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theloveclub-18 · 3 years

Text

She’s just a friend

summary: you and Ransom decided to try that friends with benefits thing

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

word count: 1947

warnings: explicit language, mentions of sex, but no actual smut, little angst

A/n: please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work.

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It was 3:15 a.m. when you opened your eyes. Ransom was lying next to you with his arm around you waist. You took a deep breath and tried to put out of his embrace, but he only held you closer. You should’ve not stay through the night and leave by the end of your fourth and last round.

Yeah, sex with Hugh Ransom was good, even more it was absolutely fantastic. You always thought about how maybe he ruined you for other partners. This man was so ridiculously good in it. What you also thought about was how maybe you should’ve known better and never agree for that friends with benefits thing. In your defense you really needed an emotional discharging and he’s always lookin’ so fucking sexy, so you just gave up, when he so casually asked you about it after a couple glasses of whiskey few months ago.

But now god knows how much you regret it because you fell and fell hard for that “asshole”. Well, actually he’s not that bad it’s more about how he wants other to see him. And they do. They all believe in it, his image of arrogant cold hearted jerk. Ransom is a jerk in fact, but sometimes you see things that others don’t. You see a broken boy who tries to cover his vulnerabilities by venom observations and jackass demeanor.

Of course you tried to talk to him about it, talk about what he went through, but it usually never worked out. Though one time after another family event you saw something in his eyes, a speck of sorrow and you let yourself to hope that this is the moment when he’d finally open up. It also was the moment when you knew how much you loved him.

But as soon as this thought slipped through your head, Ransom changed in face, as if he read your mind and he didn’t like what he saw. He stand out from the nice and warm bed and headed for the kitchen saying you should probably go home. He didn’t come back to the bedroom and soon you left his apartment with tears on your face.

You had nothing to blame him for. It was pretty clear from the start that he didn’t want anything serious from you or from anyone else. Ransom said he didn’t believe in such things like love and relationships but good fuck was something he believed very much.

So were you. At least for the first couple of months.

But then you did the stupidest thing you could ever do...you let yourself hope for more. You’ve started to notice his lovely glances from across the room and the way he always try to hold you whenever other guys where approaching you like he was marking you as his. How he was laughing at your stupid jokes and watched your favorite sitcoms with you.

It was three weeks later when you came to the local bar with your coworkers to relax on friday night after a hard week and spotted him flirting with some pretty girl at the table. You remembered her, she was the girl who takes care of his grandfather. Ransom was in white sweater that you gave him this christmas and the girl in cute little dress, well, she was really gorgeous one with big puppy eyes and the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. You knew you can’t compete.

He didn’t even notice you there and even if he did what’s the matter. He’d probably just say hello and walk away. You tried to calm yourself down and stop being so jealous, because you have no rights for it, but still it was breaking your heart.

The next day when you came to his apartment to take some of your things, you heard something you wish you’d never heard.Ransom was talking on phone when you walked in.

-“Yeah, man, you know she’s just a friend to me...yeah, I know-I know but hey you know i’ll never settle down for anyone...ahahahah...yes, even for Megan Fox”-Ransom laughed and you left as fast as you can.

And you were just a friend indeed and nothing more. You felt like you was the biggest fool on earth for believing that you really had a chance with someone like him.

You crying all way home and when you finally get there, you thought about how you going to end everything with goddamn Ransom, because of how much pain it caused you too be so close with him yet so far.

However now you laying in bed with the same man that you promised you’d never sleep again with, while he’s holding you close to his chest. Yeah, sometimes things doesn’t work the way you want them to.

You look at his peaceful beautiful face and wonder how would it feel to be loved by this man. To spend your life by his side.

“Well”- you think to yourself - “I guess we’ll never know”. And with that you slowly remove the blanket and get up from the bed careful enough to not wake Ransom up.

You stand a little bit too long in front of the front door and hesitate to leave, cause you know that this was probably the last night with him. When you get in the car you finally feel how hot your tears are and how heavy is this weight of unrequited love on your chest.

Days go by and you slowly started to live without him. You told your roommate Sarah never let him in again and blocked his number. You thought that maybe you doing something wrong and maybe you should’ve been happy with what you had. But then again you remembered that you’d never be more than a fuck buddy to him and he made himself pretty clear saying this to some of his friends just a couple of days ago.

“It’s time to move on”-you were thinking as you walked into some fancy restaurant for set up date that was arranged by Sarah. She said he’s very sweet and a doctor, so why don’t try it? Maybe this guy Mark is all you’ve dreamed for?

The guy is the complete opposite of Ransom. He’s not that tall, but very nice and lovely. He also have a pretty blonde curls and dark brown eyes that mean nothing to you, cause they’re not as deep as Ransom’s. You really try to enjoy the date, but all you can think about is how the man in front of you is not Ransom.

-“So what’s the guy’s name?”-Mark said.

-“What do you mean?”-you said with confused look-“What guy?”

-“The one you want to see on this chair instead of me”- he said with weak smile and understanding look- “Sarah told me about you wanting to move on and forget about «the jerk», but now i see you everything but ready to move on, so please tell me about it and maybe i’ll can help”

You gasped and thought about how your friend didn’t lie about Mark being kind and maybe a little too much kind to you.

-“Listen, I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss it right know, cause...”- you started, but get interrupted by Mark.

-“No, Y/N, I obviously can see that you not mentally here right now and that’s okay, it took me a long time to recover from my previous relationship too so i don’t wanna push you into something, you know. We can just have dinner like a good old friends and talk about our ex’s”-he smiled-“So feel free to start”

-“Okay”-you said still trying to proceed what he just said-“Well, i don’t wanna say his name and he wasn’t even my boyfriend. We just had sex with no strings attached”

-“But you get attached?”-he asked with a sad smile.

-“Yeah, and now i’m fucked”-you replied.

-“What did he say ‘bout your feelings?”-Mark asked as he sipped his wine.

-“Oh, no. I didn’t tell him about my feelings”-you said with sad eyes and tired smile-“I didn’t lost my mind completely to say to Ransom Drysdale that i love him with my whole heart and probably will never be able to not”

-“You love me?”-you heard a familiar voice behind you back and wished you could’ve just disappear.

-“I think I should go”-Mark said and hurried for the exit with a small smirk.

When you turn around you saw Ransom.

He looked worse than the last time you saw him. He looked tired and his beautiful blue eyes were full of so many things, that it confused you so much that you didn't know what to say.

-”Please, Y/N, tell me”-he said-“You love me?”-he looked so broken inside and desperate for my answer.

-“I...”-you hesitated for moment, but then decided to risk it all-“Of course i love you, Ransom, how can i not?”

-“Then why you left me?”-he said with pain in his eyes-“Left me in a middle of the night? Left me when i thought you are the one who’ll never do that.”

-“Because you didn’t”-you said with a small whimper feeling the weight on your chest again-“You didn’t loved me”

-“I did”- he said and finally you saw how red his eyes were-“And i do now”

-“Then why you didn’t tell me that? How was i supposed to know that when you started to close off every time i tried to bring something about feelings up?”-you said with a bitter feeling on you tongue.

“It was hard for me, okay? I’ve never told this to anyone before”-he said as his cheeks grew red-“Even to my mom when i was a child. I didn’t have a family when you can easily say such words”-Ransom took a deep breath before he could continue-“And then i met you and i liked you obviously. You became the light of my life. All those years I was living in a blur and never truly seeing things the way they where. I was a fool, because every time i was so afraid to ruin what we had, i wasn’t sure that you could ever feel the same. Y/N, i’m not a good guy and i’ve done a lot of bad things, but you were the only right thing in my life and i was afraid to admit it..”

You didn’t let him finish as you land your lips over his in a most gentle kiss you’ve ever had. You felt him smiling through the kiss as he was grabbing you closer and pulling you into another and more intimate kiss.

-“Is that mean i have a second chance?”-he said with a hopeful smile between the kisses.

-“No”-you said furrowing your brows only to meet his confused gaze-“Just kidding, of course you have, i don’t wanna lose you again”-you chuckled as you put your arms on his chest and looked into his ocean eyes, thinking that maybe you are the lucky one and you will be able to find out what it is like to be loved by Ransom Drysdale.

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you

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songofclarity · 3 years

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The way I see some discussions and mentions of Nie Dad’s death, they give the impression that Wen RuoHan killed him in the same manner Meng Yao killed those Nie cultivators in the Sun Palace: by savagely cutting him open and letting him bleed out across the floor while Nie MingJue could only stand there and helplessly watch.

And like, symbolically, I can see the similarities of teenage Nie MingJue having to just stand there and watch his dad rage himself to death in his sickbed, but what happened between Wen RuoHan and Nie Dad, and the Wen Sect and Nie Sect, is much more complicated and far less direct.

There are reasons Nie MingJue’s resentment is quoted as being about his father’s death and not, directly, at Wen RuoHan.

Three key points:

First, neither the Nie nor the Wen could ever possibly agree about who started the conflict or how it ended. Was Nie Dad truly the arrogant type who would be so prideful as to mock Wen RuoHan for enjoying something or did Wen RuoHan try to teach a lesson to someone who was the innocent victim of some guest cultivator’s malice? The guest cultivator played them both by setting up a lose-lose situation.

Second, Wen RuoHan did not and does not know about the saber spirit. Nie Dad was stuck in a sickbed for six months which shows there was plenty of time to heal him. Do the Qinghe Nie just not take care of their people? The Wen Sect love getting into other people’s business and they have fantastic doctors. Did the Nie Sect reject help when it was offered due to the secrecy of Nie Dad’s underlying condition? This Sounds Like a You Problem if the Nie Sect just let Nie Dad languish and die. It’s no wonder Nie MingJue would resent his father’s death if there was nothing in-house they could do to help him and the Nie Sect refused to seek outside help--especially for reasons of Sect pride.

Third, Nie Dad’s death, namely how Nie Dad handled being injured and the six months leading up to his death, was a horrific reality check for the Nie Sect and the consequences of their saber cultivation. Wen RuoHan did not lay hands on Nie Dad or attack him in any manner, and yet one indirect hit shattered what tenuous hold Nie Dad had on his temperament. How fragile and vulnerable the Qinghe Nie must have felt! Wen RuoHan found their fatal flaw by a complete accident! It’s easier for the Nie Sect to blame the Wen Sect when there is nothing they can do about changing their cultivation methods without completely changing the Nie Sect as they know it. Change is hard. Blame is easy. Anger is easy. Resentment is easy.

Keep in mind this conflict was not started by Wen RuoHan. I cannot emphasize that point enough. This conflict began when a guest cultivator heard the innocuous question, “What do you think of this saber of mine?” (ch. 49, ERS) and started naming names.

Wen RuoHan smacked Nie Dad's saber because he was told Nie Dad was arrogant, boastful, and condescending. He was told Nie Dad was a dirty liar who would compliment Wen RuoHan’s saber to his face and talk shit about it behind his back (or in his heart, which is kind of worse, actually).

[The guest cultivator,] "[Sect Leader Nie is] awfully arrogant, always boasting about how his prized saber is absolutely unrivaled, and how even in a hundred years no sword has been able [to be] compared to his. No matter how good one's saber was, he definitely won't admit it, and even if he did admit it out loud, he won't admit it in his heart." [Ch. 49, ERS]

Is this a true account of Nie Dad’s character or is it a complete fabrication in order to throw him under the bus? We’re never told. But Wen RuoHan is told that Nie Dad will not be telling him the truth about how he feels, so Wen RuoHan can’t even talk to Nie Dad about it in order to clear the air if he so wanted. The guest cultivator has put Wen RuoHan and Nie Dad in a lose-lose situation. The conflict has immediately degraded to petty passive aggressive revenge.

Wen RuoHan decides to test the waters. Or, perhaps, he will teach Nie Dad a lesson in humility.

[Wen RuoHan,] "Are you sure about that? Well, I want to see." (Ch. 49, ERS)

Wen RuoHan requests Nie Dad’s presence. He holds the saber and compliments that it’s a very good saber. Then he does one of three things: he tests the saber’s strength for himself, teaches Nie Dad a lesson about having too much pride, or both.

Wen RuoHan smacking the saber, trying to break it, is a good way to humble a man whose pride comes from having the so-called greatest saber. Maybe when that saber breaks Nie Dad won't be such an arrogant asshole anymore. The guest cultivator noted that the saber was a point of pride for Nie Dad. Take it away, and maybe he’ll be more humble from now on.

The saber should probably have broken when slapped several times, but it didn't, because it was indeed a good saber.

Wen RuoHan hands the saber back and that is the end of Wen RuoHan’s involvement with Nie Dad and the Nie Sect.

(Keep in mind that we hear about Wen RuoHan leaving his house ONE time in canon, and that was to fight Nie MingJue at Yangquan during the Sunshot Campaign. Wen RuoHan and the Wen never go after the Qinghe Nie again until after the Sunshot Campaign begins.)

Nie Dad leaves the Sun Palace without noticing anything wrong with his saber. He finds the encounter with Wen RuoHan strange, but he leaves it at that.

The Sect Leader of the greatest saber cultivation sect didn't know his own saber had somehow been damaged! How embarrassing for him when he went on a night hunt days later and it broke and he got severely injured!

And that's it. Now Nie Dad's saber isn't the greatest saber anymore. Wen RuoHan taught Nie Dad a lesson, purposefully or not, and Nie Dad is still very much alive. Cultivators aren't down with their injuries for very long. It took Qingheng-jun a month to die from his critical injuries. By comparison, the core-less Jiang Cheng recovered from his broken ribs in just 3 days and the core-less Wei WuXian healed from an abdomen wound in a week. Six months for Nie Dad, a capable cultivator with likely a powerful golden core, is a long time! Unlike Qingheng-jun, he arguably was at least in a stable if disabled condition if he lasted six months.

Lesson learned and he'll be fine.

But Nie Dad isn't fine. He stews in his anger, his embarrassment, his resentment. He lets his fury engulf him. He can't heal from his injuries because all he wants to do, let’s say, is rage and yell and fume about that fucking Wen RuoHan who played a dirty trick!

(And if he did rage as such, perhaps there is some hearty arrogance in him that he thought himself and his saber untouchable, that he didn’t even give it a second look after Wen RuoHan was involved.)

It's not clearly stated if Nie Dad died from his injuries or by qi deviation, but considering the extent Nie MingJue and his sworn brothers go to in order to avoid a qi deviation AND Nie MingJue’s own feelings with how his father died, it's highly probable that Nie Dad died from qi deviation. And, like I said, if a cultivator doesn't die immediately from their wound, and if the wound doesn’t even put them in a critical condition, they heal just nicely.

But Nie Dad dies. It’s interesting to note the description of Nie MingJue’s trauma:

The thing in Nie MingJue's life that he loathed and regretted the most was the death of his father...

After Sect Leader Nie was brought back [from the night hunt where his saber broke], he couldn't make peace with such an event no matter what, and his injuries didn't heal either. Having fallen ill for half a year, he finally left the world, from either the anger or the illness. The reason why Nie MingJue, along with the entire Qinghe Nie Sect, detested the Qishan Wen Sect with such intensity was due to this. (ch. 49, ERS)

Although the Wens become the target of Nie hatred in the wake of Nie Dad’s death, Nie MingJue isn’t loathing them specifically. It’s not Wen RuoHan he hates, but rather the death of his father. The nuance here is important. He loathes those six months where Nie Dad could not get better and refused to get better when he picked his anger over healing. Those six months where he would have lashed out and shouted at his innocent children--just like Nie MingJue would, years later, shout and lash out at his brothers.

The death of Nie Dad showed the very worst side of the Qinghe Nie Sect and the effects of their saber cultivation. And all Nie MingJue, just a teenager at the time, could do was stand there and watch it all unfold. What a nightmare. It’s no wonder he accepted help from the Song of Clarity when he did, especially when Lan XiChen and Jin GuangYao were amping up the risk. it really just highlights the outrageous betrayal by Jin GuangYao, who knew all of this about Nie MingJue and the Nie Sect and still did what he did, using intimate knowledge to slowly murder Nie MingJue for his own gain.

Not even Wen RuoHan was that cruel.

Because all the while Wen RuoHan is not aware of the saber spirit or Nie Dad’s high risk of qi deviations. Nobody outside the Nie Sect knows about the saber spirits. Outside the Nie Sect, saber spirits aren't a real thing that someone could reasonably plan for. Hell, even Nie HuaiSang went over twenty years not knowing about the saber spirits and he lived with them!

So there is no possible way Wen RuoHan could have suspected pulling a punk ass, petty stunt to humble Nie Dad would exacerbate this supernatural disease that would anger Nie Dad to death.

This isn’t to say that Wen RuoHan is innocent. He very much chose to call Nie Dad over and made the decision on his own to smack the saber. But fate took over after that. The saber didn’t have to break and it didn’t have to break at such a dangerous moment.

Wen RuoHan’s actions did not seek Nie Dad’s death--because if he wanted Nie Dad dead, he would have killed him. (Who could have stopped him? No one.) Having policies that cause injury but not necessarily death are kind of Wen RuoHan’s thing though. (That’s an analysis for another time.) Suffice to say, no one can learn their lesson if they’re dead. Indoctrination camps and supervisory offices require living, breathing people to teach and be supervised. Wen RuoHan never sought to take over the world, only to correct the obvious flaws in the world around him. Correcting Nie Dad’s arrogance and pride was such an attempt.

And the Nie Sect secrecy shot the Nie in the foot in the end. They were angry with Wen RuoHan and the Wen Sect for causing Nie Dad's death by causing his injuries by damaging the saber, but of course Wen RuoHan and the Wens would never agree with this under the known circumstances. And with them being Wens, of course they aren’t going to take the blame and no one else is powerful enough to force them. This whole situation is especially Not Their Fault from their point of view.

Nie Dad was in bed for six months without critical injuries.

Maybe the Nie Sect should have had gotten better doctors.

(And I can perfectly imagine the Wen Sect, always throwing their weight around, actually offering to send their doctors, arguably the best doctors in the cultivation world, and the Nie Sect refusing because what ailed Nie Dad was not something the Nie Sect wanted to share. Nie MingJue allowing his sworn brothers to help him shows he learned from the experience of his father’s death, but I digress.)

We know all of this to be true because Wen RuoHan, years later at the start of the Sunshot Campaign, speaks of the Nie Sect as a place where people die in part because of their personality type and in part because the Nie Sect itself fails to care for them:

...the Qinghe Nie Sect's sect leader [Nie MingJue] was so stiff that he'd easily snap in half--soon afterward, no need for others to move and he'd die in his own people's hands sooner or later... (ch. 61, ERS)

And considering what we know about the saber spirits, this is a pretty good deduction when Wen RuoHan is missing the saber spirit cornerstone. The Nie Sect has a cultivation tradition that kills them. Obviously it’s in the hands of their own people that they die, having picked up this cultivation style. Wen RuoHan also accurately determines that personality, such as Nie MingJue being inflexible, contributes to that death. It is the build-up of anger and resentment that eventually pushes the Nie cultivator to snap and fall into a qi deviation.

But of course Wen RuoHan also lacks the knowledge that saber spirits cause those personalities to begin with. That Nie Dad acting rigid or arrogant or harsh might not be because he’s an actual asshole, but rather because the saber spirit is effecting his temperament. With a teenage son, Nie Dad was likely pushing 40 if not already much older. We see what a juggernaut Nie MingJue already is in his early 20s. Nie Dad had more than twice the time to wreck his temperament than Nie MingJue ever did, and it still took him six months to die while in a constant state of turmoil while bed bound.

(Which really shows how deadly the Collection of Turmoil was if it could kill Nie MingJue in less than half that time. I know this post is about Wen RuoHan and the Nie, but it truly cannot be understated how horrifically cruel Jin GuangYao’s actions were when he carefully crafted Nie MingJue’s murder, especially how he would have heard from both sides how this all went down.)

In the end, Wen RuoHan obviously gained a vague idea about what happened and what the Qinghe Nie are like as a Sect, but he is, of course, missing the vital point--just as he misses the vital point when he doesn't actually try to kill Nie Dad.

#wen ruohan #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #mdzs thoughts #mdzs quotes #i am both a pro nmj and pro wrh blog so please play nicely

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hongism · 4 years

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not your typical flower shop story - chapter 5

➻ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader

➻ Genre: Flower Shop Owner!Taehyung, College!Reader, College!Taehyung, Gang/Mafia!AU Angst, eventual smut, Lovers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers LOL, Strangers to Lovers

➻ Word Count: 5.0k

➻ Rating: M

➻ Warnings: language, talk of guns and weaponry, a bit of blood, guns are present in this chapter

➻ Summary: You always goes to the cute boy next door’s flower shop across the street because hi yes he’s the cutest damn person you’ve ever seen, until one day a guy with tattoos and a severe obsession with the color black shows up in the shop asking for the ‘usual’ and you find out that your cute innocent little flower boy has a dirty little secret.

⇐ previous | next ⇒

You force yourself to step forward. Heavy feet drag you to the edge of the bar. He turns to face you when you’re still three feet from his stool. Your heart nearly stops beating in your chest, blood runs cold, eyes surely bulge out of your skull. A smile is the first thing you see, dark brown eyes hidden behind the soft crescents of his eyelids. Plump lips. White teeth. Crescent eye smile. And –

“There you are, princess.”

A gunshot echoes through the room. You sigh, looking forward to the target only to see that your bullet missed yet again. You lower the pistol to your side with a grimace. The target taunts you: its body-shaped cutout looming in the distance with no bullet marks across its metal surface. A voice rings out behind you to drive the metaphorical knife of defeat further into your chest.

"You're distracted."

"And you're annoying," you grumble in response, repositioning the pistol to aim at the target once more.

"Don't look so surprised. You were told I would want to see you, were you not? Come now, princess, don't get cold feet on me now."

"You're putting too much weight on your front foot. You need to keep the weight balanced so that any recoil from the shot doesn't throw you off."

"You look about as confused as I thought you would. Don't worry, we will have plenty of time to discuss things in the future. Now that we're working together after all. Isn't that nice, princess?"

"Are you listening, Y/N?" Yoongi's voice cuts through the memory. You jerk your head to look over your shoulder, eyeing the silver-haired man. Instead of responding, you try your best to shake the memory away from the forefront of your mind and aim your gun. There is a slight tremor in your hands, barely visible, but audible. A faint clicking that resounds in the silence of the warehouse.

"I wonder how long it will take for you to abandon me this time. Three months? Two? A week? You've got a record to beat, I know, but try not to make it too snappy. I want to see my princess' pretty face a bit more before you betray me again."

In the moment you had wanted to scream, yell, shout, anything that would be loud enough to get through Jimin's thick skull. Perhaps punching him would have been effective, but all you could do was stand there. Looking dumb and clueless, mouth wide open even though you had had a sneaking suspicion that he would be there.

"Close your mouth, kitten. You'll catch flies like that."

He sounded so arrogant, so confident that he was in the right. You aren't wholly sure what happened to his brain when he had his accident, but something must have gone wrong that the doctors didn't tell you about. The Jimin you saw that night in the bar was not the one you left in the diner. It infuriates you.

All the efforts you've made for him, everything you've done, the money you've raised and spent on him, the time and effort you put into visiting and taking care of him -- all wasted on a Park Jimin who came back as an asshole?

You release a string of curses under your breath then unload your clip into the metal dummy across the room. Every single shot misses except for one: a clear hole in the middle of the dummy's head. You don't lower the gun. You just stand in the same position, gun forward and chest heaving, as tears start to well in your eyes.

It's been eight days since you saw Jimin in the bar, made a deal with Namjoon, agreed to give your life away all to see Jimin again, and yet not once have you stopped to think about seeing him again. Namjoon made a point of keeping you busy, jumping between lessons about everything under the sun day and night. Some of that is your own fault since you told Namjoon that you could handle it and would rather just do everything at once. Maybe your feelings are so pent up that they are ready to spill over.

A hand covers yours on the grip of the pistol. It pushes your fingers aside and takes the weapon into its own grasp. You glance to the left, finding Yoongi next to you with furrowed brows. Concerned. Of course. Everyone seems to be concerned. First Taehyung, then Namjoon, and now Yoongi. Everyone except for fucking Jimin.

"Let's take a break," he mutters. You scowl at the prospect.

"I don't need a break. I'm fine."

"Say that to the dummy with a hole in his head."

A scoff escapes your lips. You snatch the pistol back from Yoongi and make quick work of releasing the empty clip and putting a new one in as he showed you the first day of your little "training sessions".

"That's the point of this, isn't it? Hit the damn target?"

"You haven't been listening to a single word I've said in the past two hours. The point is to manage your surroundings. Not the targets. Scoping out. Not just shooting."

"Can we move on then?"

Yoongi's lips close before another sigh can get out. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Your hands are shaking, you can't focus, you haven't been listening to a word I've said. Something is wrong."

"It's nothing," you hiss out between gritted teeth. "Let's just move on and start a different lesson." You raise your pistol again, aiming it at the target to fire once more but Yoongi stops you. He places his hand over the gun and pushes it down to your side.

"How about you stop. Just take a break."

"Why do I need a break? Isn't Namjoon sending me on a job today?"

"It's a training job. Not a serious one." Yoongi eyes you. You fidget under his gaze, uncomfortable with the way he seems to be reading your emotions and thoughts with only a stare.

"Well, I need to be ready for it nonetheless."

"Is it about Jimin?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Your retort gives away the issue, but honestly, it's better than straight-up confirming what Yoongi thinks.

"Your mission tonight is with him. Did you think I didn't know that? Or notice the conversation you shared last week in the bar?"

"It was hardly a conversation, so don't call it that."

"Y/N..."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"We can reassign you. It's okay to not be ready for a mission with him. I can ask Namjoon to put you on duty with someone else."

"And do what?" You counter. You let your arm relax at last, pushing the pistol into Yoongi's outstretched hands, and take a few steps back. "Sit around not doing anything?"

"You have been working nonstop for the past week. Maybe you need to sit around not doing anything." Yoongi holsters the pistol in the band of his pants. He has thankfully stopped looking at you, but you still feel the concern radiating off him in waves.

"Where's Taehyung?" You ask, shifting the conversation.

"Doing his job," comes Yoongi's short response.

"Just put me with him for the night then. I can sit around being useless next to him. Would that make you happy?"

"This isn't about my happiness, Y/N. You joined us. You had the opportunity to walk away once you found out that Jimin was here too. But you didn't. You stayed."

"I didn't think--" You stop yourself, refusing to let the words reach the air between you and Yoongi. "I thought... nevermind. You know what? I'm fine. It's fine. I will go on this damn mission with Jimin, and everything will be fine." You step around Yoongi, ignoring the hand that darts out in attempts to grab hold of yours, and instead make your way towards the door of the warehouse. Footsteps resound behind you. Yoongi is following you, but of course he is because he can't seem to leave well enough alone.

Stepping out of the warehouse, you are greeted by darkness. Yoongi falls into step beside you despite your cold aura. The two of you walk through the alleyway in utter silence, the only sounds coming from the road before you. Cars whiz to and fro, as fast as your thoughts at the moment. As thankful as you are for Yoongi's silence, it doesn't help get your mind off the fact that you are going to have to work with the new Park Jimin tonight.

Over the past week, you have made many efforts to avoid him. Either he isn't around all too much at the base Namjoon set up, or you did a good job and failed to run into him. You don't want to work with him, but it seems stupid to go to the leader of a gang and say hi I don't like this person, can you not assign me with them? when it's your first mission.

It's fine, Y/N. It's fine. A simple little mission. One dinner. No guns needed, no hostiles, just gathering intel. It's easy.

Except it's the opposite of easy. You are going to be sitting across from Jimin and have to fake niceties with him as he does the hard work of gathering intel. In other words, you're a decoy for him to use as cover. Isn't that fantastic?

Yoongi senses your discomfort. He doesn't say anything but you feel him step closer to you, shoulder brushing against yours as you walk.

"Listen, Y/N," he says after the two of you reach the sidewalk by the road. "You don't have to take this mission. There is no shame in not being ready for it."

"Yes, there is," you grumble. The image of Jimin's taunting grin surfaces in your mind. "If I don't..."

"Namjoon will understand. He's really good at that surprisingly."

"This isn't about Namjoon." You pause, dragging your tongue over your lips, and glare down at the sidewalk as it disappears under your feet. You aren't sure what you're trying to prove. As much as Yoongi is confused, you are too, and there are a million reasons as to why you might be feeling this way. Jimin is at the top of the list. Of course. Of course. He was the only reason you joined. The money was to be for him, and when you confirmed that he was no longer in the hospital and working with Namjoon, the purpose was to be with him. You have a million and one medical bills to pay off because of him. A higher apartment rent to pay because of him. For as long as you can remember, everything you've done has been for him. You always imagined that it would all be worth it in the end, you would get to have closure and happiness again after it all ended, and yet here you are. Way sooner than expected. Far more disappointed than you could've imagined.

You stop in your tracks. Yoongi continues to walk forward a few steps before he notices that he's leaving you behind.

Closure. That's what it's all about: having even just a shred of closure from Jimin.

"I think I'll be fine, Yoongi." You resume your pace and leave Yoongi to catch up with you without explaining your sudden halt. "It's not that big of a job, right? All I need to do is sit there and look pretty for Jimin." There is a tinge of bitterness concealed in your tone, one that Yoongi doesn't comment on because he must know that you're right. As much as you don't like it, you still have to do it. Sure Yoongi said that you could ask Namjoon to reassign you, but if this is your one chance at closure with Jimin, then you need to take it.

The sun is breaching the midpoint in the sky, clouds dissipating and unleashing the heat of the day on you. You increase your pace, and Yoongi follows suit. It's a mystery how he manages to survive the heat whilst wearing all black all day. The two of you reach the front of a grungy bar, the dark wood a looming familiarity before you.

When Namjoon initially agreed to take you to his "base" as he called it (all the verbiage he uses is something you have yet to get used to), you were expecting to leave the bar and go to some super-secret building, but no. Instead, he took you around the corner of the bathrooms in the bar to a simple metal door and told you to go in. Of course, you should've assumed he would have a secret underground base somewhere, but a grungy bar was the last place you thought of.

Yoongi opens the door for you, letting you step in first before following behind, and you sigh when the cool air inside the bar hits you. It's relatively empty, although it's still early afternoon. In your mind, it's not early enough though, because you have to be ready to leave on a mission with Jimin in less than four hours. The anxiety is beginning to build up and bubble in your gut again. If Yoongi notices, he opts not to comment on it this time.

The walk to the door in the back is quick, made quicker by your haste, but you have to wait for Yoongi to catch up anyways since he holds the key to going further down.

"Why are you thinking so hard?" He asks at last while fiddling with his keys.

"I'm not," you argue.

"You have a bad habit of lying, Y/N."

"I'm not trying to..." The words come out quieter than you intended, making it quite obvious how you're feeling. Yoongi's long fingers hesitate next to the doorknob.

"If you're not careful, I'll tell Namjoon to reassign you myself," he mutters as he works the door open. You grimace and look away from the man. A creak resounds when the door swings open, much quicker and more forceful than you were expecting. Yoongi seems surprised as well, a small inhale of shock hissing through his teeth, and he takes a step away from the door.

"You're back!" The voice causes a loud noise to leave your lips, shoulders and body jerking from the surprise. You glance up and find a boxy grin revealing bright teeth. Relief washes over you.

"Taehyung," you greet with a smile of your own. His precious smile is a blessing honestly, and it helps alleviate your anxieties just by seeing it. He's still dressed in his typical casual outfit, along with the white apron from his small flower shop.

"Are you heading out?" Yoongi asks, motioning over the apron.

"Ah, no! I just got back," Taehyung explains. The smile never leaves his lips as he speaks. Yoongi opens his mouth to speak again, but Taehyung ignores him in favor of grabbing hold of your hand. He tugs you towards the descending staircase. "But Y/N, today was slow, so I had some extra time to work on arrangements. I made a really pretty one and thought you might like it, so I brought it back with me!"

Yoongi grumbles behind you, most likely about how he was snubbed, but you can only focus on not tripping down the steep staircase as Taehyung pulls you forward.

“I got a new batch of violets set up at the shop, and I was thinking of giving them to you for your windowsill. But! Then! I had an idea! So I worked on a new arrangement with a whole array of shades of violets. I got some indigo ones along with burgundy and pink ones, so I repotted them. The ones in your window die so quickly so I thought maybe it would be easier for you to have ones that you can water and keep alive for a while.” Taehyung’s enthusiasm is almost infectious, and you continue to smile as he rambles on about the flowers. You don’t have the heart to tell him that you never try to keep the flowers in your window alive. That would be unveiling your little secret about why you went to his flower shop so frequently. Then again, you get to see Taehyung much more often because of your new arrangement here.

Taehyung pulls you all the way down the long flight of stairs, and once you reach the bottom, he turns to you. You aren’t sure whether he’s expecting you to respond in some way but you don’t get to find out because his expectant grin leaves your line sight. He tugs you along, refusing to let go of your forearm. The typically dark underground warehouse is lit up at the moment, a rare sight usually upon Namjoon’s claims that he “thinks better when it’s dark”. Taehyung drags you all the way to his little open office in the corner of the room. The area is shrouded by a multitude of computer servers, a blockade that serves as the walls for his space. Behind all the servers lies a rather bare desk and chair, four computer monitors strung together with wires around them like a spiderweb. And sure enough, there on the desk, is a ceramic flower pot with an assortment of violets in it.

That’s when he finally lets go of your arm, dropping it to motion towards the pot with fervor.

“What do you think? Do you like them?” He asks as you look over the flowers. They’re soft and delicate, small buds and blossoms spread across the green leaves, and all dirt is tucked away from the flowers themselves. You almost reach out to touch the petals but think better of it.

“I love them, Taehyung. They’re really gorgeous.”

“I’m glad! It’s just something small, you know… I figured it might help you in some way maybe?”

“Help me?” You echo, head tilting to the side in question.

“Ah, well, you just – you seem stressed? Ever since joining us. I totally understand; when I first joined, it took me weeks to get settled and used to things. I think I was a high-strung mess for at least two weeks. I figured this might help ease some of that.” He’s even more concerned than when I first came. Great. At least he doesn’t think it’s about Jimin.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say with a small smile. “I’m not really good at keeping things alive though…”

“Oh! That’s okay! I can give you a few tips and tricks on how to best take care of the flowers. Maybe tonight after you get back from your mission?” Taehyung clasps his hands together and brings them over his chest. He beams down at you. “I could walk you home? I mean, if it’s not too much trouble… we’re next-door neighbors after all. If you don’t though, that’s perfectly okay!”

“No, no, no!” You refute. “That would be nice, yea.” Especially after the mission. And after Jimin.

“Amazing! I mean, great yes.” Taehyung scratches the back of his neck and turns away from you. There is a ding, then a small whooshing sound that catches both your attentions. He glances over his monitors. “Ah, looks like Emperor sent me a job. I’ll talk to you later, yea?”

You merely nod in response as Taehyung moves to sit down at his desk. It’s at that moment that Yoongi decides to catch up to you two. He clears his throat, and you shift to look at him.

“Speaking of… Emperor asked to see you before your mission.” Yoongi points over his shoulder with his thumb, and you follow his thumb with your eyes. No one is standing behind you so you aren’t sure why you look over there. Nonetheless you do, only to see nothing there except for an empty place. “In his office, Y/N,” Yoongi clarifies as he sees your line of sight.

“Oh yea, of course, duh,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. You move around Yoongi with the intention of going to Namjoon’s office. He catches you by the arm first, brows still furrowed as they were during your training session, and you want to look away.

“You’re leaving earlier than planned,” he says under his breath. He tilts his head away from Taehyung’s little corner, obviously not wanting the other man to overhear. “Star already took care of the reservation, but Emperor wanted to chat with you a bit before you get ready to go.” There is a lingering sense of foreboding in Yoongi’s words, and it feels more like a warning than anything else. As you pull away, you make eye contact with Yoongi and watch the slight shake of his head in confusion. I’m… what is that supposed to mean? Instead of asking for clarification, you merely continue to move away from Yoongi and head for Namjoon’s office with much more hesitant steps.

It only takes one knock for him to welcome you in, the door swinging open a moment after you rap your knuckles against the wood. Except it isn’t Namjoon who answers; rather it’s someone else, a new and unfamiliar face which is a bit surprising since you’ve been in and out of the base for eight days straight now. The man is about as tall as Namjoon, dark hair neatly swept back and held in place by hair gel, and he wears a suit. You weren’t expecting that either, seeing as everyone else you’ve met (aka Yoongi, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jimin) wear seemingly casual clothes all the time.

“Oh perfect. Just who we wanted to see!” The man greets, full lips stretching into a broad smile, and his eyes fall into soft crescents. He ushers you into the room. Once you’re in, you spot Namjoon. He’s seated behind a large dark wood desk, one that looks quite expensive, in a tall leather chair. You’ve noticed over the past week that he always carries himself with an air of arrogance and pride, and you see it now in the way that he sits. Back rigid and straight, shoulders pushed back, one leg crossed over the other, elbows propped up on his desk.

You step further into the room without any hesitation.

“Have you two met, Miss L/N?” He asks once the door into his office snaps shut.

“No…”

“Kim Seokjin. Business dealings are my specialty but I also dabble in management and politics. You probably know me better as Star.”

“Oh? Oh, yes, yea I’ve heard the name mentioned here and there.”

“The two of you can exchange further pleasantries at a later time. Right now we need to discuss business.” Namjoon motions to the chairs set in front of his desk, and you hurry to sit down. “We had to adjust the schedule of your mission tonight. Move it up a little. The reservation is now for 5:15 instead of 6:30. Our client told us that things shifted a bit on his side so we made last-minute adjustments. However that’s not exactly what we need to talk about.” The other man, Seokjin, sits down beside you as Namjoon speaks.

“Our client requested further intel,” Seokjin explains further once he’s seated. “Paid a significant amount extra for the information as well. The requested intel, however, requires that you and Moon to do a bit more than just a simple dinner.”

“Meaning?”

“I made reservations for you and Jimin to stay at a hotel tonight. The same hotel that the man Moon will be gathering intel from, in fact. Don’t worry, the room has two beds so you don’t need to fret about that.”

“Why exactly do I need to go to the hotel with him?” You ask, voice rising as panic surges through you. You were alright with the idea of having dinner with Jimin for the mission, but having to sleep in the same room as him? That’s far different and far more anxiety-inducing. How the fuck am I supposed to spend an entire night with him?

“To keep up appearances,” Seokjin says. “We need the target to believe that the two of you are a married couple on a date. If he’s suspicious of anything then the mission is at risk. I understand you might not enjoy it, but your job is to make sure that Moon’s cover holds. You fail, he fails.”

“I understand,” you whisper. The man’s words certainly add a great deal of gravity to the situation and your part in it. Perhaps your earlier assumption that you would only be serving as a “trophy wife” was incorrect.

“The target typically spends an hour at the hotel bar. We’ve watched his movements and patterns for a while and know exactly when he will be at the bar in the hotel. You and Moon will go directly there after dinner, Moon will gather his intel, and you will make sure that no one suspects Moon of eavesdropping.”

“Easy.”

Seokjin laughs a little at your small comment. “Exactly. You and I will get along just fine, Y/N. Now, Emperor, I need to go close a deal with another client, so if you’ll excuse me?”

“Go ahead, Star.” Namjoon nods at the man, and he stands to leave without further ado. You watch him go out the corner of your eye before turning back to Namjoon once he’s gone.

“So how long until I get a fancy nickname like the rest of you?” You inquire with a small tilt to your chin.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t care for our “nicknames”, Miss L/N.” Namjoon chuckles, letting his elbows fall off the desk and relaxing his arms some.

“I just don’t understand the significance of them. I mean, Moon and Star make sense together, but what does Emperor have to do with anything? And why do you use codenames sometimes but not all the time?” You’ve never heard Namjoon call Yoongi or Taehyung by any sort of codename, at least not that you’ve noticed. It’s a strange inconsistency for someone like Namjoon who seems so serious about being right all the time.

“Hm well, perhaps I’ll explain it to you one day. Right now, however, you need to go change and get ready to go. You don’t have long until your reservation after all.”

“And am I supposed to wear just this?” You motion down at your current outfit, obviously being a bit cynical with your words, but Namjoon gives you a once over.

“No. Your outfit for tonight is in the bathroom upstairs. Since we made last-minute reservations for the hotel, we don’t have a set of clothes for you to change into after, but the hotel should provide something for you both.”

You nod along with Namjoon’s words. A whole night with him… not how I wanted to spend my night. I guess I don’t have a choice though.

“Right… uh, then permission to leave?” You try not to sound too upset with the change of plans. If Namjoon notices the tension in your shoulders or the darkness in your expression, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Permission granted.” Namjoon dismisses you with a shooing motion. You’re eager to get out of the office, although you would much rather go anywhere else than get ready to leave for your mission. Yoongi waits outside the door when you leave; however, he must not be waiting for you because the man from earlier – Seokjin – stands across from him. You nearly run facefirst into Seokjin’s back as you step out.

“Oh!” Seokjin exclaims as you bring up a hand to keep yourself from running into him. “So sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your way.” He laughs and steps out of your way.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure with a small smile.

“Are you leaving already?” Yoongi asks when you move around him as well.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got to go change and stuff first but then we’re leaving.”

“Isn’t it a bit early?” He questions again.

“We had to make adjustments and change the reservation,” Seokjin explains for you, and Yoongi glances over to him.

“Ah, well I knew that but I didn’t expect it to be this early. Good luck, Y/N.” You and Yoongi make eye contact. He reaches out to press a hand against your arm, an obvious attempt to comfort you in some way, but it doesn’t help you much at all. Instead it only makes you feel weak. Weak for needing comfort over something that seems so trivial and meaningless. You brush his hand off your arm, a small smile crossing your lips. It’s a minimal effort to reassure him, and a minimal effort that doesn’t serve any purpose truly because the gleam of concern does not leave Yoongi’s eyes.

“Thanks. It’ll go well, I’m sure. I trust Jimin.” You utter the lie through gritted teeth. No one cares to call you out for it if they suspect it. There is some truth hidden in the words though. Because, yes, at one point you could easily have said that you trusted Jimin with your life. You did. That night at the diner you proved it. Yet this is where your trust got you. Somehow you can’t quite give up all hope on him. Surely the Jimin you knew back then is still tucked away in there somewhere. As much as you want to avoid him and any form of confrontation, you know what’s most important to you.

Him.

You’re determined to do whatever it takes to get the man you knew back. Step one is going on this mission with him and trying your best to trust him again. After all, he’s going to have to trust you to keep his cover. It’s a dangerous game of trust really, and you realize that as you near the top of the long staircase up to the bar. You send a stare down the steps, looking down into the light before continuing upwards into the darkness.

...

a/n: hello hello sorry this was delayed for a bit!! i didn’t mean to keep you all waiting, this story just takes longer for me to write and prep!! i hope you all enjoy this chapter and the reveals and such, please let me know what you think!

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usermischief · 6 years

Note

how do you think a 'theo never left, hale fire still happened, scott still got bit' au would go? i feel like theo would still be a lil manipulator (not as bad as he is in canon because the dread drs didnt happen... or happen yet) but after scott gets whats seen as super powers (at first), he just gets worse. theo going around trying to help stiles cure scott(while also trying to get bit himself), hating derek, theo dealing with stiles' ten yr lydia plan, ect.

Ooooh boy, I cannot describe the feeling of absolute joy I had this morning when I woke up to your ask! But since it was 5am and my brain absolutely fried because of sleep deprivation, it took me a while to form thoughts on the topic. And I’m so happy it gave me something to mull over during the train ride to my family and back home.

This has gotten much, much longer than I first anticipated, so bear with me because I had SO MANY thoughts on this, nonnie, you cannot believe.

So, we’re talking about an ‘everything is canon and happened as it happened in the show with the exception of Theo not leaving’ AU.

The first thing we gotta do? Answer the following question: Who was Theo as a child?

For that, I start with the information given to us via the Dread Doctors.

“You have the entitlement and narcissism typical of your generation.”

Basically, the Dread Doctors are saying that Theo’s an arrogant prick without their doing - which might be true to some degree - but I really can’t see that these guys did a lot to increase Theo’s confidence, you feel? So, entitlement and narcissism are two things we should keep in mind. (Oh god, it’s gonna be a long-ass reply and I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself).

But your failure taught us one thing. The banality of evil. That you were and would always be an ordinary evil.

You think I’m ordinary?

We believed that to resurrect the perfect killer we had to start with the perfect evil. From you, we learned true evil only comes from corrupting something truly good.

Meaning, they chose Theo specifically for being ‘evil’ or shady or damaged or whatever exactly this evil entails. It’s really hard to tell since we know so little about Theo’s childhood. We get hints throughout the show, sprinkled in mostly during Theo’s interactions with Stiles as well as Stiles’ perception of Theo.

For example, it’s Stiles who tells us in ep2 that Theo’s not the Theo he knew during 4th grade. Meaning, he’s not been charming and outgoing and overall someone you’d technically like. But that’s how Theo presents himself. Adding that to what the Dread Doctors have said about him, I’ll go out on a limb and say Theo’s been an asshole; which isn’t essentially that bad since Stiles is prone to be a dickhead as well.

But here’s a distinct line I’ll have to draw (and it’s the last thing I’ll need for the foundation of my actual response) I think Theo’s always lacked empathy to some degree. as well as he’s always been prone to violence. Here’s the thing, we don’t know how long the Dread Doctors have been in Theo’s head until they managed to make him watch his sister freeze to death/push her into the water, but the way Theo phrases it makes it seem as if not much time has passed between their arrival and Tara’s death. Also, seeing how easily Theo abandoned the Dread Doctors to do his own thing, I have a hard time thinking they completely manipulated him that much, ya feel? Also also, considering how fast the Dread Doctors worked on and abandoned the other chimeras, I doubt they spent a hell of a lot of time with Theo. They chose him, decided he’s worth it and went for it.

So, basically, we’re back to the age-old discussion about Nature vs. Nurture; and in Theo’s case both played a huge role in who he became. But, let’s ignore the Dread Doctors’ influence. What’s left? Under the cut, Theo’s not a nice person, no matter how much you squint. BUT I think his development could’ve changed if he’d stayed.

So, let’s get into this.

Starting with S1 (and I really don’t remember a lot about S1 & S2, really. It’s just key elements. I know, shame on me), I don’t think Theo would’ve helped to look for a cure. Frankly, because I think Theo isn’t friends with Scott. They don’t fit together. They are both on opposing ends of the spectrum while Stiles is smack in the middle of it.

In canon, Theo hates Scott enough to kill him simply to get him out of the way. He’s wanted his power, yes, but in the end, he murdered him to get Stiles and Lydia, Kira and Malia regardless of becoming an alpha. He couldn’t care less about Scott. I assume this hatred stems from their past, perhaps because Scott had something Theo craved - namely Stiles’ friendship (we can’t forget how driven and different Theo was with Stiles throughout S5). So, no, Theo’s not helping to find a cure. He probably doesn’t know about the supernatural at first.

He’s introduced to us, not in ep1 one, though. It happens a little later, when Scott and Stiles fight for the first time because Scott goes for help to a stranger rather than his best friend. And then there’s Allison. Stiles is simply pissed, needs to vent. He’s got a few other friends. Canonically, Stiles is seen talking to others; we learn about Heather, learn that Stiles has played in Little League that he’s skateboarding. Maybe he calls Theo one night. They hang out, and Stiles tells him everything without telling him what’s really going on. The more Scott hangs out with Allison, the more time Stiles spends with Theo. Eventually, Stiles and Scott make up. Theo hates it. He hates Scott. And he hates Lydia, too, although he can tolerate her because she’s ignoring Stiles.

But Stiles comes to him after Scott kissed Lydia. He’s heartbroken, and even Theo knows it’s fucked up to kiss the crush of your best friend. Although it’s the perfect chance, he never bashes Scott. It’s more important to let Stiles vent, to let him built trust. He wants Stiles to know that he can always come to him, no matter what. That’s what friends are for, right?

Theo plays lacrosse, more to keep in touch with Stiles rather than actual interest. Stiles gets him, you know? He doesn’t have to pretend so much. But Theo’s not first line. He’s a terrible team player. He’s also got asthma. Like Scott. So, he notices something is off. He doesn’t say anything, though, he just watches. For a person not caring too much about other people, he’s looking even closer when it comes to those Stiles hangs out with.

So, he notices Derek, notices how the creepy should-be-college student gets into Stiles’ car. He doesn’t hate him. Not at first. His focus is on Lydia who suddenly spends more time with Stiles. He’s heard about the break-up, heard that it’s Allison who convinced Lydia to be Stiles’ date for the winter formal. Obviously, he resents her for that alone. He’s liked her before. She was the reason Stiles has spent more time with him. But their time together becomes less and less. More often than not, Stiles doesn’t even show up to play online games any longer. He’s not pissed, just a little irritated. Stiles is slipping away because Scott needs more attention, because this new girl pushes Lydia to hang out with Stiles. But he also notices how stressed out Stiles always looks, tired, wary.

Then there’s also the talk about this wild animal killing people. Theo could’ve sworn he’s heard Stiles and Scott talk about werewolves. He thinks it’s stupid. (But is it really, though?)

Theo doesn’t see Peter’s attack Lydia, because he’s not at the Winter Formal. He’s heard she’s at the hospital and that she’s vanished. When he sees Stiles, he tries to comfort him. In truth, he’s glad she’s gone.

Theo’s not there when Peter dies. However, he’s out one night, skateboarding when the guy approaches him who’s gotten into Stiles’ car that one time. Derek chooses him because Theo’s life could have an upgrade; a loner, shitty family, asthma. They talk. Derek is honest about the advantages as well as the dangers. His betas deserve to know the truth. Theo accepts the bite and finally, everything makes sense. He’s not the first to receive the bite, that’s still Isaac. But he’s the one who learns the fastest. The newfound power is exhilarating. He still doesn’t hate Derek. He feels the bond snap into place, but he’s not really interested. He plays along because the Hale pack is involved with Stiles.

Theo hates how Scott tries to convince everyone that being a werewolf is terrible. They all know the downsides, they all accepted it. Isaac wanted to get away from his dad, Erica wanted to be better, Boyd wanted to belong. Derek and Theo were in for it because of the power. They get along surprisingly well.

At first.

But Theo’s there at the pool. Not in the beginning. Later. He’s arrived before Scott. He doesn’t notice the kanima, instead gets into the pool because Stiles’ exhaustion is prominent. They keep afloat until Scott arrives. Theo overheads Stiles muttering something about ignoring his call. They almost drowned. He notices a weird shift in Scott and Stiles’ relationship, almost sees little fractures. He also notices the shift between Derek and Stiles. He’s standing maybe two feet away when the two share a look of complete understanding.

It sets his teeth on edge. But he still doesn’t hate Derek because Derek wants to keep Stiles safe. That’s good.

When they capture Jackson and things get out of hand, Stiles protects Isaac and Erica but Theo protects Stiles.

Theo is there during the last battle, and here’s the thing; while everyone is busy with the kanima, Theo kills Gerard - not just because of what he did to Stiles and the members of his pack. He kills him because he knows Gerard’s never going to give up. He will come back. He doesn’t care about the repercussions. It’s one threat less in the world. That’s what counts.

It’s during the summer that Theo starts resenting Derek. Stiles is at the Hale house almost every day while they’re looking for Boyd and Erica. Scott’s scent clings significantly less to him. He almost always looks tired and there’s a certain aura of guilt surrounding him. Derek tells him it’s not his fault. Stiles tells him that if he’d been stronger, he could’ve freed Erica and Boyd. They still get each other. They are comfortable around each other. But Theo’s not the only one who notices, Isaac does as well. They both see Stiles grow and change and become a part of their pack but not really at the same time. They don’t really understand it. Isaac asks. Derek says he just wants to help. Theo knows it’s a lie.

When Derek drives Isaac and him away, Theo has already distanced himself from the pack. But he’s not joining Scott. He’s by himself because that’s what he does best.

Theo hates Lydia significantly less. It takes him a while until he understands why he hates Derek so much instead. During Motel California, Theo is weak but he’s not really affected by the Darach’s magic. While Boyd, the twins and Scott think about killing themselves and Isaac hides under the bed, Theo’s struggling with not killing the people standing in his way. Theo’s grateful as Lydia tackles Stiles to protect him from the explosion. She’s also with Aiden. She’s not a problem any longer. Instead, they become acquaintances. Weirdly enough.

He enjoys Cora’s company as well.

Theo feels Erica’s and Boyd’s death. It’s a hollow echo. Not devastation, exactly. But he’s at Cora’s side, next to Boyd’s lifeless body. Seeing Derek like this does something to him, the devastation, the absent fear. He’s not jealous when Stiles comforts him instead of Theo or Cora. He wants revenge. That’s all. An eye for an eye.

He isn’t shocked by the fact that Derek might be dead. It’s fine. Stiles will get over it. When Derek leaves with his sister, Theo’s relieved.

Theo’s there during the ritual. He’s nobody’s tether. That’s okay. He’s restless, though, and hates that he can’t do anything other than watch.

During the finale, he’s neither with Scott, Isaac, and Allison nor with Stiles. But he knows where Stiles is going. He arrives at the nemeton before everyone else. The only person he worries about is the sheriff. So, he goes to him first, frees him. He’s okay with letting the others die. One is a hunter, the other Scott’s mother. They don’t matter. The sheriff has always been kind to him. He doesn’t want him to get hurt - not just because Stiles would be devastated. Soon after Isaac and Allison arrive, everything collapses. Theo never leaves the sheriff’s side, no matter what.

Later that night, when everything has settled, Theo hops through Stiles’ window. He wants to check on him, wants to know how his father is. Stiles thanks him - and tells him that Scott let Deucalion go. He’s honest with Theo remembering how he’d killed Gerard, tells him that he’d rather see Deucalion dead as well. Theo’s honest with Stiles as well, tells him he’d kill Deucalion for him if he ever got the chance.

It’s their secret. They never talk about it again. (Not until Donovan, at least.)

They also never speak about Theo not willing to join Scott’s pack. Stiles is okay with it. Theo’s protected his father. If he doesn’t want to be pack, he doesn’t have to. They’re friends. Stiles guesses Lydia and Theo are some sort of friends as well. It’s hard to tell what Theo thinks about Allison and Isaac. Stiles knows Theo hates Scott but he never says anything about it either.

Theo never hears about Lydia kissing Stiles. It’s probably better that way.

During the hunt for Malia, he’s with Lydia and Stiles. He also sides with Stiles when it comes to Kira. Scott is irked by Theo’s obvious behaviour. He never says anything and pushes it to the side. Stiles is his best friend, after all.

Lydia sees it as well, and she knows. Theo is horrified she might tell.

But everything doesn’t matter any longer when that killer is on the loose.

At the party, Theo sees Stiles make out with Caitlin. He thinks about stopping it. He doesn’t instead listens in to their conversation, is surprised as Stiles hesitates after she asks him if he’s into boys as well, is surprised as he hears his heart skip a beat. When Stiles leaves, he tries to follow him but the Oni get to him first. It’s Derek who finds him on the way up to the loft.

When Stiles’ health deteriorates, it’s Theo who drives him to the hospital. After Stiles’ two panic attacks, one after his father got kidnapped, the other during class as well as his problems to differentiate between dream and reality, Theo’s stopping by frequently at Stiles’ house. Not to go in, just to hear if everything’s fine. He never tells anyone.

Whenever Stiles goes missing, Theo is looking for him with Derek but he checks in with Lydia frequently to hear if they have any news. He still hates Derek, but standing around in Stiles’ room, not doing anything irritates him. His former alpha at least actively does something - and he doesn’t have to like him to find Stiles.

He’s with Lydia when she’s in the car and screams and he’s at the hospital when everything goes to shit. He also accompanies the sheriff to Derek’s loft when they confront Void. Despite hating Derek, he works with him. They have the same goal, and he’s rather around someone who’d do what’s necessary than someone who tries to save everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. A threat dead is the only threat Theo accepts. It’s pragmatic. Reasonable. After everything, he’s a survivalist. He doesn’t care if people don’t like it.

He thought about killing Chris. (He still might.)

When Allison dies, Theo doesn’t feel anything. He’s too occupied with an unconscious Stiles’ and Lydia collapsing. He doesn’t know how to comfort her, and he’s irked he has to spend time with that. She needs a different way of comforting than Stiles who just needs someone to vent to, something to distract him. But he lets her cry at his shoulder regardless.

At the school, Theo is the one to get between a raging Void and Stiles and Lydia. The fact that he’s scared shitless is something he’s never going to tell anyone.

Theo goes with the pack to Mexico to help Derek, not because he likes him but because he owes him. He’s not handling the relationship between Malia and Stiles very well. In contrary to Scott, however, he tells Stiles that, if he doesn’t like what she does to him, he should put his foot down.

It’s hard to come up to something to s4 because I enjoyed this season even less than s6b which is saying something (I’ve never watched s4, to be honest, and would’ve given up on the show if not for Dylan and Cody - I gotta be honest here. I’ve only seen bits and pieces of s4 and I don’t have any interest in watching it).

I suppose Theo keeps his distance from the pack but keeps an eye on Lydia and Stiles. He doesn’t care much about Liam or Kira, isn’t too fond of Malia and Scott and Derek. He’s not interested in helping Liam, so he doesn’t appear at the party. He stops playing lacrosse but he watches the games together with Lydia. He also helps her and Stiles work on the lists. Since he can’t get into Eichen, Theo’s forced to wait outside.

I also wouldn’t be surprised if Theo kills one or two assassins for going after him or someone he cares about. It’s what he does; kill or be killed. He never feels bad because of it.

He’s not as glad as he expected to be when Derek finally leaves forever.

And now we get into unpopular opinion theory, so beware.

I don’t think much would change in s5a. Granted, the whole ‘Stiles doesn’t trust Theo’ dilemma is completely erased. However, is Theo really the catalyst for everything? How much influence did Theo have? I don’t want to take the blame away from him, not at all, but I do believe that Theo’s a skilled manipulator as well as someone who sees things. So, in canon, Theo has used problems to his advantage which had already been there.

I mean, Scott lies to Kira about her out of control fox, which is the Dread Doctors’ fault. Theo’s recorded her talking in her sleep (like a creeper). He also never did anything to make her want to kill Lucas.

Hayden dies which is also the Dread Doctors’ fault and Scott has made the decision not to bite her because he’s afraid the bite might kill her, meaning he would have been the one who killed her. The supermoon makes werewolves lose control. Liam could very well attack Scott anyway - the only difference would have been that Theo didn’t lock Scott up in the library. But the fight seems very likely either way.

Who are we to tell that Donovan wouldn’t have gone after Stiles regardless? In canon, Theo planted the seed but think about it. Donovan not only threatened the sheriff; he also wanted to attack Stiles because he’s made a joke out of him in front of the whole station, his lawyer and Scott. It’s entirely possible Donovan goes after Stiles because he’s pissed. The guy’s a psychopath. We know that. So, Stiles still ends up killing Donovan and Theo ends up killing Josh; the two would’ve been in the same situation with the only difference that Stiles might tell Theo about it because there’s trust between them. There wouldn’t be blackmail. After Stiles heard Scott’s speech about self-defence as well as the no-killing rule, they both simply decide to keep it to themselves.

Malia still pulls away from everyone because of her mother. Stiles pulls away from her because of Donovan’s death. They break up over it.

Scott still rams his claws in Corey’s neck for information. They still go through with the completely idiotic plan to capture the Dread Doctors at school while Stiles and Theo try to figure out who steals the bodies. Lydia still gets attacked by Tracy. They still read the book. They still go to see Valack. They find out it’s “their fault”. The chimeras are still dying. Sheriff Stilinski is still attacked by that berserker-chimera (Noah??? I don’t remember his name). Kira would still leave. And Theo might still be the person saving Liam and Hayden after he and Lydia continued to drill Corey with questions. Even if in canon Theo knows exactly where to find them; the truth is that the only thing they had to do was call Stilinski or Parrish to figure out where the latter had found Belasco/Belasko. Problem solved.

The pack is still falling apart.

Here are the differences, Scott doesn’t die (which is… a storyline they never really… used for anything other than Theo making fun of it, the confrontation between Theo and Stiles and Mason snapping at Theo in 6b, I guess).

Scott and John never figure out about who killed Donovan because neither Theo’s nor Stiles’ library access cards have been logged in during the 911 call.

Lydia doesn’t end up in Eichen.

The chimeras stay dead.

It’s Lydia who finds Sheriff Stilinski.

Listen, I don’t want to paint Theo as the villain who achieved nothing. Because he was more successful than many other villains. However, I still believe that Theo was more a puppet master than anything else. He was the one who made sure that everything was going according to plan. He left nothing to chance. He was the one who found everyone’s weakness, prodded at it and yanked it to the surface.

It’s the second part of s5 when things drastically change. There are no rivalling packs. There’s no Deucalion lured in by Scott to manipulate Theo into killing his own pack for power, so, Theo never gets sent to hell - at this point, I doubt he craves power as much as he has in canon. Like I said, his development would’ve been different away from the Dread Doctors even though he’s been a damaged child. He gets to know a different kind of power. He isn’t totally alone in the world.

I mean, Stiles still might lose his shit when Scott comes to the hospital. He’s dead on two feet at this point. His nerves wrecked. The only things holding him together are his skin and the will to keep his father alive. Scott hasn’t been there. He’s broken up with Malia. Lydia has called him to tell him she’s found his father. His car is destroyed so he calls Theo to take him to the hospital. Nobody can reach Scott who’s trying to heal. He arrives so much later and Stiles just breaks.

They know it’s a chimera who attacked the sheriff. Theo offers to get a scent and he gets something, after all, there’s still a part of the chimera’s bone stuck inside him. That’s what they’re going for. They find it and save the sheriff.

After that, s5 would revolve around figuring out who La Bête is and they would… kill it in the same weird way they did in canon.

I’m not going to talk about s6 because it’s a mess and a half. (We all know it would’ve been Theo who remembered Stiles *coughcough*) But I think that, ultimately, Theo gets better while Stiles gets worse - as it’s portrayed in the show. Circling back to the beginning and what I said about Theo’s proclivity to violence and murder, I do believe that he’d get rid of a few problems via either of those options. I don’t think he’d kill innocents. I do think he’d kill those who threaten his life or the lives of the few people he cares about.

I also believe that while Theo would’ve grown up learning to become a ‘better person’, he might have become an important person to Stiles, a person Stiles confides in no matter what it’s about - just like Lydia has because both take him the way he is. They take him with his good and his bad sides. So, I’m not saying Scott and Stiles stop being friends. I’m just saying that people like Derek and Lydia (and to some extent Theo) helped him grow a bit more into the person he is.

So, yeaaah. That’s my take on the whole thing. Again, sorry for the length. I just had so much fun with spinning this and it got slightly out of hand. I hope it’s kind of what you had in mind. Thanks again for the ask!

#anonymous #tw au #theo raeken #teen wolf au #steo #can i tag this as steo?#i think so #because it's kinda heavily implied #also send me more asks like this if you like #i totally enjoyed answering this soooo much

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yurionice-secretsanta · 6 years

Text

To @feshnie From @awesome-cookies-and-cream

Merry Christmas! i didn’t really know what you liked so I just did this…accept my 8,000 words worth of love for you!!!

Phichit was just a day before the second semester. College wasn’t that bad. In fact the classmates he’s with were pretty friendly (some of them are kinda useless at group presentations though.) The rooms were very nice. He managed to make his dorm feel more like home just about two weeks ago. His roommate wasn’t as bad as he thought he might be. (He’s almost never there. In fact Phichit might have seen him a grand total of six times. Other than that, he had no problem.) He could have gotten worse, he often reasoned with himself. Over all, he might think his decision to study in America was going in smoothly. The only things that’s been an issue so far was the godforsaken weather and the Russian Roulette game between landing on a fun, caring teacher, versus a devil incarnate teacher that thrives on the suffering of their students.

Phichit did not enjoy dealing with his previous professors. (Phichit learned that the devil is not, in fact a he, but was actually a she. And she goes by the name Lilia Baronovskaya.) Anyway long story short, Phichit was not exactly lucky with his professors last semester. This semester though, he’s hoping he could get a really awesome and caring one at best, to mildly indifferent at worse.

Basically, from what Phichit had heard, the one he had to worry the most for this semester was organic chemistry.

There were only two people worth noting, anybody other than that would mean tranquil waters.

His safest bet was professor Cialdini. He was a lax teacher. In fact, he’s often out if town and classes under him were often cancelled. Though gives out good grades easily, you’ll hardly learn anything this semester. If all you wanted was to pass, then this was the right place for you.

Then there’s professor Katsuki.

He was the newly accepted professor from the previous semester and there’s little to no information about him. There wasn’t enough data to make a definite opinion of how he really is. Some people say he’s too strict, too serious. He was often seen glaring at everything he ever looks at. His dark eyes were things of nightmares and nobody had ever endured his glare. You do not want him as a panelist for your thesis presentation. Also, do not upset him in your first day.

Phichit had to admit the new professor was pretty intimidating, but so long as it was not Baronovskaya, Phichit would take it anytime. Phichit was not actually ready to go through the ninth circle of hell right after he crawled out of it. He barely passed last semester and he’d fought tooth and nail for that barely passing grade but he’s perfectly convinced that nobody can get any worse than her.

Now here he was sitting in organic chemistry, waiting for what could be his salvation or damnation.

Ten minutes passed. People were slowly packing up their stuff, ready to go home after the fifteen minute mark.

Twelve minutes.

Their professor was still nowhere to be seen. The only guy who arrived was the latecomer in a hoodie and a black backpack who entered the room with long purposeful strides. He was sweaty, obviously trying not to get late on his first day. Lucky for him the professor wasn’t around yet.

“Hey nerd! Maybe you wanna chill a bit? The prof isn’t even here yet.” Some guy at the back teased. He looked brash and loud, the regular asshole stereotype. His lackeys laughed even though there wasn’t anything really funny. Yes, the man was starting to play the role of the arrogant bastard in those cliché Hollywood movies.

The hoodie dude stared at the guy, his eyes were dark and cutting, just a little bit annoyed. Somehow Phichit had a bad feeling about it.

The hoodie guy ignored the remark and instead placed his bag down, uncapped a whiteboard marker he apparently had been keeping in his pocket, and wrote on the board in a neat script.

Professor Yuuri Katsuki, Organic Chemistry I

Phichit could see the arrogant bastard’s face slowly pale at every letter added on the board.

Professor Katsuki turned back and looked the man in the eye, in which the man ended up standing rigid in place.

“Now that you all know my name I believe we can start by looking over what we will be discussing over the semester. We shall also discuss my criteria in grading. That way you will know if you will fail by the end of the semester.” Professor Katsuki never left his gaze from the man, making sure to look at him especially at the word fail.

Phichit then understood what the rest meant when they said professor Katsuki was someone you didn’t want to piss off.

“I think I’m going to flunk organic chemistry.” Phichit mumbled as they met up with his friends for lunch.

“Who did you get?” Guang-Hong piped up from beside Leo.

“Katsuki.” Phichit burrowed his face in his face in his arms.

Leo patted his head in consolation. “There there. I’m sure he’s not that bad.”

Phichit responded with a groan. “He gave us a test in our first day. I failed gloriously.”

Guang-Hong and Leo smiled at him with sympathy. “Maybe he’s not actually that scary. He’s just mysterious and people fear things they don’t understand, see?” Ah that’s Guang-Hong’s wise words for you.

“I like Katsuki.” Was the first thing Seung-gil said the entire lunch break.

“Of course you do. You’re almost alike.” Phichit moaned his miseries. “Plus you’re pretty smart. There’s no way he could fail you.”

Seung-gil shrugged and continued to eat his lunch. It wasn’t quite helping Phichit’s case. Maybe it was time to accept that he was just unlucky with his professors.

“Anyway, any of you want to hang out in my place later? We could binge FMA.” Phichit’s pretty sure his roommate won’t mind. He hadn’t seen the man in weeks now. Their schedules just never seemed to match.

“Yeah, I’m down for some alchemy action. I’ll bring drinks.” Guang-Hong grinned.

“Hey! I’ll bring popcorn. Seung-gil wanna come?” Leo asked.

When the Korean nodded without much protest, they let out a big whoop of excitement.

“Great! Let me set it up.” Phichit decided to forget about organic chem for now. That’s a problem for his future self.

No matter how much Phichit wanted to dislike professor Katsuki, he really couldn’t find it in him. He taught his material well. In fact, Phichit had learned more about organic chemistry under the man than any other professor. He actually understood what he was doing…most of the time.

The only problem was that he’s very particular with their lab experiments. That, and it didn’t change the fact that he was scary and intimidating as fuck. Nobody knew anything about him and his life outside class, not even the other teachers.(Some guys tried to ask professor Cialdini about him. Even he was unable to answer anything remotely interesting.)

There a few things one would know from Professor Katsuki and Phichit had made a list:

1.) He’s often mistaken as a kid despite being on his mid-twenties or something.

2.) He loves worn down hoodies and is not exactly helping the case above.

3.) He’s hella freakin smart

Phichit thinks number three was already obvious. The way he talked about his subject sounded so professional and yet it’s understandable, stripped to the basics unlike pretentious people who cannot explain things in layman terms. Phichit appreciates that he’s open to questions and would answer them in the easiest possible way. Although, asking him kinda does need some courage. The glare also seem to soften when he’s discussing. It’s subtle but there.

They just discovered about a fourth on the list though. That was when they managed to cram two and a half lesson in less than two meetings.

4.) He hates wasting time.

Everything was on the rush under professor Katsuki, but it was a calculated rush. You can miss any other subject, all but organic chemistry with professor Katsuki. On one hand, they actually made good use of their textbook and it was not bought for nothing. In fact, they were nearly half way. On the other hand, the stress of one session was killing them all. Phichit’s brain was on fire. His mind says doctor but his heart screams rice farmer in the rural areas of Thailand.

Phichit wanted to think he cared about his students despite the outer persona he shows, the strict teacher. Someone did fall asleep in front of him while he was discussing about acid-base chemistry. Everybody sucked in their breath when they saw him approach the unknowing student. Nobody dared move. The sound of Mizuno rubber shoes (yes Mizuno, everything he owns are slapped with Mizuno labels.) on tiled floors felt so loud as he walked towards the unsuspecting Emil Nekola.

“Mr. Nekola.” He nudged his shoulder gently. He was responded with a groan. He tried again. “Mr. Nekola.” Still a groan. He turned to the person beside him with a sigh. “Please take him to the nurse’s office,” He said. “I’d rather you take absence than to get sick.”

The person next to him nodded and immediately helped to bring Nekola to the clinic.

“I know I asked you to limit your absences from this class at the first day, but do not compromise your health for this. It’s pointless when you can’t even absorb what I’m discussing about. It’s a waste of time. Rest is being productive too. I am more than willing to give you extra time to catch up when you’re sick.” He said. Phichit then thought, maybe he wasn’t really that bad. Maybe he just needed a little warming up.

“Now,” The professor continued. “We still have to answer three worksheets before the period ends and I will let you bring home two more to be checked next meeting.”

The class groaned. One glare from Katsuki and they immediately shut up.

“The man is a taskmaster.” Phichit threw his bag haphazardly on the floor as he opened the door. “I give up. I’m going to be a rice farmer in the outskirts of Thailand. Maybe a goatherd in the Swiss Alps. That way nobody will bother me.”

Seung-gil, Guang-Hong, and Leo were waiting for him in his dorm room. Surprisingly it was left open. Maybe his roommate forgot to lock it? Nothing seemed to be missing though, thankfully. But Phichit would’ve wanted to talk to his roommate about safety.

Phichit glanced at the TV screen and yelped when he realized the opening sequence was already playing. Haikyuu was on the screen.

“Hey! Don’t start without me you little shits.” Phichit kicked off his shoes and shoved Leo to scoot over the bed. Guang-Hong giggled and Seung-gil just groaned.

“Weebs.” Phichit rolled his eyes, squeezing between Guang-Hong and Seung-gil.

“You’re a weeb too. Shut up.” Leo snorted. Phichit smacked him in the face with his pillow. Leo retaliated.

They all paused when the door opened and a tall pale man with long braided blond hair entered the room.

“Oh.” Was what he said. It was Phichit’s roommate.

“Hey. You don’t mind me having people over…right?” Phichit asked with hesitation. The guy was wearing this deep scowl that somehow reminds Phichit of someone.

The guy looked over where the four of them were sitting. Then to the TV screen.

“Is that Haikyuu?” He asked, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Yeah.” Phichit shuffled uncomfortably. What was it with the people around him and their intensity? It didn’t help that he was wearing a leopard print leather jacket and had the heaviest Russian-like accent as if he was a bond villain. The man slid his gaze back to Phichit in a disenchanted way with grace that only he could possibly do. Tension. There was this invisible tension in the room.

“Whatever. Do whatever you want.” The guy said after picking up his bag and leaving the room as quickly as he came.

When they were sure he already left, the four let out a deep exhale. Seriously, talk about intense people.

“Hey, have you heard? There’s going to be a fire drill tomorrow.” Leo said in an attempt to bring back the fun atmosphere from a while ago.

“Uh…really?” Phichit mumbled, distracted.

Fire drills mean cancelled classes. So long as it doesn’t fall on organic chemistry, it’s all going to fine.

“Midterms is fast approaching,” Professor Katsuki started. “We’ll try doing this as fast as we can. The exam is a collaboration between the other professors and you might miss some items because we haven’t discussed it.”

Just as he started writing on the board, the fire alarm went off.

“Fuck.” Katsuki hissed. His eyes narrowed into slits as he ran a hand through his hair. He stared at the class, which everyone averted.

“Let’s pretend we didn’t hear that.” He decided and continued writing on the board. The class continued taking down notes that was, until the door opened and professor Cialdini entered.

“Dr. Katsuki, we-”

He paused, staring at professor Katsuki who only stared back. A quiet conversation was exchanged between the two until professor Cialdini merely nodded and left the room without any other word.

There were two things that registered to Phichit and so he added to the list of things he knew about professor Katsuki:

4.) Professor Katsuki had finished his PhD. Otherwise he wouldn’t be called doctor.

5.) His deadly stare could bring down even professor Cialdini.

There were distinct noises outside. A familiar sharp female voice was giving a rather long lecture. Phichit knew that berating voice all too well.

It was professor Baronovskaya. She was not pleased.

Professor Cialdini reentered the room, stared at Katsuki with remorse. This time Professor Katsuki sighed.

“Okay. Since we won’t be able to discuss this, I will hold a tutorial this Saturday. Anybody can sit in. We can discuss the things you didn’t understand too. For now please form two lines and proceed to safety.”

Phichit added another one to the list and somehow this added some sort of comfort inside him.

6.) Even Katsuki isn’t exempted from Baronovskaya’s wrath.

Phichit started searching professor Katsuki’s social media once more. (A lot had tried and a lot had failed. Phichit is one of them too.) Either he lived his life as a hermit and didn’t own any SNS or it was in Japanese because there really was nothing.

On the other hand, searching for Yuuri Katsuki on Google can produce a lot of different articles, mostly thesis dissertations and research proposals. His name appears on different news articles too, albeit it was all in Japanese so there was no way to understand it.

Either way, Phichit added a couple more to his list:

7.) The man was currently twenty seven years old and he received his doctorate just last year.

8.) Dr. Katsuki was a famous name in the world of academia.

9.) The man was hecking smart.

The man published books. He was highly acclaimed. Phichit really shouldn’t be dumbstruck, but he was. He shut his laptop with a resolute sigh just as the door suddenly burst open and the same blond man entered, except his hair was in a bun now and he was wearing a comfortable sweater instead of the tacky leopard print jacket he wore last time. He didn’t really bother with any greetings, he just took off his shoes and dived face first onto the mattress, probably to pass out.

“I don’t really get why you’re here after being missing for the entire semester.” Phichit stared at the figure laying on the bed. The sudden presence of his roommate had thrown him off balance.

“The Old Man’s probably fucking the pig as we speak.” He said as if that answered everything. It only left Phichit with more questions. He kept fidling with his phone. All his stuff were cat themed. Even the sweatshirt he was wearing and the leather jacket he had last time was cheetah printed.

“…right.” Phichit tried to continue with his essay. Keyword: tried. He ended up glancing back to the man.

“Spit it out.” He snapped. He put down his phone and glared at him, irritated.

“What do you mean?” Phichit averted his gaze.

“You have questions. Ask away. I can hear you thinking from here and it’s fucking annoying.“ He rolled his eyes.

"Uhm…I don’t really know your name.”

“Huh?!” His scowl deepened. “It’s Yuri Plisetsky. And you are?”

“Phichit Chulanont. Why are you always out anyway?”

“I don’t like the shitty dorm. The pig’s apartment is better plus there’s free food. Even if he and the Old Man are gross all the time.” He crossed his arm across his chest. “The stupid rules needed foreign students to have dorms at least in their first year. Well at least I can get away when I don’t want to hear those two being all nasty.”

Phichit nodded with sympathy. He could remember when his sister would bring her boyfriend back in Thailand. He never got to sleep at night.

Yuri’s phone rang. A scowl returned to his face when he picked up the call. “Hey Old Man. Da.”

Phichit did not understand the next conversation. It was spoken in rapid fire Russian. Or at least it sounded Russian. Plisetsky sounded Russian. Yuri looked like he was cursing whoever was on the other end.

Somehow the call ended and Yuri tossed his phone on the bed with frustration. “Guess like I’m sleeping here.”

“Well…wanna watch something?” Phichit asked. “I could set up Netflix and watch. Or whatever you wanna watch anyway. Your pick.”

Yuri peeked at Phichit. “…do you watch My Hero Academia?”

Phichit felt his lips immediately stretch into a grin. “You came to the right place buddy.”

“Awesome,” Yuri sat up. “Put that shit on.”

Phichit had a good feeling about a new friendship that’s about to bloom.

It had been raining hard that day. Phichit was trying to find shelter from the rain when he noticed a figure crouching on the sidewalk.

Upon closer inspection it was actually Dr. Katsuki and he seemed to be coaxing something out of the corner of the dumpster.

Phichit tried not to think about it until it was time for organic chemistry and Dr. Katsuki arrived seven minutes late and drenched with the rain. He was splattered with mud and he was dripping from head to toe, except he didn’t really seemed to notice.

He carefully set his backpack on the floor instead of his table, his eyed narrowed at the class.

“Sorry I was late. Got caught on…something… Yeah.” Which totally sounded the least bit suspicious. He started writing on the whiteboard when..

Yip.

He paused and stood rigidly. Then he seemed to pay it no mind, continued writing with hard determination.

Yip yip.

There it was again.

Then the sound of shuffling and whimpering were heard, followed by scratching. The class didn’t dare breath or move as Dr. Katsuki turned to them and narrowed his eyes into slits as if suspicious.

Yip yip yip.

More scratching.

A bated breath.

Dr. Katsuki sighed. He picked up his black backpack with an expression almost akin to that of a kid caught eating cookies he was strictly told not to.

What came out of the bag elicited a surprised gasp.

It was a white fluffy dog that poked its head out of the bag, tongue lolling out, and he had the most adorable dark eyes ever.

The class lost their shit. There were students who whipped out their phones and started to take pictures, others were cooing from its cuteness. Some were just whispering among themselves.

Phichit then realized what the man was crouching on the pavement for. Plus the dog looked newly groomed and treated. He must have spent his break period cleaning it.

“Everybody settle down.” Katsuki commanded.

The commotion died down in an instant. His power over crowds was still a bit overwhelming.

“Don’t mind the dog. Just..just… Let it do its thing.” He said softly.

It was admittedly hard to focus when there’s a ball of fluff walking around the room, demanding pets. Nobody’s complaining though. It was quite adorable to see it climb over Dr. Katsuki’s desk and the former patiently taking him down to the floor, only for it to do it all over again.

Somehow, Dr. Katsuki got tired of this and decide to just carry the dog while he continued his lecture. He brought up the dog in level to his face. The dog happily licked his cheek, which apparently was a shock to him because he turned bright pink as he mumbled. “Yamette-kodasai.” The dog yipped once more as if in agreement. It was more than willing to be carried and tucked in the front pocket of Dr. Katsuki’s hoodie.

10.) Dogs like him

So there’s an intimidating man perpetually glaring while holding a white fluffy puppy as he went on to talk about carboxylic acids and derivatives.

It was a funny sight. Phichit made sure to take a pic. It made him less… Scary. Because if dogs trusted him, people can too, right?

Dr. Katsuki didn’t look bothered though. In fact, there’s a telltale upturn on his lips, just a small twinkle in his eyes.

11.) He likes dogs too.

“I swear though, they don’t give class B enough screentime."

This had been a ritual of some sorts. Every Friday night, they try to catch up on their shows in Phichit’s dorm. It’s the only one with a TV see. Sometimes they play Mario Kart when they have extra time.

On screen, Bakugou was held hostage by the villains.

"I’d let Dabi kick me in the face and I’d still thank him for it.” Phichit commented. The others nodded in agreement.

“That guy…” Yuri gestured at the screen. It was Shigaraki, a man with a hand for a mask. Why his mask was shaped like a hand, no one knew. He creepily calls it ‘father’ an all that jazz. “I don’t like that guy. He’s a fucking brat.”

They were surprised when the Russian opted to stay and watch with them. He was often out, but quite recently, he’d been around the dorm.

The two lovebirds probably want to do it at every inch of the apartment now that they’ve officially managed to settle down. Yuri once said with a shudder. I can’t look at the kitchen, the dining table and the couch the same way again.

Apparently he’s walked in on them a couple of times and they still got no shame. So now he’s trying to avoid any of those awkward encounters by staying more in the dorms.

“Reminds you of someone?” Phichit snickered.

Guang-Hong smiled. “He does sound like Yuri, doesn’t he?”

Yuri snarled. “He doesn’t sound like me! And I don’t scratch my neck like a creep when I’m angry. Everything about him screams creepy!”

“True. Personally, Yuri is more similar with Bakogou, personality wise.” Leo shrugged.

Yuri responded with a hiss. Strangely, Yuri fitted right in the group easily. At first there was some awkwardness between them, but in the end he was just a big of a weeb as they were.

This time the screen played Aizawa on a bun and clean shaven, bespoke in a suit.

“Daddy.” Phichit sighed. The others grunted in response.

“That Aizawa dude reminds me of the Old Man," Yuri squinted at the screen. "I can’t explain it. He acts nothing like him. He looks nothing like him too. But…he just does.” Yuri gesticulated in frustration. “It’s like that Tokoyami guy. He reminds me of Beka you know? I don’t even know why.”

This Beka, apparently was Yuri’s best friend from Kazakhstan. How that friendship managed to work, they didn’t know and frankly they were too afraid to ask.

“I totally get you my dude,” Leo started. “Eiji from Banana Fish reminds me of Seung-gil and they’re nothing alike. Seung-gil’s too dead inside to be Eiji.”

“We don’t talk about Banana Fish.” Guang-Hong wailed.

“Why? The first few episodes were great!” Phichit wondered.

“Anime only don’t get to say anything.” Guang-Hong hissed.

“Speaking of anime only. The next season of MHA is going to hurt like a bitch.” Seung-gil talked for the first time in the entire time they were there.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Yuri growled. “The pig’s already all smug for reading the manga! I don’t need another one!”

They laughed. This was normal now, Yuri complaining about those two parental figures. (Yuri threw a fit when Phichit suggested that they sounded much like his parents as if the very idea insulted him. That just convinced him otherwise.) Phichit never really asked for names, he respected Yuri’s privacy. Although there were times where he did wonder who they were. Whoever they were, Phichit hoped they staryed obliviously married as Yuri said.

It was an accident. He was on his way back to the dorm because he forgot his scientific calculator, and god forbid he forgets his calculator on a calculus exam.

On his way back he heard two voices arguing on the hallway.

“-don’t tell me you already bought it.” One of the voices groaned. Phichit recognized it as Dr. Katsuki’s.

“…I won’t tell you that then?” The second voice sounded sheepish but not exactly sorry. It had an accent, Phichit couldn’t pinpoint where.

“Oh my god Vitya.” Dr. Katsuki exclaimed. He then launched into a smattering of Japanese and…Russian? His companion answered in kind. His companion must be Russian then. Or somewhere Slavic. He never really could tell the difference.

Phichit couldn’t understand whatever they were talking about, but he could see that Dr. Katsuki was pretty upset with this Vitya guy.

He couldn’t see who he was talking to though. He did catch a glimpse of silver hair.

He hurried off before he became late for calculus and before he could find out how that encounter ended in. It was also pretty rude to eavesdrop in a conversation where he was obviously not invited in. Phichit did, somehow manage to add another fact in his list:

12.) He can speak fluent Russian.

When Saturday rolled around, Dr. Katsuki seemed just a tad bit pissed. Well…more pissed than usual. But he did explain the material better and he actually paid attention on every single student who needed help.

Phichit was just a tad bit confident that he could pass this thing. Just a tiny bit confident.

It didn’t really change the fact that he was scarier than usual. Just as they thought he wasn’t as bad as they first thought. But Dr. Katsuki looked so out of it. He looked sad. Or angry. Or maybe both. In the end though, he just seemed resigned. More often you would find him stealing a glance at his phone and then looking away as if reprimanding himself.

Phichit didn’t know why this bothered him so much, but it just did. He thought back to what he overheard the other day and wondered if this was related to that.

“Stupid pig. Stupid Old Man.” Yuri stormed the dorm irritated and slammed the door.

“What happened?” Phichit woke up with a start. His organic chem notes still scattered over his desk. He noticed Yuri’s usual braided hair was left loose like a waterfall to his back. He still look good, maybe just a bit off, a little unkempt.

“They’re fighting. The Old Man won’t stop moping and the pig won’t give him a chance. He kicked the Old Man to the couch. He’s probably sleeping in my bed right now.” Yuri grumbled and flopped on his bed. He kicked off his shoes without any care about where they fell on. "I cooked dinner for them! And what? The only thing the pig uttered was to pass the salt. That’s it. Nothing.“

"That’s rough.” Phichit kept his notes. He was startled when he realized how late it was. He should be studying for his midterms tomorrow, but that could wait. He shook the sleepiness away.

“It’s been days and they still aren’t talking to each other! Damn it why are they so bad at communication?! This is worse than when they were fucking each other senseless.” Yuri groaned.

“You sound like you really care about…whoever you are talking about.” Phichit said in jest. His filter wasn’t exactly the best when he just woke up.

Yuri was silent. Phichit had expected him to deny it or lash out for even having the guts to insinuate he cared for those…whoever those two oblivious idiots with the communication problem were. But instead, Yuri, very quietly, said: “Yeah…I do."

Phichit had never seen so much sincerity shown in three words as he had seen reflected from those green eyes. Phichit couldn’t help but smile.

"A-anyway. Yeah…you didn’t hear that from me.” Yuri remembered himself and pink started to dust his cheeks. He looked adorable, like a little kitten. He cleared his throat to recompose himself. “We’re gonna binge watch some Cell’s at Work because fuck Biology."

"Mood. Organic chem sucks.”

It was finally midterms. Phichit entered the testing room with all information crammed in his head, caffeine running in his bloodstream and hysteria on his nerves.

Dr. Katsuki looked just as dead as the rest of the students. It was painful to watch. The usual sharpness of his eyes were nonexistent. It was replaced with dullness, as if he hardly slept in days.

He looked so tired. His hair was uncombed and he was pale as death.

“Everybody take your seats.” His voice was very very quiet. Phichit slid into his seat.

“You have an hour to finish the exam. Questions about the exam will not be entertained unless it is a technical problem. Timer begins now.”

Phichit took that out of his system for now and focused on taking the test.

He took one look at Dr. Katsuki before writing.

Phichit passed his answer sheet with a spark of confidence that he will pass.

Just as he left the room though, he noticed a man leaning outside the testing room with a serious face. He had silver hair and blue eyes. He was subjectively handsome, Phichit figured he had this charisma on a regular day.

But today, he looked grim. Perhaps he looked remorseful. Phichit can’t help but be intrigued.

When the last student left the room, the man entered the testing room with determination.

Curiosity got the better of him and Phichit peeked just a little bit.

“Vitya.”

He heard Dr. Katsuki’s sharp inhale, the man was looking at him face to face. He couldn’t see Dr. Katsuki’s expression, but this Vitya guy looked ready to break.

“Yuuri. I’m-”

Unexpectedly, Dr. Katsuki hugged Vitya and didn’t look like he was ready to let go anytime soon. Vitya gasped and then he was sobbing on his shoulder. Phichit knew then he was watching something too personal. He slowly backed away, but the image will always replay in his mind for the rest of the day.

Yuri was blushing when he entered the dorm that evening and stormed directly for a shower. He said he needed to bleach his eyes after what he saw.

Phichit raised a glass of red bull for Yuri’s disgusting lovebirds. He would assume that a.) They finally made up, and b.) Yuri walked in on them once more.

Dr. Katsuki entered the room with this fresh look. It was almost as if he was blooming, as if the past gloomy days never happened. He looked like…like…

…Like he just got laid.

None of them commented on his sexed up bed head nor the obvious hickey on his neck. There’s this subtle awestruck look in his eyes, a certain dazed shine in his face, a dopey contentment in his posture. Of course these were subtle things you’ll only find when you really look for it. It did

Dr. Katsuki cleared his throat. “Class. Well done on your midterms. I’ve graded them this weekend and I’m happy to tell you that this class has the highest passing rate among the other classes. Congratulations.”

There was a burst of excited chatter among the room. You can hear relieved sighs at the receiving their test papers. That fell short when someone knocked on the door.

“Delivery for Dr. Katsuki-N.” The man said, holding a giant bouquet of blue roses. Blue roses. Someone actually paid enough to have them dyed blue.

The professor’s expression shifted from shock, to absolute horror, to sheer embarrassment in a matter of seconds.

“Are you Dr. Katsuki-N?” The delivery man asked. Dr. Katsuki rubbed his face, exasperated and annoyed but also resigned as if he knew one day he would be faced by a gigantic bouquet of roses in his class.

“Just mister Katsuki would do.” He signed the slip and received the roses for him. After the whole ordeal, Dr. Katsuki set the bouquet on his desk.

“So uhh…” He cleared his throat once more. “Don’t mind that. Please open your textbooks to page two hundred fifty two, and if you’ll excuse me I have to make a call.”

He exited the room with haste that everyone else was left in confusion. If you listen carefully though, you can hear exasperated Japanese from the outside.

Everybody was having a field day.

“I swear man. That was so weird.” Phichit explained as they ate lunch at a cafe near the campus. It was raining hard so they weren’t able to eat by the quad like they usually do so they rode Leo’s car and drove here. “I think Dr. Katsuki is just misunderstood.” He paused, deliberating. “Or all he needed was to get laid.”

“Phichit!” Guang-Hong blushed. It was pretty entertaining to see the Chinese become so flustered despite being old enough to actually talk about these things.

“I take it that organic chem is going well.” Leo sipped from his cola.

“Seung-gil was right. Dr. Katsuki isn’t that bad.”

Seung-gil looked smug. The slight upturn on his lips being the only giveaway.

“Still though, before that happened, I managed to overhear Dr. Katsuki arguing with this silver haired man he apparently calls "Vitya”. Then at midtems, they kinda…made up? Then awhile ago Dr. Katsuki got a bouquet of roses.“ Phichit mused out loud. "Could it be that this silver haired guy is Dr. Katsuki’s boyfriend?”

“You don’t even know if he’s into men.” Seung-gil finished his lunch.

“Tsk. Don’t assume everyone is straight Seung-gil.” Phichit snickered. “Besides he doesn’t feel straight to me and boi is my gaydar almost always correct. This is why we’re friends after all.”

“Actually you collected all the weebs and and decided ‘they’re mine now’ and that’s that.” Leo deadpanned.

“Hey, isn’t that Dr. Katsuki?” Guang-Hong pointed at the man across the street, taking refuge from the downpour while scrolling through his phone. He seemed to be waiting for the rain to stop. He had his signature hoodie cover his hair. . “Maybe he needs a ride, should we offer him to join us?”

Turned out he didn’t need a ride though, because someone just tackled him from behind. Dr. Katsuki yelped in surprise, or it seemed like it. They couldn’t hear what was happening from the downpour and from the glass window separating them.

“That’s him! That’s the man!” Phichit gasped. Dr. Katsuki was now berating the man for causing them both to get soaked. The man didn’t look the slightest bit remorseful, he just sported a rather wide and bright grin to an annoyed Dr. Katsuki. Dr. Katsuki flicked the man’s forehead in response.

“Isn’t that professor Nikiforov though?” Guang-Hong squinted at them.

“Professor Nikiforov?”

“Yeah he teaches literature I think? Like he caused a commotion last semester when he first entered? Because a lot of students would sit in his classes without actually being enrolled and the poor guy just couldn’t ask them to leave. And we all know they weren’t actually there to learn about history.” Leo explained. “Where were you last semester?”

“Probably dying from the she-devil.” Phichit groaned. Professor Baronovskaya basically took one look at the class and decided she wanted to consume the souls out of them all.

“Anyway. I think it makes sense that they’re friends. They seem to have entered the university the same time.” Leo said as they watch Dr. Katsuki pick up the umbrella Professor Nikiforov dropped after tackling him from behind. Katsuki huffed, professor Nikiforov took the umbrella and wrapped an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder before walking away.

“Yes, just two bros sharing an umbrella, under the rain, no space apart cause they’re not gay.” Phichit snorted. His phone pinged with a notification which drew him away from the scene.

“It’s a text from Yuri.” Phichit said. “He says he can’t come later because he’s spending it with the idiots.”

“No Yuri today?” Guang-Hong mused. “I kinda miss his swears. Especially when we play Mario Kart.”

“It be like that sometimes.” Phichit said. “Anyway, who wants to re watch One Punch Man?”

Since their grades actually got better after the whole tutroial thing before midterms, Dr. Katsuki decided to keep it going until finals.

“Let’s meet in this cafe next Saturday. Just tell them you’re under my class. They’ll know.”

Apparently all the other lecture rooms were taken for the week so they had no choice but to relocate.

The first thing Phichit noticed was the blue framed glassed perched on Dr. Katsuki’s nose when he arrived next Saturday as he sat on the second floor of the cafe, the smell of green tea wafting from the cup Dr. Katsuki ordered. Phichit made sure to be at least a thirty minutes earlier than the agreed time because his friends were busy with their own studies and he had nothing better to do yet. However the Japanese apparently got here even earlier. He was reading a V.K.N novel, this year’s bestselling novel from an author whose face was never revealed. He was deeply concentrated, brows knitted together, but also he looked content, tranquil. Colored highlighters were on the table and the book was filled with sticky notes.

Phichit didn’t know what to do. His other classmates weren’t around yet. (Fashionably late they say) so he was alone with him for probably an hour or so.

Dr. Katsuki probably noticed his presence hovering around and looked up from his book.

“Mr. Chulanont.” He said. It wasn’t the first time he as addressed by the doctor, but it was the first time without his classmates around. Phichit was a little out of his element.

“Dr. Katsuki.”

“Just mister Katsuki is fine,” He replied, closing the book as he did so. “Dr. Katsuki sounds so formal.” It was so casual. Too casual.

For someone claimed to be a very outgoing extrovert, he’s having a hard time talking now. Well, that was until he saw his bookmark.

“You watch My Hero Academia too?” It was of Midoriya Izuku holding a bowl of Katsudon.

Dr. Katsuki’s lips turned to that akin to a smile. “Yes, and I read the manga too.”

“Nooo! No spoilers! Everyone’s saying season four will hurt!’ Phichit wailed. Katsuki nodded solemnly.

"Trust me it will.” Katsuki took a long sip from his green tea. “Plus there’s not enough Tododeku moments.”

Phichit gasped. “You ship them too?"

"Obviously. Intellectuals don’t watch season two and not ship them.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes.

“Wow. Where were you all my life?” Phichit breathed because wow, this man was nothing at all like what he first expected.

“Dying somewhere else probably.” He quipped back. Somehow some professor are just about your age in college and it’s jarring like that. Phichit can’t seem to fathom this. If he told his classmates, they probably wouldn’t believe him.

13.) He likes anime

“Yuuri!” Someone called. “Solnyshko, have you seen my-oh.”

It was professor Nikiforov in all his gilded splendor. Seeing him up close kinda explained why he caused so much trouble in his first semester.

“Hi! Are you one of Yuuri’s student’s?” He asked, beaming with charm. His mouth is shaped like a heart when he smiles. He reached out a hand. “I’m Victor Nikiforov, it’s nice to meet one of Yuuri’s students. He talks about all of you often.”

Dazed, Phichit can only nod and shake the man’s hand. “Phichit Chulanont. It’s nice to meet you too professor Nikiforov.”

“Wow! Does Yuuri talk about me too?” He look absolutely delighted. His eyes sparkled.

“They probably knew you as that guy who was followed around a lot last sem.” Dr. Katsuki snickered. “Creepy stalkers still keeps me awake at times.”

“They weren't stalkers Yuuri. They were just students.” Professor Nikiforov insisted.

“Whatever you say Vitya."

"I spy someone jealous.”

“Mhm, sure you do."

Phichit realized how different he acted outside of the classroom with less people and a more comfortable setting. Especially with Professor Nikiforov. He seemed most comfortable with him. He wasn’t glaring anymore, his eyes were full of life. Phichit thought it suited him.

"Aren’t you supposed to be doing something else right now Mr. Nikiforov?” Dr. Katsuki told the professor.

“Oh right right. Anyway I think those are some of your students downstairs. I’ll tell them to go up.” He left them and hurried downstairs. “I’ll also ask for the do not disturb sign so nobody goes upstairs.” Professor Nikiforov yelled from the stairs.

“Spasibo!” Dr. Katsuki yelled back.

Phichit’s classmate started filling in the second floor, Dr. Katsuki became busy accommodating them and they weren’t able to talk further. He can see though that Dr. Katsuki was way different with the Russian than when with his students. He didn’t know where their relationship stands, and in all honesty Phichit never knew he was about to consider this but.

He ships them.

“Oi, you have plans this weekend?”

Yuri suddenly asked in the middle of studying. His notes on Biology was so cute. It had little Cell’s at Work doodles. Yuri turned bright pink when Phichit teased him about it.

“No not really.” Phichit stopped highlighting stuff. (He was randomly highlighting words. It’s almost twelve and he hasn’t crammed everything he needed to for his exam on history.) “Why what’s up?”

Yuri’s brows turned into a scowl. Not the pissed scowl, the one where he’s too embarrassed to say something.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

Phichit stared at Yuri.

“Are you asking me on a date Yuri Plisetsky?” Phichit cackled. Yuri flushed red and threw his biology book at him. It him right in the face but damn was it worth it.

“No!” He screeched. “The Old Man and the Pig wants me to bring friends for dinner because it’s my birthday because I thought you assholes weren’t so bad! But apparently I was wrong so if that’s how you wanna go then you’re fucking uninvited you mother fucker! Blyad!”

“Yuri No,” Phichit wheezed out. “I’d love to meet your parents.”

“They’re not my parents! Why are we even friends?!” He groaned, throwing another thick hardbound book. Thankfully, Phichit managed to dodge it this time.

“Seriously! Chill! You’re like a sibling slash kitten to me. Dating you would be so weird.” Phichit was still laughing even when Yuri attempted to strangle him. “Did you tell Guang-Hong, Leo and Seung-gil?” He managed to choke out after his laughter dying.

“I did. Seung-gil’s busy with a project, Leo needs to study for an exam and Guang-Hong has part time. I understand if you’re busy though.” Yuri said softly. He refused to look at Phichit as he said it.

“Aww Yuri. Don’t worry about it. I’m free this weekend.” Phichit reassured.

“Really?” His eyes widen in anticipation.

“Yeah. Let’s go meet mom and dad!” Tears rolled down Phichit’s cheeks as Yuri’s face morphed into absolute anger.

Phichit might have deserved getting smacked in the face with a seven hundred pages worth hard bound chemistry book.

Totally worth it though.

Phichit was sure he saw Dr. Katsuki by a corridor with professor Nikiforov. He was also sure he didn’t just imagine Dr. Katsuki slowly reaching up to press a quick kiss on professor Nikiforov’s lips before retreating away.

Poor professor Nikiforov was left, absolutely stunned and was blushing hard. It took him a good couple of minutes before he realized what actually transpired and his shocked face morphed into a dopey grin.

Phichit sung praises to the heavens.

“So this is where you go when you’re not in the dorm. It’s pretty near the campus.”

It was Friday afternoon and the pair had arrived to Yuri’s apartment. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but Phichit can tell it was slightly more expensive than what was the average man’s salary.

“Yeah. I didn’t really want a dorm. But I guess I’m glad I did.” Yuri opened the door. They were immediately greeted by a massive ball of brown fluff.

“Makkachin! Down!” Yuri commanded. The poodle obeyed his command, but not before licking his face. There was another dog. It was Whits and fluffy and…familiar. He felt a shiver down his spine.

Phichit knew that dog!

“Yurio! Okaeri.”

Phichit whipped his head to the source of the voice so fast, he could’ve gotten a whiplash.

Standing in front of him was none other than professor Nikiforov himself, wearing a sweater an apron just like any regular person. It felt so…wrong.

“Y-you!” Phichit gasped.

“Oh? Mr. Chulanont? What a surprise!” Professor Nikiforov flashed his million megawatt smile.

“Wait, you fucking know each other?” Yuri exclaimed.

“Vitya, is that Yura? I-…oh.”

Of course Dr. Katsuki had to follow.

This was a bit awkward. Seeing your organic chemistry teacher in sweat pants and a Fullmetal Alchemist fandom shirt was not part of Phichit’s weekend plan.

He was quite sure being seen in sweat pants and a Fullmetal Alchemist fandom shirt by his student was not part of Dr. Katsuki’s weekend plan.

“Don’t tell me you know who he is too Katsudon.” Yuri scowled.

Phichit was too stunned to wonder why Yuri was calling his professor a pork cutlet bowl, after all that wasn’t the most pressing matter here.

“Dr. Katsuki’s my organic chemistry professor actually.” Phichit managed to say when he finally found his voice. Talk about having a small world.

“He’s the intimidating professor you were talking about before?” Yuri burst out laughing. “Oh yes, how intimidating! It’s almost like he didn’t spend half an hour crying about snakes.”

“They don’t have arms!” Dr. Katsuki blushed. “In my defense I was plastered as fuck by then and I blame Victor for that.”

“What?” The silver haired man gasped in mock indignation, too dramatic too be real. “How could you suspect me of such? Oh my Yuuri so cruel.”

Dr. Katsuki giggled. Phichit was having an out of body experience. He must be dreaming.

“I never would have guessed that the friend little Yura here mentioned was you Mr. Chulanont.” Dr. Katsuki said after they recovered from their laughing fit.

“Please call me Phichit if you don’t mind. And yeah I never would have guessed that you were who Yuri talked about so often.”

That caught professor Nikiforov’s ear. “Yurio talks about us? Do spill.”

“Oh my god! This was a mistake!” Yuri just tossed his hands in the air. “Why does this have to happen on my birthday of all days!” Phichit was quite familiar of this tone. It was often used on complaining about his two idiots love birds…which apparently was his professor.

It kind of struck Phichit that he knew a lot about his professor’s sex life than what was absolutely necessary and he didn’t know what to do with this knowledge. He most especially doesn’t need to know about how he has a thing for bondage and exhibitionism. Or that he could pole dance.

Phichit started to understand Yuri in a more spiritual level.

“Phichit then, please call me Yuuri outside of class. Any friend of Yura’s is a friend of ours.” Dr– Yuuri bowed his head curtly. “Come on dinner is ready.”

Phichit followed them towards the dining table. He tried not think about Yuri’s complaints on seeing them fuck on every single piece of furniture in this house.

He’ll possibly never enter organic chem the same way ever again.

“Please feel at home Phichit. And also call me Victor, that professor nonsense makes me feel old.” Victor started setting up the dining table.

“That’s because you’re old, Old Man. Your hair is thinning.” Yuri stuck out his tongue.

“That’s fine. I’d still love you anyway.” Yuuri kissed the crown of Victor’s head.

Everything was so domestic. In the end it all just kind of fits. Although there was one more thing that bothered him.

“Hold up. So this also mean that both of you are married married?” Phichit burst out. Wow, here he was thinking they simply looked good together. Dr. Katsuki, a weeb and happily gay and married.

Victor and Yuuri looked at him, mildly confused.

“Yes?” Yuuri showed his ring, that for some reasons Phichit wasn’t able to notice. “I wasn’t actually trying to hide it.”

“In Russia, we wear the ring on our right hand. Maybe that’s why people don’t think it’s a wedding ring.” Victor grinned. “Been happily Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov for two years now!”

“Okay then how is it you didn’t add Victor’s last name when you introduced yourself to us?”

“Oh, my Yuuri earned his doctorate, did he not? Seems wrong to have my name slapped with it.” VIctor’s smile widened considerably. “Besides, Dr. Katsuki sounds so much sexier!”

Yuuri sighed. “And yet he insisted to have my initials part in his pen name.”

“Oh but Yuuri! You’re my muse! The reason why those books were written in the first place!”

“Books?”

Yuri blanched at the lovey-dovey display before him. “The old ma may not look like it, but he’s a bestselling author. I think you’ve heard of VKN?”

Phichit didn’t think he could take all the plot twists unraveling before him. What a power couple. The talented bastards.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” Phichit rubbed his head.

“I don’t know about you, but I think Yurio does.”

The doorbell rang, Yuuri got up to open it.

“Beka!” Yuri stood up in shock and immediately hugged the man.

Phichit wanted to sit down from all that was happening. The rest of the evening flew by like a blur. He did add a lot more in his list.

14.) He was gay and happily married.

15.) He was married to Victor Nikiforov, five times consecutive bestselling author.

16.) Yuri Plisetsky is their 'son’. They themselves agreed.

17.) Victor and Yuuri are a power couple and together they can rule the world.

“How the hell did we miss all that?” Guang-Hong mused.

“Seriously the man’s like half blind. He wasn’t glaring, the contacts were irritating his eyes. Stubborn pig didn’t want to buy glasses yet.” Yuri munched on his fries. They started clearing out all of what happened that weekend.

The others were also dumbfounded when they found out. It was good to know Phichit wasn’t the only one.

“You saw the man enter the room with a puppy in his bag and you all still thought he was a murderous criminal?” Yuri was having fun with all this.

“There we’re rumours that he nearly made one of the resident jocks cry. He must be that intense if he actually did.” Leo shrugged.

“Oh yeah he did. The guy was talking shit about being gay.” Yuri explained. “I still find it funny that you found the most anxious ball of nerves, the literal personification of anxiety, as threatening. What a concept.”

“I think I find it funnier that my professor once enrolled in a pole dancing class by mistake and was too shy to back out.” Phichit snorted.

So maybe Phichit was slightly lucky with his professors this sem. Finals came and go and regretfully Phichit had to say goodbye to Dr. Katsuki. But only in class.

They still meet up sometimes when Yuri invites Phichit to their apartment. He also spend most of the holidays there.

And whenever he could hear anybody saying organic Chen with Dr. Katsuki is hell, he’ll give them notes compiled properly, and the list he did over the semester.

#feshnie #awesome-cookies-and-cream #gifts18 #YOIsanta18 #fanfic #phichit chulanont #submission

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strangerealxty · 6 years

Text

Ocs

My OC’s

Name: Charlotte Ruby Campbell (Face Claim Victoria Justice)

Alter Ego: Hatter

Age: 24

Orientation: Bisexual

Backstory: She didn’t have the best life growing up, her brother always overshadowed her in everything. Her parents only cared about him. A/J was a very caring brother, he loved Charlotte very much. They had a good relationship, but her parents never accepted her. Then, something flipped inside her mind. A voice appeared, she called herself Hatter. She told Charlotte what to do….and she did it. She killed her parents and fled the scene. But the police were close behind her. When they found her, she kept sobbing “Hatter made me do it…it’s her fault.” She spent a long while in a mental institution and met her BFF Jupiter there (Visit @prettyperfectpsycho to learn more). Since she had broken, she’s been living undercover for a while. No one has found her….yet.

Likes: dogs, candy, emo music, superheroes, action movies, comedy movies, galaxy print anything, writing, and playing piano.

Dislikes: arrogant people, idiots, being called a psycho, ants

Personality: She is a very sweet girl, but when Hatter takes control, she is very manipulative. She takes pleasure in making others suffer. Charlotte has a breakdown when Hatter lets her have control again when she sees the damage done. She is a trustworthy girl and wants to help people, but Hatter gets in the way.

Name: Elena Phoebe Slyne

Age: 26

Orientation: Lesbian

Background: She grew up in a decent home, there weren’t any complaints from here. She was a straight B student and didn’t really get into trouble. When she came out to her family at the age 16, her parents were outraged. They kicked her out of the house and she was forced to stay with her grandparents. She didn’t mind though, she loved them and they loved her. But, she got bullied a lot when people found out she was gay. But look at her now! She’s a model for magazines and has a great head on her shoulders.

Likes: girls, cats, darker colors, dark makeup, did I mention cat?

Dislikes: Idiots, homophobes, bees, cat haters, zucchini

Personality: She is very, VERY flirtatious. If you’re a girl, she will use sugary pick up lines just to make you blush since she loves it. She is a flirt, but in a relationship, she is very loyal and brave. If anyone disrespects her girl, you’re fuckin dead.

Name: Brenden Christopher Wickson (Face Claim Ethan Nestor)

Age: 22

Orientation: Pansexual

Background: He comes from an abusive home. His father left after he was born and his mother turned to drugs and alcohol. He wasn’t very loved in his household, but he learned to be self sufficient. He and his mom moved around a lot since she needed her fix and she never could afford it. They usually lived with whatever boyfriend she had at the time. Around that time, he had a boyfriend. He needed someone to help him through the pain. But, the boyfriend used him and left, which left Brenden broken. He turned to music as an escape, he began to write songs and listen to a lot of music to cope with his feelings. He also used drawing and painting to calm himself down. When he turned 18, he left for good, but his mother still asks him for money.

Likes: pastel things, his plushie that is a bunny, dogs, shiny things, floral print

Dislikes: loud noises, people yelling, most people, avocados

Personality: He is a very very SMOL boi and very soft. He’s basically a ball of sunshine once you get to know him. He is a very shy boi, but warms up eventually. He won’t trust people easily, you have to earn that. He is very cautious due to his past, but he is trying to better himself. He gets panic attacks easily when he’s by himself with his thoughts or in new places.

Name: Phoenix Rey Aslan (Face Claim Karen Gillan)

Age: 1.492

Orientation: Bisexual

Background: Phoenix is a very bright witch. She once used her spells and potions for evil. She thought she was doing the right thing, but Marvin showed her what was right. He helped to make her use her powers to help people. No one really knows too much about her backstory since she rarely discusses it. You’d have to be someone pretty special to her to find out.

Likes: nature, insects, gold and silver, dogs

Dislikes: liars, arrogant people, small children

Personality: She is a very stubborn girl and has a fiery personality. Stay on her good side and you have a loyal friend for the rest of time. Get on her bad side and you’ll regret it. She is protective over her friends and partners.

Name: Ophelia Raine Winters (Lupita Nyong'o)

Age: ??

Orientation: Pansexual

Background: She was once a fierce warrior from another realm. Unfortunately, her kingdom she served had been turned to ash by a rivaling land. So, she had to find somewhere else to live since she was one of the few who survived the flames. She saved many people there, but still blames herself for not helping more. Ophelia then came to Earth where she resides now, she still has all the guilts from her home.

Likes: weapons (Mainly swords), good hearted people, candy (she didn’t have any in her realm), and dogs

Dislikes: Assholes, crowded places, annoying people

Personality: She is a strong warrior who takes zero shit from anyone. She is an amazing friend and will help anyone in danger. She is very brave and full of wisdom. She can give the best advice and even stab a bitch if she has to. A+ protector.

Name: The Storyteller

Age: ??

Orientation: Bisexual

Background: She comes from another realm, no one really knows when or how she came. That’s all we know about her.

Likes: books, hugs, and cinnamon

Dislikes: loud people, book haters, anyone who dislikes animals

Personality: She has a very dark aura around her. She likes to tell stories to people, even if they don’t want to hear them. She can make them pay attention, almost like the Host. Be careful, she may seem gentle, but she can turn on you in a second.

Name: Strixin Colette Cane

Age: 19

Orientation: Pansexual

Background: Strixin grew up in a somewhat abusive strict household. Her father and mother never let her do her own things. The dictated everything they did and didn’t hesitate to hit her if she was out of place. She found a book in her attic one day and decided to look through it. She soon found out she could cast spells that were listed in the book. In a way, she is sort of a witch.

Likes: bright colors, flowers, purple, rock music

Dislikes: loud noises, yelling, controlling people, peanuts

Personality: Strixin is very energetic and happy all the time. She always wants to make people smile, even though she barely ever did at home. She never wanted anyone to grow up the way she did, so she does her best to help them. Behind her facade of happiness, she really is a broken girl who desperately needs approval and someone to care for her. Hell, Strixin isn’t even her real name…

Name: Jackson Roger Quentin

Age: 25

Orientation: Bisexual

Background: Jackson and Jasper are twins who grew up with a tough life. They were put in foster care at a young age, but were soon kicked out when people found out about their powers. Jackson has power of fire, while Jasper has power of ice and snow. Both may be polar opposites, but they care for each other immensely.

Likes: sunglasses, shitty puns about fire, Star Wars

Dislikes: when people make fun of his brother, doctors (they tried to take his brother away), flies

Personality:

Jackson Quentin- This boy is a hot head in the most literal sense. He is a very confident man who brags about his talent, break him a little and you’ll see his true self….a sad and broken man. He hides everything under layers of confidence, flirtatious nature, and coolness.

Name: Jasper Matthew Quentin

Age: 25

Orientation: Bisexual

Background: Background: Jackson and Jasper are twins who grew up with a tough life. They were put in foster care at a young age, but were soon kicked out when people found out about their powers. Jackson has power of fire, while Jasper has power of ice and snow. Both may be polar opposites, but they care for each other immensely.

Likes: Books, quiet places, animals

Dislikes: when people bully him or his brother, arrogance, idiots

Personality: He is a very shy boy who prefers books to people. He likes to be quiet and out of the way. Even though his brother protects him physically, he is the one there to help his brother when Jackson breaks down.

Name: Scarlett Elizabeth Roland (Face claim Kathryn Newton)

Age: 23

Orientation: Pansexual

Background: No one really knows where she came from. She just appeared one day ready to safe the universe.

Likes: Adventures, kind people, knowledge

Dislikes: Arrogance, spiders, rude people

Personality: Much like The Doctor, she has a time machine clipped to her charm bracelet that can appear anytime she likes. It’s easily to transport and hide. She is an energetic girl who is always up for a good adventure. Scarlett loves everything Tolkien, Star Wars, and Star Trek. Let’s not forget Doctor Who, she ADORES that show so so so much! She tends to act like the 11th Doctor, only gets serious for certain things or in spurts.

Name: Killian Miles Everson (Face claim Chris Pine)

Age: 28

Orientation: Gay

Background: Killian is an assassin. He’s been in this business for as long as he can remember since his father was one too. He won’t give away anything personal about himself, unless you’re someone he really trusts.

Likes: Weapons, food, solitude

Dislikes: whiny people, slackers, children

Personality: He is a very cold man who only wants to get the job done and is out of there. He pushes everyone away, he hates letting people in. If you were to meet him on the street, he would seem distant and has a resting bitch face.

#my ocs

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palpablenotion · 7 years

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@space-aspi there are a lot of reasons to not have a professional diagnosis

i’m in the states where there are no free exams for adults, at least there aren’t in my state, just seeing a psychiatrist for an entry visit would cost $200 out of pocket because most don’t take medicaid and the ones that do in my area are very much recommended to not go to, evaluations are even more expensive

i’m self dx, not because i decided autism seemed like a cool thing or i fit a few trait presentations, but because i literally studied it for years, reading every new article on how traits present different in afabs than amabs, how different minority statuses effected it, how it can effect mental health for it to never be acknowledged, etc etc etc

i also actually read the diagnostic criteria (which is something every self dxxer i’ve ever met has done)

you know why i wouldn’t trust a self dx in the hands of some counsel of family and friends? because the world is an ableist shitshow

my sister is in a peripheral psychology related field (social work) and has decided, as such, she knows more about mental health than anyone in her family not in such a field - this includes her telling me i’m not autistic because it “doesn’t really seem to fit” especially after meeting “real autistic people”

i’ve literally been studying and learning everything i could about autism for approx. 11-12 years and also? i’m autistic, so yes, i’m pretty sure i know more about it than her

and i personally have gone in for an eval, back when my mother’s insurance still covered me, and got back bad results

i’ve spoken extensively on this before, but i knew upon the completion of the eval they wouldn’t diagnose me, and you know why? because i actually knew what the diagnosis would require and they didn’t even ask for that information

there was no interview, no history, no asking to discuss my childhood with a parent, no questioning about sensory issues - i essentially had a standard eval and not one that could determine autism, because you know what’s required in america to diagnose autism? a diagnostic interview

i left that eval and called my therapist, telling her they weren’t going to diagnose me because they didn’t even try to get the info they needed

and part of that was institutional ableism as when i got the results back, i was told “you’re not autistic, you’re just so intelligent you can’t connect with people socially”

this is an oft used sentiment to deny people an autism diagnosis and it’s ableist af; being “too smart” doesn’t preclude autism

they also obviously didn’t know the diagnostic criteria either because they told me the auditory processing disorder they diagnosed didn’t contribute to an autism diagnosis, instead i should come back for more testing to see if i’m adhd - part B.4 of the criteria states hypo or hyper sensory issues directly contribute to diagnosis

i never even met the man that did the evaluation, i had a registration worker (not a nurse) that proctored half the test and then left me alone for the other half (against regulations, you’re never to leave a patient alone doing eval for a number of reasons and one of them is the results can be skewed by them doing something wrong which is highly preventable by being their during the eval) and a colleague of the elevator is who gave me the results

so yea sometimes professionals know better and sometimes? they don’t do their fucking job

and there are plenty of reasons to not seek prof diagnosis

did you know in a lot of places, professional diagnosis can prevent you from adopting? or that it can be used to label you an unfit parent in court? there are real instances of autistic parents losing custody, not just to their ex partner, but single autistic parents and autistic couples that have their kids taken by the state because they’re deemed unfit on the basis of being autistic

did you know that a diagnosis (in the states) can lead to your parent/guardian being able to retain power of attorney over you? regardless of whether or not their child is actually unable to care for themselves or make their own decisions about their life

did you know that a diagnosis can be used in institutional discrimination? it’s technically legal to pay mentally disabled people pennies on the dollar because they’re “less productive workers.” and that many employers, if informed of an autism diagnosis, simply won’t hire someone or may figure out how to fire them without hitting the ada (americans with disabilities act)?

did you know that a huge reason people self dx isn’t to label themselves with something trendy but so they can better know themselves, connect with a community that can better understand them, feel less like a “freak” or “broken,” and make their own accommodations as necessary? i personally remember sitting at my table in kindergarten, five years old, having what i now understand to be a panic attack because i was so focused on not being noticed, not standing out, not doing anything wrong because i already realized i was different and different was bad and nobody could know

that was the entirety of my childhood. within a month of routinely interacting with a random group of 20 or so other 5 year olds, i had learned that weirdness, difference, wasn’t tolerated by the populace, and came to believe that if i were to prosper, i’d need to not be different

i’ve rarely come across a self dxxer that hasn’t put a considerable portion of their lifetime towards looking for answers, towards suspecting but not year declaring, towards tentative steps in the direction of autism. i knew i was autistic when i was 15 and my sister came home from her senior psych class and said “sarah, i figured out what’s wrong with you” and showed me the definition for autism in the back of the book

excusing the ableism and that she has since decided i’m not autistic, i learned enough that day to self dx, but didn’t for over a decade. and a lot of us court self dxing for a long time, speak to other autistic individuals about their experiences, and become slowly more and more sure

if you’re going to insist on counsel diagnosis, don’t insist it needs to be by friends and family, who you have no guarantee would even accept a prof dx - i’ve seen enough asks come into @autism-asks to know that a lot of family members and friends will just as easily brush aside a prof dx, claim the doctors got that wrong, etc

rather let self dxxers do what they typically do anyway and speak to the autistic community - i’m pretty sure we, the community, understand it better than anyone else

EDIT: professionals don’t study a disorder for 7 years unless they are very specifically specializing in it, most autistic self dxxers know way more about autism both from actually being autistic and studying it exclusively for years, hence why i keep being told by people in the medical field “you don’t seem autistic/i never would have guessed” who obviously don’t understand autism doesn’t have one singular image, my therapist studied for years and has a doctorate in psychology but readily admits i know way more about certain topics than her because she’s not some arrogant asshole that thinks a degree equals actual knowledge

#self dx #pro self dx #ableism #nothing wrong with an education #unless you think education automatically means this person obviously knows better than this other person #and don't actually take things like #studying #field work #practical application #into consideration

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delos-mio · 7 years

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Partners - AU Frat Logan - Part 15

A/N: A special thank you to @benbarnesescape for talking some of my ideas out with me- thank you for always listening to me ramble! Also, parts of this are NSFW, yadda yadda

When you got up to Logan’s hospital room, he was fast asleep. His poor arm was already casted and hanging limply at his side. It wouldn’t have taken you so long to get here if Juliet hadn’t called their mom and made you recount the whole sordid tale to her. Then, the two of them convinced you to wait at the field for her so you could all go see him together. You felt guilty about not being there when Logan would have rolled in, as you had promised, but you were sure he’d understand as soon as you told him it was because his family insisted you go with them.

Juliet and Susan were outside talking to the doctor for a long time and you didn’t want to over stay your welcome when they began discussing payment and other private matters. You had just sunk down into a rather uncomfortable chair in the corner of the sterile room when you heard him stir under the sheets on his bed. His eyes slowly fluttered open and scanned the room. When they finally fell on you curled up in the corner, a wide grin spread across his face.

“You lied,” he sang, his voice a little hoarse.

“About what?”

“You said you’d be here when I got here,” he teased.

“Well, your mom and sister kind of made me wait for them.” You stood up and walked over to the side of his bed before perching yourself next to him and pushing his sweaty hair back off his forehead. “I can’t disobey the Beal women.”

“Sure you can. I do all the time,” he laughed. You giggled along with him, taking in his sleepy gaze and bright smile.

“You better not!” a voice called as the room door swung open. Juliet stuck her tongue out at Logan who promptly flipped her off. “Glad to see you’re feeling well enough to have an attitude.”

“Juliet, hush! Your brother is in awful pain,” his mother added before taking a seat and glaring at her. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Doin ok, ma. I’ve got all my girls here, what more could a guy want?” he said smoothly. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, earning a laugh from Juliet.

The four of you sat for a while going over the game, which you had ended up losing with Logan getting carted off. He was disappointed and aggravated to say the least. He told his mom all the details he could remember while doctors came in and out of the room every so often with updates about his release and asking him how he was holding up. As a concussion protocol, he would have to stay overnight, which was making him crazy. You knew he just wanted to go home and stop having people he didn’t know fuss over him and interrupt him every 10 minutes. All you could do was lie next to him and try to keep his temper in check.

After a while, Juliet and Susan decided they’d head back home and check on him tomorrow morning before he would be discharged. They had offered you a ride home or to stay at their home with them, but Logan made you promise in front of them that you’d stay in the cramped little twin bed with him. His mother kissed his forehead goodbye and Juliet gave him a curt wave before they departed, shutting the door tight behind them. Immediately, Logan’s mouth was on your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to your collarbone. You gave him a light shove on his chest which made him look up at you.

“What?” he asked with wide eyes.

“What do you mean ‘what’? You think you’re gonna fuck me on this tiny ass bed?” you laughed.

“Um yeah? That’s kind of the plan.” He looked at you, arching an eyebrow as if what he wanted was the most mundane request.

“I don’t think so, Lo,” you smiled before giving him a long kiss. When you pulled your lips away, he let out a pitiful, dramatic groan.

“I’ve already had to wait like a whole week just to see you outside of class and now I can’t even fuck that pretty little pussy of yours until tomorrow?” He jutted out his bottom lip.

“Who said anything about tomorrow?” you quipped. He furrowed his brow before placing his mouth on yours, moving against your lips slowly. His pace was absolutely torturing; you wanted more of him immediately. Logan ran his tongue along your bottom lip, drawing out the absolute agony you were in. All you could think about was how you could very easily kiss Logan every moment for the rest of your life. There couldn’t possibly be anything better than feeling his mouth on yours. Involuntarily, you let out a moan as he gently nipped at your already swelling lips.

“C’mon, princess,” he huffed, his voice tinted with that dark edge that came out when he really wanted you. His lips had now moved down your jawline and was tracing down the side of your neck. His offer was so tempting, too tempting. Your body was screaming at you to hop on top of him and ride him until the nurses caught you. But your brain kept nagging you to have a little composure and not get so intoxicated by his kisses. You pulled his chin up and he looked up and you with his big, brown eyes, his lips still pursed and ready to continue moving on your skin.

“Tomorrow,” you said somewhat sternly, but there was still a smile plastered on your face. His face dropped a little, but he nodded his head in your palm.

“Tomorrow.”

Ever since you left the field, you’d been thinking about what you had said only to yourself as Logan was taken away. Right now, laying with him, lazily kissing his chest and neck, you wanted nothing more than to tell him you loved him. The cheap TV buzzed quietly in the background, setting the soundtrack to the thoughts wildly whirling in your head. You loved his arrogance and his sense of humor, his chest and his biceps, his wit and his ability to be sweet when he so desired. No one, outside of your mother perhaps, had made you feel as safe to be your authentic self. The words were forming on your lips and your heart rate began to pick up. You’d never allowed yourself to be this completely vulnerable to another man and quite frankly, it scared the shit out of you. Just as your lips parted, the words threatening to fall out right then and there, Logan yawned and pulled you close into his chest.

“I’m sleepy, babe,” he drawled, letting his eyes flutter shut. You let out a long breath and nodded into his hospital gown.

“Me too,” you agreed. You lifted your head just slightly to give him one last kiss before joining him in sleep. “Goodnight, Lo.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

—-

Logan was discharged without a concussion the next morning. You urged him to be thankful for this fact, but he simply couldn’t get past having to be in a cast for the next three weeks. The very sight of it irritated him; its hard, black exterior was a constant reminder of the loss and his inability to bring home the big win. By early afternoon, you had brought Logan back home to the Delta Chi house. His brothers had been kind enough to clean up a little and left a six pack of his favorite beer on his bed. When he walked in and saw the gift, he let out a sad sigh. You pulled back the covers for him and helped him get settled in bed. As you started to put away some of his things, you turned back to keep an eye on him. He was looking out his window almost wistfully, something clearly weighing heavily on his mind. You finished up quickly and scooted in bed next to him, taking his free hand.

“What’s going on up there?” you asked, scanning your eyes up to his forehead.

“They shouldn’t have left me a fucking gift,” he huffed, still not taking his gaze from the window.

“They’re just happy you’re ok. No one is mad at you,” you assured him.

“Well, they should be. I let all of them down. We should have won!” He finally turned to face you, his eyes glossed over. It occurred to you that this accident made him feel like a failure of a captain, something you had reminded him the night before was simply not true.

“Logan, it wasn’t your fault! Some asshole took a cheap shot and you landed wrong. That’s not something you have control over. The boys all know that,” you said as soothingly as you could muster. You ran your palm along his short beard; he let his cheek melt into your touch.

“Can’t help it. It just feels shitty,” he almost whispered.

“I know baby.” You gave him a quick kiss. “I’m just happy you’re ok. Watching you fall like that and get thrown into the back of an ambulance was fucking terrifying,” you admitted to him, talking for the first time about all the emotions that surged through you during those few, fleeting moments.

“Yeah,” he began to laugh, “I do remember you were gonna charge that fucker. Thanks for sticking up for me, babe,” he winked. You blushed and shook your head.

“What can I say? I was mad as hell,” you smiled.

“Kinda sexy when you get all worked up like that.” He nudged you a little and raised an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes at him and nuzzled into his shoulder. Now is your chance, you thought you yourself. If you were going to tell Logan about everything you thought that day on the field, the time was nigh.

“There was something else I thought about when I was out on the field with you,” you began. Logan cocked his head slightly, just enough so he could look down at your face. “I uh…I…”

“Spit it out, princess. It’s just me.”

“I love you, Logan,” you said simply in a small voice. You watched his face intently, you stomach a mess of knots anticipating his reaction. His eyebrow arched in confusion.

“Yeah, I know?” he said, his voice thick with questioning.

“What do you mean, ‘I know’?” you asked, a little irritated.

“I mean I know we love each other. Like, of course you do.” He shook his head a little, unsure why you thought this was a revelation. You pushed off him a little bit so you could look at him straight on, your brow furrowed and internal temperature rising.

“Of course I d…? Logan! I am trying to be open and vulnerable with you here and you’re just acting like ‘oh whatever’ about it!” You were beginning to work yourself up into a tizzy. Logan just sat there looking at you, confusion painted on his face.

“Babe, I’m not trying to piss you off. I just felt like that was something we both knew and assumed,” he shrugged.

“So what? You were just never going to vocalize that to me?” you questioned. “Do you know how much I had to psyche myself up just to physically make those words come out of my mouth? Do you think that’s something I just say to anyone?” Logan opened his mouth to respond, but you quickly cut him off. “It’s not, Lo. Ok? It’s not. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve said it to someone who’s not in my family or my best friend. So, I don’t know, I guess I thought I would get a little more from you.”

Just before you could continue your diatribe, Logan wrapped his hand under your chin, pulling your lips to his. He kissed you with all the passion he had the first time you’d been on this bed and he had first put his lips on yours. When he pulled away, he kept your face held in his hand, his dark eyes pouring into yours.

“I love you, Y/N. I feel it every time I see you, every time I kiss you, every time I fuck you,” he smiled at the last one, “and I’m sorry for making you feel like it wasn’t a big deal.” Logan let your chin go and invited you back into his arms. You happily slid back in, your anger dialing back down. “If I’m being honest, it’s scary for me too. You think I’ve told a girl I love her before?”

“No, I don’t.” You both laughed at the idea, able to poke fun of Logan and his reputation.

“You think I let any old girl who walks into this house meet my mom and sister?” he asked, stroking your hair gently. You shook your head into his chest. Maybe his love language was different than yours. In fact, you knew it was. He was one to show, not tell. Often, he kept his feelings and thoughts to himself. But he always made sure to do things like send you flowers or walk with his hand on the small of your back or open car doors for you. That was him telling you how much he cared about you. He never did that for anyone besides you. You were his girl and he’s been trying to tell you that all along, in his own Logan way.

“Sorry for being kind of a dick,” you mumbled into his shoulder. You felt his chest rumble with laughter under you.

“You’re not being a dick, babes. But,” he began and you could see the glint in his eye change ever so slightly, “My dick has been missing you and that pretty little mouth of yours like crazy.”

“Very smooth transition there,” you laughed, positioning yourself on top of him.

“Yeah? You like that one?” he smirked, letting his gaze fall to your lips. You bit your lip and nodded, making him groan. “You can’t bite your lip at me like that, princess. It’s not nice to tease.”

You began to kiss your way down his neck, biting lightly at his soft skin. Your hands trailed down his chest to the waistband of his sweats, which you were quick to push down his thighs. Logan let out a sigh as he watched you work your way down the length of his body, finally nestling between his thighs. Looking at you with his hard cock resting just below your lips was enough to send him over the edge right then. For over a week, he’d been anticipating when you’d be his once again.

Slowly, you took his tip between your lips, creating just enough pressure to force his eyes closed. He hissed in through his teeth, the little contact you had creating driving him mad. You could see he was desperate for you, and you thought given his last 24 hours, now was not the time to tease him. You took in a deep breath and lowered your lips down to the base of his cock, taking him in fully. Immediately, a string of profanities came flooding out of his mouth. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his instant ecstasy. Keeping a steady rhythm, you moved your mouth up and down his shaft, varying your pressure. He was staring down at you, his jaw slack and fingers knotting in your hair. This was what you had been dreaming about all those nights this last week when all you could do was naughty FaceTime. Your own wetness began to pool between your thighs as you picked up the tempo.

Logan was already a shaking mess when you pulled off slightly to swirl your tongue around the dripping head of his cock. While he had his head thrown back and eyes clenched shut, you gently reached between his legs, tugging gently at his balls. The contact made his eyes spring open, looking down at you in wonder and pleasure. You took him into your mouth once again, continuing massaging him as you did.

“Princess, you look so beautiful right now,” he purred, petting your hair as you looked into each other’s eyes. You could feel him getting close as he haphazardly began to raise his hips, trying anything he could to get additional contact. The breaths coming from him were ragged and becoming more and more uneven. You took him all the way to the back of your throat one last time before you heard his breathing catch and his warm seed coat the inside of your mouth. Gently, you cleaned him up and wiped the corner of your lips, savoring the last of him. Logan reached down and stroked your cheek, smiling a sleepy smile.

“I love you.”

#logan #logan westworld #westworld #Westworld AU #logan x reader #ben barnes #Partners #masterlist

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unfortunatelysirius · 7 years

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Rant Time! w/ Katie

I’ll most likely be spending my entire night writing on requests and other stupid shit that I’d like to work on, but for now I’m about to give y'all another rant that’s completely unnecessary but something that helps even out the stress I’m currently experiencing.

I’m going to be seventeen in less than two months and I still haven’t went to get my permit. I have a paranoia of driving and it prevents me from having the motivation to read my state’s driving manual and to actually go and take the test. My mom thinks it’s stupid of me to think like that, but there’s like twenty car crashes a day—probably more. And that scares the hell out of me so I just keep putting it off.

In other news, my first day of senior year is August 10th and I am freaking the FUCK OUT. I signed up to take AP Biology, but now I’m starting to feel a tad nervous and regretful because hardly anyone ever passes that class due to the obnoxiously dimwitted teaching style of the teacher. I heard only one person passed the end-of-the-year exam out of ten last year. ONE—when there’s a solid chance of getting a 3-5 on the damn thing!

My schedule is decked out in college classes. I know I probably shouldn’t disclose my schedule, but I’m meant to be taking AP Biology—as aforementioned—College English, two dual credit classes from a local community college, (one’s a history class and the other one is a literature class) Pre-Calculus, Public Speaking, and Anatomy I. That’s for the first semester—I plan on taking College Algebra and a few more dual credit classes in the next semester, including the other classes that will last year-round.

So this means I have that to worry about AND getting into college AND learning to manage finances AND ALL THIS OTHER SHIT THAT ADULTS HAVE TO DO. Can I please just become the air or something, you know, nOT HUMAN? Maybe a dog, so I can depend on others for the rest of my live.

I plan on going to a college with a work-study program. They don’t allow students to live off-campus or have cars, so that’s a win-win for me! My other choice of college is one that’s really pretentious and expensive but is known for having outstanding education. I’m not shooting for Harvard or Yale because I’m an incredibly average person. Sucks to be unremarkable, I know, but meh.

Anyway, to continue on with my rant, I want to talk about rich people. I have nothing against you all that have been blessed with money from birth—I’m merely upset with the fact that I get no recognition for my accomplishments just because I’m not privileged. Guess what, y'all—they got me excited at the end of last semester by announcing a new round of AP classes, but literally all of them were for the freaking juniors. Two of the kids in that class were teacher’s pets, and since my own mother works down at the school with both of their mothers, it didn’t take a genius to deduce what sort of Inside shenanigans were going on.

Get this—they legit called all of us that signed up for AP Language to go back down and change out our schedules. Like, what the fuck?

I had a dream the other day where I moved schools and fell in love with some dude that was also transferring. Best dream of my life, I’ll tell you that.

Anyway… again… It just feels like to me that school only ever tries to please privileged kids with parents that are doctors, teachers (specifically ones born into privileged families or related to the superintendent), attorneys, and accountants. No one wants to advocate for the middle-man, and that leads to all us poor kids being singled out. Whatever, though, right?

Sometimes I just feel like everything I do amounts to nothing. Is it wrong to feel that way? I look at my writing and think I’m worse than Stephanie Meyer. Apologies to Stephanie Meyer fans, but her writing WAS dedicated to those of young age and without a moral compass for controlling temperament found within men.

*clears throat* Ahem. Anyways…

I plan on going into a dual major of political science and history—or English, if worse comes to worse. I really don’t want to become rich because then I’ll be targeted and judged for the same things I loathe right now. However, my ambitions correlate with a need to prove my worth and do something great with my life, so whether or not I become what I hate, it doesn’t matter if I’ve managed to become a model for my relatives and former friends.

The best revenge is to succeed and be humble about it. I might be arrogant about my schoolwork, but that’s only towards friends and relatives when they believe that I don’t deserve to be successful in what I do. Then and there, I become arrogant. Even if I do not necessarily believe my own comments, I still say them to make others lay off me.

Returning to the thought at-hand, my college of choice is very liberal and hipster-esque, which suits my personal interests. Also, it's known for its study-abroad program, free internships, and its education, which are three things that matter dearly for me. I hope to get an internship at either the NAACP or the White House. Maybe even just a visit to see Mount Rushmore.

Teddy Roosevelt is my favorite president, and I know more things about him than I do my own father. Thank you, Borglum, for having Teddy recognized as one of the greatest presidents to have ever lived!

Seriously, though. He even left the legacy of having the highest percentage of voters when he ran as a third-party candidate just to spite Taft. Like, wow.

… I’m getting off track here.

Having anxiety fucking sucks. See, last year I had to a lot of these “roundtable discussions” in my AP U.S. History class, and I managed to make it through on all of them except for a few towards the end of the second semester. I even had one on my fucking birthday, which sucked majorly. They were a lot more difficult to manage than debates. I could handle debates; they didn’t involve having to force myself to speak up or face the consequences of a zero.

I loved APUSH—I really did—but now I feel like I’m an excuse for a history lover because I got a 4 on the APUSH exam. Not a 5—a 4. I have failed you, Teddy. (RIP, Bull Moose. Not even a bullet could have stopped you, but a failed test grade sure as hell stopped me lol.)

Anyways, if you haven’t noticed, I’m American. I’m also white—and according to this random ancestry website I found, I originate from Sweden and Italy. I guess that’s cool… but I don’t trust the internet so uh…

Back to stress! …That’s a good way to refer to going back to school. Just replace “hellhole” with “stress.” Basic synonyms, everyone!

I have bad friends. All of them are assholes and think I’m a bitch because I’m “skin and bones” and like to “flaunt it” just because I wear decently nice clothes. I know they’d be offended if I told them it’s because I feel uncomfortable not wearing something that makes me feel happy with myself. It’s not me thinking I look good—it’s a confidence-boost. Am I meant to be looking for a damned boyfriend just by wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse? Is that how life works?

I remember in eighth grade I had this friend who told me I looked like a prep, and then she made me feel so bad about “trying to fit in” that I started wearing jeans and hoodies to school. It hurts to think about how much impact people’s words have over you—and half of time, it’s never a positive influence. For me, it’s never been positive.

Well, I’m sorry for burdening you all with this rant. I know it’s rather… long, but I just needed to get it off my chest. Keeps hurting when I see everyone else finishing up projects while I’m still sketching out the blueprints. I’ll get back to posting things tonight and tomorrow. I’m sorry I didn’t post anything today. It’s rather pitiful of me to put off things when I know you all are the only reason I can even stay motivated anymore.

Have a nice night, (or morning, depending on where you are) my darlings. 💕

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[SP] The X-Men: The New Ages

Liberty Hospital, New York.

Doctor William "Healfist" Powers was just about to pack up and leave for his lunch break when suddenly, a co-worker burst out of a door and ran towards him.

BANG!!!!

"Doctor Healfist! Doctor Healfist! Another patient urgently needs your help!"

"Jones... I'm on my lunch break"

"Please! Your the only healer left that hasn't left the hospital, I'm lucky I got to you on time"

Healfist saw the desperate look in Jones' eyes and reluctantly agreed. He moved towards the room his coworker had just burst out from.

He had always been annoyed by the misconceptions people had towards healers like him. It was not as easy as people thought it was, or as it used to be...

There were many of us back then, he thought. There were many of us, mutants. Scarce, but still plenty. We were thought to be monsters.

But as generations and generations went on and the population of mutants started to outnumber the non-gifted, we were suddenly accepted into the society. Although the more times we fell in love with a human and birthed a child, mutant powers started to become more and more grounded rather than magical.

Doctor by day, carefully and precisely healing the wounds of patients, and illegal Chip Remover by night, carefully and precisely taking out the chips from a gifted's brains.

These chips became a requirement for all super powered individuals which "took away" their powers.

This was said to ensure safety for all individuals, powered and non-gifted alike. The non-gifted did not have to fear of being harmed, and the powered did not harm themselves. (A girl who could walk through walls had accidentally stuck herself inside a wall and died instantly)

Of course, these chips would be switched off when they were doing their jobs. Their powers gave them an added advantage to getting a specific job.

Mind readers became lawyers and cops. Healers became doctors. That's how William "Healfist" Powers became a doctor without knowing much about the profession.

The other doctors gathered around as Healfist reached his hand out towards the patient. The wound of the man lying on the operating table started to close...

GRRTSSHH!!!

"It is done"

The X-Headquarters, New York.

Katt "The Young Wonder" Grey had flown through one of the windows of the tall building playfully.

WOOOSH!!!

The other members of the team were standing in front of her with their arms crossed. This was not good, Katt thought.

"Come on, guess what kind of shit you got us into this time", Max Spirit said.

Confused as to why the atmosphere was suddenly so serious, Katt furrowed her brows and shrugged.

Lilly Pyro held out her phone. " 'Remember, we are all the X-Men. Strong-willed and kind in heart.' This is what you tweeted yesterday, and now people are talking about why there isn't a non-gifted in our team".

"Uhm... Oops?" Katt replied, dumbfounded.

The last time the team had to let another member join for reasons like this was when Katt had joined. People started questioning why there hasn't been a transexual member of the team for 5 years.

But, a non-gifted member would not make sense, she thought. The X-Men never had a non-gifted member before. How is someone with no powers supposed to defend against the supervillains who terrorise the city?

"Don't worry, we'll think of something", Katt had said after a long awkward silence. "We could find a suitable non-gifted and give it a desk job or something".

The Team nodded in agreement.

"Alright. Tesla, find this suitable member online. Meanwhile, we have a new supervillain to take down!" The Young Wonder had exclaimed excitedly.

Mom's Basement, 189A Liberty Avenue.

Matthew Tyler had just been ranting online when suddenly, he saw the X-Men's ad for a non-gifted recruit.

"This is my chance, my dream is finally going to come true!" Matthew exclaimed.

He had always been a superfan of the X-Men, how they had defended everyone from the individuals who think that they are better than everyone by taking out their chips, dubbed "Supervillains".

"These individuals abuse their powers and privileges to cause extreme terror and inequality to our society. They want to feel more powerful than everyone else", Matthew had seen this from one of the X-Men's twitter posts a few years back.

Finally... It would only make sense for a non-gifted to join the X-Men considering the non-gifted was who the X-Men were protecting. He could finally teach all the arrogant, selfish, privileged mutants a lesson.

After all, their ancestors had caused so much harm back then. It only made sense for payback, he thought.

Outside the Liberty Bank.

Essie "Lifeblast" Goldhart was leaning against the building, waiting for night time to approach.

He had been born with the ability to regenerate at an extremely quick speed. If not for the chip inside his head, he would've been almost invincible.

However, the doctors had deemed it better off that the chip should never be switched off as it would be too dangerous. Essie would be able to do whatever he wanted to do, the ultimate supervillain.

This gift which was completely a curse also caused him to never be able to find a job. He was practically a non-gifted, with no super skills to guarantee him one.

Nowadays, he roams around the city, without a home. He was constantly insulted by the gifted for being homeless, ehile being insulted by the non-gifted for being a 'privileged arrogant asshole, as all the gifted are'.

Now, his body functions were shutting down and he had no money to get a doctor. More than ever, hs desperately needed that god damn chip out of his head.

After I rob this bank, I'll be able to hire a Chip Remover, he thought. The X-Men did not care for such low-level crimes, they only cared about taking down the supervillains.

And after my chip is removed, they won't be able to stop me...

Rivervale High School for the Non-Gifted.

Jonathan Norcross was having the time of his life ranting to his new classmates.

"You know what really pisses me off? The X-Men talk all about equality and stuff, and then they ruin it by constantly talking shit about the Gifted! How they're overpriviliged and stuff. Meanwhile, they're living at the top of the world while everyone praises them just for stopping supervillains!"

"You saw the ad?", one of his classnates asked.

"What ad?"

"They are trying to recruit a non-gifted to the team"

"Hah, are you kidding me? This is what I've been telling you! Equality was never about providing priviliges to the minorities. Equality was about being colourblind and genderblind and giftblind!"

"I don't know what your ranting on about though, I'm enjoying what I'm getting. I heard that they are going to make it so that the next president is going to be a non-gifted"

Jonathan was aware of this. It had been the reason why he had been so mad about the matter in the first place. They can do whatever they want to even the privilege scales, but the distrust between the gifted and non-gifted will only get bigger this way.

Getting tense, one of his classmates changed the topic. "Did you hear that the lead of Ginger Road is going to be a non-gifted, I'm so glad they are paying more attention to us"

"Oh yeah, oh yeah. I'm so glad that they potrayed us as poor and bullied and homeless and pathetic fucks with depressing lives and all that shit because that is DEFINITELY how we live our lives, we swim in just a huge pile of shit!" Jonathan mocked as the plastic spoon he was holding snapped in half.

TUKKK!

Justice Square, New York.

Rufus "Steelfist" Jones was patrolling the area with his partner Terry. He had been 68 years old but he was still on the job.This was no surprise to him. His unbreakable skin had proved to be of great value to the police force.

In his 49 years of service, he had seen alot of action in the streets of New York. Back then, the gifted were not the only super-powered ones roaming the streets.

His younger self had been extremely worried not to let his peers discover he was gifted. It came close once, when his mother had seen him fall down the stairs and there was not a single scratch on him.

He looked up to heroes like Cyclops and Spiderman, who showed that being different was not such a bad thing after all.

Now however, it looks like not having powers was the being different. It was better for people not to know that you were non-gifted. They would think that your fathers or mothers and their fathers or mothers were discriminatory towards the gifted, that's why you had no hereditary gifted gene.

Rufus and his non-gifted partner had been discussing about news of a non-gifted member of the X-Men. They both thought that it was good, although it felt weird.

From what Rufus could remember, there had been no non-gifted member of the X-Men before. How could a non-gifted fight a gifted anyways?

Terry had gotten into the police force due to his excellent physique and precise shooting, but even he could not possibly defeat a supervillain.

It was also unnecessary. The X-Men could take down anyone with just three members, it felt like the others were just there for display.

Display of what? Power? Diversity? A symbol of unity?

While he was deep in his thoughts, the X-Men, led by Katt, was taking down a supervillain.

Millions of people were cheering as they threw the baddie through many objects such as windows and buildings.

There was a magnificent display of teamwork. They were tossing the villain around like pinball, even though one psionic beam from The Young Wonder would have already handled the situation.

As the villain exploded in the most not gory way possible, everyone cheered. No one ever knew what power the supervillain had, they only knew what they was planning to do: obstruct peace and equality.

It was all colourful back then, Rufus thought. The billboards and the newspapers had praised the heroes for saving the day. Now the news sites talked about politics and politics and politics.

That's whats different. The news sites would probably say how the takedown of the villain had brought great peace to the people. If a supercop were to even harm an armed non-gifted instead, it would show a great sign of discrimination and sadism.

"You are super powered, you didn't have to hurt him!" He had heard this a countless number of times.

Well... It was part of the job.

WILL MATTHEW BECOME PART OF THE X-MEN? WILL ESSIE GET THAT GOD DAMN CHIP OUT OF HEAD?

FIND OUT IN THE NEXT ISSUE: In the Claws of Death

submitted by /u/helpreviewmysonsbook [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2PJvwp9

#Blogger #Story

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jillmckenzie1 · 6 years

Text

A Game of Numbers

So, I’ve been dating. It’s a rather obvious statement, but I’m saying it here with a real air of assertiveness that lets you know that I’m “for real,” because dating is what I should be doing if I am blatantly putting out into the universe that I’d like a partner in crime.

And, as painful as dating can be (and, take my word for it, it can be unbelievably painful), the only way to get better at anything is by doing it. Over and over and over again. So, I’ve spent the last few months committed to putting myself out there more as a means of sharpening the side of me that would rather gauge out my eyeballs with a rusty spoon than go on yet another date with a guy who is either too confused or too feminine or too vegetarian or too horny to even see past my backside in yoga pants (feel free to reference this previous dating rant for verification).

Fact. Dating is a game of numbers. You have to weed through a lot of toads to find Prince Charming (at least this is what they tell me).

I, personally, liken dating to Groundhog Day. You know, the movie where Bill Murray wakes up and repeats a sequence of events over and over and over again until he finally transforms from being an arrogant asshole into a good-hearted philanthropist? Yep, that one. Because every first date is essentially the same series of questions, actions, and reactions. The two of you are simply sizing each other up to come to some type of conclusion in regard to whether or not you’d like to do it again sometime.

Sidebar. I’d like to think that Prince Charming breaks the first-date mold. That he asks me for drinks at a college basketball bar where I spend far more time directing my body towards him than Saturday’s primetime matchup. And that we don’t even have to think about asking all the generic questions because the conversation just is. And he whisks me away to a sold-out concert where I’m scalping a ticket from a guy named Chicago in an effort to have another excuse to be next to him. And, at the end of the night, after one kiss that is more electric than the band’s encore, I’m wearing his alma mater shorts and Nike t-shirt to crawl into the left side of his bed and fall asleep next to the warmth of his body.

Unfortunately, this, here, is not that story.

So, let’s return to the vegetarian. Correction. Let’s return to the vegetarian that I met on Bumble. Truly, how else do you meet people these days? It’s altogether mind-blowing. Yet, I’m also living this quasi-nomadic life that warrants the use of technology in order to both make connections and stay connected. So, I jokingly call Bumble the place where we go to die (the ratio of ghosting to non-ghosting has got to be hovering in the 90th percentile); and yet, I am also on Bumble (and last time I checked, I’m not dying).

I digress. The vegetarian. When we started chatting, it happened to be snowing in Breckenridge. I had just landed with the Airstream by way of Texas. And he had just landed at the local hostel by way of New York, quitting corporate America to try on the ski bum life for a winter. We were both new. Great. We were both into powder. Great. And the next day promised lots of the latter. Even more great. Naturally, we agreed to meet on the mountain. And, while this was a risky move on my part (since I knew nothing about his ability level), I felt that I had enough scapegoats for a day date to politely abort the mission (hard rule of first dates is that you always have scapegoats).

We skied. We asked questions. And, surprisingly, I was able to avoid any scapegoating.

The next night, Vegetarian asked me to grab a drink with him to meet some guy that could be his potential roommate (remember, homeboy is living in the hostel while waiting for some housing to open up). He actually pulled the “but I’d much rather be sitting there with you” card, which, as a sucker for words, I found rather endearing. To be honest, I found a few things about him rather endearing.

Until I didn’t. Until, in transit to date two, I find myself sitting in his passenger seat on the side of Main Street while having a passionate discussion about my current diet and my affinity towards eating animals.

That’s right, folks, it’s all fun and games until you disclose that you’re a meat-eater.

If you follow my Instagram Stories, then you know that I’ve been dealing with stomach issues for almost a decade, and I recently engaged in a six-week metabolic reset that was rather strict in regards to the types of foods that I could eat and the portion sizes of those foods. Yes, meat was involved (as it has been involved in my diet for the vast majority of my life). And, yes, I presented this information to him so that he could understand why I wouldn’t be gorging on pizza that evening. Immediately, my diet became the epicenter of our conversation (while still sitting on the side of the road).

Allow me to preface this next bit with two statements. One, I have tried being a vegan and a vegetarian. Two, I don’t actually believe that anyone needs to justify his or her diet choices. Regardless, I opened the door for him to engage in conversation with me about my obsession with being a meat-eating member of society.

Because, I’ve tried everything, dude. Because I’ve been dealing with gut problems for seven years. Because I’ve seen over ten doctors. Because I am more educated on this topic than 97.4% of Americans. Because you call yourself a vegetarian and eat pretzels with fake cheese; meanwhile, I call myself an omnivore and only consume organic meats, fruits, and vegetables.

So, there we were. For an hour. Literally. And all I could think about was how thankful I was that his BMW X3 had a functional passenger-side seat heater.

In hindsight, what I learned about myself through this experience is my ability to detach from commentary that is merely someone’s opinion and recognize that it is in no way a personal attack on my character, an area where I truly struggled just a couple years ago.

Me: “Look, I would love to have a more detailed discussion with you about the pros and cons of vegetarianism, but I don’t feel educated enough on the topic to continue to disagree with you. I don’t even disagree with you. Because if it works for you, then great. If it doesn’t work for me, then great. But, as a whole, I don’t have any plausible data in my back pocket to support that eating meat is neither better nor worse for a human body.”

And, if I’m being honest, I didn’t care. I still don’t care.

In that moment, all I cared about was him driving me home. Because, good gawd, we’re two dates in and he’s already not listening. Disagree with me on something? Totally fine. Try to convince me that my opinion is completely false, or even stupid, without even really knowing me? Totally not fine.

But I stayed calm and talked myself into persevering (it is dating, after all, which is borderline rocket science). I reasoned that he was coming from a good place. I could feel the sense of urgency in his voice. He was imparting a knowledge on me that he believed could help me. At the core of my being, I could not fault the man for speaking his truth. The difference was that the conversation was not directed towards vegetarianism as a whole. The conversation was directed towards me and what I should do and how I should be leery of a program that suggested eating meat as a means of balancing myself. He just didn’t have enough knowledge about me as a person to so passionately preach to, what he seemed to believe, was my ignorance.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt. It was only our second date, after all.

We walked into the pizza place – me maintaining an aggressively safe distance between the two of us. Sports were on TV. I looked to the Nuggets for a little respite from the previous conversation.

Me: “Do you like the NBA?”

Vegetarian: “I don’t really like sports. I don’t really get them.”

Well, shit. Strike two, buddy. Strike two in two hours (if I’m still being generous). Seriously, sports, you don’t get them? So, we return to the food conversation. Again. Because he has to know what I would eat off the menu of this dive pizza place in Breckenridge, Colorado.

Nothing, dude. The answer is nothing. Mostly because I’ll get sick (hello, glu-tard over here). Mostly because I don’t know from where they’re sourcing their ingredients. Mostly because I would order a Tito’s and soda from the bar but not a salad in this kind of establishment.

Sure, I’m a damn food snob. And, sure, I’ve passed over caring what other people think of my food choices. Because I’ve been too damn sick for too damn long to sacrifice feeling good so that someone else can feel comfortable eating next to me.

At this point, I’m managing every verbal volley without any defensiveness or predisposition towards a specific response. But, inside. Inside I am screaming. I just want to cheer for the Nuggets and drink my Tito’s and soda and laugh until my cheeks feel like they’re going to explode. Is that too much to ask?

Seriously, where is Chicago and the sold-out concert and the alma mater shorts?

Somewhere. The answer is somewhere. But, most certainly not on this night with this guy at this local pizza joint. It took everything inside of me to not tell him to just let me jump out of his moving vehicle while he rolled past my RV park on the way home. Because, yes, I did in fact make it home. Alive.

But don’t worry, it gets better. Post-drop off, he proceeds to immediately text me and ask me to define the relationship. And I gather that this sense of urgency is spurred by the fact that he needs a place to live and my Airstream seems like a plausible solution (his words, not my assumptions).

Is this real life? Was he on our second date? Or did I just wake up from a really bad dream?

Nope. Date happened. He was there. This is actual real life. And, in the spirit of extreme bluntness, I euphemistically explain that hell will freeze over before we see each other again.

And, just like that, back to that desire to gauge out my eyeballs with a rusty spoon than experience anything resembling a date in the near future.

But I know better. Vegetarian is just another story. And I don’t mean that in some sluttish laundry list of dating have-dones. As a metaphor, I simply mean that I took him for a test drive and I didn’t like the car (at all), so I left it on the lot. To date is to simply be open to making the purchase.

As a non-metaphor, I liken it more to the softening of one’s heart. Dating is creating spaces of vulnerability for someone to show up. And I’m pretty convinced that you can find out in no more than three dates whether or not a person is going to show up in a capacity that makes you want to be enveloped in their presence over and over and over again. The challenge is that it requires brutal honesty, both with yourself and with the other person. And I’ve come to the conclusion that this fear of honesty is what propels most people into settling. Because we do not want to do the work to know ourselves. And beyond that, when we do challenge ourselves to do the work – when we sit inside ourselves long enough to understand how we receive love – we are then scared to articulate boldly to another human what is that we need based on that knowledge.

Because, what if we are too needy?

My answer. We all have needs; therefore, we are all needy. The right person will never put this label across your chest and ask you to carry it as if who you are is altogether too much. The right person will hear you, really hear you, and he most certainly will not keep you parked on the side of Main Street for an hour to defend your eating habits.

So, here’s to more swipe rights, and random chairlift conversations, and Instagram messages, and phone number exchanges, and actual dates to all different types of food establishments (organic or not). Because I just have to keep playing the odds. Yes, there are a hell of a lot of toads in this world, but Prince Charming, he is out there (and he’d better know how to snowboard).

from Blog https://ondenver.com/a-game-of-numbers/

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[SP] The Uncanny X-Men Issue #20440