperative. This trait just worsened after a few pints. That night Gary was shockingly content, though. He wasn’t argumentative or difficult, he was sweet and happy. He leaned into Jamie’s side on their walk and looked up at him like he just signed Messi for Man United (which Jamie couldn’t do obviously, and even if he could, he wouldn’t). When it came time to get into Jamie’s car, Gary went without complaint, let alone their usual wrestling match. Jamie was honestly getting kind of worried.

“Are you high?” He asked as he put the car in reverse. Jamie had never known Gary to smoke but he figured it was a possible explanation for his strange behaviour. Gary hummed in confusion.

“What?” He asked. Gary’s face was smushed against the passenger window, fogging up the glass with every breath.

“Are you okay?” Jamie rephrased his question for Gary’s scrambled brain, “you seem weird.”

“I’m not weird, James,” he said, his words even more drawn out than usual, “I’m happy.” He started humming something under his breath but it was so quiet that Jamie could not make it out over the engine. “Singing makes me happy, Jamie,” Gary said and Jamie knew. Gary was generally not as public of a singer as he had been that night, but he always loved singing. He sang in the shower, something that Jamie found entirely endearing. Jamie loved waking up in the morning to the sound of water and Gary’s slow voice. Jamie remembered Gary doing karaoke all the way back in their England days. He and Crouchy were always the most enthusiastic, though Jamie would never have guessed that until he saw it with his own eyes.

“I know,” Jamie said, “it makes me happy, too.” It was probably a little too honest but Jamie knew Gary wouldn’t notice. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” And yet again, Jamie just couldn’t say no to Gary. Jamie expected more of what he’d heard at the pub: some eighties songs, maybe an NSYNC song or two (Redders loved NSYNC). He didn’t expect Gary to start happily singing Glory Glory Man United in his fucking car.

“Gary, what the hell?” Jamie protested but Gary just shushed him and kept singing. Jamie could hear his feet tapping against the mat of the car. And right when Jamie was about to smack Gary in the head, he realized something: Gary was drunk. Now obviously it didn’t take a genius to figure that out: he’d been steadily drinking since the party began and you could see the drunkenness in his red, flushed ears. But Jamie realized that Gary’s drunk brain was prone to forgetting basic, fundamental information. Like, for example, that Jamie was a Scouser.

Jamie figured that in Gary’s drunk brain, he wanted to sing a song to make Jamie happy. But like he’d forgotten that Tracey played netball on New Year the year before or that he was a right-back on one especially wild Wednesday night, he had forgotten that the song that brought his manc heart so much joy, did not spark the same happy memories for his boyfriend. He wasn’t trying to get on Jamie’s nerves and that knowledge comforted Jamie enough not to reach over and strangle him. So Jamie just let him sing and quietly suffered as he drove along. He tried to tamp down the simmering irritation the song automatically sparked in the pit of his stomach.

Mercifully for Jamie, Gary drifted off in the passenger’s seat less than ten minutes into their drive. Jamie instead drove the rest of the way to the sound of Gary’s loud snores.

#carraville #jamie carragher #gary neville #my fic

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