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#epsilon shut up
tezuka-brainrot · 8 months
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I can't believe they put her on hormones. ♥️🏳️‍⚧️
Now put her back in the sunlight.
Epsilon. Estrogen.
Estrosilon.
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memory-fragment · 1 year
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IM IN HELL
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salemlunaa · 3 months
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❦ TAPPING INTO THE VOID BUT YOU ALWAYS FALL ASLEEP?
It’s okay sleepyhead, we’ve all been there…
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so a lot of people talk to me about the fact that they are trying to tap into the void/“I AM” but they will get super uncomfortable or just fall asleep trying. Then it cuts to them waking up pissed off and upset that they are still in their shitty realities. I feel like so many people have this issue but no one really speaks about it, and to get most blogs to give advice about this specific topic, a lot of the time you have to ask them directly by dming or asking. i’ve also had this problem and let me tell you it’s one: frustrating as hell to deal with and two: no one really speaks about this problem. Here, we talk a lot about giving up, getting too scared at the last second but we never talk about dozing off.
but never fear, sai is here!!
If you are struggling with this i want you to know that as frustrating as it is, it’s so easy to get out of this rut. I would highly recommend starting earlier, i personally love SATS as do many people in the community, but be honest with yourself love, if you see yourself sleeping off i recommend starting earlier than the state right before you sleep as you will have more control of your body.
I also want you guys to try sleeping to waves, whether it be alpha, epsilon, delta and whatever, fall asleep to waves, repeating “I AM” until you doze off. And i know it may be hard for your mind to stick to it but you can, i KNOW you can
you can even try entering during the day, and no it doesn’t always have to be at night because you’re a god and don’t need to be a slave to “time”. you can enter perfectly during the day and it’s just as easy as doing it in the night, don’t let limiting beliefs be the death of you. You can even use the day to affirm that when you sleep you immediately tap into the void/“I AM”, because you are a god, it will become fact when you decide.
I also need you guys to flip your thoughts, and you’ve probably heard this a thousand and one times so i will allow an eye roll just this once, BUT it’s actually something you need to do, don’t tell me “i get it, sai!!” and then come back after another day gone, don’t go around a cycle. I need you to live in the reality in which you are a master of the void and you have never slept off before. I’m gonna say this until i die but the law of assumption is a LAW not belief or superstition A LAW, meaning it can never, ever, ever fail. like ever. If you stand firm in the fact that you don’t have this problem and you are so powerful that there isn’t any time for sleeping, your reality will reflect that 110%
“i fell asleep again even though i told myself i was entering today”
“i hate myself omg i slept off AGAIN”
“i’m such a failure”
SHUT UP, SERIOUSLY? like do i seriously need to remind you who YOU ARE?
“i am a master at the void, failure simply doesn’t exist to me”
“i tap into the void/“I AM” so fast that i don’t even have time to sleep”
“i’m a god and i’ve decided the void always goes well for me”
You can do it, i dont think so, i KNOW it, for a fact, because you’re a god and i’ll be damned if you give up on everything because your body keeps dozing off.
YOU DONT FALL ASLEEP. YOU GET IN INSTANTLY. FLIP YOUR THOUGHTS, SLEEPYHEAD, AND YOULL FIND THAT YOUR DREAM LIFE ISNT FAR… 💋💞
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elix8r · 7 months
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Monkey Bars (sjy) Part 2
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PART ONE
PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader
GENRES: smut, angst (so much in this part), college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers
WARNINGS (for this part): profanity, underage drinking, violence, depression, so much slut shaming, kind of toxic relationship?, lots of crying and emotions, mentions of sex tape, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, victim blaming
SUMMARY: Jake Sim was like the epitome of the perfect fourth-grade boyfriend. He had it all – being a year older automatically put him on the cool list (which in turn also boosted your popularity), genuinely kind, and very cute. But then, the earth-shattering truth that he was a two-timing cheater hit you like a ton of bricks. You caught him red-handed, holding another girl's hand and it devastated you beyond measure. So of course, in your nine-year-old mind, there was only one deserving punishment – a forceful push off the monkey bars during recess, resulting in a broken arm. 
And so, the battle lines were drawn. You and Jake became sworn enemies, a feud that carried on even into college. You saw him as a total fuckboy who always knew how to get under your skin, while he saw you as a snobby bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. But fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had other plans. Out of a class brimming with a hundred other possibilities, it was Jake who ended up being your assigned partner. 
Clearly, the world had favorites and you weren’t on that list.
WORD COUNT: 18.1k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i know it’s been almost a year since the first part came out and so much has happened since then but seriously thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this it really means so much to me that this story was loved as much as it was and i hope this last part doesn’t disappoint! seriously love you guys so much and enjoy! 🫶
THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST
GLOSSARY
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You didn’t really know how the rest of the weekend went. In fact, you weren’t even sure what day of the week it was, but honestly, that was the least of your worries. Since Friday, you had been holed up in your room, refusing to leave your bed. After running out of the bar, it was as if you lost all your memory. You had a hard time recollecting everything when you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and swollen eyes.
According to Wonyoung, when she and Lily followed you out, you were in a state of absolute hysteria, hunched over on the streets, and dry heaving. Niki and Jungwon had stayed behind, and while you were trying to get away, Jungwon had apparently threw a punch, resulting in both of them getting kicked out. But neither of them cared. They came out of the bar seething with anger, not only with how the three boys treated you but also with the realization of what one of their own brothers had done to you. It was as if your body shut down, and Niki ultimately had to carry you back to your dorm. Since then, you haven't left the comfort of your bed.
Throughout the weekend, Wonyoung made sure you were left alone and took charge of your phone, shielding you from any more heartbreaking news. She couldn't bring herself to disclose the truth to you, knowing that what you had assumed was indeed true, and the reality was even more devastating than she had feared. A video was circulating, spreading like wildfire, and it seemed that a large portion of the school had already gotten ahold of it.
Your best friend had also held back in revealing that she had marched over to Epsilon Nu after tucking you in on Friday night and ended up getting AES banned from the EpNu house for the rest of the semester. None of your sisters seemed to care though as they were quick to stand in solidarity with you and wanted no association with their former brother fraternity. In fact, Yeji (AES’ President) had called an emergency meeting the next morning, which you were obviously absent from, to address the severity of this situation and how no one was to engage with the fraternity for the remainder of the semester. Once again, none of your sorority sisters seemed to protest as they all praised Wonyoung for the actions she had taken.
Wonyoung was never one for violence, but upon discovering what Jake had done to you, her sister, best friend, and soulmate, she felt an overwhelming need for him to face the consequences. Jungwon, of course, did his best to reason with her, urging her not to make any rash decisions, but Niki stood firmly in support of Wonyoung's impending actions.
Jake had just put the final touches on your shared project before submitting it when his door was forcefully thrown open. Jay, startled from his slumber on the other side of the room, was bewildered but still groggy. Jake, however, recognized the situation the moment he saw Wonyoung's face twisted in absolute fury. He was too slow to react as she delivered a resounding slap across his cheek, setting off a chain of chaos. Jay was now fully awakened as Jungwon tried to restrain Wonyoung, and Niki stood in the doorway, glaring at Jake. Despite Jungwon's efforts, Wonyoung effortlessly broke free from his grasp and landed a solid punch on Jake’s face, causing him to be met with a searingly painful sensation. The commotion attracted the attention of several of his fraternity brothers, who rushed over to assess the situation. The sight that greeted them was far from what they had anticipated.
Jay and Jungwon struggled to hold back Wonyoung, who had turned feral, screaming and attempting to break free in order to continue her assault on the boy now bleeding on the floor. Jake made no attempt to fight back or escape; he simply absorbed the blows, unable to meet anyone's gaze as guilt washed over him. He knew that once the truth about his actions became known to everyone, he would be left with nothing.
It took the combined effort of about five boys to finally restrain Wonyoung, but by then, the entire house had caught wind of the incident through her passionate outbursts. The piercing looks Jake received from his fraternity brothers only intensified his overwhelming sense of shame. He was immediately summoned into Heeseung's room for an impromptu meeting to address the situation.
"What the actual fuck, Jake!" Heeseung's disbelief was eclipsed by his anger. While Jake had always been one of the more unruly members of the fraternity, this crossed a line that even Heeseung couldn't fathom.
Jake pressed a towel to his still-bleeding nose, remaining silent with his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Jesus fucking Christ so you’re just not going to say anything?” Heeseung scoffed at Jake’s lack of response as he paced around his room. Then, the door opened revealing Taehyun who was in charge of risk management. He entered in silence as he eyed Jake before turning to Heeseung. 
“Soobin thinks you should call Yeji. Wonyoung’s having to be guarded by like five people. She’s crazy like she just yanked Sunghoon by his hair and threw him across the room like he was nothing, it was actually insane. The guys are kind of scared, what do you want me to do?” Taehyun’s normally big eyes were even wider as he informed EpNu’s president of their current situation. 
Heeseung, obviously stressed, exhaled really loudly and combed through his hair. “I’ll handle her and I’m calling Yeji right now. Can you take care of him? I’ll send Yeonjun up to help.” He shot Jake one last look before leaving. 
After Heeseung departed, the room fell into an eerie silence. In contrast to Heeseung's exasperation, Taehyun remained ominously quiet as he took a seat at Heeseung's desk. His unwavering stare fixed on Jake, and as mentioned earlier, Taehyun had a menacing aura when angered, which sent waves of terror through Jake.
"Is it true? What Wonyoung is accusing you of?" Taehyun's voice was cold, devoid of any sympathy for the bleeding boy.
Jake finally mustered the courage to meet Taehyun's gaze. Every fiber of his being urged him to avert his eyes, yet this time he decided to speak up. "Kind of."
Taehyun scoffed, unsatisfied with his response. "What the fuck does that mean? It's a yes or no question."
As Jake opened his mouth to reply, the door burst open, revealing a tall figure. Unlike Taehyun's icy glare, Yeonjun exuded an entirely different energy. He appeared visibly angered. "Did you fucking do it?"
"He says he 'kind of' did it, whatever that means," Taehyun informed the older male, rolling his eyes in Jake's direction.
Yeonjun narrowed his eyes, casting his gaze downward at Jake, both literally and figuratively, as he stood towering over him while Jake remained seated on the bed. "Alright, then what does that mean?"
Jake felt as though he was trapped in an interrogation room, suffocating under the weight of their scrutinizing stares. "I didn't intentionally share the videos. Some of the guys got hold of them and sent them in a groupchat to everyone during practice."
"So it's not your fault that they were leaked, then?" Yeonjun probed further, his confusion evident as he questioned why Jake bore a guilty expression.
Jake let out a heavy sigh before finally confessing, "Yeah, it's not entirely my fault when the videos first leaked, but I didn't do enough to shut it down. I don't know what came over me, but they kept pushing me to show more, and then Jeongin said some things that angered me, so I ended up giving them what they wanted. I thought they would drop it after that, but instead, they started treating me like some sort of god or something, and my ego got the better of me, so I let it continue. Even at that moment, I knew it was messed up, but for some reason, I couldn't stop myself. I just never expected them to confront her about it."
As Taehyun and Yeonjun absorbed Jake's explanation, their demeanors shifted dramatically. Taehyun stood up, seething with anger as Jake finished speaking. "You didn't think they would go after her and harass her about it? Are you seriously that fucking naive? They literally witnessed her most intimate moments, so of course, they targeted her! Unlike us, girls are constantly slut-shamed even for being even the slightest sexual!"
Taehyun practically screamed at Jake, unable to comprehend how he could have been so oblivious to the consequences his actions would have on you. Taehyun struggled to restrain himself from physically attacking Jake, his rage barely contained.
"Jesus, Jake. Taehyun is right. What the fuck were you thinking? Did you ever stop to consider Y/N? Fuck, man. Now you're going to face the repercussions of all this because you’ve really crossed the line this time." As the words of his friends echoed in his mind, Jake couldn't help but long for a chance to turn back time and undo everything.
3 days ago…
When Jake handed his unlocked phone to Eric and Jeongin so they could add their orders to the team's food delivery, he hadn't considered that they would have full access to his phone. He should have sensed trouble when he noticed them laughing loudly in the corner of the locker room. But it wasn't until he heard the sound of text notifications coming from nearby phones that he frowned, realizing the messages were from their group chat.
Reactions varied among the team. Some huddled together, laughing, while others stared at him with varying degrees of confusion, disgust, and amusement. It wasn't until Jisung approached him, asking if he had intended to send the video, that Jake's confusion deepened. Then he heard a familiar sound emanating from a nearby phone, and it dawned on him what had happened. Jake immediately stormed toward them, ready to unleash his anger for invading his privacy and sharing his private videos. But before he could even open his mouth, Jeongin beat him to the punch.
"Jesus, Jake. She doesn't even look like she's enjoying it. I mean look at you. Like this is kind of embarrassing. Clearly having a high body count means nothing by the way you’re fucking."
Jeongin and Jake had never had a good relationship, stemming from an incident during Jake's freshman year when he unknowingly slept with Jeongin's (now ex) girlfriend. Since then, Jeongin had harbored animosity toward Jake, and Jake wasn't about to let him win this time. Without thinking, he did the only thing he believed could counter Jeongin's words.
In an escalating frenzy, Jake's teammates gathered around him as he sat on one of the benches, pulling up a more recent video of the two of you having sex. The explicit video played, filling the locker room with the sound of your loud moans as you sported a fucked out expression while Jake wrapped his free hand tightly around your neck. It became evident, through the videos Jake displayed, that Jeongin had been mistaken. However, Jake hadn't considered the consequences of defending his ego. In his attempt to assert himself, he inadvertently exposed you to a vulnerable position. The initial high he experienced over the following days gradually faded as he came to terms with the gravity of his actions. Furthermore, he had forgotten about the widespread distribution of the videos. Before he could even begin to address his mistakes, it seemed that everything had already spiraled out of control.
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While Jungwon had been the first to intervene between Jake and Wonyoung, it wasn't out of concern for Jake's well-being. He was actually holding Wonyoung back to prevent her from getting into trouble. He couldn't care less about Jake right now after all that had happened tonight, and he was relieved that Jake wasn't his big as this situation could have been even more devastating. Instead, he was stuck with the fool on the other side of the room, pathetically nursing his head (Jungwon was sure Sunghoon was actually crying), while Jay inspected it to ensure that Wonyoung hadn't actually scalped him. Still, he would prefer Sunghoon any day over Jake—poor Niki.
However, Jungwon had to admit that his girlfriend was quite terrifying when she was angry. His gaze drifted over to the head-shaped hole in the living room wall, a result of Sunghoon's head being smashed into it by Wonyoung. She had also kicked poor innocent Huening Kai in the stomach during her attempts to break free, and Sunoo appeared disheveled and exhausted from his own encounter with her that he narrowly escaped unscathed. Since then, Wonyoung had calmed down significantly, but everyone remained on guard as if she were a rabid dog that could unpredictably go wild again.
When Heeseung finally entered the living room after informing Yeji of the incident at the house, he took in the scene before him. It almost resembled a battlefield, with everyone tending to their wounds. In any other situation, he might have found it somewhat amusing, but right now, he had too much on his plate to find humor in it.
"Hey Wonyoung, Jungwon, and Niki, can we talk? The rest of you can go back to sleep. I'll speak with you guys in the morning," he addressed the three individuals who were present at the bar. Each of them displayed a range of emotions, with Wonyoung's anger being the most apparent on her face.
Jungwon and Niki nodded in agreement, while Wonyoung seemed unwilling to move from her spot on the couch. With some coaxing from her boyfriend, however, she reluctantly got up and followed them.
The four of them entered the kitchen for more privacy, and Heeseung let out a sigh before delivering the news. "I just spoke with Yeji, and unfortunately, due to the violence you showed towards multiple brothers tonight, AES will be banned from the house until the end of the semester. I’m sorry and I want to let you know that this isn’t at all what I wanted cause I know the reasons behind your actions, but I can’t go against the rules. We'll have time to discuss what will happen next during the break."
Wonyoung couldn't care less about the news. In fact, she was relieved that none of her sisters would have to come into contact with Jake.
"I need to talk to you three about what happened at the bar. I'll be having a more detailed conversation with Jake, but I want to know the full extent of what occurred," Heeseung's voice was stern, and it was perhaps the most serious Jungwon and Niki had ever seen their president.
"It was just three assholes who approached us while we were out and started harassing Y/N. She had no idea what they were talking about, and they assumed Jake had already shown us videos. He obviously hadn’t though so we were confused, but they were so fucking disrespectful towards her," Niki recounted, his brows furrowed and a look of disgust on his face as he recalled the degrading treatment his friend had endured.
This was exactly what Heeseung had feared, as he didn't know if any of the Epsilon Nu boys were involved in the incident. "I'll have to conduct a thorough investigation with Taehyun and Yeonjun over the next week to ensure that no one else was involved. Niki, I know you're Jake's little, and he may not have mentioned this to you, but it doesn't mean he hasn't discussed it with Jay, Sunghoon, or any of the other guys."
Wonyoung's face twisted in anger at Heeseung's words. The mere possibility that some of the EpNu boys could have been involved only fueled her diminishing fury. "Heeseung, I swear, if you find out that Jake had been showing those videos to the boys, I won't give a shit about your stupid fucking ban. I will kill them," she declared, her threat laced with genuine conviction. Wonyoung meant every word. Too many of her loved ones were connected to the boys of EpNu, and if she discovered any of them had prior knowledge of Jake's actions, she would unleash her wrath upon them without hesitation.
Heeseung understood the gravity of Wonyoung's words, knowing full well what she was capable of especially after tonight. He simply nodded silently. "It's getting late, Wonyoung. You should go back to your dorm," he sighed, rubbing his head in exasperation before he addressed her once again, this time expressing his remorse. "And I'm sorry about what Jake did to Y/N. I can't even begin to imagine what she's going through. I understand why you did what you did tonight. I'm not supposed to praise you for punching Jake, and I truly am not, but I want you to know that he will face the consequences he deserves."
His words hung heavily in the air as the three of them absorbed their weight, comprehending its significance and the gravity of Jake's actions. Wonyoung locked eyes with Heeseung, scrutinizing them to ensure he wasn't lying. Satisfied with what she saw, she gave him a firm nod and finally made her way out of the house, with Jungwon following closely behind.
By the following morning, before the sun had even risen, news of the incident had spread among your sorority sisters like wildfire. Their anger surpassed any imaginable limit, prompting many of them to march down to the EpNu house, demanding to confront Jake. Unfortunately, their attempts were in vain, leaving them to seek alternative means of seeking justice for their sister.
Winter, true to her earlier threat, didn't back down. Unable to physically harm Jake, she devised a different plan to inflict pain. With the assistance of Giselle, the sorority's Vice President of Public Relations, they composed an exposé letter, which was then published on AES' public Instagram account, boasting a substantial following of 10k. The letter called out Jake by his full name and provided enough details, carefully avoiding disclosing your identity as the victim, to shed light on his actions. Its publication sparked a significant reaction within the HybeU community, with all the sisters reposting the letter. This, in turn, flooded Jake's and EpNu's social media accounts with a deluge of hate comments, reaching such an overwhelming level that they had to disable their comments section a letter of their own in response. 
Monday arrived, and it came as no surprise that both you and Jake were absent from campus. Your friends managed to coax you out of bed for some breakfast, but the weight of the situation hit you hard as you tearfully picked at your pancakes. Despite the comforting hugs from your friends, the overwhelming sense of shame and regret still consumed you.
Lying on Winter's bed at the AES house, with Wonyoung across from you on her own big's bed, you felt a sense of solace in their presence. It was a natural occurrence for the four of you to hang out like this, given that your bigs were also best friends.
Winter broke the silence with a question, "Have you considered actually taking legal action?"
Honestly, amidst the chaos of dealing with the invasion of your privacy and its fallout, the idea of seeking retribution against Jake hadn't crossed your mind. While you were aware of the intense public scrutiny and the ostracization Jake was facing due to the public outing by your sorority and friends, you had barely had a moment to think about anything beyond handling the aftermath.
"No, not really," you replied, your brows furrowing in thought. "I mean, is there even anything I could report him to the police for?"
"You should, there's bound to be something they could charge him with. Like, at the very least for invasion of privacy, right?" Wonyoung's eyes widened with seriousness as she sat up from her bed, interjecting into the conversation.
Wonyoung’s big nodded in agreement with her little, "Yeah, there's definitely legal grounds for action. This whole situation is fucked up, and there's no way he should get off this easily."
You let out a sigh, feeling a headache starting to form at the mere thought of the complex legalities involved. "It's just so complicated. Plus, haven't we heard enough stories of things like this happening to girls, and even when they speak up, the police don't do anything? It's like I'd have to go through all this with no guarantee of justice at the end."
"There's no fucking way Jake's getting away with this. I mean, sure, everyone's hating on him right now, but give it time. After the break, they'll move on, and he'll be back to his normal life like he didn't just violate you. Meanwhile, you're gonna be forever stuck knowing those assholes have videos of you in your most vulnerable state. It's just not right," Winter vented, frustration evident in her tone. The idea of Jake seemingly escaping consequences fueled an indescribable anger within everyone present.
“Does the school know?” Winter’s roommate asked.
You shrugged in response, "I'm not sure, maybe? AES' post blew up, so it might've caught the attention of the administrators. But if they know anything, they haven't said anything about it."
"Okay, well then let's make sure they know. They'll be obligated to take action if you file an official complaint. We have proof and everything, so if they don't do something, the backlash will be insane," Wonyoung declared, already in action as she reached for her computer to draft the email.
"Wait, wait, wait. I'm not so sure about this," you interjected, your mind suddenly conflicted.
"What do you mean?" Winter chimed in, puzzled by your hesitation.
"I..." You hesitated, struggling to articulate the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "What if he gets like expelled?"
Wonyoung's big wore a baffled expression. "What do you mean 'if he gets expelled'? That's what he deserves! He probably deserves that and more."
The girls nodded in agreement, but your emotions were in turmoil, and you couldn't pinpoint why you weren't fully on board with delivering the harshest punishment to Jake. It felt utterly stupid; you knew you deserved justice for everythin he put you through, yet you couldn't shake the discomfort of potentially derailing his entire future.
"I don't know, I need time to think about this. I appreciate it, but give me some time," you said, offering them a tight smile that betrayed your inner turmoil. With that, you gathered your things and headed for the door. "I'll catch up with you guys later."
The rest of the day unfolded in the library, where you desperately tried to catch up on missed classes and prepare for looming finals. Yet, your grades felt like the least of your worries as your mind continuously circled back to the revenge plan your friends had suggested. The desire for retribution burned within you, but something held you back. 
Frustrated and overwhelmed, you sighed heavily and rested your head on the table, closing your eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache. However, as you lay there, you couldn't ignore the faint whispering emanating from behind the bookshelves nearby.
"That's her, right?" The hushed voices reached your ears, stirring a sense of unease within you.
"Yeah, it's definitely her. I've seen her at one of those EpNu parties, always with her little clique. That sorority thinks they're hot shit, but turns out they're just dirty sluts. I mean apparently she’s been run through by most of that frat," one voice remarked, failing miserably at keeping their tone down.
Your heart sank as you realized they were talking about you, and the other voice chimed in just as indiscreetly, "I'm not surprised. I heard even before her sex tape got leaked that she had a foursome with Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay. So, it’s probably true."
A heavy lump formed in your throat as you struggled to contain the surge of emotions welling up inside you. Clenching your jaw to stifle the rising anger, you continued to lie there, desperate to hear more of their conversation. It fucking hurt, but you wanted to know what people were saying about you.
"What a fucking whore. Isn't she embarrassed? I remember crying when I didn't get asked back to AES during rush, but now I'm so glad, 'cause they're probably all like her. So much for being a ‘top house’," the voices continued, each word feeling like a dagger to your heart. 
"Yeah, I’m gonna take not getting into AES as a blessing in disguise. It seems like they only go after sluts, super fucking classy. I'd be mortified if I were her parents. Did you see her trying to play the victim card? Apparently Jake's getting all the blame, but that's bullshit because she clearly played a part in making those videos," the girl's disdain dripped from her words.
"Ugh, yeah, I kind of feel sorry for him. Everyone's been treating him like shit and icing him out, but what about her? That video was disgusting; the stuff they were doing were insane, and she looked so proud of it. It's gross," the other girl chimed in, their voices laced with mockery as they burst into giggles.
Unable to bear another moment of their cruel gossip, you abruptly gathered your belongings, stuffing them into your bag, and stormed out of the library, your emotions raw and turmoil consuming your thoughts.
Was this how people saw you now? You didn't even know them, yet they felt entitled to make all sorts of assumptions about you. The weight of their cruel assumptions pressed down on you, leaving you reeling with a mix of anger and hurt. As you waited for the bus, you clenched your fists, willing yourself to hold back the tears threatening to spill. You were beyond pissed off, and any lingering hesitation about going after Jake's academic career evaporated in an instant.
The moment you stepped into your dorm, you wasted no time in grabbing your laptop, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you poured your emotions into a lengthy email to the administration.
Jake was going to fucking pay—no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
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Jake emerged from a private meeting with Heeseung and Yeonjun, feeling a profound sense of dissapointment and carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. The repercussions of his actions had cast Epsilon Nu under intense scrutiny for the past few days, particularly due to the widespread awareness created by your sorority's Instagram post. The executive members of Epsilon Nu were in a frenzy, working tirelessly to address and rectify the fallout caused by Jake's behavior. It was abundantly clear to everyone involved that distancing the fraternity from Jake, at least for the time being, was not only necessary but also non-negotiable.
Fortunately for Jake, his membership as an Epsilon Nu brother hadn't been terminated, although he knew that many of the boys would probably have preferred that outcome. Heeseung explained that since the incident wasn't directly linked to the fraternity, they didn't have grounds to kick him out, but he had been placed on probation instead.
Despite the leniency shown, being an Epsilon Nu had been a source of pride for Jake so with the official announcement of his probation until the end of the school year, he felt a profound sense of loss and disorientation. The consequences he faced were still significant, as he was stripped of his participation in any EpNu coordinated events and denied the opportunity to reside at the house for the remainder of the year. Additionally, he was prohibited from wearing or engaging in anything that associated him with the fraternity during his probationary period. Still Yeonjun made sure to emphasize how lucky he was to not be kicked out and how they would allow him to live in the house until the semester ended due to it only being a couple weeks away.
He had of course anticipated some form of punishment from his fraternity, but what he hadn't expected was an email from the Dean’s Office sitting in his inbox. As he opened it and read its contents, his heart sank and what felt like panic started to creep up. He was summoned to meet with the Dean the following day to discuss his actions and the disciplinary measures the school intended to take. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he contemplated the impending consequences of his actions. 
While he wasn’t the exact person who had sent out the videos, there still was proof that it came from his phone. Plus, he was a willing participant in showing more content to his teammates and overall did nothing to shut any of it down. So of course, the next morning as he was sat in front of the Dean, he was sweating nervously with anxiety coursing through him at a rapid pace. 
The Dean wore a stern expression and barely acknowledged Jake's entrance, engrossed in the paperwork before him. A heavy silence hung in the room until the Dean let out a loud sigh, removed his glasses, and finally locked eyes with Jake.
"Mr. Sim, we are here today due to a troubling letter I received from one of your classmates, containing serious accusations against you. Upon an investigation by the university, it has come to light that you not only played a significant role in this incident but that it has gained significant public attention. In fact, even President Bang is now aware of the situation," the Dean stated, causing Jake's anxiety to intensify. The thought of the President knowing about his actions made him feel sick.
Without offering respite, the Dean continued, "This puts the university in an extremely difficult position, as it highlights our failure to protect our students. Consequently, certain actions need to be taken regarding your standing here. After thorough deliberation, the council and I have decided to place you on probation. This means you can continue attending classes but will be suspended from all other activities. I have already been made aware of your current status from your fraternity and must inform you that you will also be suspended from the soccer team until the next season. Your probation period will extend until the next academic year. Any further policy violations may result in suspension or even expulsion. Additionally, this disciplinary action will be recorded on your academic record, which may impact your future pursuits. While you have the right to appeal this decision, Mr. Sim, I must emphasize that the evidence against you is substantial, casting doubt on the success of your appeal."
Being a student at Hybe University had been Jake's lifelong dream, and now he found himself in a position that he never could have imagined himself in. The consequences he faced far exceeded anything he had ever imagined. He had risked everything for the mere approval of his teammates (ones that he honestly didn’t even care that much about), and the realization left him feeling utterly devastated.
"I should also mention that we have received additional information from one of your teammates who was present at the incident, providing details about other individuals involved. They too will face consequences for their actions. Know that we are taking this matter extremely seriously. By winter break, your parents alongside Y/N’s will be sent a letter fully disclosing everything that I discussed with you today to ensure that they are made aware of your status along with everything else. That will be all, and I expect to see you again at the end of your probation period." The Dean seemed unwilling to entertain any further discussion, promptly escorting Jake out after delivering the news.
Feeling numb and overwhelmed, Jake struggled to comprehend the gravity of his situation as he made his way back to the house. It was a profound realization that not only was he in disfavor with the school, but he had also lost his position as a soccer player. A series of poor choices had completely upended his life. While he understood that he would still be able to attend classes and, once his probation period ended, could potentially return to his fraternity and the soccer team, he couldn't shake the feeling that things would never be the same. The possibility of holding a leadership position within Epsilon Nu now seemed out of reach, and the dream of becoming team captain had evaporated. 
Amidst all the turmoil, Jake was also dealing with the dread of having to return back to the EpNu house. However, he had no other options; it was the only place he could go. What was once a sanctuary now felt like a confining prison he was compelled to enter.
Since Friday night, Jake had been met with glares and stony silence. He was only spoken to when necessary, and his presence seemed an unwelcomed one. Some of the guys didn't hesitate to voice their opinions and disgust towards him, while others acted as if he didn't exist at all. He wasn't sure which was worse. It hurt, but he knew he had brought it upon himself. He had no right to expect sympathy from his brothers after what he had done.
Jay had resorted to crashing in different rooms, avoiding any proximity with Jake while Sunghoon (who had been concussed during Wonyoung's attack) was outright ignoring him. Even Niki, who used to stick by his side everywhere, was distancing himself and seeking solace in the company of other fraternity members. Jake couldn't blame them; he knew a simple apology wouldn't solve anything this time. The Epsilon Nu boys were rightfully bitter and upset. They now had to face the wrath of the rest of the student body for their association with Jake, and they knew rebuilding their reputation would be an uphill battle.
Despite the circumstances, the EpNu boys stood by your side. While they knew Jake's actions weren't their responsibility, they continued to show their remorse through various gestures. When you returned back to your dorm, you were greeted with an abundance of flowers and baskets filled with your favorite treats, all signed by Epsilon Nu. Yeji had mentioned that the flowers had also been sent to the house as well. Some of Jake's closest friends, such as Niki, Sunghoon, Jay, and even Heeseung, even personally approached you to express their apologies and accompanied you to your classes to make sure you weren’t being harassed by anyone. However, while you appreciated their efforts, you knew that nothing could erase the pain you still felt.
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"Jesus, this morning I even woke up to Jay screaming because Taehyun apparently stepped on him while trying to go to the bathroom! I mean, what did he expect from sleeping on the floor?" Beomgyu ranted about the changed dynamics within the EpNu house since Jake's probation was revealed. Jay had been avoiding Jake by crashing in either Beomgyu and Taehyun's room or Sunghoon's every night.
With finals week approaching, you finally decided to take up Beomgyu's offer to study together. It was quite different from your study sessions with Jake, where you would mostly study in silence and occasionally seek help from each other. Instead, you and Beomgyu seemed to prioritize chatting with your textbooks mostly on the back burner. Since the whole STD incident, you had actually become quite good friends with Beomgyu. He was kind and funny not to mention quite easy on the eyes so his presence in your life was a welcomed change. He was also one of the first to reach out to you, expressing his disgust at what Jake had done and trying to cheer you up. 
"Poor Jay, at this point, wouldn't it be best to just kick Jake out of the house? I mean, he won't even be living there when January rolls around." You were fully aware of Jake's status with his fraternity and the school, and while you should technically be happy with his punishment, the anticipated joy never surfaced. Instead, you were still engulfed in feelings of betrayal and hurt.
"That's exactly what I'm saying! None of us want him around, and the whole vibe in the house is fucked up now. I mean he’s probably going to fail all his classes cause he doesn't even seem to be attending any so he might as well just move back home." Beomgyu's eyes sparked with frustration as he voiced his concerns. Although he had already been on shaky terms with Jake, even after his apology, Beomgyu now believed that their relationship had an extremely slim chance of returning to how it was at the beginning of the year.
"Ugh, I'm so sorry, Beomgyu. It's terrible that all of you guys have to deal with this." You genuinely empathized with the boys. While you had been the main victim in Jake's actions, there was no denying that everyone around him had also been affected.
As soon as Beomgyu heard your words, he quickly shook his head in disagreement. "Y/N, I told you it's not your fault! Seriously, stop blaming yourself for this." You knew he was right, but despite that, tears welled up in your eyes, and you realized that the guilt you felt wouldn't disappear anytime soon.
In the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you sniffled and looked down at your lap, hoping to stop the tears. However, Beomgyu reached out and gently took your hand in his, causing you to look back up at him. "I know you've been saying that you're doing a bit better now, but I can't imagine it being that easy. This isn't something you can just get over in an instant. You've known him your whole life, and I know your relationship was rough. But that doesn't mean the pain will be any less."
A tear escaped as it streamed down your face while you absorbed his words. He was right—things weren't okay, and the journey to healing would be long and challenging. But you had no choice but to move forward.
"I know you're closer to Wonyoung and Winter, and you have the support of your other sisters, but I genuinely mean it when I say that I'm here for you. Plus, it seems like your skills in physics are even worse than I thought, so I'm sure you'll need my help." True to Beomgyu's nature, he effortlessly made you burst into laughter amidst your tears. You knew this was his way of trying to cheer you up and it was working.
"Thank you, seriously." You expressed your gratitude sincerely, sharing a smile with him. His words, even if only a little, warmed your heart.
The rest of your study session went as before, with both of you laughing and attempting to get some work done. The joyful mood continued even as Beomgyu walked you back to your dorm after deciding to call it a day. However, the moment you reached the steps of your dorm, the atmosphere quickly changed.
From a distance, you could see a figure sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance. As you approached, your anxiety grew, and you realized who it was.
"Oh, fuck no." Beomgyu seemed equally unamused by the unexpected encounter. Jake looked up as he heard footsteps approaching.
Immediately, Beomgyu stepped in front of you, attempting to shield you from Jake. Though partially blocked, you caught a glimpse of him. While you couldn't recall exactly how he looked the last time you saw him, you knew for sure that he didn't look nearly as bad as he did now. You almost couldn’t recognize him as his usual smirk and playful glimmer in his eyes were now no longer able to be found and instead replaced with sunken features that made him look as if he hadn’t slept for days. 
"Hey, guys..." Jake didn't know what else to say. He hadn't expected to see Beomgyu with you, and he instantly knew that talking to you seemed even more impossible.
He took a step forward but was quickly stopped as Beomgyu pushed him back with his free hand while still holding you protectively behind him. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing here?"
Even from behind, you could sense Beomgyu's anger vibrating in his voice. You, too, felt shaken, but for different reasons. Panic was creeping in, now familiar friends of yours since you were sure they seemed to be visiting you more frequently since the discovery of the leaked videos.
"Y/N..." Jake's voice called out your name, and you felt nauseous.
"No, seriously, dude, what the fuck are you doing here? Are you that fucking stupid? Do you think it's okay to just show up here and what? Ambush her into talking to you? Haven't you already done enough?" Beomgyu yelled angrily at Jake. 
"Please, just let me talk to her." Jake's voice softened in contrast to Beomgyu's, and he sounded almost desperate. He knew coming here might not have been the wisest decision, but he didn't know what else to do.
By now, you were nearly dissociating from reality, trying to control your breathing, but it felt futile. You realized you would have to face him at some point, but you didn't expect it to be so soon. You felt blindsided and unprepared.
"Jesus Christ, Jake, leave her alone! She doesn't want to talk to you, and the least you can do is respect her wishes." Beomgyu felt on the brink of losing control, restraining himself from confronting Jake physically. Seeing him at the EpNu house was one thing but seeing him here seemed to have ignited something in Beomgyu. 
"Fuck, Y/N, please. I'm sorry, please." Jake was on the verge of tears, desperately trying to convey his words to you while Beomgyu continued to push him away. Couldn’t he understand? You couldn't bear it any longer.
"Go away, please." Your voice was soft and broken as tears streamed down your face. You just wished for anything to happen, anything to help you escape this nightmare of a reality you were experiencing.
Your voice sounded weak, almost shattered, as Jake heard you softly crying. It felt as though his heart was breaking under the weight of a thousand pounds, and he wished he could vanish. At that moment, Jake realized he had committed the most heinous act, not only against anyone but against the girl he loved.
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Fortunately, before the situation could escalate further, your RA, Renjun, intervened after hearing the commotion from inside the dorm lobby. Upon seeing Jake, he threatened to call campus security, prompting Jake to dejectedly retreat back to the house with one last glance in your direction.
In a state of panic, you were quickly ushered into your room, where Wonyoung sprang into action, doing her best to tend to you. Without the chance to bid Beomgyu goodbye or express gratitude to Renjun, who was currently contacting campus security to request increased dorm security, you collapsed onto your bed, completely drained from the overwhelming emotions coursing through your body.
Jake seemed to have complied with your wishes since that night, as you hadn't heard a single peep from him for the next couple of weeks until school ended. He even skipped the mandatory Relationship 101 class, but honestly, you couldn't care less about whether he passed or not. You were just relieved that your project was completed before everything unraveled. In truth, you were excited that the semester had finally ended and you could escape this toxic environment and go back home. It was disheartening to witness the campus you once adored being tarnished by Jake's actions, which had caused you immense anxiety. This break was much needed.
However, amidst the chaos of managing school, rebuilding your reputation, and working through the emotional aftermath of the incident, you had completely forgotten about how your parents would react when you returned home. It was naive of you to assume they wouldn't find out about what had happened given the scale of the situation. Now, here you were, confronted by your family's intense outrage, more specifically your father’s.
"To think that we raised our daughters alongside that bastard disgusts me! How many times have we welcomed the Sims into our home? I can't understand how you're staying so calm about this. He violated our baby! I can't handle this; I'm going over there right now to make sure he knows he will not get away with this and we will be pressing charges!" Currently, your entire family was trying to restrain your father from actually committing murder on an unsuspecting Jake, who lived just a few blocks away.
"Dad, no! Oh my god, stop!" You shouted at him, joining your sisters and mother in their desperate attempts to prevent him from leaving the house. This level of anger was uncharacteristic of your usually even-tempered father, but you understood why he was so furious. After all, Jake had harmed his precious daughter, not to mention the youngest.
"Dad, please, let's think this through first!" Your eldest sister, Jennie, usually level-headed, firmly pleaded. While everyone in your family had every right to be angry, resorting to violence wouldn't solve anything—it would only escalate the situation.
"Honey, listen to the girls, please. The school has already informed us about the actions they're taking against him. He won't get away with it. I'm furious too, I mean he’s the son of one of my best friends, but acting out won't help Y/N. Let's take a moment to calm down before we discuss this further," your mother, though seething with anger, managed to handle the situation better than your father.
"But that's not enough! I mean I can’t even imagine the extent of humiliation the boy put our daughter through!" Flames still flickered in your father's eyes as he yelled out, but his body came to a halt, no longer headed for the front door.
"Mom's right, Dad. Having your photo splashed all over the news because you ended up murdering Jake won't help Y/N at all," Rosé’s words seemed to finally resonate with your father, causing him to turn back towards the living room. He let out a deep sigh of frustration before taking a moment to collect himself. Clearly, he was still angry, but he knew that his rash actions would do nothing but more harm to your already delicate situation. 
You could see right through your father; it was evident how utterly heartbroken he was beneath all the rage. He couldn't help but direct some of his anger towards himself for not being able to protect his baby girl. With gentle steps, you approached your father, who was hunched over on the couch. You knew that no words could alleviate his suffering, so you simply embraced him in a tight hug, offering a silent gesture of comfort and support.
Thanks to Jake, it felt like he had even managed to rob you of your winter break, the one thing you had hoped would provide a sense of normalcy. Since the first day back, your family had been making an effort to avoid bringing up anything that would make you uncomfortable while still trying to maintain the holiday spirit you were all too familiar with, but something felt off. Despite your parents' repeated emphasis that none of this was your fault, you couldn't help but still feel an overwhelming sense of shame, especially now that they were aware of the relationship you had with Jake and the extent of what you had allowed him to do to you. It was already embarrassing enough that your parents knew about your sex life, but to have them informed by the school about the sex tapes you had made with their best friend's child added a whole new level of humiliation. 
As expected, the usual Christmas dinner between your family and Jake's family wasn't happening this year. It was clear that the incident had strained the relationship your mother had with his, causing a noticeable rift between them. While Jake's family had expressed sincere apologies for their son's actions, you knew that rebuilding the close bond they once had would be a difficult task for everyone involved. 
However, what truly caused you the most internal struggle was the conflicting feelings you seemed to have toward Jake. Yes, you were still undeniably angry and upset with him, but a small part of you kept nagging at the back of your mind, making you think about him. The image of his absolutely worn-down look during your last encounter haunted you. It was a side of Jake you had never seen before – so broken and vulnerable, and it bothered you. Was he genuinely feeling guilt for everything he caused you to go through, or was it just a facade to deal with the consequences of his actions? You berated yourself for even having these thoughts, but they were hard to ignore. 
Despite not considering each other friends, the progress made in your relationship during the semester had surprised you. The glimpses of a different side to Jake had almost made you proud of the changes the two of you were seemingly making. So, to witness everything crumble away was painful. It seemed as though, against your better judgment, you had developed some level of care for Jake, and amid all the pain you were going through, you couldn't help but wonder about him. 
The internal turmoil left you questioning your own sanity. How could you find any compassion for someone who had caused you so much harm? It was a maddening contradiction that seemed to defy all logic.
The only time you felt fully comfortable confronting these thoughts was during your daily walks with your dog to the park near your house. Unlike everyone else in your life, Lady (your absolute sweetie pie 5-year-old cocker spaniel) not only held no judgment in her eyes and was the best listener, but she also knew the best way to comfort your conflicted heart: cuddles.
"I know you're probably sick of hearing me saying this, but it's just so hard for me to really understand what's going on." You let out a huge sigh that caused Lady to look back at you with eyes that conveyed concern. But before you could continue your rant, Lady seemed to be taken by something as her head whipped around, and she barked loudly.
A fluffy ball of fur could be seen barreling through the playground, and you started to recognize what was heading your way. It seemed as though Lady was quite aware too, as before you could even register what was happening, you found yourself being dragged across the playground where you were currently swinging, all thanks to your dog. You were all too familiar with the Sim's family dog, Layla, who seemed to have spotted you earlier and escaped from her owner. You hadn't seen her in a while, but she seemed extremely elated to be in your presence, immediately rolling on her back, hinting at you to rub her belly. Lady, too, was overjoyed to see her friend, barking and jumping around in excitement.
"Fuck, Layla, come back! Jesus, you can't just—" You heard his voice before you saw him, and Jake seemed much too preoccupied with getting his dog back to realize who Layla was running towards. His wide eyes and frozen state at your presence were a huge contrast to how he was back at your dorm when you last saw him.
"Shit, Y/N…" He muttered out before failing to find the rest of his words. His face flushed red, seemingly utterly confused about how to approach the situation. Clearly, neither of your dogs seemed to sense the distress coming off from their owners as they happily played with each other.
Unlike before, the feeling of panic and overwhelming anxiety seemed to be less present, replaced by a profound sense of confusion. Yes, initial anger surged within you upon seeing him, but there was also a part of you that wanted to take him in, to understand him. Dressed in a dark hoodie and sweatpants, he appeared disheveled, as if he had just rolled out of bed. The darkness that clouded his face persisted despite the sunny weather, and it was evident that he hadn't made much progress since before.
"I'm so sorry about Layla. She just darted out of nowhere. I guess she spotted you with Lady and got excited." As he mentioned her name, Lady finally seemed to recognize his presence,  instantly wagging her tail and nudging his leg, seeking affection. "Um, seriously, I'm so sorry about her. I-I'll just go."
However, before you could fully comprehend your own actions, you found yourself shaking your head. "Wait!" His eyes widened in surprise.
"Jake, hold on. Can we talk?" You weren't sure where this sudden urge came from, but you knew that earlier you weren't ready to face Jake. Now, however, you felt more prepared. You needed this. It was the least he owed you.
He appeared taken aback by your request, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah, of course."
Your assumptions about his situation seemed to be accurate, as he was clearly not doing well. His parents were on the verge of kicking him out, unable to comprehend that their son was behind all of this, and his relationship with his brother was strained, with minimal communication between them. Moreover, he had failed almost all of his classes, save for one, and it appeared that his former friends had distanced themselves from him, not wanting to be associated with him. While a few of his teammates were still willing to hang out with him, he personally didn't want to be involved with them, knowing they were also complicit in what had happened. It was evident that his once highly regarded status and reputation were now completely shattered. 
His depression had reached an all-time low, and the idea of taking a break from school and not having to return back in a couple of weeks was incredibly tempting. After all, what was the point of resuming when he already had to take extra time to graduate due to his failing grades? However, he knew deep down that this decision wouldn't help repair his already strained relationship with his parents. Despite all this, as he spent his days moping around in bed, only one thing consumed his thoughts—you.
It was ironic how the person he had always seemed to despise was now dominating his mind but for entirely different reasons. Although it might be difficult to believe this sudden shift in his feelings towards you, Jake had come to a profound realization that his previous hatred had merely served as a facade for his true emotions. It had taken a long time for him to become aware of them, but now he was somehow enlightened. Jake wasn't entirely certain if what he felt could be called love or if it was perhaps a form of obsession, but one thing he was certain of was that the feelings he harbored for you were genuine. He found himself missing your smile, the scent of your perfume, and even the snarky quips you directed his way. 
Now, he understood why the saying "you never know what you have until it's gone" was so widely accepted, especially as he sat next to you on the swings. Every aspect of you captivated him, and he made a conscious effort to absorb every bit of you, unsure if this might be the last time he would have the opportunity to see you. You were utterly beautiful, and the mere thought of not being able to call you his brought tears to his eyes.
"I know my apology means very little to you, and it won't undo any of the damage I've caused, but I need to say it—I'm sorry." His words were sincere, and while he had been right that they wouldn’t erase the pain or fix anything, you had still been yearning to hear them directly from him.
You let out a sigh. "I just need to understand why. It’s no secret that we’ve never really been fond of each other, but I thought we were making progress. Have you really been hating me that much all this time?" Despite the joyful sounds of your dogs playing happily nearby, the atmosphere between you and Jake couldn't have been more different.
This question about his true feelings towards you had been haunting you at the core. If someone else had been responsible for the hurt you experienced, it would still be painful, but it somehow hurt more deeply when you realized it was Jake behind it all. You had known him your entire life, grown up together, and despite the ups and downs of your relationship, you took a chance trusting him with your most vulnerable self. For him to exploit that trust in such a cruel way felt like an unbearable betrayal.
"To be honest, I'm still grappling with that myself. As much as I want to deny it, the truth is that my stupid pride was at play when Jeongin was egging me on. At that moment, I prioritized my own ego and how I would appear in front of a group of guys I couldn't care less about. Y/N, I don't hate you. I don't think I ever truly did and in fact, I think it’s actually always been the opposite. I'm sorry." His confession made you frown, unable to immediately process what he was saying.
"Wait, what? Jake, you've spent most of our lives convincing me that you hated me. You can't just tell me now that you never actually hated me. I reciprocated those feelings because I believed it was mutual. If that wasn't the truth, then why did you torment me all this time?" The idea that Jake had never truly hated you should have brought some relief, but instead, it only added to your frustration.
"Damn it, I don't know. Deep down, I always knew I was in the wrong when we were kids and I cheated on you. I deserved that push off the monkey bars. But my pride got in the way, and it was easier for me to blame you than to admit my own faults. So, I continued messing with you, making you believe I hated you, rather than facing the truth. And now I realize how much I've lost. You were my best friend until that point, and I loved you. Losing you because of my foolish mistake was difficult to accept. And now, it seems we're in a similar situation. We were doing so well and I was starting to really fucking like you until I went and fucked it up again." Tears welled up in his eyes as he finally revealed the underlying reasons behind his actions.
He was sincere, and his guilt was evident, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being upset. Growing up, girls were often told that if a boy picked on them, it was because they liked them, but that notion never sat well with you. Harassing someone you liked wasn't a display of love, and Jake's admission that he had perpetuated such a toxic stereotype only added to your disappointment. He could have chosen a different approach to express his true feelings, but instead, he resorted to hate, making you feel sorry for your younger self. While you were willing to participate in getting back at him, it was a result of your genuine upset and negative emotions towards his actions. If he had simply revealed that he was sorry and missed being friends with you, you would have readily welcomed him back into your life.
"Jake..." Your voice trailed off, struggling to find the right words as a surge of emotions overwhelmed you. "I don't think I can talk to you right now. I just need some time." Swiftly, you turned away from him and headed towards where Lady and Layla were joyfully playing. However, before you could get far, you heard his pleas and felt his hands grasp your wrist.
Jake desperately clutched on to your wrist, abandoning any pretense of holding back his tears as he begged. "Please, Y/N. I don't expect you to forgive me, because you don't owe me anything, especially cause of everything I’ve done to you but..."
You waited for him to finish his sentence, but his thoughts seemed jumbled and incomplete, prompting a sigh from you. "But what, Jake? I need time to process all of this. You've dropped a bombshell on me on top of everything you already put me through, and I can't easily understand or accept everything."
"You can take all the time you need, I beg you," he pleaded, cradling your hand and looking at you with desperation in his eyes. "I’ll do anything. I just can't bear to lose you again."
"Well, maybe you should have considered that before then."
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The winter break inched by painfully slow, leaving nothing memorable in its wake since your unexpected encounter with Jake at the park. Days melded into each other until school sneaked back into session, disrupting the monotony.
Jake continued spending the rest of his break under his covers, in a depressive state. While he honestly should be more worried about his future at HybeU as his GPA had plummeted and he was looking to take an extra year to graduate, but the only thing he could think about was you. Every waking moment he spent mulling over you and your tears and the way your eyes gazed at him in betrayal. You, who he’d spent most of his life convincing himself that he hated when he knew that wasn’t true. It was his fault that he lost you when you were younger and now again when given the golden opportunity to win you back, he fucked it up again. 
The decision of whether to return for the second semester hung over Jake until the day before school started when he reluctantly opted to go back in hopes of avoiding driving a further wedge between him and his parents. But now, regret gnawed at him for not taking time off, leaving him wallowing in a sea of misery.
The first week of classes turned out to be far worse than he had anticipated. His motivation dwindled, and the simple act of attending felt like a burdensome chore. No one acknowledged him, a stark contrast to the earlier days of the school year when greetings were abundant from those he passed. Even the professors seemed to have caught wind of it, their expressions carrying a tinge of disappointment. The constant scrutiny and sudden isolation became overwhelming, especially now that he resided alone, separated from the familiarity of the EpNu house he had grown accustomed to.
He caught sight of Sunghoon and Jay at the library the other day, messing around just like they always used to, making the librarian frown with their loud banter and laughter. Instantly, a wave of overwhelming upset crashed over him, compelling him to turn around and head straight back home. It felt like everyone else had moved on, leaving him adrift.
The only ones who seemed to make an effort were a few guys from the soccer team facing similar consequences. But he found himself pushing away their attempts to connect, stewing in a mix of anger and resentment. While he knew his actions were at fault, part of him blamed them for provoking him into hurting you. 
Meanwhile, your night on the other hand was taking a completely different turn from Jake's scene, with you slamming down your sixth shot and pulling a face at the vodka's harshness, quickly chasing it with cranberry juice.
“Shit! That’s so gross ugh,” you grimaced as you chased the vodka with the cranberry juice you held in your other hand. 
"Ugh, vodka’s always the worst," Ningning grimaced, grabbing your drink and downing it herself to mask the taste.
It was formal season, and this year, Epsilon Nu had gone all out, choosing New Orleans for the grand celebration. You were surrounded by many of your sisters (EpNu had patched things up with AES to a certain extent, especially after Jake’s suspension and once it became clear that none of the boys were involved in anything), all glammed up to the max. The city was alive, music blasting from the bar, adding to the thrilling chaos of the night—an ideal distraction.
"Fuck, Ningning, seriously, that dress was made for you! Jay better be all over you later at the hotel," you slurred, planting a tipsy kiss on her cheek.
She blushed, about to reply when someone crashed into you, their perfume giving away their identity.
"Wonyoung, seriously, stop it!" Jungwon's voice frantically followed, trying to separate her from you.
Well past midnight, it was evident that everyone was thoroughly intoxicated. But honestly, who could blame you? You were surrounded by some of your closest friends in a city known for its entertainment, far removed from Jake's world on campus. It felt like the first time in forever that genuine laughter filled the air, finally allowing you to escape thoughts of him.
"Been searching all over for you! Ugh Y/N, you can’t just leave me like that!" Jungwon struggled to peel his girlfriend away from you, but you didn’t mind her clinging.
"Ningning and I have been right here the whole time! You clearly didn't look hard enough," you giggled, feeling the warmth from one too many drinks.
Your feet were throbbing in the stilettos you had on, and your body felt damp from the sweat of dancing and the drink you accidentally spilled earlier (thank goodness for the black dress). You knew your makeup was probably smudged, no longer as flawless as it had been for those pre-party photos. Your ears were practically ringing from the deafening noise of the bar and you were already dreading the miserable bus ride back home tomorrow, but honestly, in this high you were feeling right now, you couldn't care less.
“Where’s Beomgyu hyung?” Jungwon asked which made you realize that you’d lost your date. 
The party beads around your neck jingled softly as you whipped your head around, scanning the crowded space. Failing to spot him, a slight pout formed on your lips. "I don't know, I think I lost him. I'm gonna go find him," you declared, pushing yourself away from Wonyoung and heading away from the bar before protests from your friends could be heard.
Finding him in this crowd, especially in your tipsy state amid similarly dressed people, turned out to be quite the challenge. But then, as you glanced towards a dimly lit corner off to the side, your eyes widened in realization. There he was—Beomgyu, engaged in conversation with Sunghoon, Jay, and Yeonjun, oblivious to your presence. As you approached them, amid the bar's clamor, you could pick up on snippets of their conversation.
"He looked absolutely miserable, like I almost didn't recognize him," Sunghoon's voice pierced through the noise.
You frowned as you inched closer to them, careful not to reveal yourself yet eager to hear more of their conversation.
"Yeah, I've heard a few people mentioning how he hardly shows up to class anymore, and I don't even know if he has any friends left. Wouldn't surprise me if he didn't," Yeonjun remarked nonchalantly, taking a sip from his cup which you were sure was filled with some kind of alcohol.
"Well fuck him. He brought this all on himself and deserves it, and now he's probably just wallowing in self-pity," Beomgyu's disdain dripped from his words as he rolled his eyes. To him, Jake was nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being, and he couldn't help but feel angry that he had once considered him a brother.
"Yeah, he deserves everything he's getting, but you guys don't get it. He looked awful," Jay interjected, acknowledging Beomgyu's sentiments while also sharing his own observations from his and Sunghoon’s encounter with Jake at the library.
Sunghoon nodded in agreement, his expression troubled. "We're not trying to excuse his actions, but you should've seen him. It was beyond concerning, like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. He used to be our best friend, so yeah, we're fucking furious with him, but we can't help but feel a little worried."
"No, I can't believe this," Beomgyu shook his head in disbelief at Jay and Sunghoon's concern for Jake. "I don't know if you guys realize, but he ruined Y/N. She went through hell, and even though she might seem okay now, it's all an act. The things people are still saying about her are fucking insane. Winter and I practically had to drag her onto the bus to get here because we felt like we needed to do something to lift her spirits."
Yeonjun scoffed in annoyance, joining the conversation. "Yeah, you guys need to realize that while Jake may be struggling, it's nothing compared to what Y/N went through. Don't fucking bring this up again, at least not until we're back on campus."
And with that, Beomgyu stormed off, followed by Yeonjun while Sunghoon and Jay exchanged weary sighs, shaking their heads in resignation. The effects of alcohol seemed to evaporate from your system as their conversation sank in, leaving you painfully sober.
You should have been rejoicing in Jake's suffering, but instead, a sickening taste lingered in your mouth, refusing to dissipate throughout the rest of the night. Even as you returned to your hotel room, the intensity of your thoughts about Jake seemed to amplify. While Beomgyu softly snored beside you, you laid still on the bed, unable to escape the swirling whirlwind of emotions the thought of him had stirred within you.
This feeling didn’t seem to leave you as the bus ride back to school was filled with laughter and chatter, but even then, Jake continued to haunt the recesses of your mind. You felt guilty for allowing yourself to harbor such conflicted thoughts about him. How could you feel sympathy for the man who had shattered you in the worst possible way? Yet, shamefully, his presence persisted in your thoughts, a constant reminder of the turmoil he had inflicted upon you. 
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"What's up with you?" Wonyoung's voice pierced through your thoughts, jolting you back to reality.
You quickly shook your head, trying to brush off her concern. "Nothing, what do you mean?"
But Wonyoung wasn't buying it. "Stop lying. I know you better than anyone, and I can tell something's been bothering you ever since formal. So, what's going on?"
You hesitated, debating whether to confide in her. Wonyoung was your best friend, but you feared her reaction to your shameful empathy towards Jake. She wouldn't understand. "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," you insisted, hoping to brush off the conversation.
Her frown deepened, and you knew she wouldn't let it go. "Y/N, I'm serious. What's going on? I promise I won't judge; just talk to me."
With a heavy sigh, you relented, knowing her stubborn nature wouldn’t leave you alone till you told her. "Okay, fine. But you have to swear not to get mad or make me feel worse about it, because I already feel terrible," you requested, seeking her assurance. She nodded, prompting you to continue.
"During formal, I overheard a couple of the EpNu boys talking about Jake. They saw him at the library, and apparently, he looked really rough," you began, sensing Wonyoung's urge to interject but you gave her a warning look to let you finish. "Like, he apparently looked so bad that they barely recognized him, and he seemed like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. He already looked bad enough the last time I saw him, so I can’t even imagine what he probably looks like right now. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I'm worried, and I can't stop thinking about it, especially considering all the stuff he said when we ran into each other at the playground. I really-"
Wonyoung's reaction cut you off abruptly. "Wait, what do you mean you saw him at the playground? You didn't mention this! When was this? Are you okay?"
You cursed inwardly, realizing you hadn't shared this with anyone and hadn't really planned on doing so. "Shit, I forgot to tell you. I'm sorry," you apologized, offering her a sincere look before continuing, "We just ran into each other at one of the nearby parks during the break while walking our dogs. He wanted to talk, so I listened. He started apologizing, and then he started revealing things, like how he never actually hated me when we were younger and actually liked me. It was overwhelming, so I walked away, and I haven't seen him since."
Wonyoung's mouth hung open in shock. "And you forgot to mention this? Oh my fucking God, this is insane. He's actually fucking crazy, isn't he? Does he think confessing to you after what he did is going to fix anything? You're not buying into this, are you?"
"No, of course not," you asserted, your voice wavering with emotion. "Well, actually, he did seem genuine about being sorry and liking me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive him. I swear I'm not. But the thing is, I can't stop thinking about him. Wonyoung, I don't think you understand. I fucking hate myself right now because all I can think about is him. I hate him so much for what he did to me, but why am I feeling this way?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally let out the pent-up emotions, laying bare your inner turmoil to her.
"Oh, honey," Wonyoung's face softened as she rose from her seat and approached you, enveloping you in a comforting hug as you sobbed into her embrace. "You're right, I have no idea what you're going through, and I fucking hate Jake so much for hurting my best friend in the worst way possible. But I also can't ignore the fact that you just admitted how you can't stop thinking about him."
There was a brief pause before she sighed and gently broke the hug, facing you with a serious expression. "Y/N, do you maybe like Jake?"
Her question caught you completely off guard, and a baffled look crossed your face as you almost jerked in surprise. "What?"
You started to shake your head, but she quickly interjected before you could even deny. "Y/N, just listen. I know this might sound insane, but have you considered that maybe you're experiencing this immense guilt and can't stop thinking about him because you have feelings for him?"
The moment Wonyoung uttered those words, panic surged through you like a tidal wave, causing your breathing to quicken as you vehemently shook your head in denial. There was no way.
"No, what the actual fuck, Wonyoung," you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes as you rose from your seat, needing to put distance between yourself and her. "Why would you even suggest that?"
Wonyoung could see you on the verge of hyperventilating, and she reached out to try to calm you down. "Hey, hey, Y/N, come on, sit down, please," she urged gently. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to upset you. I just think that you're going through so much right now, and from what you just told me, you're conflicted and in a really difficult place. We don't choose who we love, and I think it's weighing heavily on you right now, maybe that's what happened with Jake. He's put you through so much, not just this year, but practically your whole life, and maybe coming to terms with that despite everything, you still fell for him, is creating this guilt within you. It's not your fault, and for fuck's sake, Jake would be the last person I would choose for you to love, because he will never deserve someone like you. But I'm not in charge of that, and I'm so sorry."
In that moment, you broke down completely, your sobs wracking your body as you clung to your friend, desperate for some semblance of solace. Deep down, you knew she was right. You'd been grappling with these feelings for Jake for longer than you cared to admit, and the realization terrified you. You despised yourself for loving him.
"Wonyoung... What do I do?" you whimpered softly, your voice tinged with fear.
"I don't know, Y/N," Wonyoung replied gently, her own voice filled with empathy. "But I promise you're not alone. We'll get through this together."
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You hadn't set foot in any of the downtown bars since that night when you learned about what Jake had done after being harassed by those guys. The thought of returning made you uncomfortable, yet on this Saturday night, with seemingly everyone in your friend group going out, you decided to push yourself to socialize, to reclaim some sense of normalcy in the chaos of your year. However, it quickly became evident that your judgment wasn’t the soundest; you were already feeling miserable, and it wasn't even midnight.
You had arrived with Winter and Ningning, meeting their boyfriends at the bar. But as the night wore on, you lost track of them. Winter was beyond drunk, likely off somewhere making out with Felix, while Ningning and Jay were lost in their own world on the dance floor. Unlike their blissfully intoxicated selves, you felt painfully sober. You longed for Wonyoung's presence; she was away for the weekend with Jungwon visiting his parents, and you regretted accepting the invitation to go out. 
Sighing, unable to immerse yourself in the same mood as your friends, you downed the shot of tequila in front of you before gathering your stuff and making your way to the exit. You made sure to send Winter a text, explaining that you weren't feeling well and were heading home, urging her to enjoy herself and not to worry. Just as you were about to summon an Uber though, an unfamiliar voice called out your name, halting you in your tracks.
At first, the voice seemed like a distant echo, easily dismissed amidst the clamor of the bar. But when it persisted, calling your name again, you couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Hey, Y/N!"
Turning abruptly, you were met with a face that you really didn’t ever want to see. He was obviously in a very intoxicated state; his words slurred, and his movements unsteady as he stumbled toward you.
"Hey, where're you going so fast? Have somewhere to be?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face as if you were close friends.
"Fuck off Jeongin." You curtly spat at him as you attempted to walk away.
He scoffed, his laughter tinged with bitterness. "Jesus Christ, Y/N, is that all you got to say to me after getting me fucking suspended?"
His words sent a chill down your spine, and you whipped your head around to address him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about because I didn’t do anything to get you suspended, but seriously, leave me alone," you angrily told him. As you attempted to walk away once more, you felt his hand reach out and harshly grab your wrist.
"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?" His tone turned menacing, the overpowering scent of alcohol made you grimace. "Aren’t you cute trying to act like you have no idea what you’ve done?"
His grip tightened on your wrist, sending waves of pain shooting through your arm as you struggled to break free. Panic surged within you as you realized he wasn't going to let you leave. "Let go of me! I have no idea what you're talking about. If anything, you’re the one who did this to me!"
"Listen here you bitch, because of your stupid little act of trying to paint yourself as some poor little victim, my fucking future is ruined. So this little act of you trying to act like you have no idea what I’m talking about isn’t going to cut it. You’re going to fucking pay, it’s the least you deserve,” he snarled, his grip on your wrist tightening as he dragged you out of the bar. You fought back, but his anger seemed to fuel his strength.
“You’re fucking hurting me! Seriously let me go you asshole!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear as you struck his arm.
“If you don’t shut the fuck—”
“Let her go, Jeongin.” The interruption came from a familiar voice, causing both you and Jeongin to turn toward the source.
Despite it only being about three months that had passed since you last saw him, Jake looked almost unrecognizable. His hair was longer and a bit unkempt, and he wore plain sweats and a hoodie. Yet, there was no mistaking him.
“Fuck off, Jake. Mind your own fucking business,” Jeongin spat, his disdain evident in his tone.
“You made it my fucking business once you dragged her into whatever you’re doing. So fucking let go of her,” Jake asserted, his voice laced with fury as he approached.
“What? You still fucking pussy whipped for her, huh?” Jeongin harshly threw your wrist away, turning to face Jake. “From what I know, aren’t you also in the same position as I am because of this bitch?”
“Don’t fucking call her that, and the only reason you’re in this position is because you put yourself there. So leave her out of this and go home, you’re drunk. It’s pathetic,” Jake shot back, his anger palpable.
“You’re in no place to be calling anyone pathetic. I mean, look at yourself. Newsflash, she’s a fucking whore! Jake, it’s honestly embarrassing to watch you throw yourself for what? A girl who obviously doesn’t give a shit about you. In fact, I did you a favor, she deserved this. I mean, she’s been so passed around she’s literally like a—” Before Jeongin could finish his drunken rant, he was knocked out cold. Jake's fist met his face in a swift, furious blow.
“Jake!” You gasped in shock, watching as Jeongin crumpled to the dirty street.
“He fucking deserved it,” Jake snarled, his rage barely contained. But before he could do further damage, you reached for his arm.
“Hey, he’s already out, just let it go,” you urged, tugging Jake away as you tried to diffuse his anger.
He turned to you, and in that moment, it was as if his anger melted away, replaced by concern as he took you in. You looked stunning, your eyes filled with worry for him, and Jake couldn't help but once again be struck by the realization of what he had lost.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice was gentle as he reached for your wrist, handling you delicately as if you were made of glass.
You furrowed your brows, concern evident in your features. “I’m fine, seriously. But Jake, you hit him really hard. Are you sure you didn’t break anything?”
Only then did Jake become aware of the ache in his knuckles, the pain radiating through his hand. He winced slightly as you reached to inspect his injured hand.
“You need to get that checked,” you insisted, but Jake shook his head stubbornly.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just ice it and it’ll be fine,” he assured, but you rolled your eyes at his attempt to brush it off.
“Ok fine, let’s go then,” you relented, letting out a sigh and crossing your arms.
Jake gave you a confused look before shaking his head. “I’m fine, Y/N, just go home. It’s late.”
“Jake, I’ll leave once you’re done icing your hand, so let’s go,” you insisted firmly. Knowing you wouldn't budge easily, he relented
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, fine. Let’s go,” he let out another sigh, closing his eyes briefly before nodding and the two of you walked away from the bar, turning left after walking a bit into what seemed to be the entrance of one of the student apartments located downtown.
Quietly, you followed him to the elevator, the tension palpable between you. After a while, Jake broke the silence. “Why were you out alone anyway?”
“Oh, I wasn’t alone. Well, I didn’t come alone, but everyone got really drunk and went off on their own, and I just wasn’t feeling it, so I was trying to go home when Jeongin ambushed me,” you explained, picking at your fingers nervously.
“Wait, so they just ditched you? Who’d you go out with? That’s not safe at all and in fact really dangerous—”
“No, they didn’t ditch me. They were dancing and all, and like I said, I just wanted to go home, so I left. You know damn well Winter and Ningning would never ditch me,” you clarified, rolling your eyes. Thankfully, the elevator dinged, cutting off any further discussion on the matter.
“So, how’s living alone?” you asked, eager to change the topic as you followed him down the hall to his apartment.
He let out a disgruntled grunt. “As lonely as you can expect it to be.” Fishing for his keys in his pocket, he winced a little at the pain his knuckle was giving him. Maybe you were right; it was starting to hurt like a bitch.
“Yeah, I guess going from living with a bunch of guys to being by yourself can be a huge adjustment,” you nodded in agreement. 
Despite the awkwardness in the air, you found yourself surprised at how calm you were feeling in Jake's presence. Given the strain in your relationship over the past few months, you had anticipated the reunion to be much more uncomfortable, especially seeing how the last encounter went, but it wasn't as bad as you had imagined. In fact, you felt lucky that he had run into you and Jeongin; if he hadn't been there, you weren't sure how you would have gotten out of that situation.
“Well, here it is,” Jake said, opening the door to his apartment and gesturing for you to enter. It was a clean studio, cleaner than you had expected, though it seemed he had only the bare essentials.
“Oh, it’s actually really nice,” you remarked, taking in the space as you set your purse down on the island.
Jake chuckled softly as he reached for the fridge to grab some ice for his hand. “What, you weren’t expecting it to be?”
“Oh no, it’s just... I don’t know,” you trailed off, unsure of what you had expected Jake's living space to be like. You hadn't really thought much about his living arrangements; your mind had been preoccupied with other matters, particularly your feelings toward him.
“I just overheard a couple of the EpNu boys talking about how they saw you and you weren’t in the best shape, so I didn’t really expect your apartment to be in the best shape as well,” you truthfully told him. Jake didn’t respond for a couple of seconds, just taking in what you said as he iced his hand.
“Sunghoon and Jay?” he asked, and you nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know... I guess they’re right. I haven’t really been doing the best, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be living like a slob. It’s already depressing enough.” Jake couldn’t meet your gaze. Both of you knew why he had reached this point, and he didn’t want to see any disgust reflected in your eyes towards him.
“Jake, can we talk, for real this time? I know we saw each other during the break, but I think that was just way too soon, and we were both just dealing with so much emotion to fully hold a coherent conversation,” you sighed, finally broaching the subject you had been avoiding. But you knew there would be no better opportunity than now to talk with him. You needed to, at least for yourself.
He nodded before answering, “Uhm, yeah, of course, but if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to. I can just drive you back home.”
“No, I want to. I think I need to, and it’s the least I deserve,” you insisted. He nodded again, leading you to the couch.
Jake nervously bit his lip before sighing, facing you squarely. “Y/N, I just want to start by saying I’m sorry. I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but I really mean it. I've had a lot of time to myself to reflect on everything, and I know that simply saying sorry will never be enough to make up for what I’ve done to you.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “I just can’t even begin to imagine what I put you through, and I’m just so fucking sorry for that. Hearing the awful things people have been saying about you, knowing it’s because of me, it’s just... it's horrible and so upsetting. You don’t deserve any of this. I know we haven’t always gotten along but you have always been a constant in my life and these past few months without you have made me realize the full extent of the pain I caused you. I ended up hurting the person I fell in love with in the worst way imaginable.”
Jake's confession to you brought tears to your eyes as your lips quivered. To hear those words from him ached your heart. It took you a moment to look up at him and regain your breath before you could respond.
“Jake, I know you didn’t send those videos out in the first place, but you were being so fucking stupid, and that ended up costing everything. You’re right, you don’t know what I’ve been through these past few months, because it’s been hell. But I’ve also been suffering not just because of the humiliation from classmates or just knowing that there’s a sex tape of us out there for everyone to see, but it has been so hard coming to terms with the fact that amidst all this, I had also somehow fallen for you. You ruined something that could’ve been so good, and that fucking hurts.”
"I miss you so much, Y/N, so fucking much it hurts. I'm sorry." A tear made its way down Jake’s face, and you couldn’t help but reach out for his hand because you couldn’t help but feel the same way.
“Jake, I don’t know what to do,” you softly said while looking at your intertwined hands.
Jake breathed heavily, “I don’t know either, but Y/N, I’m not expecting you to forgive me. I’ll be spending the rest of my life working for that, but I don’t know if I can go on living like this. I feel so empty without you, like I’m hollow inside and it aches like-”
You just couldn’t listen to him any longer. It hurt too much to see him like this. It hurt you too much to be away from him and so you did the only thing you could think to do. You kissed him.
Jake was obviously taken aback as he stood frozen on the couch, unable to reciprocate or even process what you had done. But your lips eased him as he slowly started to move against them. It was like he was riding a bike again, with muscle memory kicking in. The two of you got closer as your bodies touched one another, deepening the kiss. His hands made their way around your face, cupping them softly as if he was handling delicate porcelain, and you reached for his neck, pulling him closer as you wanted to feel more of him. You had missed this beyond words. You had missed him beyond anything.
As the kiss started to get more heated, you felt Jake slowly pull away, leaving you confused. “Wait, wait, Y/N, shouldn’t we think about this?”
He was right. You should, as every cell in your body was screaming at you about how big of a mistake this was. But right now, you couldn’t give a damn. “Can we just talk about this after? Please, I just need you right now. It’s been so long.”
Jake looked sincerely into your eyes, making sure you were sure of your decision before he gave a small nod and reached for you again.
Your lips moved against one another as if they’d been starved for each other and you quickly moved your body on top of his, straddling him as your mouth opened, letting more of him in. Quiet moans could be heard as you slowly moved your hips down on him while his hands made their way down to cup your ass. 
His lips detached from yours but before you could complain, they reattached themselves to your neck, nipping at your soft spot as you softly moaned. You had been wearing only a thin black slip dress so you could feel the hairs on your body all rise as chills went down your spine. 
As his lips moved their way down your neck, you palmed at his hoodie, “Take it off.”
He obliged with no hesitation and in one swift motion, his bare torso laid before you. Fuck, you had missed him. He looked as gorgeous as ever despite everything and you couldn’t help but rake your eyes over him, taking him all in. 
His patience got to him though as he yanked you down, bringing your lips together again. His fingers played with the bottom of your dress and before you knew it, that too was getting yanked off.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered. You had forgone wearing a bra and so you were only left in a small black thong. You looked like a little present perfectly wrapped for him. 
You gave him a soft smile before reaching for him. You started to kiss your way down his neck to his chest, eliciting another groan from him, but before you could go further, he pulled you up. You shot him a quick look of confusion but he dismissed it. “Next time, I just need you right now.”
Jake got up from the couch, helping you up as well before guiding you backward a couple of steps to his bed. You laid back as you watched him take the rest of his clothing off. Your mouth was watering and to be honest, you hadn’t slept with anyone in a while and you hadn’t realized how badly you had been craving this until now.
He quickly made his way back to you and the two of you attached your lips once more, moving against each other as if you had been starved. One of his hands made its way down to your breast, softly kneading it, as the other hand went further down before reaching under your thong. 
His finger softly glossed over your entrance as you gasped, aching for more. You were wet, beyond soaking and it made Jake harder than ever. He gently played with your pussy before slowly entering a finger. 
You were just as warm as ever as your soft gummy walls sucked him in and your soft mewls were enough to instigate him to start moving his finger slowly. You tightly pulled at his hair as you continued panting into his mouth.
“Babe, you’re soaking,” he smirked a little before kissing you again. His finger was now steadily moving inside you as he teased another.
“Please, Jake please,” you moaned, seeking more of him.
He gave in to your pleas as he added a second finger, stretching you further. You already felt incredibly tight and Jake felt like he was losing his mind. He couldn’t bear to go further without fully being inside you so he pulled his fingers out before yanking your thong down and spreading your legs open.
“Jesus, you’re so beautiful. The absolute prettiest.” Jake praised you before taking his cock and lining it with your entrance. Feeling his tip alone was too much of a tease for you and you whined. 
“Just put it in, please.” He gave in to your plea as he plunged inside of you. 
Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as your mouth opened wide. You felt like you were about to burst with how full he was making you feel. 
“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Jake clenched his jaw, taking in how you felt around him. You were made for him and he couldn’t wait any longer. 
His thrusts were hard and powerful, making sure you felt him everywhere. Your soft pants turned to loud moans as you couldn’t hold them back any longer. He felt too good, plunging deep inside you, hitting against your cervix. Your toes curled and your hands reached for his shoulders to hold on to as he pummeled himself in and out of you.
“Jake, fuck! It’s too good,” you cried out. Tears were forming in your eyes from the pleasure. 
Sweat dripped down his back as Jake continued to thrust into you. He could feel himself getting closer every time you clenched around him and he reached down to capture your lips in his once more. 
Sounds of skin slapping against each other while lewd noises of tongues moving against each other filled Jake’s small apartment as the air around the two of you grew thicker. You knew you were getting close as you could feel the familiar coil below your belly on the verge of snapping.
“Fuck, Jake, I’m almost there, keep going,” you urged him as you maintained eye contact with him. His eyes were raging with fire as your words had him thrusting into you harder. 
Then the splintering feeling came crashing down on you as you clenched around him tightly. It was too good as the world around you spun while all the noise cut out. You let out a whimper as your toes curled tightly and back arched while you finished. 
The sight of you cumming was beyond heavenly and Jake chased quickly after his release. You were limp against him, softly mewling at the overstimulation as he continued to hammer into you before finally cumming inside of you. His deep groan in your ear had you clenching around him one last time as you felt him slump over you. 
The two of you panted loudly, trying to catch your breath as you stayed in your embrace. Your mind had been thoroughly blown, and this moment solidified just how much you had missed Jake. You never wanted to leave his embrace; it was where your raging mind and racing heart seemed to find stillness. Despite everything that had happened, you still yearned for this, and for the first time in a couple of months, you felt some semblance of clarity.
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Your eyes fluttered open, and at first, you were confused as you took in your surroundings. But the events of last night quickly came back to you as you spotted Jake’s now bruised knuckles, his arm wrapped around you.
Tightly closing your eyes, you sighed, knowing that sleeping with Jake had just further complicated an already complicated situation. But no matter how much you tried to paint it as a mistake, you really couldn’t. You simply couldn’t change the fact that you had missed him deeply despite everything.
Feeling too hot under the comforter and the body heat emanating from Jake, you decided to quietly get up, gently moving his arm off of you to avoid waking him up. You searched around for your clothes but quickly realized that you had only worn your dress and there was no way you were getting back into that right now. So, you opted for Jake’s hoodie that was discarded on the floor last night.
You heard rustling from the bed, and when you turned around, you saw that Jake was half awake as he rose up from the bed. His hair was disheveled, and he rubbed his eyes before they laid themselves on you. He seemed surprised that you were still there.
“I thought you’d have been gone by now,” he murmured as he too searched around for his clothes.
You shrugged. “Running away from this would make it even worse.” It was true; what the two of you had done last night definitely wasn’t smart or ideal, but it had happened, and the two of you needed to deal with it.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jake nodded, then asked, “You’re not regretting it?”
You shook your head. “Honestly, no. But Jake, I hope you realize that this doesn’t mean I forgive you for everything.”
“No, I know, I wouldn’t expect you to. But I hope you also realize that what I said yesterday is all true.” He walked towards you, taking both your hands in his as he peered into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m not just saying that to get you to forgive me. I mean it.”
You looked deep into his eyes, searching for any signs of deceit, but found none. All you could do was nod. “Okay.”
“So what does this mean for us?” Jake’s question lingered in your mind. What did it mean? It was already established that the two of you loved each other, but you also couldn’t just overlook what he had done.
“I’m not sure, Jake,” you sighed. “I think we need to start over.”
Jake nodded. “Okay, and what does that mean?”
“I think you and I both know that we can’t date each other right now. That relationship would be fucked up the second we do. I think we need some time to maybe rebuild our relationship on a blank slate.” You scanned Jake’s face, hoping to gauge how he was feeling about your suggestion.
“Okay, a blank slate, that works for me.” This was more than he had expected you to give him, and it meant there was hope for the two of you. It was all he could ask for.
“Jake, you need to get your act together with school, your friends, and your parents. I don’t want you fucking up everything because of this one mistake. Yeah, it was a huge one, but what’s done is done and it can’t derail your entire life. And once you feel like you’re back on the right track, then maybe we can start over again.” You peered at him deeply, and he sighed. He knew you were right. His life had been so fucked up for the past few months, and he knew he had to straighten it out before even thinking about pursuing anything with you.
“I will, I promise. Thank you, Y/N, and I know I’ll be working for what I did to you for the rest of my life and that I’m nowhere close to being deserving of your forgiveness or even this. So I promise I’ll make it up to you and get my life back together. I love you.” Jake nodded as he cupped your face in his hands before giving you a kiss on your forehead.
You hugged him, and the two of you stayed in that embrace for a bit until you pulled back. “Wonyoung’s never going to forgive you for this, you know that? But I’ll be willing to work on her if you just show me that you’re genuine about this and working on yourself.”
And from the moment Jake dropped you back at your dorm, he did just as he promised you. For the first time in a while, he found himself eagerly making his way down to the library to get some work done for his classes, and while he knew it was a long shot, he texted Sunghoon and Jay. They were his best friends, and they also hadn’t deserved the betrayal Jake had put them through; they deserved a real apology. Jake was determined to change.
Slowly but steadily, it seemed to be working. Every now and then, you’d see him in the hall or at the library, and you would exchange waves or smiles. Each time, he looked like he was doing much better. You had also heard through the grapevine that he had been trying his best to mend each of the relationships he had with the EpNu brothers. Of course, not everyone had been as receptive or even willing, but everyone knew that he was atleast making an effort.
Long before you knew it, the year was ending, and while the back half of your semester didn’t bring you much excitement, you actually preferred it that way. After all that had happened, you didn’t need any more drama in your life. And honestly, you couldn’t complain. You still had your best friend by your side, along with a couple of other friends you had made along the way, whom you knew you would have for the rest of your life. Plus, you ended the year with pretty good grades, considering everything that had happened. The gossip and hate you initially received had pretty much died down, and honestly, you believed this was the best outcome that could have happened.
"I think we did alright, don’t you agree Lady?" Your sweetheart of a dog barked excitedly, as if she was agreeing with what you had said. But before you could say anything further, Lady's attention was taken as you saw a familiar ball of fur make her way towards the swingset where you and Lady were. Lady seemed to disregard you the second she spotted her friend and started excitedly chasing after Layla.
You watched the two of them playing with each other, a smile growing on your face. A few seconds later, you felt a presence on the swings next to you. You knew exactly who it was before you even turned to face him.
“Hey,” he said softly, offering you a smile as he extended his hand for a handshake. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet you.”
A smile as bright as the sun spread across your face as you shook his hand. “Hey Jake, I’m Y/N. It’s great to meet you.”
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cntloup · 8 months
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"I've always loved you." is so bestfriend!Simon... but the words never leave his mouth. Every time they come close, only an epsilon away from seeping through his lips, he shuts them closed, biting back the words.
But the way he looks at you, as though you're a goddess blessing him with your grace and beauty. Your presence surrounds him and there's nothing else... only you.
The way he speaks to you in a soft, warm voice in contrast to his cold and commanding tone with others.
The way he focuses on you and only you whenever you rant about something that's bothering you, some annoying coworker or a new obsession, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
He's there whenever you need him with anything. Sometimes you don't even have to ask. He's always there for you. Something needs fixing at your apartment? Already done. Ran out of groceries? Refrigerator and cabinets filled. Used up all your favorite skin products? Already bought and placed on your vanity table with spares in the bathroom cabinet.
And god forbid, someone keeps harassing you. Then all hell breaks loose. But of course he won't let you find out and you wonder why this person mysteriously disappeared.
He's not subtle at all. Everyone sees it. Everyone except oblivious you.
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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suguwu · 3 months
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minors and ageless blogs dni.
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your planet was known for its sapphires.
the mines dried up a handful of years ago. the ipc scraped the deposits down to the marrow, until not even the smallest glint of crystal existed.
most of the sapphires were off-planet, now, adorning the arms of the elite throughout the cosmos, shining brilliantly even in the dimmest light. they gleamed dark blue, like where the ocean meets the sun, all shimmering waters. the fathomless depths.
aventurine wears a bracelet made of them.
technically, it's yours.
you lost it to him under the two moons of a planet you've long forgotten the name of. you only remember the blushing rose of its sky reflecting off of the bone dice.
it was a stupid thing to put up as collateral. but you were stupid, back then, high off of innumerable victories.
your hands were shaking too badly to undo the clasp; he had to do it for you. he slipped it onto his own wrist, his expression unreadable, and you wondered if the gems still carried the heat of your skin.
he showed up again six system months later, with a smug little secret tucked up in the corner of his easy grin. he'd slung the bracelet into the pot without even glancing at you.
he only looked at you after you'd won it back.
"i don't lose often," he told you. "how about a drink?"
you should have declined, but you didn't. you let him buy you one round, and then two, and by the third, you'd said some things you shouldn't have.
the ipc acquired that planet a few weeks later.
you moved.
aventurine found you again in epsilon, reigning over a poker table. you'd scowled at him when he sat down across from you; he'd just smiled.
"nothing personal," he said. "just business."
"fuck off," you said, but he hadn't.
he won easily. you pushed your chips over to him and he caught you by the wrist.
"wanna chance to win it back?" he asked.
"i don't have anything left."
he tapped a gloved fingertip over one of the sapphires.
"no," you said.
"shame," he said. "i liked that."
"then buy one."
he tilted his head. "we both know i can't."
you flinched. you couldn't help but cover the bracelet with your hand, as if doing so would make his knowledge disappear.
aventurine smiled. "alright then," he said. "next time, maybe."
"there won't be a next time."
"we'll see."
there was a next time. you don't have the money you lost to him, and he ran a thumb over the sapphires. he left the table with them glinting on his wrist, night-sky blue.
the time after that, he traced his fingers over the delicate skin of your inner wrist after clicking the clasp shut. the stones were still warm from his body heat.
you left before you did something stupid.
it went like that for a long while, the bracelet constantly changing wrists. you knew you shouldn't be betting it, but you couldn't quite help yourself.
"ambassador," aventurine said. "imagine meeting you here."
you didn't glance up from your game. "stoneheart."
"so cold," he said.
the bracelet has been yours for the last eight system months.
"you started it," you said, because he's never called you by your title.
he laughed. "i suppose i did."
at your gesture, the other players left the table. aventurine settled next to you. you dealt him in without a word.
he lost.
you eyed him over the rim of your drink. "you're off your game."
"am i?"
"seems like it."
"my apologies, then."
you watched him for a moment. his smile curled at the edges, something smug tucked up between his lips. it didn't reach his vivid eyes.
you sighed and unclasped the bracelet.
he pulled back as you reached for your wrist, his eyes sharp. "i lost, you know."
"yeah," you said. "now hold still."
he hesitated for a moment more, but then he let you put the bracelet on him. you clicked the clasp closed. he twisted his wrist, the facets of the sapphires catching the light, the ocean's reflection. your mother had carved them perfectly.
"don't lose it," you told him. "i'll win it back next time."
he studied you, his gaze slipping beneath your skin like a knife. then he smiled, carefully carefree.
"wanna bet?"
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phoenixblaze1412 · 10 months
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HCs for reader and Dottore who have a child pls? - 🐓
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Having a child of his own was a topic that Dottore rarely talks about. He already has his segments of different timelines and ages, why would he need a child when he can create a child segment of himself?
During Pregnancy
Dottore didn't expect for you to waltz into his lab, hug him from behind and suddenly announce that you're pregnant with him going to be a father soon. Even the segments stopped working on their tasks as they stared at you in shock.
You were shocked to see the doctor faint and fell to the floor, the vials he was holding shattered when he dropped it. You were panicking the whole day while the segments reassured you that Dottore will be fine.
The news of your pregnancy eventually reached the ears of the other harbingers. Most of them congratulated you while some, Pantalone mostly, just teased Dottore at how a mad scientist like him could be able to create an infant properly instead of creating it in a lab.
Regrator even gifted him with books like 'Parenting 101', 'How to care for an infant', 'How to be a good father and husband'. Dottore was definitely pissed about it.
The whole pregnancy progress actually went smoothly. With your husband as a doctor and scientist himself, he immediately has a medicine for any pain or cramps that you are feeling.
The only thing Dottore couldn't handle well was your cravings and mood swings.
Sure he experiments on a lot of things, humans and machines for example. But he doesn't experiment on meals. He and his segments could only watch in shock as you eat a Jueyun Chili popsicle. You literally just froze the damn ingredient and stuck a popsicle stick on it.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be eating something spicy while pregnant? I don't think that's good for the baby, love."
"If you don't shut the fuck up, I will stick this up your ass."
He immediately turned and walked away when he saw you bite a large chunk of the food, proving you weren't bluffing. He decided to just let you be, you would come to him later and ask for affection anyways.
Whenever Dottore is busy and can't be by your side, Pantalone is there to be your company at the time. Pantalone would literally spoil you, if you ask him anything you want, he only need to snap his fingers and you immediately get the thing you asked. Dottore didn't liked it though.
"Come now, doctor. She told me you weren't letting her have what she wants most of the time."
"That's because I'm doing it for both her and the baby's health. Besides, she is my wife, Regrator. Go fuck someone and make them pregnant then you'll come to experience what I'm going through."
During Labor
When your time for labor came, Dottore was the one to personally help you deliver the baby. He doesn't trust any other doctors or midwifes. Besides, his segments are also there to assist him.
What he didn't expect though is for you to crack Delta's fingers from gripping too hard. Strangled Gamma when he encouraged and told you how easy it is to just push the baby, when it's not. Even punched Alpha to the gut when he tried to calm you down. Omega and Theta had to hold you down by grabbing each of your arm so you wouldn't hurt anymore segment.
What surprised him even more was when you yelled out curses and threats towards him.
"Just one more push, darling."
"I'm already pushing you fucking cocksucker! If you weren't such a whining bitch, I wouldn't be in much pain! I'll fucking chop your fucking dick off and feed it to the rishboland tigers!"
Dottore could only stand in shock as he held the baby in his hands. He knows he's supposed to be happy since he's holding his child in his arms but your threat made him froze in fear and possibly traumatized.
Epsilon and Sigma gently took the crying infant in his grasp before cutting off the umbilical cord and went to clean the blood off.
In the end, both you and Dottore were tired from the whole event but you two happily held your newborn baby.
Aftermath
Your child was loved by not just the segments, but the entire fatui harbingers as well. Pierro and Pulcinella becoming the grandfathers while the rest of the members are either the aunts or the uncles.
Dottore actually did read the books Pantalone gave him and surprisingly, he's doing great.
Whenever you or Dottore are busy, Dottore would let a segment or two babysit your child. He doesn't trust his fellow harbingers when it comes to taking care of his kid.
One time he let Arlecchino babysit, he came back to see both her and Columbina dressing up your child like it was a doll. It was cute, from what the damselette said, but he prefer his child wearing the same color palette as his.
He is not going to let 'Uncle Childe' babysit. He could already tell that the ginger war freak would try to teach your infant how to hold a weapon at a young age.
You had to convince your husband to not be too overprotective of your child and let the others at least spend a bit of time with 'mini Dottore', Sandrone was the one who gave the nickname.
Your baby's first word was 'Lonnie'. Both you and Dottore had to chase Pantalone around the palace for him being your child's first words instead of Mama or Dada. Luckily their second word was Dada, you were a bit disappointed it wasn't you.
Your child has Dottore's soft, blue, curly hair meanwhile their eye color was the same shade as yours. The only problem was they had the same sharp teeth as your husband. You had to endure all the biting from both your child and husband.
Dottore would be the one who teach your child how to read and learn. He lets you teach them how to write, his own handwriting is barely understandable and he doesn't even have the patience for it.
You have a family picture of you three and another with all the segments placed on your bedside drawer.
There was another time where you and Dottore let the segments take care of your child while you both go out to the city and enjoy dinner together.
You both came back to see your child asleep in Omega's arms while the other segments were trying to wipe away the colorful doodles your child drew on their faces.
Since Dottore is the last one to go to bed due to him wanting to finish his work for the day, he would expect to see you and your child on the bed asleep already.
He would lay down beside you, your child in the comfort of your arms as you both dozed off to sleep. Dottore could only smile and place a kiss on both of your foreheads before wrapping his arms around your figure and pulling you and your child close to him.
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cameronspecial · 11 months
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Let Me Do It, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Dangerous Stunts
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.0K
Summary: Alpha Epsilon Pi love their dangerous antics, but Y/N is there to make sure Rafe does them safely.
Masterlist
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Rafe grew up in the Outer Banks as a Kook. He got to do crazy, dangerous and illegal stunts all the time without any consequences. Add to the fact that he was a single guy and it was sure to be a recipe for disaster. However, when he got his Angel, his frat brothers would say he became the complete opposite. It is an over-exaggeration because he still does the risky stunts. The only difference: he does it a little more safely for his girl. One example is the famous cliff jump that everyone does whenever there is a cliff near water. The boys of Alpha Epsilon Pi and their guests all arrive at the beach with the sight of the fun activity and immediately most of the dare-devils want to be a part of that. “Dude, we have to do that,” Topper points out. Rafe enthusiastically nods his head, “We totally have to. I’m going to help Angel set up and then we can head up.” He turns to see the worried look on Y/N’s face. “Rafe, I don’t think you should do that. It looks dangerous,” she frets, watching as the person who just jumped splats across the water. It looks painful. He takes her hands into his and brings them near his heart, “Come on. Please, let me do it, Angel.” 
She gives him a tilt of her head and can see how much he wants to do it. She lets out a sigh, “Fine, but only if you wear a life jacket.” Rafe is about to let out a celebratory cheer until he hears her condition. “Angel, none of the other guys are going to wear a life jacket. I don’t even think half of them own one,” he argues, not wanting to be the only one wearing one. Her expression doesn’t change, “Well, good thing you have a girlfriend who thinks ahead and who brought one. So either you wear the life jacket or you don’t go up at all.” The only person who can order Rafe Cameron around is Y/N Y/L/N. He listens to her command and sorrowfully puts on the jacket she is holding out to him. 
The group set up their area and everyone who wasn’t going to jump was already relaxing on the sand when the others made the climb up the cliff. The Alpha Epsilon Pi group is all circled around the cliff, trying to decide who is going to go first. They notice Rafe’s added accessory. Kelce laughs, “What are you wearing?” “Shut up. Angel made me wear it. You are just jealous that you don’t have someone who cares enough about you to be concerned about your safety,” Rafe snaps, bringing his hand thumbs under the jacket. This causes Kelce to stop laughing and to look sad at the truth of the situation. Tired of the looks the group is giving him, Rafe runs toward the edge and throws himself off of it. Y/N can easily spot her boyfriend falling down the cliff with his life jacket on, heading into the water to meet him halfway. His head breaks the surface of the water to see his Angel swimming over to him and a massive smile grows on his face. He speeds up, so she doesn’t have to do that much work. He brings her legs around his waist once they meet because he knows she isn’t the strongest swimmer. 
“Was it fun?” she questions, moving his wet hair away from his face. He looks at her with a sparkle in his eyes, “I did. Thank you for always wanting to keep me safe, Angel. I felt very secure when I jumped.” A sweet smile appears on her face and she brings their lips together. 
———
What do slightly tipsy fratboys do when they have two carts and an empty slopped street? Cart racing. Yet again, Y/N is there to make sure Rafe is just a little bit safer with his recklessness. “Helmets keep that amazing brain of yours safe. So I need you to wear one for me, Rafe,” she states while placing her bicycle helmet on his head. She has to loosen it a little to make it fight and then kisses him on the cheek. “Good luck. Kick Louis’ ass.” He grows cocky at her encouragement and hops into the cart. Daisy counts the boys down. As soon as she says go, they are pushed off down the hill. Rafe didn’t expect to be so fast and he quickly realizes he doesn’t have anything to stop himself. A car backs out of the driveway and he has nothing to save himself. The cart slams into the driver's side door and the motion causes him to fly backward onto the pavement. His head flings back against it, but thanks to the helmet on his head, more serious damage isn’t done. 
Y/N comes running and tells him not to move. Her phone is in her hand, so she can call an ambulance. “You have to stay still and keep the helmet on until the ambulance gets here. We want to prevent any further damage,” she informs, gently lacing her fingers with his for comfort. He knows he should listen, but he just wants to feel her touch, “Angel, I am fine. I promise.” “Rafe, I’m not kidding. Stay still until the ambulance gets here. Just to be safe.” He doesn’t want to add to her stress around the situation, so he listens. The siren gets louder as they wait and mixes in with the fratboys arguing with the driver. 
She can finally see the light of the ambulance and waves them down. The paramedics get to work on assessing the situation, letting Rafe know, from what it looks like on the scene, that he has no brain or spinal damage. “We are still going to go to the hospital to double-check. It’s a good thing that you are wearing a helmet. It probably helped prevent anything more serious,” the paramedic tells him as he gets put into the ambulance. He looks over at Y/N who is handling the driver situation, “Yeah, I have a pretty smart girlfriend.” She sees him about to get taken away and runs over to be there for him. Sure, his crazy, dangerous stunts aren’t as dangerous anymore, but he was okay with that. Because he prefers keeping himself safe for his guardian Angel. 
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dottores · 1 year
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HELIOTROPES
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pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui, mentions of past prostituion (not dottore or reader), implication of reader being slapped and getting hurt (not badly)
notes: i dont think u guys understand how much fun im having introducing the segments sobs. adhufsdiuf i might make a little reference sheet for them and attach it to masterlist if u guys want
JOY
Mutiny. 
He had been dealing with mutiny for five years. He should have expected that the Iota segment wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. He should have sewn it shut. In a matter of a week, every single one of the segments knew that their red thread had finally appeared. In a matter of a month, every single one of the segments had abandoned their projects to return to Dottore’s estate in Snezhnaya and Dottore was fed up. 
This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He knew his segments because they were him, and he knew that as soon as they found out, they would be on their way back to Snezhnaya to find out if it was true for themselves. He had half a mind to deactivate every single one of them but he figured that even if he did that and recreated them, it would just be the same issue all over again and a massive waste of resources because the segments would not change--it was why they were created, to preserve his mentality at different years.
It did not take long for the older segments to put together what Dottore was planning on doing with the red thread and their soulmate and they were not happy about it. 
Dottore didn’t think he had a single day for himself in the past five years. The segments were relentless, offering to help with his research. Two sets of eyes are better than one, they would say, but Dottore knew they were full of shit. Dottore had always valued his independence highly, even as a child. There was no way that they all suddenly wanted to work with him at any given moment after years of convincing him that they were perfectly capable of running research without his supervision. They were using it as an excuse to keep an eye on him, to make sure that he didn’t make any progress on figuring out how to sever the thread, and Dottore was livid over it. 
Every day, a different segment was waiting for him at his lab or in the library, pressing him to work on a variety of different projects--none being research on the red thread, of course. And to Dottore’s absolute frustration, his segments were as manipulative and intelligent as him, so whenever he tried to brush them off to do as he pleased, he was met with snide comments about so much for not letting their soulmate get in the way of their research. 
He had backed himself into a corner, and it was no one’s fault but his own. 
Dottore sighed as he flipped through one of Epsilon’s reports. 
Ley line outcrops sprouting up more often in Avidya forest.
Possible roots in Dragonspine breaking the surface? Does Irminsul grow upside down? 
Upside down, Dottore pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to think. Could it be growing in the Abyss, and the roots are traveling up through the earth past the surface? 
How would that even work? Could the Abyss sustain life? Does the Irminsul tree even count as life? 
One of his hands slid down his face, rubbing at his mouth as he tried to piece together the puzzle laid out before him. He would have to talk to the Balladeer. The Sixth was the one that Pierro frequently sent on missions down in the Abyss, if anyone knew more about it, it would be him… or Pierro himself, but Dottore did not necessarily want to go out of his way to talk to Pierro because it usually ended in him being sent on another mission.
“Let us go looking for them.” 
It was Rho again, this time, standing at the door to Dottore’s lab. He exhaled, dragging his gaze up from the papers to the segment. Once he was acknowledged, Rho stepped into the room and Dottore raised his eyebrows waiting for him to continue. Rho looked pointedly at Dottore’s thumb, Dottore just shook his head once he realized what Rho was referring to, turning around to prepare a burner. 
“You would deny the younger segments time with our soulmate? Deny them the experience of actually knowing their soulmate while they are the same age?” Rho pressed, drawing closer to Dottore. Dottore looked at Rho over his shoulder, warning him: don’t you dare come closer. Rho pressed his lips together, stopping midstep. “It’s been five years since the thread appeared, they are already five years older than Kappa. They’re the same age as Iota. Soon they’ll be older than him, and Gamma, you know how Gamma-”
“There is no way to find them,” Dottore dismissed. “Get back to work.”
“Iota has been hysterical for days, Gamma is so anxious that he can barely focus on his research. Neither of them had ever given up hope that our soulmate would appear and you’re going to refuse-”
“How do you intend for me to find them?” Dottore was getting irritated. Never had he dealt with so much insubordination from his segments until this cursed red thread had shown up. “Follow the string? We both know that’s not possible. There will be no clues for another five years, at least, and ten years is more likely.”
Rho was frustrated, Dottore could tell from the way the segment was clenching and unclenching his jaw rapidly. Dottore couldn’t bring himself to care because quite frankly, he was frustrated. He could feel the emotions of each segment, of course he knew Gamma was anxious, of course he knew Iota was hysterical. He could feel his anxiety, he could feel his hysteria. He could feel Zeta’s hope and Theta’s rage. He could feel Delta’s stress and Epsilon’s curiosity. He could feel Lambda’s indifference and he could feel every single one of his own emotions so intensely that he wanted to rip out his own hair. 
He was not used to it. Even after five years, he was not used to it. He had gone centuries feeling little to nothing and he felt overwhelmed--he couldn’t figure out how to deal with this in an efficient manner and over the past week, it just seemed to be getting worse.
“We can go in the general direction,” Rho finally responded and Dottore only shook his head, closing his eyes. 
He felt tired, he felt so tired all of a sudden and he wasn’t sure why--he had never felt so tired so abruptly before. He wondered if the whole situation was finally starting to set in, five years later. None of them had the nerve to confront him about this before now. 
“Good luck with that,” Dottore said dryly, “All of Teyvat is south of us, you’ll have six whole nations to search.”
“You could help,” Rho snapped, Dottore could see his segment’s temper waning, and he could feel his own thinning. “Instead of trying to…”
He thought maybe it was more than just being tired over the situation. 
He exhaled carefully, fingers pressing hard into the cool metal table beneath his hand. His body felt exhausted, as if he had been forced into spars with the Captain again. His chest felt heavy and his mind felt sluggish, and it was so sudden. If Dottore didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought one of his segments had the audacity to try to drug him.
Rho was still talking, but Dottore was now distracted, trying to figure out what was wrong with himself before Rho could take advantage of the apparent weakness to push him even more. His gaze drifted up to the vents of his lab, filtering the air from some of the more dangerous chemicals that he worked with in his experiments. 
Had they failed? 
No, Rho would be feeling it as well. 
Unless it was only affecting him because he’s been in the room longer. 
Even then, Dottore’s body was created to withstand what would take down the average human’s body. Chemicals should not be enough to make him feel like this. It had to be something else.
It had to be something else. 
But what?
Dottore didn’t know and the longer he dwelled on the issue, the more his body betrayed him. Rho was beginning to realize something was wrong, he could tell from the way his voice was becoming slower, from the way his brows were furrowing as he observed Dottore. 
What was-
The thread. Dottore’s gaze drifted down to his thumb as the thread vibrated--once, twice, three times, the daily goodnight that he had become familiar with. Every night, without fail, once the sun began to fall, his soulmate would flick the thread, he had become accustomed to it in a way that he shouldn’t have. His gaze drew to the side, to the window of his lab where the sun began to set over the snowy hills in the distance. 
He hadn’t realized it had gotten so late. 
“It’s been five years since the thread appeared,” Rho had reminded him. 
Five years. His soulmate would have turned ten years old recently. 
The third stage: emotions, pains, they would be shared between the two soulmates—begins once both soulmates have reached the age of ten.
At once, all of the puzzle pieces joined together before his eyes--the tiredness, the influx of emotions that did not belong to him or one of his segments, the odd, momentary pains that would prick his hands and knees. They were not his emotions or his pain. It was not his fatigue. 
It was his soulmate’s.
Dottore was many things--a scholar and a Harbinger, but above all, he was a fool and suddenly, a very, very mortal one at that. 
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Some people thought it romantic that Celestia prevented soulmates from finding one another before their fated meeting. Dottore thought it was absurd—especially because he had to deal with… this.
The Iota segment was sobbing, curled in on himself on the ground, babbling about how their string was gone and their soulmate was dead. Dottore wondered if he should be embarrassed, staring at the younger version of himself, unimpressed and unmoved by the outburst, arms crossed at his chest as people in the city began to look their way--never for too long, because they knew exactly what the symbols that adorned their cloaks meant, but long enough that it was beginning to tickle his nerves.
The Delta and Gamma segments were trying to calm him down, telling him that no, their soulmate was still alive and yes, the thread was still there--Iota just couldn’t see it because it disappeared from his view. Celestia’s oh so convenient way of stopping soulmates from tracking each other down before they were meant to meet each other. 
Dottore shook his head, exasperated when all attempts at soothing Iota failed. This was exactly why he didn’t like bringing his segments out with him, it always became some sort of project. Dottore’s lips twisted into a frown as he contemplated just leaving them to continue further into the city, in the direction of the old building that was rumored to be the base of the new black market network spreading throughout the Snezhnayan capital, encroaching on the territory of the organization that had been working with the aristocrats and the Fatui for decades to keep the economy stable.
Dottore was the one sent to shut it down before it got out of hand, sent to defend their ‘partners’... and perhaps get a few important figures in their debt. He hadn’t necessarily wanted to go but he figured while he was out, he could get Gamma the supplies he had been looking for before he had started having a meltdown over their soulmate, but once Iota found out that Gamma was joining him, Iota insisted on coming along… and since Iota was tagging along, Delta demanded on coming too, not one to let the ten-year-old segment out of his sight for long. 
Dottore supposed it was for the best, he could leave the other two to handle the outburst while he went to shut down the new competition. 
The wind was brisk against his skin as he made his way down the dirt roads, small vendors lined the streets, their stands dusted with snow, the shop owners bundled beneath heavy cloaks and furs. None of them dared to try to sell their products to him--instead, he only received wary glances and hushed whispers as he passed by. 
The people of Snezhnaya did not trust the Fatui. They had no love left for the Tsaritsa and her followers, placing all of their faith in the old aristocratic families of their motherland instead. The noble families kept the coffers full and homes warm in the dead of winter where their Archon had abandoned them and the Fatui cared for naught but their own goals and ambitions. 
There was some truth behind their reasoning, Dottore acknowledged as he turned down the last side street. The Tsaritsa did abandon her people to prepare for the war against Celestia, even if it was for their own good in the long run, and the Fatui did only really care for their own goals… or at least Dottore did. Capitano, Arlecchino, Pulcinella and Signora, they all had varying degrees of sympathy for the common folk but it didn’t matter because when it came down to it, they would always put the downfall of the gods first. 
And that disconnect would always keep the aristocrats a level above the Fatui when it comes to good relations with the civilians. It was none of Dottore’s business, he didn’t handle politics--that was up to Pulcinella to try to fix--but it was beginning to affect his research. His funding was decreasing rapidly, and between that and dealing with his segments and the influx of emotions from his soulmate, Dottore was at his wits end.
His soulmate was an anxious little thing. He had learned how to differentiate between which emotions were coming from his segments and which were coming from them. There wasn’t much he felt on their end besides nervousness and tiredness at night and as frustrating as it was, he could not close off their emotions like he could with his segments. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the waves of drowsiness and apprehension, they always managed to trounce him at the most inopportune times. 
But it was midday now, so he shouldn’t be at risk of any unwelcome sensations. He figured it was the best time to confront their new enemies.
Dottore exhaled as he finally reached the old building—it was worn down, the wood of the door split down the middle. He was not sure what he was expecting but it was not this.
He frowned as he pushed the door open, bracing himself for a group of enemies inside only to find an empty, unfurnished room. His frown deepened, gaze darting around as he tried to figure out if this was some sort of trap or if the place had been abandoned… and if it had been abandoned, that means the Fatui had a rat to sniff out. 
… But the place didn’t seem to be abandoned. In fact, it looked as if someone was living there. Water was boiling on a stove in the corner of the room, there was a half-eaten meal on a dingy kitchen table, and on the opposite side of the room, there was a bed with half-made sheets.
He wondered if the location he was given was wrong because this place appeared to be a refuge for a homeless person. 
There was a door at the end of the room with a dim light glowing from beneath and Dottore decided he better at least try to get some answers as to the actual location of the base before heading out, lest he deal with the Jester’s displeasure again. 
A thin layer of snow coated parts of the hardwood floor, having trespassed through the split roof above, crunching beneath his boot as he approached the door. He didn’t waste a second when he got to the door, pushing it open hard—perhaps too hard, considering it nearly came off the hinges as it slammed into the wall.
Dottore’s eyes narrowed on the only figure in the room. A young man, no older than nineteen or twenty, leaped to his feet, violet eyes unfocused and wild at Dottore’s arrival. He was tall and thin, too thin, dark hair poorly kempt. He would have brushed him off as another homeless citizen of Snezhnaya, to be dead as soon as the first blizzard of the winter hit… but Dottore hesitated, noting the inked quill in his hand, and the parchment on the desk he was sitting at.
Two long strides and Dottore was at the desk, snatching the parchment before the man could react. His eyes scanned the words rapidly, reading the list of requested goods, and it didn’t take long for him to put together what was happening.
He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed, “Where are the rest of your men?”
The man did not respond.
“I advise you to answer my question lest you find yourself without your head,” Dottore said dryly, placing the parchment back down and looking up at the man, who he could only assume was running the competing market.
“There are no men.” The response was clipped and cold, Dottore’s eyes trailed down to where jagged nails were digging into his palms—he was scared, trying to hide it. Good. “Only me.”
“Only you?” Dottore asked, amused. “Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t care if you believe it,” the man retorted.
“If you care about your life, you’ll care about what I believe,” Dottore countered, watching the way the man stiffened at his words. 
“Does it matter what you believe, or if I care about my life?” the man asked, voice quickly. “Or will I die anyway?”
Dottore smiled thinly, “I haven’t decided yet.”
The man looked frustrated. Dottore was unbothered, waiting for him to speak--the following silence was cold, tense. Dottore liked to believe he was a patient man but he was also a man who did not like his time being wasted. 
One man causing such a ruckus amongst their partners… he considered the possibility of it actually being true. He didn’t think there was any chance of it, logically. The original organization has controlled Snezhnaya’s economy for centuries now--it was well embedded in society, the aristocrats depended on it, the civilians depended on it, the Fatui depended on it. 
One man-
“The people aren’t as fond of the aristocrats as everybody thinks. They’re just the only option when the Fatui is the alternative,” the man finally said, “and it doesn’t matter what organization is running the market, when it comes down to it, the people keep the economy alive. The Triglav have been decreasing the quality of their products--watering down alcohol, reducing portions of produce in the markets--they thought the people would remain ignorant to it.”
Dottore mulled over his words, as far as he was aware, the Harbingers were also ignorant to the Triglav fiddling with the economy and goods. He wondered if the aristocrats were aware, working with them to shave some extra profits off the civilians. More irritated, he wondered if this was part of the reason why his funding was being affected.
“Except they realized,” Dottore mused, eyeing the man, trying to figure out how he became involved with it.
“Except I realized,” the man corrected sharply, giving Dottore another wary glance before he sat back at his desk. “I was the one that noticed what they were doing. I was raised on the streets of Novotroizov, just outside the capital, but I spent most of my time here-”
“I don’t care for your life story,” Dottore said. “Get to the point.”
The man smiled but it did not reach his eyes. “I had connections here in the city, it was not hard to siphon off unhappy contractors from the Triglav once they knew that they were being swindled by them and their families were suffering as a consequence.”
Dottore hummed to himself, “And where did you learn to read? Write? Understand economics?” he asked doubtfully, gaze drawing over the man as he dabbed the tip of his quill back into the dark ink.
The man hesitated, quill hovering over the parchment for a moment before he cleared his throat. “I worked at one of the higher-end red houses in the city, one that the aristocrats and the elites of the Triglav enjoyed to frequent. They run their mouths without care as to who might be listening. I learned much from them.”
Dottore almost smiled. Almost. The irony of the Triglav being the one to create their own competition was just a bit amusing to him. He rarely dealt with their elites personally but they were very quickly becoming a hindrance to his research and all hindrances must be dealt with.
Must be dealt with. Dottore looked at the man with a new light, an idea forming in the back of his head. The Ninth and Eleventh spots were now free, and so long as the Triglav controlled the economy, the Fatui’s money would at least partially be at the whims of the aristocrats that work with them and the organization's elites as the Fatui did not have their own bank…
“Well, as I see it, there are two options, I-” Dottore paused suddenly, a stinging feeling sharp across his cheek, as if he had been slapped, and a jolt of shock. Or, not him, his soulmate, he realized, gaze darting down to the thread on his thumb, because the man hadn’t moved from his desk, his knuckles white around the wood as he waited for the ultimatum. He forced himself to continue, voice tight, trying to mask the rising anger, “I can kill you, resolving this issue all at once, or we could try to find some use for you in our ranks.”
They were slapped, Dottore could feel echoes of the stinging sensation across his cheek, the shock that had run through his soulmate’s body, he could still feel the shock, now riddled with distress. Ten years old, he could barely constrain the rage pooling in his gut, he could barely control the way his mind brought him back to his own childhood with his parents and the unpleasant adults living in the village, who is slapping a ten year old? And with that much force? 
He could barely focus on the situation at hand--luckily, the man was still sitting in front of him, he hadn’t moved or spoken, suspicious of the options he was given, but Dottore needed to calm himself before he did start speaking so he could respond properly. 
But he couldn’t, and he felt so, so human because of it, vulnerable to emotions that were supposed to have been killed off a long time ago. He hated it. He hated it so much, his entire life--everything that he had built for himself felt as if it were crumbling. All of those years of teaching himself how to control each and every little emotion, all of those years learning how to seal away the unwelcome ones and channel them into something that was easier for him to process, they were wasted because the gods finally decided to curse him with this damned thread.
And then he felt it--an odd, foreign emotion curling in the depths of his stomach, something that was not of his own nor of his segments, something he hadn’t felt since the day he was chased out of his village. 
Fear. Fear coming from his soulmate. Was it because of whatever was going on where they were? Or could they feel his anger and it was scaring them?
Dottore didn’t know, and he hated not knowing, but he hated even more the fact that he somehow cared enough that it made him calm down when he hadn’t been able to make himself calm down on his own. 
“You don’t even know my name,” the man accused, but his tone was more hesitant, considering Dottore’s offer. Dottore forced his attention back to him, despite the way his thoughts lingered on the phantom pains against his cheek. “I don’t have a vision, I don’t-”
“Yes,” Dottore agreed. “I did not ask because I do not care to learn it--if your existence demonstrates itself to be useful to us, you will be given a new identity and a role to play in the coming war, you will have to leave your name, family and companions behind to take up the mantle… though I doubt that will be difficult for someone like you. Whether or not you have a vision is inconsequential--again, should you prove yourself, you’ll be given an even more potent version of one, one that does not have shackles of Celestia attached to it.”
There it was, Dottore thought to himself, letting out a huff of amusement once he caught the greed flash through the man’s expression. Hooked, the prospect of power would seduce even the most virtuous man, and he knew as soon as he stepped into this room that the man before him was no man of honor. 
“How will I know if I’ve proven myself?” the man asked.
“You will know,” Dottore said dismissively, turning on his heel to leave before another unexpected bout of emotion or pain swept over him. “Do remember who got you to your position, if this works out. I will need considerable funding for my research… and don’t bother trying to run, we will find you.”
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“If everything has been discussed, I’ve had quite enough of tonight’s theatrics,” Pierro’s voice was cold and sharp as he rose to his feet, preparing to dismiss the Harbingers from their meeting.
Dottore waited, eyes drawing across the eight other Harbingers, waiting to see if any of them would speak up. The Balladeer was livid, having spent the majority of the meeting arguing with the Marionette and the Knave, with the Knave’s pet following along making disparaging comments. None of the rest of the Harbingers appeared to intend on saying anything, so just as Pierro was about to dismiss them, Dottore cleared his throat.
At once, all sets of eyes turned in his direction, stares with varying degrees of annoyance trained directly on him. Dottore only smiled thinly, “I would like to discuss an option for the empty seats… or one of them, at least.”
“Perhaps you’ve become slow of mind in your old age,” Scaramouche said sharply. Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask, not even bothering to call out the hypocrisy. “We discussed this for nearly an hour already and you didn’t bother to give input once.”
“I had no interest in interrupting squabbling children,” Dottore replied dryly, turning his gaze back to Pierro, who looked exhausted as he sat back down at the head of the table.
“Speak, Dottore. How faired the mission against the organization usurping the Triglav?” 
“There was no organization,” Dottore said. “Only one man. I believe it to be prudent that we find a spot for him amongst our ranks. Perhaps not as a Harbinger… yet, but a chance to at least prove his worth.”
“One man?” Sandrone questioned, tone laced with disbelief.
“I find it hard to believe as well,” Pulcinella agreed, dark eyes piercing into Dottore. Dottore met his gaze, undeterred, annoyance tugged at his stomach--he hated being doubted. 
“I can assure you, mayor, that I would not waste our time with dubious information,” Dottore drawled, fingers tapping against the wood of the table. 
“I oversee the nation for our esteemed organization. I believe I would know-”
“Did you know that the Triglav were decreasing the quality of Snezhnayan and foreign products to make more of a profit off of the common folk?” Dottore interrupted, lips flat as his amusement dwindled. Pulcinella did not respond, and he took that as answer enough. “I see, so you do not know everything about the nation, do you, mayor?” 
“Make your point, Dottore, this meeting has lasted too long already. I have other matters to attend to,” Pierro said. Dottore was glad his eyes were hidden beneath the mask. 
“The man undermining the Triglav is an orphan, homeless, making by on nothing but connections he formed on the streets. Could you imagine what he would be capable of with resources to back him?” Dottore pressed. “We do not have the support of the people, we do not have an economy backing us, the aristocrats and the Triglav are in bed with one another, working together to sabotage us. It’s only a matter of time before this situation spirals into civil war, and Her Majesty is very much against that.”
“And you think one man will solve all of our issues?” Arlecchino asked, but she didn’t sound as doubtful as much as she did curious, watching Dottore carefully as she waited for him to respond.
He considered her words. It would be bold of him to claim that it would, as he had no reason to believe that this man would solve all of the internal issues that the Fatui were facing. He was promising, yes, but promise was just that--promise. Dottore had watched even the most promising minds in the Akademiya fall to ruin before they could make something great of themselves. 
But if they didn’t think he was confident in this, it would be shut down. And any chance at increased funding for his research would be shut down along with it, which is what it boiled down to for him at its core. He needed more funding. 
“I think he can solve a significant amount. The mayor clearly cannot handle internal affairs on his own. He doesn’t even know half of what’s going on right beneath his nose. The Triglav have been slighting the people of their goods and us of our money. Funding has been decreased-”
“Ah, of course,” Dottore’s eye twitched at the interruption, not even bothering to look at Scaramouche as he readied himself to respond to yet another snide comment from the Sixth. “That’s what it comes down to, your funding. How…”
Pain. Blinding pain shooting up through his hands and forearms, as if a million jagged rocks were digging into his palm and tearing through the flesh, as if he had taken a particularly bad fall and braced himself with his arms, drowning out the rest of the Balladeer’s comment. Were he a lesser man, he would have hissed at the sudden pain, maybe even flinched. Dottore was no lesser man, and he could not afford to give any sort of hint about the red thread tied around his thumb to the vultures perched around him who would take advantage of the weakness at any given moment. 
Instead, he inhaled, forcing himself to continue, annoyance becoming more severe with each passing day as this was now the second time he was interrupted during an important meeting because of his soulmate. 
“Yes,” Dottore said sharply. “Perhaps with better funding, we could make you into something greater than just a mere puppet. Your durability will only be of use for so long, and what will happen to you then? I can see the cracks already. You are not indestructible, Scaramouche.”
Scaramouche did not respond, and Dottore took the opportunity to continue.
“He is a commoner, an orphan, with enough connections throughout the people of Snezhnaya to displace the Triglav without any resources beyond his own mind and those connections,” Dottore continued. “You cannot convince me you do not see the potential this could bring us--nigh-complete autonomy from the Triglav and a wedge between the aristocrats and the people.”
“The consequences for if it fails…” Pulcinella trailed off. “We could be facing civil war far sooner than we’re ready for. The Triglav will not take kindly to us trying to unseat their monopoly… the aristocrats even less so.”
“We will win if it comes to war,” Arlecchino said. “What are they going to do, throw their gold coins at us?”
“No, they will throw our people at us,” Pulcinella responded coldly. “It’s not a matter of winning the war that’s the issue. Our military is dominant, in comparison to their forces. The issue is minimizing civilian casualties, which will not be possible without proper preparation. That could take years, decades. Her Majesty will not want us to antagonize while the people are at risk.”
“I will not go another year, much less decades, without proper funding,” Dottore said, poison dripping from his voice as he spoke. “We have been handed the opportunity to finally become the dominant power in Snezhnaya on a silver platter. We would be fools not to make the most of it. I am no fool, Pulcinella.”
“And if it fails?” The Captain spoke up for the first time, voice low. “Pulcinella is right, we cannot afford the backlash that this failure might bring us.”
“If it fails,” Dottore said tensely, “then I will kill him before it can be traced back to us.”
“Very well,” Pierro said after a moment of silence. “Bring him in, if he proves himself, we will consider replacing one of the two empty seats.”
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Plink. Plink. Plink.
Dottore’s eye twitched, gaze drawing from the parchment in front of him to the countertops across the room, where the leaky faucet dripped to the metal of the basin incessantly. He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to look back at the report, trying to figure out what exactly Theta was trying to get at with the conclusions of his residue research.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
Dottore exhaled through his nose, lips pressed together thinly as his gaze drew back to the faucet. Even in his rare moments of peace, where his segments were busy or asleep, the universe somehow found a way to disrupt him. 
Plink. Plink. Plink.
Dottore rose to his feet suddenly, the metal legs of the chair he was sitting on scraping against the ground loudly as he grabbed the report and left his lab, intent on finishing the reading back in his own room. It was getting late anyway, the moon was rising, and it was only a matter of time before his little soulmate made their way to bed and forced their own fatigue onto him.
He made his way down the dark halls quietly--as if on cue, he felt those familiar tugs, three, each with half a second between them. Goodnight, his soulmate was telling him, and he only shook his head, glancing down once before turning his gaze back ahead. 
He would have to figure out how exactly he would integrate the boy from the city into the organization, and get him the resources he needed to actually be able to do something more than siphon off contractors of the Triglav. He didn’t know how though--it would have to be subtle so as to not draw the attention of their enemies until they were in the position to actually challenge them. If they found out that the Fatui were working under their noses to mess with the economy that the Triglav had built, they’d have a lot more issues to deal with than they’d like. 
Unfortunately, Dottore was never good at subtlety. 
If it were up to him, he’d simply remove the issue, just as he nullified extraneous variables whenever they rose to issue during his experiments. With the aristocrats and the Triglav out of the way, the Fatui could do as they pleased, Dottore could do as he pleased without all of the restrictions placed on him by the Jester… but alas, the Tsaritsa did not wish to draw the ire of her people any more than she already had, much to his displeasure.
Would one man be the change they needed to get the upper hand over the Triglav and the aristocrats? Dottore didn’t know and he despised not knowing, he hated uncertainty. He was a methodological man, a calculated one--he set plans in motion and saw them through to the end. He was able to map out all possible conclusions and plan accordingly, but he couldn’t for this, and he didn’t like it. Every time he thought of one possibility, another issue arose, and then another, and then another until the whole thing was spoiled and Dottore had to start from scratch. 
It felt more like a gamble than a thought out plan. Dottore hated gambling.
Was this the best course of action? Was this going to help him in the long run? What were the chances it even succeeded? 
Low, he determined. There was a good chance that even if the young man from the village was able to make something out of the resources he was given, he would still be forced to fall on his own blade if the situation took a turn for the worse with the other two parties. He didn’t particularly care for the fate of the man, but he had a feeling that if it got out that Dottore was the one behind the whole operation, his already depleted funding would turn to dust between his fingers.
Then you can’t let it get out, Dottore decided, stepping into his room--dark and cold with the candles and fireplace snuffed--which meant he would have to take out the man on his own before the Triglav and aristocrats could go about interrogating him… He would have to be ahead of the flow of information, and he had never been one to insert himself into webs of spiders and nests of snakes.
But, that’s assuming the worst case scenario, Dottore mused. Should all go well, the elites of the Triglav will be hung, and the aristocrats will finally be displaced from their position at the top. Dottore will have significantly increased funding, and they might very well finally have their Ninth or Eleventh seat filled again. 
As he reached the desk at the far corner of his room, Dottore’s chest felt heavy in a way that he had never felt before. Dottore exhaled carefully, placing down the report and taking a seat as he tried to figure out what was causing the strange feeling. Not his segments, he was confident that he had been able to seal off their emotions from his, and it certainly wasn’t his own emotions making him feel this way. 
And if that’s the case… 
He sighed, gaze drawing down to his thumb, then it must be you. 
As soon as he redirected his attention to where the thread was tied neatly around his finger, he felt the soft little tugs. Slow, uneven, he could practically see the pout spread across his soulmate’s unveiled face. It had been quite some time since the daily goodnight tugs, and from what he’d been able to tell over the past five years, his soulmate would always fall asleep soon after the goodnight.
What is the matter? he mused to himself, biting back another heavy sigh as he stared at the thread as if it would give him a verbal response. He realized, distantly, that he was wasting far too much time on this—he needed to finish figuring out first, what Theta had been trying to write and then, what it even meant—but he found his attention anchored on the thin thread, on the soft, slow tugs.
The sinking feeling in his chest was becoming even more intense, and it was sadness, yes, but there was something else. Not for the first time, Dottore damned himself for his inability to properly understand and process emotion.
It was cold, empty, but somehow oppressive and shadowy all at the same time. A part of him wondered if a child should even be feeling this way, but then he thought back to his own childhood—to the Kappa and Iota and Gamma segments—and something inside him twisted, dark and ugly as he considered what that might mean for his soulmate.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the rush of anger. He didn’t like the surge of protectiveness, the urge to shield someone he didn’t even know from the cruelty of the world as he did for his younger segments. He didn’t like that he couldn’t control it. He didn’t like that he couldn’t ignore it. He didn’t like it.
A stranger, the rational part of him hissed. They are a stranger, control yourself.
A stranger that is meant for you, a dangerous, dangerous part of him argued, voice smooth and alluring, a siren that could reel in even a sailor of the strongest willpower. Your fated.
Fated by the same gods who have cursed you a thousand times before, the harsher voice snapped back, grating in his mind, tearing through his head like grinding gears. This is another one of their cruel tricks, and you are playing right into their hands.
Dottore could feel his head aching and that void-like feeling was only getting worse. His chest felt like a gaping hole, like the heart of the abyss, and he felt like a puppet, whose strings were subject to the whims and emotions of a ten year old. 
Why do you feel like this? Dottore wanted to demand, let me fix it so I can return to my work in peace.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but notice the way the tugs on the thread were becoming slower, less insistent… as if the person on the other side was giving up hope.
Is that what you want? he thought to himself, incredulity fogging his mind as he put together why his soulmate was feeling these emotions. His finger lifted on instinct, ready to test his hypothesis as he gave a small tug on the shared thread.
The change was instantaneous—sharp and sudden enough that Dottore felt whiplash as his heart leapt from his chest, mind doused in a sort of euphoria that he only ever felt when he made a breakthrough in his research.
Dottore shook his head, forcing himself not to roll his eyes when he realized that the wave of depression stemmed not from a situation happening in their life, but instead from a lack of attention.
He was annoyed at the disruption to his research, but with that ugly feeling gone—the coldness replaced by a very unfamiliar sense of warmth and a light, bubbly feeling in his chest, a childish sort of joy that he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before—he could finally breathe again, the air felt fresh in his lungs and his mind felt clear. He was able to refocus on the report in front of him with an ease that he hadn’t had before.
Unfamiliar, he repeated to himself, red eyes drifting down to the thread one last time before he took advantage of the new concentration, but he wasn’t sure if it were entirely unwelcome.
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reblogs appreciated!
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angelsanarchy · 7 months
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Requested by kappasbbgirl : i totally get it! he deserved a whole episode or honestly a whole movie! i would love desperately one where y/n and him are inseparable everybody knows they belong to each other period point blank….but someone else gets added to the cult “family” , kappa gets attached, and y/n starts feeling jealous abandoned etc and there’s chaos and it’s heart-wrenching ugh i need it 💔
All it took was 3 months with a tiny blonde ditz for him to shift his gaze. They went from worshiping each other every single day to barely seeing one another at dinner. Y/n watched her whisper in his ear as she sat draped across his lap across the bonfire, his hands sliding up and down her thighs and fiddling with the string of her top. Y/n sat sipping a beer, wishing that her glare could pierce his flesh with the hurt he had caused her.
She was his world and he was hers. They were the ones who started this movement against anti-humans. They had killed for one another, they had starved and been brutalized by the justice system all for her to be placed on the outside of his affections for some young idiot who hasn't gone a day in her life to sacrifice anything about her skin care, let alone the cause.
She pretended to be this little lamb who needed Kappa to teach her how to do basic things, it was pathetic.
"Y/n, you look stressed. Would you like me to help you with that?" Epsilon spoke from behind Y/n as he massaged her shoulders. The new contact felt wonderful and pulled a moan from her lips that seemed to drawn Kappa's eyes upward.
"You wanna take your hands off my property Eps..." Kappa said with a laugh. Y/n closed her eyes and reached back to hold Epsilon's hands in place.
"I'm no one's property. Please continue." Y/n stroked his forearm, not paying attention to Kappa's body shifting beneath his new toy.
"Y/n...don't make a scene in front of our new family members." He cleared his throat and Y/n opened her eyes to see the young girl with her hand buried in his hair.
"I see no new family members. The family I have has fought this fight, killed for our cause, and bled for it. What you're referring to on your lap there is a plaything...fresh meat." Y/n could see the girl start to tense.
"You're being rude-" Kappa started to grit his teeth and Y/n rolled her eyes.
"Then let me excuse myself before I hurt anyone's feelings. I have something much more interesting I could be doing with my mouth instead." Y/n got up from her seat and Kappa watched her run her hand down Episoln's arm before taking his hand and pulling him behind her. They had barely made it into the trailer before the door swung open and Kappa yanked Epsilon out. Y/n let out a sigh knowing that she had gotten Epsilon in trouble for no reason but before she could walk out and defend him, Kappa came bursting through the door, slamming it shut behind him and backing her into the bedroom until she fumbled backward onto the bed.
"Are you trying to make me kill Epsilon? Is that what you want? Because I will and you will have no one to blame but yourself and your desire to piss me off." Kappa seethed.
"Oh fuck you Kappa! You don't own me and I'm not going to wait around while you fuck the shiny new virgins into the family. I have just as much right to fuck who I want, when I want." Y/n pushed up from the bed and stood in front of him. He walked towards her silently.
"Is that so?" He kept his tone tight as he stared at her.
"Don't stand here and waste my time. Fuck that little toy of yours while you can because she isn't staying long." Y/n demanded.
"Yeah? Why's that?" Kappa asked amused.
"Because if anyone owns someone here, it's me. You think you can fuck me raw and hard, cum in my body and wake up one day to do that with someone else? I don't think so." Y/n shoved him hard before slapping him across the face, grabbing his chin roughly.
"This mouth belongs to me." She growled, taking her free hand and cupping his already hard cock in her hands.
"This cock belongs to me." She moved her hand from his chin and slapped her hand on the skin of his chest that was visible through his shirt.
"This heart is mine. The only way out is for me to consume it." She felt the pain in her teeth as she gritted out her words and Kappa's breathing picked up. When she released him he licked his lips, scanning the trailer for a moment before picking up the dagger that sat on the counter. Y/n wasn't afraid of him even as he walked towards her with the dagger before yanking the rest of his shirt open and holding it out to her.
"I suggest you mark what's yours then." Kappa's hand was unwavering as he held the blade towards her. She took it and shoved him down on the bed, straddling his hips and staying perched atop his cock which was crying to be released from its cage. She kept her eyes locked to his as she carved her name across his skin, letting his warm blood run down his nipple and his moans escape his lips.
When she was done, she wiped the blood from the wound and stuck the fingers into her mouth.
"I am yours...for eternity." Kappa whined leaning up to capture Y/n's mouth with his own.
"Then fuck me like I know you can." Y/n bit his lower lip and Kappa smirked. The clothes they were wearing was practically shredded before used the blood from his chest to stroke his cock. Y/n swatted his hand away from it and lifted her legs to throw over his shoulders. He entered her roughly and his thrusts were sloppy.
"Is that all you have for your soulmate? Fuck me harder Kappa. I am not glass, I will not break." Kappa took her words as a challenge, flipping her over and gripping her hips with a brutal pressure that he knew would bruise. He fucked into her deeply, pulling moans from her mouth as he slapped the flesh of her ass bouncing off of his thighs.
"Oh fuck! FUCK! Don't stop." Y/n pleaded.
"Who do you belong to Y/n? I need to hear it." Kappa asked as he pounded into her pussy, yanking the hair on the back of her head until her throat was exposed.
"Mmm I'm yours Kappa. I'm only yours baby." Y/n cried feeling him pumping his cum into her while he dug his fingernails into her hips. Even when he was spent, he continued to fuck into her, moving his hand to her clit.
"Cum for me my love. Cum on my cock." Kappa ran his hand down Y/n's back and she moved her ass back on him until she felt herself gripping him tightly. He slowed his thrusts and kept himself safely inside of her as he lay down behind her, holding her tightly to his chest.
"You were never second. You are and will always be my queen, my heart and soul." Kappa breathed into her hair as he held her.
"The day you decide otherwise will be your last, Kappa. I will kill you myself if you ever try and find a new queen." Y/n turned her head to look at him and he touched her chin.
"I will put the dagger in your hand myself." He promised his life to her.
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blackdollette · 6 months
Note
Can you make a kappa or euro fic where they absolutely hate each other and it’s like brothers best friend and it’s just hate sex PLEASE
"you're my cult leader." | kappa
ultraviolence. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @livingdead-materialgirl @vanlisbon @oliviah-25 @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @imoonkiss @lankysimp @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526
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female!reader x kappa
word count: 1.2k
contents: kappa & reader are exes, unprotected p in v, a little degardation, a little praise, manipulation, angst if you squint
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typical gang activity became complicated when your cult leader just so happened to be your ex-boyfriend. you used to be his eye candy, his dumb little baby, and his most prized possession. but he had decided that it’d be best for him to keep his eyes on what really mattered, and it wasn’t you.
that’s where the ups and downs of being in his cult came in. you couldn’t escape his occasional glances, the sound of his hypnotic voice that had whispered such dirty things to you, and the way he acted like a complete manwhore, dressing in rags that specifically gave you a view of the toned biceps that used to wrap around your neck.
but you could fuck around with whoever you wanted a could be one hundred percent certain that it would circle back to him, making him green with envy even though he could never admit that.
he acted nonchalant and bitter, which hurt you even more considering the way he used to open up to you about every little thing. you hated him, but you hated the thought of being the one to crawl back even more. so you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gotten in the position you were in now, face shoved into a drool-stained pillow with kappa’s gigantic rod drilling into your cock deprived hole.
you could tell he was livid by the way he thrust into you, bruising your gooey walls as he landed a harsh slap onto your ass.
“good to know i can make turn my baby back into a dumb little bitch with my cock.” he growled as he shoved his fingers down your throat, making you gag around him. his voice dripped with suppressed bitterness and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for riling him up to this point.
you’d been at a normal heist, dressed like a slut from a bad porn. that would’ve been more than enough to catch his eye, but you decided to take an extra step and walk into the room with epsilon’s hand on your ass as an act of rebellion. as predicted, your plan had worked. after weeks of not interacting with you, he grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you into an empty bedroom, slamming the door shut and pinning you to it by the neck.
he could’ve killed you right there, but he picked you up bridal-style and tossed you onto the bed, kissing you roughly as he tore off the pieces of your minimal clothing one by one, whipping out his rock-hard pistol and wasting no time as he shoved it into you.
he had been tossing you around like a worthless sack, using your body as a way to release months of tension. you were sitting on his lap with his cock deep in your stomach as bubbles of your spit cascaded down his fingers, all the way down to where his other hand gripped your breast until it went pale.
“how many other people have you fucked, huh?” he flipped you around, shoving you into the mattress as you sobbed and whimpered out inaudible words as a response. he cock throbbed inside of you. yes, he was angry, but the sight of you in such a submissive and vulnerable state made his heart flutter. 
“i’ve been goin’ fucking crazy, y’know? seeing you get hotter every day while i’ve been falling apart without you.” he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, spitting on them and moving his hand under you to rub sloppy circles onto your pulsating clit.
you were a mess underneath him, nails clawing at the mattress and your back arching as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you. his hips slapped against the sore skin of your ass as his groans echoed through the room. “you’ll never find anyone more perfect for you than me, you hear? no one will ever be able to make you feel the way i do, to touch you the way i do, to make your body feel the way i make it…”
you screamed into the pillow as his words rang through your mind. you hated that he was right. that he had you completely at his mercy like a doll, but he had also revealed that you had been on his mind ever since.
his manipulation tactics always had you wrapped around his finger, and you thought that you’d finally broken free. how foolish you had been. he pulled himself out of you, making your hole feel the loss of his cock. he flipped you around again, but with a little more care. he met your large, teary eyes with a look that could be mistaken for remorse or pity with just a sprinkle of hatred on top.
he grabbed your jaw roughly, bringing your face less than an inch away from his as he spoke darkly to you. “spit it out, bitch. you already find someone better than me? have you found someone else that’ll put up with a goddamn whore like you?” the tip of his cock teased the entrance of your hole, making you shudder.
you spoke, your voice thick with tears. “y-yeah, maybe i have. maybe i’ve found someone that’ll treat me better than you ever have!” his eyes clouded with hostility and he shoved you back onto the bed, landing himself on top of you and shoving his fist into your tight pussy, making you scream out.
he fucked you vigorously with his fist, his hot breath hitting your ear. “listen to me and listen good, whore. you can hate me as much as you want for whatever fucking reason, but no one will ever love you as much as i do.” his words sunk in as you felt a familiar sensation bubbling through your core, legs shaking as you felt yourself reaching your climax.
his rhythm was torturous. you wanted to beg him to stop but secretly hoped that he never would. with a few more pumps, you found yourself crying out, moaning slurred words as you came all over his arm. tears ran down your face as you tossed your head back, nails digging into the toned flesh of his back, surely drawing blood.
all your senses disabled temporarily as you felt your body emptying itself out onto him, your entire figure trembling from the stimulation. he pulled his fist out of you, giving your puffy clit a slap as he grabbed your jaw once again, this time to kiss you.
it was a needy, desperate one. one that told you how much he really missed you more than his words ever could. his thumbs gently wiped the tears off your cheeks as cum poured down your thighs. 
he was never the type to perform any aftercare, but he left the room and gave you some time to rest, collect your thoughts as he had said. you lay there in a puddle of your own fluids, mind racing with thoughts of what you had just done.
nothing had changed and you knew that the resentment between you two was there to stay. but he was right about one thing: no matter what had happened between you, he still loved you more than anything.
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author's note: sorry for losing sight of the plot yall
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husbandhoshi · 2 years
Note
Heheh mingyu + cute + 9:27am
[9:27]
on god, i will kill whoever shares a wall with mingyu, is your first thought of the day.
you lay there, head positively spinning, as you hear the perpetrator snooze their train horn alarm for the fifth time that morning.
your second is, fuck, i actually went home with him, and your third falls somewhere along the lines of having the worst hangover headache of your twenty something years of being alive.
the bed next to you is cold (mingyu probably has class), you’re in a big white shirt (must have put it on after getting your back blown out), and curiously, mingyu has a studio ghibli poster you never noticed on the back of his door (good, although it would have ruined the mood if you knew totoro had witnessed all of that).
the unsavory details from last night come flooding back to you like the final chapter of an agatha christie novel, except you still don’t really get it.
kim mingyu, resident heartthrob of sigma alpha epsilon and the guy you just happened to tutor on tuesdays, not only invited you to a party, but somehow landed you in his bed, wearing his clothes.
on an average day, sleeping with a guy five million miles out of your league would be the college fairytale of your dreams, except you have class in two hours and the room is so bright, so flooded with sunlight, you think you will actually die if you open your eyes any wider.
you kind of wished things would be different.
(let’s get out of here, mingyu had said last night, and a part of you already knew what was going to happen. but instead, he walked you to in-n-out, draped in his big letterman jacket, and you spent the next two hours talking about everything and nothing over an order of animal fries.
and you remember him hovering over you, his silver necklace tantalizing and cold against the skin of your neck, asking in that awfully low voice of his—are you sure? we don’t have to.
and you pleaded and begged yes, yes, want it, want you, because you actually had the most embarrassing crush on him and somehow you fell in love all over again watching him get thousand island sauce on that nice button up of his.)
but in true fratboy fashion, he’s gone, and you’re just another girl left to dry in the wretched sigma house.
it’s then that you hear a knock on the door, at first frantic, then softly.
“mingyu’s not here,” you holler, although it’s more of a croak than a shout. “i don’t even live here.”
“um. this is mingyu,” comes the muffled voice. “sorry, i—” you can just picture him rubbing the back of his neck, piecing his next sentence together. “i thought you might want some breakfast?”
hearing the same voice that said basically unrepeatable things last night now shy as ever, asking permission to enter his own room, gives you the worst whiplash of your life. on top of that, you’re embarrassingly relieved that he did not, in fact, abandon you.
“yeah, uh, sure. thanks.” you scramble for your phone to make sure you look ok, but promptly realize the fool is charging it on his desk. so instead you just lay there, trying to look as alive as possible.
the door opens slowly, and through your half-lidded, squinty eyes, you make out what possibly could be the most beautiful man alive, looking like a dream in low hanging sweats and a muscle tee. and he has a plate of pancakes and orange juice.
“sorry, i look terrible.” the words just fly out of your mouth.
“no you don’t,” he chides in that awfully attractive pout of his. “was gonna say you look great. especially after everything that happened last night.”
he grins, all teeth and pretty pink lips, as you fight to not pull the covers over your head and just perish on the spot. “please shut up. i thought you abandoned me, you know. and i decided i was gonna stop tutoring you and let you fail organic chemistry.”
mingyu laughs and sits beside you on the bed, warm gaze falling on you. “i’m sorry. please don’t do that. i need you,” he jokes, and you both laugh again, feeling that post hookup awkwardness permeate the space.
he moves to brush the hair out of your forehead, but stops himself. he’s not sure what to do (he likes you, a lot actually, and that itself is enough to zap all rational thought from his brain).
“are you feeling ok?” mingyu asks instead. “i brought a warm towel and an advil. you know, uh, if you had a headache or something.”
it’s cute seeing him trip over his words, and you nod, giving him the ok to fuss over you.
“can you sit up? do you want me to feed you?” the questions come a mile a minute, but you’re never one to complain over a real life disney prince fawning over you.
so you let him, god, for some reason him propping you up against his pillows is a thousand times hotter than whatever he did last night, and you make the executive decision to waste your entire friday morning to spend it with him.
you’re still not sure what you are—friends, acquaintances, or something in the middle.
you wouldn’t dare think lovers though, except when he blows on a forkful of pancake to cool it down, you briefly consider marriage.
(before you go, he kisses your forehead. “catch a movie with me tomorrow?” he asks, taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and sliding them onto your face—he knows you lied when you said your head wasn’t hurting anymore.
“is this because you wanna—”
“it’s because i want to take you on a date. a real one. can i?”
he smiles at you again, radiant and honest, and you find you don’t doubt him for a second.)
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tunastime · 4 months
Text
Recovery One
Washington undergoes experimental surgery: installing Project Freelancer's AI program into his head. Epsilon tries to break his way out of Washington's skull. Washington deals with the symptoms of a thing that wants nothing but to escape.
aeuhmmm so I got a little silly with the freelancers again and decided to write something about what wash and epsilon might've gone through before it was extracted for obvious reasons. this is chapter one! tagged this pretty heavily on ao3 but tw for blood, injury, medical procedures, emotional hurt/comfort, and trauma. (3238 words) (read it on ao3!)
The walls of the Mother of Invention seem colder tonight. It's like Washington's body is a heat source, and the hard beds of Recovery One are the sink, drawing every last shred of warmth from where his flimsy surgical clothes meet cloth. He can feel the handful of sensors stuck to his skin, along the inside of his left wrist, keeping careful track of his heart rate, his oxygen, and his blood pressure. The base of his skull is still aching, a thrum that settles equally in the channel of his spine. 
Cold, shivering, curled pathetically on that hard mattress, Washington is trying to sleep. He's twitchy, stomach twisted into rough knots, and every time he shuts his eyes the spinning of the world only gets worse. The gravity on Invention is generated by a massive column of constantly pulsing electricity, but if Wash were to step foot onto the ground below him, he's certain he'd float upward far too quickly. Or fall face down. One of those would definitely happen. 
He tries to breathe through the wave of nausea that passes. It's all a byproduct of the chip in his skull. The voice is quiet for now. They're fighting to use the same body—his body, with all its human joints and mostly untorn muscles and surficial bruises and just a handful of really broken bones. It hurts like something electric shudders just under the first few layers of skin, or like someone took his nerves and ran them through the shredder. He kind of feels like the paper in the shredder, or the shredder itself. Or maybe the paper when it’s half in the shredder and half out. When's the last time he held a piece of paper? Did people still shred paper? He breathes again.
He's under a 24 hour watch. Twenty four hours of this. He screws his eyes shut and the ship around him swings back and forth on a pendulum. He digs his fingers into the muscles of his shoulders and tries to breathe through it. The stars start to fade after a moment of breaths through his teeth. North used to joke about how anxious Theta made him—that swing of artificial fear through his nervous system, how he had to breathe through the waves of adrenaline to keep himself level. Little spikes happened now and then, making a purely perfunctory condition ten times worse, but North seemed to nurture himself until the feeling gave way to something productive. 
Wash isn’t having that much luck. 
It wasn’t something easy to pin down. He wasn’t just anxious, or sad, or angry. He wasn’t happy, or disgusted, or a middle combination of the emotions he knew how to regulate. It felt like a swirl of everything, of nothing, completely out of his grasp. The AI—Epsilon—was having a field day as he tore open the synapses of Wash’s standing memory and tried to make room. And Wash was fighting back. The lines had already begun to blur and Wash could only assume the after-effects were due to that unalignment, that unmeshed surface. Epsilon needed a blank slate. It was the only thing Wash wasn’t able to offer.
When he breathes again, his stomach turns violently. He lurches, hands grasping at the cool bedside, swallowing hard. His hands shake as they hold onto the smooth surface below him. Okay, fine—eyes open. Another breath out of his teeth. He can taste sour in the back of his mouth. 
The world is foggy when he opens his eyes again. He drags himself up slowly as his head continues to spin like a wobbly top. The top sheet comes with him, wrapped over his shoulders as he drags himself into the bathroom. There’s a moment where he wobbles, stepping forward for the first time, socked foot firmly set on the floor. He can’t even think—the quiet that was there seems to settle into a background of whispers he can’t make out. He speaks out loud to himself, trying to get a word into his crowded brain, or to force himself to step forward.
“I need a drink, that’s it,” he says, in a voice he’s not sure is entirely his own anymore. He swallows again. Anything to get the taste out of his mouth. He can hear that echo of a voice bounce around inside his skull as he drags himself forward uneasily.
“Please,” Wash manages to garble out. “I can’t… I can’t help you.”
He manages to stumble to the doorway of the bathroom, sheet left crumpled at his feet as he braces hard on the edge of the sink. His breaths come fast and hard as he stands upright, fingers white-knuckled where they grip the countertop. The world tilts, and he feels his body slump into the wall  beside him. The white light of the room does little to obscure the sheen of sweat on his face, or the way his hands shake as he tries to turn on the faucet. He cups his hands. The water is cold on his flushed and feverish skin. He presses his cool, damp palms to his eyes and drinks from his hands. Washington breathes. The world seems to settle as the cool air hits his skin. He’s not seeing double for now.
The moment of reprieve is short-lived. His stomach folds over itself, rolling a cold, then hot wave across his skin as he doubles over the sink. The voice inside his head is slamming against the walls of his skull like it could break through. He can’t understand the words, how they crush and morph together against the new spike of pain behind his eyes, but it sounds like screaming. Something scared, and horrified, and desperate, pleading. But maybe that’s him. 
He gags. The rest of his dinner comes up in the sink. He coughs, trying to swallow it back down, nose stinging. He heaves in a breath. His eyes water and he doesn’t stop them from dripping off his cheeks. 
Breathing heavily, Wash drags his hand over his face. It comes back damp, still shaking. He can taste iron in the back of his throat. When he looks in the mirror, eyes dark and sunken, it’s like he can barely recognize the face looking back at him. Wash shuts his eyes tightly. He holds to the edges of the sink, breath shuddering and whistling as he inhales. More tears fall; fear, grief, nothing actually his. 
“I can’t—” he says, he sobs, as the voice—Epsilon—pleads. Pleads for him to make space, to be something other than he is, to let him out, to let him go. “They won’t—” 
Across the room, there’s a quiet knock on the door. He jolts, eyes darting to the closed door. Another knock. Wash brings up a shaky hand, wiping the tears from his chin. He rinses off what he can from his hands, pulling tissues to dry his face. He can still taste the film of bile in the back of his mouth. Washington steadies, blinking his eyes fully open.
“Wash, it’s North. Came to check up on you.”
North. Oh. Wash shudders as he laughs, just a little. Sure. He leans back from the sink, lowering himself gingerly to the floor to grab the sheet. As he steps carefully to the bedside, he replaces the sheet and begs that he finds his sense of composure before he opens the door.
“Coming,” he manages, voice wavering.
He makes his way around the bed, hand braced slightly on the wall as he steps over. The door slides open as he stand in the doorway.
North is standing in his pajamas, a concerned sort of pull to his face. He smiles a little when Wash opens the door, but Wash is too busy staring at his own socked feet and North’s boots to really notice. North’s voice is soft when he speaks. It reminds Wash of the one time South blacked out during dive training and North wouldn’t leave her side.
“How’s it goin’, buddy?” North says gently.
“Best day of my life,” Wash jokes, laughing weakly. North huffs out a laugh, folding his arms.
“I know they’ve got you under watch, so you’re in good hands,” he says, inclining his head. “How’s the headache? The tingling? Anything blurry?”
Wash takes a second, sighing and shutting his eyes. It’s funny that North would say that, isn’t it. He gets the shuddering feeling of something not his own as he stands propped against the wall, trying to hold himself up.
“Still painful,” he manages, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Everything’s blurry.”
“Yeesh—” North says, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “You’re taking it slow though, right?”
Wash nods.
“I’m trying to,” he says. “Best I can given the circumstances. It’s hard to sleep with all the…” He waves his hand around listlessly around his head, as if trying to get his point across. The voice. The emotions. Whatever chugged through his memory and forced itself in. It was an almost-physical, painful sensation. North nods knowingly. Wash doubts that he knows much at all.
“I’m sorry, Wash,” North says, his concern sincere. “It’ll get better with time, though. You’ll have a few days to settle in before the Director sends you out on missions, I’m sure.”
Wash nods again. It’s the most he can really do. His head feels like it’s full of soup gone sour.
“Right,” he says slowly, the words thickening in his mouth to a paste. “Right, I hope so.”
North smiles. He can tell, all of a sudden, as he does every time North summons Theta to the front, how right he was for his AI, how much the nurturing nature he so eagerly kept hidden blossomed when it was needed, when it would be properly appreciated. That smile alone settles a warm swirl through Wash’s chest, trickling into his lungs and his heart. The same happens when North reaches out, cupping his shoulder with his broad palm and squeezing, just enough to feel the heat of his hand. He jostles Washington slightly as he does. Wash manages a smile, huffing out through his nose, his eyes falling shut again as he lets the comfort of touch sink in for just a moment. As North draws his hand away and Wash straightens, North says:
“Alright, I’ll let you get back to resting, okay Wash?”
Wash hums in response.
“You let me know if you need anything. We’re all just down a floor—I’m sure York and I wouldn’t mind stopping in.”
Wash sighs, finally pushing himself to a stand, away from the wall. He doesn’t say anything, but a creeping realization settles in the pit of his stomach, right next to the warmth that used to pervade his joints. He swallows. Instead of feeling nothing, he feels burning in the back of his throat, up his nose. He nods regardless.
“Good deal, buddy,” North smiles. He nods, just a curt bob of his head. “Alright, I’ll be seein’ you.”
“I—” And all of a sudden, the feelings pervading, the ones not his own, rear their head. He swallows roughly, trying to make out a sentence. He mumbles out his next words, vision blurring. “Please don’t—”
“Wash?” North asks, startling, the twinge of concern now laid thick in his words. Wash startles too, blinking hard. What was happening to him? He shakes his head, turning it from North for a moment as he wills himself back to the present. He isn’t leaving, North lives here. He won’t just abandon him. But he can still feel the weight of the word goodbye. The weight of see you soon.
“Sorry, I’m just…” Wash shudders out a sigh, trying to find a viable excuse. “I’m on edge I guess. Don’t worry about it.”
North’s eyes widen.
“Wash, your nose—” he says, moving forward to help him. Wash takes an instinctive step back, cupping his hand around his chin. He can feel the warm dribble of blood now, the taste of iron in the back of his mouth. He shakes his head as he keeps North at arm’s length, turning to fetch tissue from the bathroom. 
“It’s fine,” he croaks out, fumbling for the sink. He runs his hands under the warming water, tipping his head forward. Blood drips into the sink but his eyes are screwed shut too tight to see it. Wash can barely hear North’s voice above the running water, but he hears the door to his room slide shut. Reaching for the tissue, Wash swabs gingerly at his nose, still tasting the metallic tang on his teeth. As he turns back to the room, North is hovering at his bedside, concern written across his whole face. Wash watches his jaw work, his upturned eyes wide and searching Wash’s expression. Washington shakes his head.
“It’s fine,” he says again, barely a sound at all. He jams part of the tissue up his nose, swallowing back whatever was left in his mouth. North gestures to the glass of water still half empty at Wash’s bedside. Wash sits, his legs giving out beneath him, and he drinks.
North takes his time getting to the space in front of him, circling the end of the Recovery Bay bed like Wash were an injured animal about to bite him. Luckily for him, Washington feels far too heavy to move any of his limbs, as if all the energy had been siphoned out of him and into the air, leaving it charged and staticky. He couldn’t find the strength to bite even if he tried. He smooths his hand over the pant leg of his hospital clothes in calculated movements. The scratchy fabric is so thin he can almost feel his body heat through it. Or lack thereof. 
“I don’t know how fine it is, Wash,” North says, folding his arms. He leans against the arm of the chair across from Wash, not exactly sitting, but not really standing. “I certainly wasn’t getting nosebleeds like that with Theta.”
“Well,” Wash manages hoarsely, shutting his eyes tight again. “With all due respect, Theta was a little more… stable.”
“Epsilon’s unstable?” North asks. Wash flinches. He can feel that paper shredder sensation again as he shrinks back. “Wash?”
“It’s okay,” Wash mumbles. “It’s just—side effects.”
North’s face grows taut and stern. When Wash flicks his eyes up to read his face he’s met with a strong set to North’s jaw. North shakes his head, sounding unconvinced.
“It’s not supposed to be this bad,” he says. He drums his fingers against his arm.
Wash sighs. The sound is curt when it leaves his chest. It’s all the energy he has left to expel before it dissolves into an empty hollow in his chest.
“It’s nothing,” he says.
“Washington,” North starts, leaning off the chair and moving toward the bedside. Wash curls further over his lap, as if trying to move away from whatever suggestion North could have for him. It’s not something so easy to fix. It’s just. It’s just—
“It—” Wash takes a long, laborious breath in. He feels something very small break inside his chest as he breathes out, his exhale shuddering. His vision goes blurry in the few feet in front of him, from knees to floor, that he can see. “I don’t—”
“Hey…” North soothes. He lowers himself to Washington’s side, hand coming to cup his shoulder. Wash leans, half intentional and half not, into the touch as North squeezes his arm.
“The memories aren’t mine,” Washington babbles, unintelligible to anyone but himself. “I don’t want them in my head.”
“I know,” North placates regardless. And for a moment, it feels like he means it. It doesn’t really matter if he does or doesn’t. The arms that come around him are strong and warm and solid and friendly as Wash makes contact with the hollow of North’s shoulder. He doesn’t mean to collide and fall so easily, but the arms around him hold on, and hold firm, and he begins to think through the haze of memories not his own that he really didn’t have much say in the matter. North draws him in regardless and Wash sinks himself into his side. He cries and no sound escapes him. He squeezes his eyes shut. Faintly, he can hear North whistle out a breath, through the shff of fabric as he slowly and gently drags his palm over the line of Washington’s shoulders.
“I just need it to stop,” Washington chokes out. It doesn’t matter who’s speaking. The relentless tug of war continues on in his head, even if he can’t hear it, even if it won’t really surface. It doesn’t matter who wants their memories back. It just matters that his body feels like he’s been electrically shocked: drained, shaken out, and hurting.
“Breathe, Wash,” North soothes. Washington does as he’s told, the air scratchy in his throat. He shudders out the breath, trying to keep each stable and even. North doesn’t say anything for a while. He lets Wash breathe and lean into his shoulder, and the silence gives Wash a moment of reprieve as his mind goes quiet. He just focuses on breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth. North leans just slightly back into him, cheek resting on the top of his head. 
Wash blinks his eyes open. He stares into the middle distance with his vision still blurry, and North’s weight against him keeps him, rather than whatever threatens to invade his memory further, grounded. Wash makes an unintelligible sound as North sighs.
“Great, Wash,” North says lightly. “Doing great.”
“Well, I feel like shit,” Wash manages, almost amused.
North hums softly in agreement, but doesn’t really respond. His hold around Wash grows a little tighter, though, firmer around his shoulder and forearm as Wash sags. His eyes shut again as his breaths remain even, face pressed to North’s shoulder. He’s a bit too large for them to properly fit together, even as they sit side by side on the bed. He lets go of a long breath as the rush of previous anxiety, the new bubbling fear, and exhaustion slip out all at once. In their wake is a pit of nothing, absent of emotion, in his stomach. Tired lingers instead in the same space, around that nothing. He can feel his body grow heavy against North and he has half the mind to mention how tired he actually is. But North hasn’t moved, regardless if he’s noticed or not, and the hand on his shoulderblade, and the head resting against his, remains. The world goes blissfully soft for a moment, his body heavy and his mind quiet. It’s only when he blinks his eyes open again that he realizes he’s lying down. North is gone.
He squints at the room around him, lifting his head slightly. He’s on his back with the sheet draped over him, comfortable against the pillows. For once, his body and head don’t ache, and whatever voice that might be screaming is silent. When he lifts himself further, the room spins, tipping violently this way and that. Wash lets himself back down. For now, he decides that the comfort he has is better taken than lost, and he shuts his eyes.
The world goes muted and grey around him. His body sinks to the mattress.
He has a feeling he won’t wake again for some time.
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slyvester101 · 3 months
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I know this is another ask so soon lol but how do you think Wash's and Tucker's relationship would go if Tucker was in season 6? Tbh I already have my own interpretation that they are instant enemies, Wash's worst nightmare and it took the personification of a aqua sim trooper. Their stubbornness knows no bounds and it's worst when they met before having their character development. Someone has to hold Tucker back before he gets murdered by a trigger happy freelancer for not shutting tfu.
Ask away my fine fellow
I think if Tucker was with the reds and blues during season 6, there’d be a lot more roasting of Agent Washington. Church and Tucker bounce off of each other, sending rib after rib to anyone in the area, including the other. Which means that Wash has to deal with twice the amount of insults and bickering. It is easier to manage Caboose since Tucker was the one to keep an eye on him when Church left Blood Gulch first (because Church always leaves first) and he is much better at keeping Caboose on track than Church. 
While I do think Agent Washington dislikes Tucker when they meet, he also recognizes how smart and resourceful the guy is and sees the potential he has and how much he's holding back in order to be underestimated. It makes him wary. Additionally, I think Tucker’s flirting and care-free attitude reminds him a lot of York, so he has to deal with that while also trying to command a guy who reminds him of his dead friend. He tries to stay away from Tucker as much as possible. (It does not work, they fight all the damn time)
(They both consider murder many times)
Tucker is definitely more wary of Agent Washington as well and questions everything he commands and undermines his authority all the time. So basically Tucker being Tucker. Tucker would also be more grumpy about being on this mission since it took him away from his son (if Tucker was to join without completely breaking the timeline, I think it would make more sense for him to go to the desert temple after the whole epsilon and Meta showdown). He would also hold a personal vendetta against Wash since he would be there when Church dies and make that link to his best friend dying to Agent Washington, which means when they meet again, Tucker is down and ready to rip this guy apart.
All this would make Wash’s eventual addition to the team a bit more strained and awkward. Tucker is even more petty and even downright mean to Wash because of everything that happened and takes much longer to warm up to him. Wash takes it with the same amount of grace as always, trying to be diplomatic about it and be a good teammate (I don’t think Tucker would be as willing to call Wash “team leader” after everything that happened, so they decide to be something like co-leaders since Tucker is the highest-ranking soldier and a pretty good fighter in his own right and Wash has the most experience). 
They’re basically begrudging parents to Caboose by the time Carolina shows up. They bicker like an old married couple worthy of competing against Grimmons. (Tucker shows he’s finally warming up to him when he stops calling Wash various names like “agent fuckface” “agent friend killer” “agent team wiper” and starts calling him “Wash”)
While they go planet hopping with Carolina, Tucker learns about Wash and his time with freelancer and he realizes how absolutely fucked up he is (he knew he had issues, but holy shit). He’s a bit more willing to work with Wash, and to some extent Carolina, near the end and after their mission to kill the director. (That whole scene where Wash choses to protect Tucker from Carolina, choses blue team over freelancer, is the day Tucker finally accepts Wash as his friend.)
By the time they crash on Chorus, I think Tucker and Wash have really mellowed their relationship and have learned to rely on each other. They’re the dynamic duo, the one-two punch that leaves you reeling, a scary ass pair for anyone they face. Even after Church leaves again, Tucker and Wash don’t have that power dynamic of “anxious ex-specops authority figure” and “angsty asshole who hates following orders” since they’ve spent a lot of time learning how to work together as blue team leaders. Tucker is still angsty and Wash is still paranoid, but it’s more of a partnership than the mentorship we see Wash having with Tucker in the og show.
I think it makes their separation on Chorus even more heartbreaking for the both of them since they’ve gotten so close. They haven’t trusted someone like this in a long time, someone who’s so good at reading them and knowing when to give encouragement but also not afraid to call out your bullshit. It also makes their reunion so fucking awesome because they can finally let down their guard a little and trust someone else to pick up some of the load. 
I don’t know how it would change the course of the rest of the show since I’ve only watched up to season 12, but I think at that point it’s basically the same as it would be in the show.
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junekissed · 2 years
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finals season
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day one of junkissed's svt seasons greetings event
member — tutor!seungcheol x student!reader genre — fluff, mild angst, hurt/comfort ?, college au  word count — 2k synopsis — getting a degree isn't easy. fortunately, your tutor that you maybe have a crush on is here to help. warnings — frat president!cheol, mentions of math (yes this is a warning), mutual crushes but they’re both kinda idiots, friends (?) to lovers, really awkward confession scene oops, there's 2 screenshots at the beginning bc i wanted to! notes — lowercase intended; honestly idk how this happened i promise the rest won’t be angsty like this sjdgkfs it was supposed to be cute but then my brain just kept chugging so. um enjoy !
one reblog = one snowy frat party
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you sigh and stand up off the couch, wrapping your scarf around your neck. as much as you hated doing math, you always seemed to jump at the chance to study with seungcheol. the weather had made you reluctant to leave the comfort of your home, but the promise of coffee (and your unfairly attractive tutor) was more than enough to lure you out of the house for a couple hours.
even though your major had almost nothing to do with math, you’re still required to take so many credits of the subject to meet your requirements.
you shrug on your coat and grab your backpack in the dark, shoving your laptop and charger in with notebooks and folders. turning to take one last look around to make sure you aren’t forgetting anything, you shut the door quietly and lock it.
the lady working the shift at the front desk smiles and waves as you walk through the lobby of your apartment complex. “where are you headed?” she asks, setting down her nail file.
“tutoring,” you say, pulling the strap of your backpack higher up your shoulder.
“ooh, that hot guy that comes through here every thursday?”
you giggle. “yeah.”
“well, good luck, baby,” she grins, giving you a very indiscreet wink. “have fun with you man!”
“no– we’re not together,” you explain, feeling your cheeks start to heat in embarrassment. not that you don’t want to be together. you don’t even know if he’s single or not.
“not yet! you never know!”
“i’ll see you later,” you laugh, walking out the front door with a wave behind you.
seungcheol’s house is on the other end of campus where the fraternity houses are. it’s not a far walk, but with the snow still coming down heavily you decide not to risk showing up at his door looking like a total mess. so instead of walking like you usually do, you wait at the bus stop outside your apartment, rushing to find a place under the overhang with a crowd of other students waiting to get to class.
fifteen minutes later, you step off the bus, trudging through the quickly growing piles of snow on the ground up to the door of cheol’s apartment.
it’s only friday afternoon, but lambda phi epsilon is already gearing up for whatever party they’re hosting this weekend. you can hear faint music playing from one of the houses across the street. you wonder why cheol, the current president of the frat, isn’t over there with them, but you don’t dwell on the thought.
you smooth down your jacket and check your hair in the reflection of your phone screen, then take a deep breath and knock twice.
the door swings open immediately, revealing your tutor dressed in his… pajamas. you almost choke, your eyes falling to his flannel pants and collared pajama shirt, the top buttons undone revealing an expanse of smooth skin. the material looks soft, so soft, and you have to physically restrain yourself from reaching out to touch him.
“hey! come on in, it’s cold out there,” he smiles warmly. you snap back to attention, drawing your gaze back up to his face.
“thanks,” you manage, stepping inside. “you look, um. comfortable.”
“i love the snow,” he explains. “perfect weather to stay inside and get cozy for the weekend.”
you raise your eyebrows. “you’re not going to the party later?”
“no?” he questions. “why, are you going?”
your cheeks flare. “no, i’m– work,” you laugh awkwardly as the entirety of the english language disappears from your brain.
he smiles. “cool. you can stay as long as you want, then, i don’t have plans. we can work until you have to leave.”
“sounds great,” you squeak out.
oh, it’s gonna be a long night.
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but the night isn’t as long as you thought it would be. it actually goes by pretty quickly, once you sit down and start working. as distracting as seungcheol is, you’ve really gotta learn these concepts before your final.
after many tutoring sessions you’d already figured out that cheol is insanely smart, but it never occurred to you before just how smart he is. not only does he understand the material, he understands it enough to explain everything in a way that makes sense to you— something your teachers could never do. everything just seems to click in your brain when he tells you things like why the angle of elevation is below the shape and not above it. hell, he’s even made his own practice problems for you that aren’t in your book, and after hours of teaching you get them all right, all on your own.
“try using this equation,” he says, gently nudging your elbow.
“huh?” you realize you’ve been staring at him and you whip your eyes back down to the workbook in front of you, embarrassed to be focusing on him and not the actual reason you’re here.
what is the reason you’re here? you wonder, your mind wandering. you went to the math department and signed up for a tutor, and a week later you met him in a private corner of the library to get help before your exam. and after a while, you started meeting him at your apartment, because your sessions ran long after the library had closed for the night. and now you’re sitting in his living room, contemplating every life decision you’ve made up until this point and wondering how the hell you ended up studying triangles with him in his pajamas.
he calls your name again, and you turn your head to look at him. but when you make eye contact, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to cry.
“do you wanna stop for now? we’ve been on this for a while, we can switch to something else if you want,” he asks. his eyes are full of concern at the sudden way you’ve stopped responding.
how did you end up falling in love with him?
“i… i think i should go home now,” you choke out. your throat feels like it’s closing up from the effort it takes not to burst into tears in the middle of his house.
“oh,” he says quietly. “are you sure? i have more practice problems for you, here, you can take–”
“why are you so nice to me?” you say abruptly.
he pauses. “i– what?”
“our study sessions go way past the hour set by the university, you make practice problems for me, you invite me to your house in your pajamas. you don’t have to do any of that. you get paid no matter what. why?”
his gaze shifts around the room, from the workbook still lying open on the table to the posters on his wall behind you. “i’m sorry about… this,” he says finally. “we can meet in the library again if you don’t like meeting here. and i would’ve changed, if i knew the pajamas made you uncomfortable.”
“it’s not the pajamas,” you whisper.
“sorry?” he says, not hearing you.
“it’s not the pajamas,” you repeat, louder this time. “it’s you. i… i don’t think i need a tutor anymore,” you say.
your vision begins to blur with tears when you hear him say softly, “okay.”
you grab your things and pack your backpack in record time. cheol holds the door open for you as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder.
“i’ll, uh, talk to the tutoring advisor and tell her you don’t need help anymore,” he says awkwardly as you rush out the door.
“goodbye, cheol,” you say, and turn down the steps to leave.
the sound of the door closing quietly behind you is what finally breaks you. tears stream down your face, burning your skin in contrast to the freezing air.
the snow had stopped while you’d been in his house, slowly turning into slush. you plop down on the sidewalk, not even caring that you’re sitting in a puddle of dirt and ice. not only had you just lost your free homework help, you’ve lost a friend who might’ve maybe been something more, if you hadn’t panicked and run off at the first thought of him.
your nose starts to run and you cry harder, wiping your nose against your sleeve, but it does nothing. you sit on the curb outside in the cold for so long you start shivering, but you don’t have the motivation to get up. a part of you doesn’t want to leave, and you don’t know why.
without the extra practice from cheol, you’ll probably bomb your final, which means having to take even more classes for even more credits next semester.
you hear a squeak behind you, but you don’t look back. whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.
“are you okay?”
a familiar voice calls out, and you force yourself to turn around.
“i mean, you don’t look okay,” he adds. “you’re sitting in front of my house, in the snow.”
you hadn’t even noticed it had started to snow again. “oh.”
“do you want to come inside?” he asks gently.
“no,” you answer immediately, but the cold is starting to get to you. “yes.”
he smiles, and just that makes you feel better. he moves out of the middle of the doorway, leaving room for you to come inside.
you stand up, trying to wipe the snow from your backside, and walk back into his house.
a pot of coffee is already steaming on the countertop, and he pours a mug and hands it to you. “why were you sitting in front of my house, in the snow?” he asks after a moment, giving you a minute to warm up.
“i don’t know,” you admit, sniffling. he hands you a tissue. where did he get that?
as you start to calm down and take in your surroundings, you notice he’s changed into jeans and a sweater.
“you didn’t have to change,” you say quietly.
“i know,” he says. “i, uh… i decided i’m going to the party later.”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
the tension in the room is almost unbearable, but you purposely ignore it, bringing his mug to your lips to drink with shaky hands.
“what did you mean, ‘it’s me’?” he says finally. “what you said earlier.”
you swallow. no running away this time.
“well. um. because you’re too good. at everything.” you close your eyes and sigh. “you’re good at math and you’re good at tutoring and you’re a good person.”
“oh?” he asks cautiously. “is that… a bad thing?”
“i don’t know,” you say,. “i don’t know. you’re too nice to me. i can’t figure it out.”
he smiles, and his hand moves at his side, as if he wants to reach out and touch you, but he stays put. “i–” he swallows. “i think you’re really great. and nice. and i wanted to, i guess, get to know you better. that’s why i suggested meeting outside the library. and why i help you so much. because i do want to help you, but, uh…” he trails off, staring at his feet. “i also want more than that.”
“you do?”
he looks up at you nervously, waiting to see if your reaction is good or bad.
“i also want more than that, i think,” you say quietly.
"do– do you wanna stay for a little while?" he asks, glancing out the window. "it's started snowing again."
you smile. "yeah."
his face brightens. "we can order food or watch tv, or– we could keep studying, whatever you want," he says shyly.
"i thought you were going to the party?"
"nah," he grins. "i’d rather stay right here.”
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rocketboots564 · 5 months
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Here is part one of my thoughts, notes, and reactions to Red Versus Blue Season 9 as a first time watcher!
Yes, I have heard the news about Rooster Teeth. No I will not let that stop me from binging this series one way or another!
The rest of each individual season will be posted separately instead of being a reblog of the first post… mainly because I saw how egregiously long my post on season 8 was.
Season 9 Part 1:
Epsilon… what do you mean nobody’s called you “Director” in a really long time? Sir, season 8 was probably just a couple months ago… I think…
I don’t know how much time has passed from S8 to S9
FIRST OF ALL TUCKER, CHURCH IS CABOOSE’S BEST FRIEND
Wait… how can you get winded if you’re an AI. I mean I know Epsilon is in a memory unit, but does that mean he relives everything in a human body too?
It does make sense that Epsilon doesn’t really know how to use a Rifle. Sure, Church (or Alpha? Imma stick with church) didn’t know how to properly use it either, but he did know how to adjust the scope.
“Torqued in my pants” pffft…
WOAH TUCKER?! You did WHAT IN ALONE TIME? WHAT THE HELL’S “ALONE TIME”? 😦
Erm… what the Metal Gear? I unironically love this stealth mission thing. And knowing South Dakota… I wonder how long it’ll take for this to go tits up…
I’m betting five to ten minutes
also, YESS THE BIG BUCKS BUDGET OF ANIMATED CG SCENES RETURNS.
South MY GOD LISTEN UP?! HAVE YOU NEVER PLAYED ANY STEALTH GAME?! Set up the MOTION DECTETORS!!!
As someone who’s had years of experience sneaking past light sleepers in the dead of night for snacks and video games… I could do this better than you South Dakota.
SOUTH THIS IS WHY WE SET OUR SOLITON RADAR!!! I mean motion detectors… sorry I got Metal Gear Solid on the brain
MY GOD THE ANIMATION?! THE TAG TEAMING?! What happened that got South Dakota to eventually abandon North Dakota?
I too could take 50 of them South… in a fight… definitely a fight
Oop I saw that in the background! Who’s that?!
OOH THEY BAITED ME WITH THE BLACK ARMOR! They almost made me think it Tex… it’s actually well… whoever this cyan lady is
Supportive Sarge? He WANTS to hear the blue perspective? He DOESN’T want to command and yell at his subordinates?
GRIF? CLEANING? Actually I could get behind Maid Grif.
“I actually like being talked down to” woah WOAH SIMMONS?! 🤨 real, me too…
I mean… at least Donut’s still kept his accidental yet somewhat intentional innuendos. And, also his diary apparently…
Damn SHUT UP SOUTH DAKOTA! SHUT UP!! NOBODY HEAR WANTS TO HEAR YOUR SHIT!
North? WHOAH ANIMATED FACES?! NORTH DAKOTA WITH THE CLUTCH!!
Medics = bad luck. Honestly… yeah for you guys they are.
THE PHOTOSHOPPED WET FLOOR SIGN AND MOP IS KILLING ME
The ultimate OTP battle: Caboose x Sheila versus Caboose x Email
Listen… Tucker… never in a million years will I ever call you Professor Fuck
Damn the Freelancer Program only has ranked mode? No wonder they’re all assholes
CONNECTICUT? SHE’S CT? Yeah I can see why you’re so mad about your low rank… you’ll get your shit rocked by Professor Fuck of all people. Fuck it… it’s a funny name
So like… you know you’ve got absolutely dogshit rizz when Caboose has a better shot at dating someone than you.
Speaking of which… Caboose is now in my top 5 of the most dateable guys in this show. Like take this quote from him:
“I just really want to meet someone nice. Someone who appreciates me for who I am not so much because I’m pretty but because they really want to get to know me…”
HOW HAS THIS MAN NOT WOOED THE HEARTS OF THOUSANDS?
Tucker has NO rizz…
Oh wow Epsilon, just drop the existential dread on your teammates like that with no warning. It is a damn good thing your teammates either don’t understand it or don’t care.
Huh… seems even in a memory unit in which everyone is different fate still finds a way to make Grif lazy and sarcastic again.
Then again, that’s kinda happening with the rest of Red Team as well, minus Simmons and Lopez
Also, LOPEZ IS BACK! And this time is immediately beefing with Simmons… or rather the other way around.
“I’ll show you who’s likable and funny, and who people like” SIMMONS BABY ITS YOU! YOUR THE ONE I LOVE! YOUR THE ONE I NEED!
I just like Simmons… a perfectly normal amount…
Conclusion: this season already fucking ROCKS I LOVE IT! HOLY SHIT THIS IS AWESOME!
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