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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

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notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

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Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

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madmaddyenby · 3 years

Text

/rp /dsmp

ok so- c!tommy. we are all aware he’s traumatized, and experiences ptsd from being in traumatic experiences, this is basically fact. while i’d like to talk how c!tommy experiences ptsd, i’d like to bring up a thing i haven’t seen mentioned a lot when it comes to c!tommy and his trauma- c-ptsd. also known as complex-ptsd. it occurs when someone experiences something traumatizing for a period of time.

[image description: A screenshot of text with the words “CPTSD stands for Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is a mental health condition in which a person might experience intense PTSD symptoms that coincide with other mental issues. CPTSD occurs in people who have been subjected to on going traumatizing experiences”. end description]

which, as we know, the exile arc fits the description of “ongoing traumatizing experiences” pretty fucking well. the exile was basically just two weeks of trauma. for a lot of reasons too, there was dream abusing tommy, tommy being isolated, tommys own depression/suicidal thoughts/bad mindset in general. this would all be considered a ongoing traumatizing experience(s).

ptsd is very similar to c-ptsd in how it develops, but ptsd occurs after one singular traumatizing event . (by the way, the event doesnt have to be life or death, it could be something like witnessing or hearing about a shocking event!!!)

symptoms of c-ptsd overlap with ptsd a good lot of the time, due to them both being trauma disorders. however, there are a few differences. here r some symptoms of c-ptsd, alot of which are ptsd symptoms that alot ofpeople with c-ptsd experience as well

reliving the traumatic experience

avoiding certain situations

changes in beliefs and feelings about yourself and others

hyperarousal (jitteriness, being on alert, etc)

somatic symptoms (physical symptoms with no underlying cause)

lack of emotional regulation

change in consciousness

negative self-perception

difficulty with relationships

distorted reception of abuser

loss of system of meanings

now, i’ll go over which of these fit our boy c!tommy, and how they fit for some of them atleast. i will only be talking about the things that are a result from c-ptsd, but also c-ptsd works where it coincides with other mental illnesses a person has so. its also important to note that within a person these symptoms might not stay the same over time, and not everyone who has c-ptsd or ptsd is going to experience it the same. (so not talking abt how pain affects him after dying in the prison, though that is a clear sign of ptsd)

reliving the traumatic experience

tommy’s done this with exile a few times, when revisiting logstedshire, when he saw the craters in logstedshire, when visiting dream in prison, when during the disc finale dream dug the hole and told him to put his armour in, etc etc, he’s even described himself as being trembly in the fingers near plain biomes, while visting logsted he mentioned how shaky it made him to be there, and when he visited logsted one time he had an immediate reaction to seeing a hole in the ground that came off as him reliving it. flashbacks come in from sensations during a traumatic event, like sight, feeling, emotion, etc, etc. it seems like with these he’s experiencing more of a reliving the emotions kind of thing.

avoiding certain situations

i was originally not gonna include this one, but thinking about it, he kind of does in a way. this symptom also includes keeping yourself preoccupied to avoid thinking about it, which is something c!tommy seems to do alot. with focusing on building the hotel, and doing tasks, or grinding for supplies instead of actually thinking about it.

changes in beliefs and feelings about yourself and others

c!tommy uh. does this a lot. a lot of it stems from how during exile tommy was isolated and made to believe no one cared for him, and even if that wasn’t true c!tommy never really got much closure on that. hes not really trusting ppl that b4 were really close to him, tubbo n ranboo for example

lack of emotional regulation

this can also be described as uncontrollable feelings. this is the one i’ve wanted to talk about the most i think- because this is really fits c!tommy. he tends to lash out alot, for example burning the flower c!ranboo gave him, there are a bunch more examples of this that include him yelling at others, that one time when he spleefed c!jack

negative self-perception

yeah. theres a few examples of this one, the one that first comes to mind is that time during the green festival where he was talking about how he was worse than everyone he didn’t wanna be (including his abuser, c!dream...) . theres now when he was building his tower by the prison when he was saying he couldn’t use the cobble because it was too him, and people didnt like the cobble. alot of this i think comes from c!dream making him feel basically worthless in exile :(

difficulty with relationships

Yeah. um. Alot for this one!!! The first to come to mind is c!tubbo. c!tommy and c!tubbos relationship is very very wonky, especially considering recent events with tommy feeling like he is being replaced with c!ranboo. (which he isnt by the way! he just feels as though, which is a valid feeling for him to have :]) . another person that comes to mind is c!ranboo. he’s even mentioned how his and ranboos relationship goes back and forth quite alot. its not very surprising to see that he has difficulty with relationships especially considering a lot of the reason that the exile affected him so badly was because he felt so alone and was so isolated from his friends. another thing that comes to mind, is when he made c!sam sign that contract promising hat he’d be his best friend and protect him. theres most likely way more that can be said here, but this is the first stuff that comes to mind.

distorted reception of abuser

um... yeah. this one. this can also be described as , “ becoming preoccupied with the relationship between you and your abuser. It can also include preoccupation with revenge or giving your abuser complete power over your life. “ which is um. yeah. c!tommy. he’s mentioned how whenever he’s around c!dream he feels like hes conditioned to be his friend (which. yea . he was .). right after he left logstedshire this was very very prominent, he was the biggest c!dream apologist around (/j), saying things like “dream didnt do anything wrong” and even explaining how he wasnt sure about things when it comes to c!dream, that his mind became flip floppy whenever he thought about him. right now, hes focused on getting back at c!dream, not fully for revenge, mainly for his friends and how he doesnt want c!dream to go around killing and reviving everyone, but the point still stands. (this all makes me extra sad because he had gone to the prison the second time in the first place to get closure :(( )

loss of system of meanings

Systems of meaning refer to your religion or beliefs about the world. This can also refer to getting a strong sense of hopelessness or despair about the world, which as of late mainly c!tommy seems to have. mainly referencing in his stream where he visited dreams bunker, he was asking what the point was of finding things that made him happy if dream was just going to get out the prison and destroy it. theres also a few things that also go with this, in one stream while he burnt down ponks lemon tree for sam nook he said "thats still decaying, but yknow, arent we all." and that one time when he gave that hotel invitation to c!techno he was like “ahahha we could die tomorrow anyway”

its also important to note that, “Any type of long-term trauma, over several months or years, can lead to CPTSD. However, it seems to appear frequently in people who’ve been abused by someone who was supposed to be their caregiver or protector. “ Which is.. fairly accurate in c!tommy’s situation. c!dream might’ve not been a caregiver or protector necessarily but he was still someone that was looking after him yknow?

there are most likely more things than what i layed out that show that c!tommy most likely also has cptsd, however this is just the stuff that i thought up :] add to the post if you’d like to!

(also this isn’t saying that c!tommy doesnt have ptsd, he had both ptsd and c-ptsd. also i am not an expert about ptsd, cptsd, or mental health in general, if i got any information wrong let me know)

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hermestoaster · 2 years

Note

As always, your oc designs >>>>>

Can we hear more about vanilla+lightshow?

-🍁

Oh absolutely! They're some of my older ones so there's a lot to tell here with a bunch of changes that's happened through the years

They're the duo-protagonists of a sci-fi thriller story I've had in my head since I was in high school forever ago. I originally made them to use in comic tournaments so I actually have some very VERY old content of them.

They're both residents of a junkyard planet where most other planets dump their old technology. Some older models of robots tend to end up their too, so it's like a little home for those that don't really have one anymore, no matter the scale of autonomy any one robot has.

Lightshow has just always lived there? He doesn't really think much of it. He's fully sentient and wants nothing more than to be the best light-weight boxing champ around. He's super cheerful, kind and believes in the best of everyone. He's not a big fan of violence outside of matches though, as a bad run-in years ago left him without a voice box while standing up for a peer. He's mute and primarily uses sign language to communicate.

Vanilla on the other hand is like his opposite; she was originally from a very rich planet working directly under someone very powerful, mostly as an assistant/show-pony. Perfection was always expected of her and the moment she slipped, she was deemed not useful anymore, getting her lower jaw torn apart for her trouble. Through a very bloody exist she managed to get her way to a junkyard planet, mend her injuries, and found work using her skills with the mob. She's sort of ambivalent to the whole "good guys, bad guys" bit and thinks most people are shit with their own reason for being so. She cares about one person and one person only and that's Lightshow. There's uh- a lot of mental stuff that goes on with her, mostly about morality.

They're a very sweet couple who balance each other out and take care of each other at every turn.

I do have........ very old reference sheets for them (I think Lights was made in like, 2015? And Vanilla got one in 2018 and a redesign in 2020) but they're the sorta thing I'm letting be buried in the sands of time. I'm not sure I'll ever revisit them in full, but they remain close to my lil heart.

#asks #oc vanilla #oc lightshow #ocs #long post #🍁 anon #finally I can infodump about older ocs YEAAAAAAAH

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

OK, I know this will probably be painful, and I may be a bad mutual for asking but...would you be willing to identify what, in your opinion are the bottom five worst Shadow adaptations, and give a detailed breakdown of why they were so lousy?

Oh christ, okay. I don't think you're gonna get as much of a detailed breakdown for these compared to some of the others, because I take more issue with adaptations that do have good qualities but also big or deep problems to talk about.

For example, I can't include Garth Ennis's Shadow in this list because the comic has a lot of strong points to it, despite a deeply, deeply detestable take on The Shadow's character, where as the rest of the Dynamite run doesn't reach neither the lows or highs of his run. Likewise, Andy Helfer's run has a couple or a couple dozen moments every issue that make me want to tear something to shreds in frustration, but it's also at many points a really good comic with great art and some occasionally very inspired writing. Really, I'd just be repeating myself talking about what I hate in those.

But, fine, let's list some of the others.

I think I'm just gonna have to get the elephant in the room out of the way here, and address that I won't be including Si Spurrier's 2017 Dynamite mini in this list, and I think at least some of you might be angry it's not Number 1 by default. I'm doing this because I intend to one day really revisit it, think about it and it's reception and what it was trying to do, and talk about it on it's own, now that it's been 5 years and everyone has moved on and we can maybe talk about it without kneejerk hatred driving everyone nuts (your mileage may vary on how warranted it was).

I'm also not going to be talking about James Patterson's new novel, because I haven't read it. It seems to be considered a forgettable potboiler by mainstream critics and a resounding failure by everyone who likes the character whether they've read the book or not, and frankly I don't have it in me to learn what the fuzz was about anytime soon, I got my hands way too full as is.

And I won't be including the Batman x Shadow crossovers here, because again, they do have a lot of virtues that put them far ahead of some of the really worst Shadow media, and I've talked enough about how badly I think they mangled The Shadow, which is really the big problem I have with them (well, that and Tim Sale blatantly copying a Michael Kaluta cover, that was really shitty). I don't really hate them anymore, I just get tired and frustrated thinking about parts of them, I said my piece as is. Really, my frustration over this comic is what inspired me to start writing about The Shadow here, so I guess in a way I do owe it at least that much.

5: Archie Comics's Shadow

I think some of you might be wondering why this isn't ranked higher, but to be honest, I don't actually harbor any hatred towards this. I mean, I have to include it, but I find it kinda silly that some people even today actually care about the existence of this comic enough to hate it.

For fans back then? Oh yeah, obviously, but this dropped to such instantaneous backlash that it never really got to live past 6 issues. Really, everything wrong about it can be understood immediately from the covers, and I've actually read the comic in it's entirety to see if there was anything worth taking. I found only a couple of things of note but, no, this really is just a painfully mediocre superhero comic that happens to have a couple of Shadow names in it. If anything, it gets too much credit.

The actual contents of what it is are never going to justify it's reputation, but the existence of it and the disproportionate response to it is the funniest and most enduring legacy it could ever ask for. This whole comic is The Shadow's version of Spongebob's embarassing Christmas photo.

4: David Liss's The Shadow Now

This is another "The Shadow as an immortal in modern times" comic and I think you may have noticed the pattern with those by now. I may revisit this eventually and I do have some moments from it saved for reference, but overall: It sucks, and it doesn't even suck in a way that lets me talk much about it, it's a diet version of Chaykin's Shadow. If Archie's Shadow is a generic mediocre superhero comic wearing The Shadow's name, this is a generic crime story playing beats from movie. The Shadow is an asshole and not even a grandiose or sinister one, he just feels like a sleazy douche in a costume. The art is a 50/50 coin toss between appropriately moody and "Google images with a filter on them", I don't remember anything about the plot other than Khan had a bomb again and he had a daughter, and there were new versions of the agents and the Harry stand-in turned evil and Lamont shacked up with Margo's descendant which, uh, no. I don't really hate this but I really have nothing nice to say about this comic other than Colton Worley's art is nice sometimes. I can't really muster anything else to say here.

3: Invisible Avenger

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZ...

...uuh, wha-

Yeah, I remember nothing about this one other than it's painfully boring and nothing about it, nothing at all, works in the slightest and I drift off to sleep even now trying to give this a rewatch. To be honest pretty much every other Shadow serial not starred by Victor Jory sucks and I don't really have anything to say about them, this one is just the worst of the lot. I dearly wish there was a good Shadow tv series but, if it was going to be like this pilot? Good riddance.

2: Harlan Ellison's The New York Review of Bird

This isn't really a Shadow story as much as it's a Harlan Ellison story that happens to feature The Shadow, but man am I glad that Ellison's "Dragon Shadows" was canned, because holy shit what a goddamn nightmare Harlan Ellison writing The Shadow for real could have been, going purely by the one time he ever touched the character. New York Review of Bird is a purely farcical parody story that wears real, real thin even before "Uncle Kent" shows up, and we get to see in it what is by far the most detestable and irredeemable take on The Shadow ever put on print, and not even in a critique or deconstructive way or anything that could be remotely worth discussing.

I don't hold any particular affection for Harlan Ellison and his writing (despite liking some of it) and I've come to notice the major red flag that is finding someone who looks up to Harlan Ellison in any capacity as a person, and this story in particular really feels like Ellison aggressively trying to channel his jackass tendencies through every line, just him being nasty because he built a personal brand on being nasty. The only reason this isn't Number One is because it's a very short story that saw zero influence or reputation, and thus it only exists as a brief mention in The Shadow wiki, and a brief mention is all it really calls for.

1: Howard Chaykin's Blood & Judgment

I'm guessing most of you already knew this one was in the top spot before I started writing.

I would actually rather not write a big piece on Blood & Judgment, because I think (or at least I hope) it's influence on The Shadow has waned a lot over the years and I would prefer to draw it the least amount of attention possible, but if I HAVE to talk about this, I guess I'd rather just vomit this out of my circuits now instead of giving it it's own post.

I would prefer to use a less unpleasant image on my blog, but if I'm going to talk about this comic, there's no image to better convey it than this drawing of macho asshole Cranston holding a sexualized mannequin at gunpoint. By leaps and bounds, Blood & Judgment is the most misogynistic Shadow story I've ever read. It's ironic that Chaykin justified the rampant misogyny he gave The Shadow with the idea that this is just a man from the 30s would act like, when he admits in the same breath that he never even touched the stories, and he wrote a story more sexist and demeaning to it's female characters than anything, literally anything, written in the Shadow pulps. It's almost impressive even.

I'll paste some segments from Randy Raynaldo's review

In Flagg, he intended to present his own point of view on American society while keeping his work tongue in cheek and acessible. But this vision dimmed, and Flagg had become a vehicle by which Chaykin could play out fetishes and portray gratuitous and stylish violence.

In The Shadow, stripped of the political and social veneer which was supposed to make Flagg unique, Chaykin's sensibilities and excesses become disturbingly apparent. For all of his liberal posturing, Chaykin's work demonstrates zero difference from the same kind of mentality exploited and made popular by similarly violent popular culture icons like Dirty Harry and Death Wish.

More than half a dozen individuals are indiscriminately and violently murdered in the first issue. Although the victims are characters who played major roles in the myth of The Shadow, we feel little sympathy for them, even for those of us who knew these characters at the outset. Who dies is unimportant, it's how they die that is the fascination.

Chaykin uses sexual decadence as a means by which to establish villains, and undercuts this device by making the protagonists as promiscuous as the villains. For all of Chaykin's seemingly liberal leanings, he demonstrates very little sensitivity in his portrayal of women.

Because everything works on rules of three, this comic also follows the pattern with other works mentioned here, as this isn't Howard Chaykin writing The Shadow: it's The Shadow reimagined as a Howard Chaykin character. He looks and acts exactly like Reuben Flagg and the typical macho protagonist of Chaykin's other works, he's a cynical sleaze with an entirely new origin who half-assedly dons a garb to machine gun people, and I already wrote a separate piece on why the machineguns are kind of emblematic of everything wrong with this take.

I understand that Chaykin has, or used to have, a big following of sorts, and I've tried to wrap my head around this for years, but I genuinely still don't get why Shadow fans stomach this comic unless they happen to be Chaykin fans first and foremost, I really don't. Everything, fucking everything Shadow fans hate about modern depictions of the character can be traced right back to this. The parts that stuck and changed the character for the worse, like him being defined as an immortal, bloodthirsty warmonger who got all his skills and powers from a magic city in Tibet, or Lamont Cranston being a coward who fears and hates the Shadow, or his agents being expendable slaves, stuff that has been ingrained into the mythos through this and the Alec Baldwin movie and other comics, to the point that people now think of it as the norm, that it's the baseline of what The Shadow is, and I hate it, I genuinely fucking hate it,

I hate it so much that it's a big part of the reason why I created this blog and why I want so badly to get to write The Shadow, because I plainly couldn't stand not having ways to tell people that this is all wrong, that this is actively shooting down the character's odds for success, and that they are missing out on something really great, because the well has been tainted with garbage that won't go away and everytime I read the words Shambala in a Shadow comic, even an otherwise good or great one, I get just a wee bit cross.

The only semi-redeeming aspects I can think of for this comic is one or two cool moments, like when The Shadow hijacks a concert using his Devil's Whisper or when he tames dogs with a stare. Just breadcrumbs of "not garbage" amidst an ocean of anything but. I hate that talking about why I hate this comic in-length can almost feel like I'm still enticing people to check it out of curiosity, but if you wanna do that, fine, just know this: The worst part of Blood & Judgment, even if you don't care at all about what it did to The Shadow, is that it's boring.

It is a deeply boring comic. If you like Howard Chaykin to begin with, you'll probably like this okay (although even Chaykin fans told me that this is his weakest work and that even he seems to agree). If you don't, I plain don't see what you could get out of this.

The comic itself is just nothing. It's the comic book equivalent of a pre-schooler trying to get a reaction by swearing. It has nothing whatsoever other than half-assed attempts at shock value. The plot isn't there, the ideas are stale, the dialogue is needlessly oblique and comprised entirely of unfinished sentences, interrupted conversations and one-liners without build-up. The characters are all unlikable and uninteresting stooges with no personality, or joyless cartoons. There's no heart or emotion or logic, and it isn't even funny enough to succeed as just an outrageous exercise in 80s excess. There's nothing in here.

I get "why" it was popular enough at the time, a rising star creator penning a modern revival of an old character based on controversy that pissed off the old fans, it's an old story that still gets repeated today. But manufactured controversy is not a replacement for storytelling and it rarely ever exists to benefit the people who actually want to enjoy the stories, it only benefits those for the crude benefit of those who want to sell you something out of the controversy.

I guess they got their money's worth back then.

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

Phew, okay, I did it, I finally vomited out a piece on Blood & Judgment and some others, allright, let's put this piece of negativity behind us now.

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #shadow comics #shadow films #dc comics

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mego42 · 3 years

Text

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them.

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers

another grief study!

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!!

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!!

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio?

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is?

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

#fingers crossed these links are right i did not double check #i like to live on the edge #truly mind boggling amount of fluff on this list i surprised myself on that one #no i will not at any point get my shit together enough to write out thoughtful commentary this is a shit posting blog first last and always #fic recs #gg fic #nbc good girls #i'll come up with a tag for these if i ever do them again #check back 37 years from now #or ~~~~~~march #whatever that means

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

Text

Ectober Day 4: Youth - Weeping Flesh And Bone Chap.1: Can’t Stop Those Feet From Sinking

Lancer has seen plenty of troubled youths over the years, but when it comes down to it? No one’s worried or concerned him like Daniel does. And no one’s left him feeling as helpless either.

Lancer’s used to worrying about Daniel, had worried about the boy all his young life. From the day he was born into a dangerous house and possibly negligent parents. He worried over Jasmine too, of course; but she had always done well for herself. Her future was to be a bright one.

He’d hoped the same for Daniel. And with Jasmine there, that hope felt founded. In the beginning, that hope seemed founded and actualised. The boy was bright and happy. He was bullied sure, but he had a strong future and the drive for it. The keyword there was ‘had’ though. Because Highschool came and Daniel just...

Collapsed.

If Lancer were to use the kind of terminology that would make the boy smile, he’d say that it was like Daniel was a star that just burned too bright and too hot only to suddenly die and annihilate everything nearby.

Where the boy was once happy and eager, he became paranoid and seemingly too tired to care about anything. Where there was once perfect attendance and near-flawless homework, changed to the worst attendance Lancer’s ever seen and it had been as if the word ‘homework’ wasn’t even a thing to the boy anymore. And that was without even getting started on all the destruction of school property or the injuries.

The injuries were when Lancer’s worry over Daniel truly made itself known again. Depression and abuse both crossed his mind. Or maybe the bullying was getting worse. But there weren’t any other signs really. And it wasn’t just him.

It was his friends too. Sure they never seemed as hurt or as tired or as tardy, but still. If this wasn’t Amity, he’d have worried that they’d gotten involved in gangs or even possibly drugs. Those were functionally nonexistent in Amity though.

How all three seemed to handle the injuries so well and clearly by themselves, hurt him inside a little, but could he really inquire about it? He tried. He tried many times. But he was always waved off. Always given an excuse or sympathetic look. Like Daniel felt bad for Lancer over him being worried. Lancer didn’t want to make Daniel feel bad and his talks with the boy never seemed to change anything.

So he dropped it. And instead just hoped the boy would be okay. He had close friends and a smart level-headed sister. Jasmine being close with him was what really made Lancer feel a bit better. She wouldn’t let anything truly bad happen to her baby brother. She would speak up if something was truly wrong. She’d come to Lancer or someone else qualified if Daniel needed it. In fact, she had done that once or twice.

Then she was gone. Left for university. And Lancer worried more. Sure he was so very proud of the girl, but Daniel honestly needed her to stay. Lancer needed her to stay just to sleep better at night. Because Lancer knew Samatha and Tucker wouldn’t reach out for anyone. Jasmine would get help if that was what was best and needed. But the trio would likely let one of them nearly die before seeking help, and even that was debatable. Lancer had hoped dearly that his increased worry was unnecessary when Daniel didn’t seem to get worse.

Until he did get worse. Lancer wouldn’t have even noticed if he didn’t watch the boy as closely as he did. Daniel was simply too good at hiding things and pretending. That honestly terrified Lancer. Just the same as catching the whiffs of alcohol or sight of hard pain meds had terrified him. And even worse, that seemingly coincided with the boy seeming less stable. He twitched often and that paranoia of his was near-constant. Lancer put it together quickly, Jasmine’s main focus was psychology. She wanted to be a therapist.

Well, it seemed she already had been a therapist. She had been giving him mental help. Which just made Lancer doubt that belief that she would take Daniel to get proper help if he needed it. Which just made him even more worried that something bad was happening. Yet still, Daniel wouldn’t talk to him. And trying just seemed to make the boy more tired every time. Lancer backed off again when Daniel started seemingly avoiding any classes with him.

He was silently happy when Daniel started actually showing to and choosing his classes again.

Because if Lancer couldn’t help, then at least he could keep a watchful eye. And he could do what he could and try to keep the trio all in the same classes, keep them together. At least then there was someone to take notes for him when he slept, skipped, or left.

But then they were gone too.

Lancer doesn’t know how it happened. Or why. All he knows is that between their junior year and senior year, Samantha’s and Tucker’s priorities changed. Sure he was happy to see them trying harder in school and doing better because of it. Their futures would arguably thank them. But the cost was Daniel.

Where the trio had once been inseparable and constantly there for each other, now Samantha and Tucker seemingly near forgot Daniel even existed. Like they were doing everything they could to have nothing to do with him. They would wave to him sometimes. Throw him smiles. But would physically and verbally avoid him. And the worst thing was...

Daniel seemed to just accept this. Seemed to understand. Like he thought this was for the best.

The boy didn’t try to chase after them, never engaged them first, went on like this was what was supposed to happen. Lancer had been too stunned to even ask what happened. To check-in with the boy. The pit in his stomach and the growing fear in the back of his head only grew when he noticed that Samantha and Tucker didn’t seem to get injuries anymore. How they seemed well-rested, happier, and arguably normal.

While if Daniel had been dancing on the edge of a cliff before, now he had seemingly plummeted off it. In the months it took for Lancer to put himself together enough to talk to the boy, he doesn’t think a single day went by were Daniel wasn’t noticeably injured. Listening to the gossip of teachers made it clear he was sleeping in nearly every single class, hadn’t touched any homework, and was effectively failing everything. Lancer’s breaking point had been running into him at the bottle recycle, with nothing but liquor bottles and energy drink cans.

“This looks worse than it is”.

Lancer had raised an eyebrow, “does it?”. He knew better than to push too much with the boy. Daniel had been shuffling and twitching enough as it was.

Daniel had shrugged while looking around and tapping his fingers, clearly wanting the worker to hurry up. “‘S not all mine”.

“Your parents’ don’t drink, Daniel”.

“Uh, it... doesn’t affect me as hard as other people?”.

Lancer had just sighed, had bitten back the retort of that just being what happens when people build up a tolerance by drinking too much too often. Instead had given the boy a sad look as he left with his depressingly large amount of cash.

That night he had had a hard time sleeping, seriously worrying over wondering if Daniel was in his room or off in the park, alone and curled up with a bottle. Or doing whatever it was that got him so seriously hurt. He was so terrified that he, and everyone else, would only find out when Daniel ended up in the morgue. When the teen was found bleeding out in an alley. Or unable to be woken up, wrapped in heavy blankets and a bottle on the floor. Or, everything forbid, at the end of a noose.

Lancer’s used to worrying about Daniel, but this was too much. Part of him had wanted to call Daniel’s parents, that idea had gotten him staring at his phone for well over an hour. But he already knew they had written Daniel off. He had tried to talk to them before, they just brushed his worry off. Even chastised Daniel for ‘making Mr. Lancer worry over a kid who’s just lazy’. And they either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Daniel had been shaking. Lancer had revisited the idea that Daniel was being abused that night. But there simply was no way Jasmine wouldn’t have spoken up about that. None.

So that worry, that he just simply couldn’t sit on anymore, was what finds him here now. Physically grabbing Daniel’s sweater sleeve to stop him from leaving class. Hating how the boy twitches violently and looks to Lancer like he was about to get attacked. Not for the first time Lancer finds himself wondering what kind of Hell the world has put this teen through.

“Yes?”.

Lancer knows he won’t get Daniel to open up to him. To be honest with him. So instead he’s blunt, “you’re not okay. And I wish you would tell me, or anyone, why. You’re always hurt and tired. You’re coping with liquor, Daniel. Something’s very wrong. And it doesn’t seem like anyone around you even cares. Your parents have seemingly written you off. Jasmine is away. And Samantha and Tucker seemed to have forgotten you even exist half the time”.

Daniel scratches almost harshly at his arm and flicks his eyes around, “it’s fine”.

Lancer tightens his grip on the boy’s sweater, noting how little of the sweater sleeve the boy’s arm was actually filling up. He wasn’t eating enough. “No it’s goddamn not”.

Daniel blinks at him owlishly and stills, Lancer thinks it actually looks a little bit creepy. “you... you just swore”.

Lancer flicks his eyes over Daniel’s face. Noticing the hollowed cheeks and eye-bags that could be mistaken for eyeliner. “Because I care, Daniel. I’m goddamn terrified for you. I’m scared you’re dying. That I’m going to wake up to the news saying you were found dead or committed suicide. You need some kind of help and you’re clearly not getting it”.

Daniel shrugs awkwardly, clearly trying to play things off, “uh, I’m, uh, just bad at life?”. Lancer can’t help but glare at that, watching the boy's shoulders slump a little, “sorry. I don’t mean to worry you. Just, please, just ignore me? I promise the town won’t have to, um, bury me”. Daniel grabs at Lancer’s hand like he’s begging, “I’m still here, that’s not going to change. So please, just pretend I’m okay”, shrugging and looking away, “um, eventually you’ll convince yourself I am”.

Lancer blinks, is that what his friends were doing? Just pretending he was okay? That he didn’t need help? “I can’t do that, Daniel”.

Daniel looks back to him and snaps, though it’s clear to Lancer that it’s out of tiredness, “and why the Hell not”. Then looking to the ground and leaning away from him a bit, “sorry. It’s just... it would be better. You don’t belong here. Er, involved in me and my, um, stuff”, shrugging and maintaining his staring match with the floor, “‘s not like anything can change”, shrugging again, “save yourself by staying out of it. You’re more, um, breakable”.

Lancer bends down and moves his head to look Daniel in the eyes, “that doesn’t make sense, Daniel. You’re young-”

Daniel snaps again, glaring a little and cutting Lancer off, “yeah well the truth doesn’t have to make sense, does it”. Shrugging and glancing around, scratching at his arm some more, “sorry. Look, just, I’ll be gone after this year. And you can just, um, forget about me?”, shrugging and mumbling, “everyone else hopefully will”.

This is the most Lancer’s ever gotten out of the boy, he has to push this. He has to. “Why? And no, Daniel, I will not just forget about you”.

Daniel mumbles again, “just gonna get hurt”, then looks up at him, “‘cause, just ‘cause. It’s better. You got a life, they’ve got futures. Just, drop it please?”.

Lancer can tell he’s referring to his friends basically pushing him to the wayside. Lancer sighs slightly, it seems like Daniel had simply... given up hope for himself. “And you don’t?”.

Lancer’s stomach clenches when Daniel responds with a firm sure, “no”. Lancer physically sagging and drops his hand from Daniel’s sleeve at the sight of mist leaving the boy’s mouth. Daniel always ran off when that, whatever it was, happened. And sure enough, Daniel jerks and snaps his head around, “just, forget you ever met me. Forget I even exist. Please. And I, uh-”.

Lancer waves him off defeatedly, “go”. He can tell that Daniel feels bad when the boy winces before rushing off.

While Lancer just sits on the edge of his desk. It was pretty clear Daniel was effectively alone and had no intention of changing that. Even wanted that. He was a house that had all its support beams smashed out, barely holding itself up at all. And there was something, some awful dangerous thing, haunting that house. Chasing off anyone trying to install new support structures.

Lancer goes home that night feeling honestly worse than before. And worried that all he had achieved was making Daniel feel worse too.

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captainillogical · 4 years

Text

Home Ch.3

The domesticity of living with an alien who hasn’t quite had the chance at a normal life.

Distant Lands sequel.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

Chapter Rating: Explicit

A/N: I’m sorry about the previous version guys, wasn’t my intention to write it that way, and thanks for all the feedback. Changed some things, added another thousand or so words, and re-wrote some dialogue. Thank you Star for all your help p:

This chapter is NSFW. I’m pretty sure one of the people that sent me shit was a minor, so I’d like to say this again, ya’ll. No minors.

"Why do 'ya seem a little out of breath? You run up the stairs?" Your girlfriend asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No reason," You lie, she doesn't need to know of whatever that was. It was probably nothing, anyway. You're just paranoid. "Met another human that lives a few floors down from us though."

"Another human lives here? Huh," She answers, interested. She's got half your boxes open, and has already stacked most of the books inside your bookcase in the living room. It's.. it's stacked like a fire hazard. You don't know what you were expecting. "Bismuth did say that more humans were starting to live in this area. Was he nice?"

"Yeah, he did ask me a lot of questions about you though."

She gives you a particular look. "Why'd he ask about me.."

"I might've mentioned I was living with my girlfriend." You say sheepishly.

"Aw jeez," She groans, wiping her face a bit dramatically with her gloved hand.

"Am I supposed to keep quiet about it?"

"No! No. I just haven't had the chance to tell any of our neighbors about it yet." She replies guiltily. She pushes a twintail over her shoulder, getting it out of the way as she digs into an open box.

"Spinel!" You hiss out.

"What! I've been busy!" She wails. "And also, two of the quartzes on this floor are such huge gossips that I've maybe avoided the conversation with them! They've pried SO much already about my past and it's kinda 'irritatin. I know once they figure out that you're livin' with me, they're gonna bombard me with even more questions."

"Ugh, okay, you get a pass today."

"Today," She repeats, deadpan. "I should get a pass whenever."

"Nah, you're not special enough." You chuckle, grabbing some of your books to restack them into something actually resembling a bookcase.

"I am to you," She pouts a little, which is really endearing.

"Ehhhhhhh," You start, sarcastically, until you feel a pinch on your ass and you cut off mid sentence to yelp. You whip your head around to glare at your girlfriend. "Spinel!"

"Deserved it." She grins, peering at you from the side. You contemplate throwing a book at her, but your stomach rumbles instead.

"Can you finish opening all of these boxes? I'm gonna make myself some food real quick," You say, finishing restacking that one shelf and walking into the kitchen. "I wanna be completely unpacked tonight if possible. I hate moving for this reason."

You hear her make an offended noise from the living room. "Was how I stacked these not good enough for you?!"

"I hate to break this to you, but like," You pause to open your fridge, rifling through what you bought earlier. "Pretty sure they were one bump away from being all over the floor."

"Looked fine to me."

"Have you ever had to organize anything, ever?" You take the ingredients out to make a sandwich, plopping the contents on the counter.

"..I think I'm more of the fun type, personally." She answers, and you hear her toss an empty box off to the side. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and opt to ignore it for a little bit while you feed yourself.

"Yeah? You think so?" You snicker, adding an extra slice of cheese to your ham sandwich. "I thought you were more of the 'village idiot' type."

She sputters, and you walk out of the kitchen with your sandwich in hand to see her glaring at you non-threateningly. "That's more of a you type."

"No way! You don't even have any proof." You take a bite out of your food in hand, watching her pull out some of your cute plushies that Steven has gifted you over the years. Sandwich is a bit dry.. shoulda put on more mayo. Oh well.

"Are 'ya fuckin' kidding me?" She stares at you, deadpan. Her left eye is twitching. "Why don't we revisit everything that happened on Golgotha? Hmmmmm?"

"Okay that's not completely fair," You take another bite, and chew it thoughtfully. "It's not like I asked for that to happen to me. It was all self preservation. Besides, it's not like you made it easy."

She opens her mouth to retort with something just as an arm comes out of your hair - she screams, making you drop your sandwich.

"W-WHAT IS THAT!?"

You grab the arm, and yank Steven out of the portal he's created through your hair. He tumbles to the floor, groaning and rubbing his butt.

"You could just, like, I don't know, knock?!" You hiss out at him, patting the side of your head. That was.. uh. That felt weird.

"Maybe you should read your texts sometime!" He groans, flopping on the floor, arms out. "My poor back.."

"My fucking sandwich," You sigh, feeling sad for what could've been your life had you been able to eat the rest of it. "You owe me another one."

"I'll make you twenty if you help me not embarrass myself in front of Connie's mom again."

"Deal." You grab his hand, helping lift him off the floor, and throw the rest of your destroyed sandwich into the garbage bin.

"Am I 'gonna get an explanation for that or are we ignoring it." Spinel says as she stares at the two of you like you've each grown another head.

"Oh, he can just do that now that he pink’d me.” You answer quite bluntly, and Steven opens his mouth in offense.

“Don’t call it that! But she’s technically right.” He gives you a tired look, and it makes you feel a little gleeful that you can still get this kind of reaction out of him whenever you want. “I can do it with Lars too, but he’s taken to threatening me whenever I do it now.”

“You interrupt him in the bathroom again?” You grin at him, and his cheeks color slightly.

“No!” He says all too quickly.

“Wait,” Spinel lowers her eyes to you, getting a strange expression on her face. She walks closer to you. “He can do that just whenever?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m sure he’ll ask beforehand, but yes,” You reply to her, watching as she lifts a hand to your head. “What’re you-”

“-does that mean I can?” She jabs the side of your head with her gloved hand without waiting for an answer - you slap her hand away as Steven laughs.

“No,” You sigh, Spinel only looking a little put out. “Steven’s the only gem who can. That would be a nightmare otherwise.”

“Anyway, I also came over to give you an update.” Steven clears his throat.

“For what?” You ask, now concerned. “Couldn’t you have just texted?”

“What, so you can just not look at it or text me back?” He shoots a pointed look at you, and you only feel a little bit guilty. “No, I needed to change your schedule specifically to fit around two others, so your first lesson got moved up to a bigger slot. It’s tomorrow. I’m sorry for the short notice.”

You stare at him, unsure of what to say.

“If you’re not ready, I can have Pearl take over for the time being-”

“-No! No. It’s fine, I just needed to mentally adjust to it.” You shake your head vigorously, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. You feel the anxiety swirling in your gut, but you manage to push most of it down for now. “I’m basically done with all my prep for it, anyway.”

“Only if you’re sure, Y/N.” He looks at you like he’s waiting for your face to betray you of something, but you ignore it. “Because you can talk to me if you’re-”

“It’s fine, Steven.” You cut him off. “You worry too much. Besides, you’ve got bigger things on your plate. Y’know, like Mrs. Maheswaran’s divine judgement.”

“Ugggggghhh, thanks for the reminder.” He wipes his hand down his face dramatically. “She wants me to come over for dinner this weekend so she can talk to the two of us about something. I’m not even sure what.”

“Buddy, you know she’s gonna grill you about your future.” You reply, and peer into the open box to the left of you. It’s full of kitchen supplies.

“That’s guaranteed.” He sighs, grabbing some of the items from you and putting them away. Of course he’s helping without any kind of prompt. “I don’t mind it, but I’d like a single dinner with them where I’m not feeling like I’m putting on some kind of performance.”

Your anxiety is still at the forefront of your mind.

“It can’t be that bad.” Spinel turns to him, breaking down the empty box in her hand.

“You’ve never met Mrs. Maheswaran.” He retorts, placing your tea infusers into the silverware drawer and shutting it with a clank. “You have no idea what it feels like to talk to her. Sure she’s nice, but it’s like she’s always watching you under a little microscope..”

Spinel gives him some kind of snide response and snickers, and you hear Steven chuckle and holler out something in reply to that - but you had somehow tuned out the words as you opened the box to your bathroom supplies.

“Give me a few, I’m gonna put all these away real quick,” You manage to say to them before ducking into the bathroom, neither of them seeming to notice your brief change in mood as you leave the door three-quarters closed.

You can still hear them making jabs at each other while Steven talks to Spinel about all the pressure Connie’s mom has put him under the last few years, and you set your box down on the toilet.

Uggghhh, okay. You can deal with this. You have no idea why something as simple as moving a lesson up two days is fucking you up this much, but you’re gonna have to deal with it anyway. Why the fuck are you so nervous? You’ve dealt with worse. You have your lessons ready - they’re basic things anyway. It’s easy. Sure, there’s a big crowd for attendance which is a little unheard of, but maybe more gems want to befriend and understand humans than you had previously considered.

You grab your box of hair ties and scrunchies, and shove them under the sink. You don’t need extras right now. You can still feel the anxiety there, under your skin. You pick up your blow dryer and straightener, placing those down as well. Why did Steven seem like he was expecting you to back out?

Does he think you’re incapable of handling this? Is this some kind of test?

You pull out your phone to text Amethyst.

[21:42] Y/N: Quick question.

[21:42] Y/N: You think I’m capable of teaching those classes?

You set your phone down after hitting send, and grab all your soaps to put away as you wait for a reply. Spinel’s voice rings out from the living room, and you focus on the sound of it for the time being. You reach into the box again, and pull out all your hair dye supplies from a while ago.

Huh.

You turn the container of bleach around in your hand.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, and try not to wince at the reflection. You probably couldn’t.. right? You don’t think that your hair would take any kind of bleach or dye now. The utter irony is that you’ve experimented with every single other color for your hair before this, claiming you would never try pink to Steven.. and now it’s.. permanent.

Your phone buzzes on the counter. You pick it up.

[21:44] Amethyst: uhh.. yeah?

[21:44] Amethyst: the fuck you asking for?

Okay, well. Now you just seem paranoid.

[21:44] Y/N: No reason..

Your fingers are hovering over the keyboard, and as you’re figuring out what to continue to type, she shoots a text back nearly instantly.

[21:45] Amethyst: :/

You put your phone back into your pocket. You don’t really feel like asking what that face is for, because you think you know the answer.

You finish putting away the remnants of what was left in the box, and walk back out into the living room where Steven and Spinel are now talking about how he met Connie. You throw your empty box off to the side, and look at all the stuff you have left to unpack on the floor. It’s not much left, you’re well over two-thirds done at this point, and ohhhhhhhhhhh you forgot about your laundry.

You let the other two know that you’ll be back in a few - Spinel shoots you a look that you ignore, and you head downstairs.

Your mind wanders nervously the entire way down, and the laundry room is empty when you arrive to get your clothes. Amethyst texts you again, asking you if you're okay, and you shoot her a quick 'yup just peachy'. You get your dry clothes, placing them into your hamper, and you scurry back to your floor to avoid any weird confrontations.

When you get back inside, you manage to catch the tail end of a quiet mutter from Steven to Spinel before he quickly runs his sentence into something else, and at an increased volume to avoid suspicion. You opt to pretend you didn't notice, and you easily slide back into the conversation as the three of you finish what you had set out tonight to accomplish.

Steven ends up leaving the normal way after you and him have a heavy discussion laying on your living room floor about his dinner problem, and he gives you an especially hard hug after letting you know he'll drop by after your lesson tomorrow to see how it goes with lunch that he now owes you.

The door in front of you closes with a click, and you lock it for the night. Not that you're expecting anyone to barge in, but force of habit.

You're weirdly mentally exhausted.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower. I feel kinda gross." Is what you hear coming out of your mouth, and you move to grab fresh laundry out of your pile that you left on the couch.

“I’m gonna try to finally figure out how to work this TV, then.” She replies, and you make your way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You place your clean clothes on the toilet lid as you turn the shower on, letting the room fill up with steam as you take off your clothes and kick them into the corner to deal with later. You don't really wanna take a shower in silence, so you opt to put some music on in the background.

You pull the curtain back, steam rolling out and hitting you directly in the face as you step inside the tub. It's so scaldingly hot that you barely manage to hold back a scream as you adjust the temp and stand away from the stream.

After a couple seconds or so the water finally gets to a more reasonable temperature and you stand underneath it to let it soak you. It feels nice.

You look down to grab your shampoo, but instead see the gnarly scar on your stomach, and stop. You stare at it a while. The raised skin along the outer ring of where you basically got hole-punched feels weird. It's also a slightly darker pink than the rest of your skin, which you're still not really used to when you get a glimpse of yourself.

You remember the feeling of being pierced, and decide to stop thinking about this all together for now.

You grab the shampoo bottle and pour some into your hand, rubbing it into your scalp. You feel your muscles relax.

The door to the bathroom opens and closes, and all of a sudden you hear the shower curtain being pulled back.

"Do you MIND." You slap your arms around yourself self consciously, still having soap in your hair. You can't see shit but you know it's Spinel.

"Pfft, 'ya act like I've never seen you naked. Anyway, I just wanted to know how to turn on the TV? I can’t figure it out." She asks, letting the colder air of the bathroom in, and you can hear some water hitting the floor.

"Will you close the curtain," You reach out, grabbing the edge of the vinyl liner, just as Spinel opens it wider to step inside with you. "-what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oh, the water’s warm? This doesn’t feel too bad," You rinse the rest of your shampoo out, just to see her fully clothed half a foot from you, hand reaching out to touch the stream of water. Your heart is beating wildly - but you find yourself at ease with her presence in here, oddly enough. She’s watching you curiously.

"What, you can't figure the TV out yourself? And you thought I took cold showers, really?!" You scoff at her, unfazed at this point by her antics. "The fact that you're in here with clothes on kinda says everything about you."

"I can take 'em off." She says to you, like, duh Y/N, don't you even know me by now? You glare at her, which isn't hard since there's water being sprayed onto you and into your eyes, and she phases off her clothes, shoes and all in an instant. "Better?" She asks, like she’s doing you a favor.

"Gems don't need to take showers." You deadpan at her. "And weren't you trying to figure out the TV?"

"Just because I don't need to doesn't mean I can't. Also, I could help 'ya." She says cheekily, grinning a little.

"I don't need help bathing myself," You roll your eyes at her in jest, water starting to drench her hair. You think it’s really cute that she offers, but you’re sure she just wants a chance at messing around with you. Not that you’d really mind right now, and well.. you school your face into one that isn’t obvious to what you’re currently thinking about. You try not to focus too much on her gemstone in the middle of her chest, or her breasts, or those soft looking shoulders, or the rest of her naked expanse of skin - you need to stop before you get carried away. "..but I bet you would."

“Are ‘ya saying I can’t figure out something as simple as bathing? Something I’ve watched you do? Wow. I’m hurt, Y/N.” She feigns offense, looking around at the bottles of soap and shampoo products you have in here, picking them up and starting at the labels.

“Then try it.” You watch her eye a bar of soap, and then pick it up with her wet hands. It almost shoots out of her hands at you, and she barely manages to keep it within her grip hilariously enough.

“See, I know what I’m doing,” She says stubbornly, bringing the bar up to her nose to smell it. She rubs a bit of the suds off, wiping it on her palm curiously. All of a sudden, you get a really good idea.

“Yeah, and if you actually did, you’d know that that’s what I use to clean the inside of my mouth.” You raise your eyebrows at her, begging your own face to not betray you.

“Wait, really?!” Her eyes widen, giving you a slightly disturbed look. She peers at the soap, bringing it closer to her face. “I mean, it smells good and the shape is right..”

She licks it, and immediately gags. The look on her face of utter disgust is the best thing you’ve seen all week.

“AUUUUGH,” She wails, pushing her face into the water to scrape off the remaining soap, and the laugh that comes out of your mouth is so loud it echoes throughout the bathroom. “Y/N!”

“Gullible.” Is all you can say between laughs, and she musters a glare at you.

“I trusted you!”

“That was your mistake.” You retort with a grin. “I don’t eat soap. I’m surprised you believed that.”

“Never AGAIN.” She gags one more time, and you grab for your bottle of conditioner.

“Here, lemme show you.” You step outside of the constant stream of water, and trade places with Spinel. Once you’re done rubbing the conditioner into your own hair, you grab your shampoo for her. You look at her drenched in water, watching you closely. You won’t lie when it makes your heart flutter in your chest, and it feels a little like falling. “Can you take your hair down for this?”

“Oh, sure,” She makes quick work of undoing her hair, and yeah, you’re definitely staring at her now. You’re having a really hard time hiding it. Getting some shampoo in your hand, you have her step out of the water for a moment and start rubbing it into her scalp. She relaxes so much into your touch that you feel your heart start to beat a little faster. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” You answer.

“You seemed kind of off earlier.” She says, and you quickly rip your gaze from her. She definitely notices. “I could just.. tell.”

“It’s nothing, really.” You sigh, rubbing small circles into her scalp. You were kind of hoping she’d brush it off, but noooooo. She has to be observant.

She grabs your hands to still your motions momentarily, giving you a more serious look. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah, I’m just anxious about tomorrow, I’ll get over it.” You meet her eyes again, and hers waver between yours as if she’s searching for a different answer. Like she doesn’t really believe you, even though honestly, that’s all it really is. You feel a little something there in your chest when you realize that she’s only like this because she actually cares about you. “Don’t worry about me.” You insist, not really wanting to overthink the day you’ve got ahead of you.

“Want me to come to the lesson?" She offers as she drops your hands, tilting her head in question; a glob of shampoo suds run down the side of her neck. The sight is weirdly enticing.. or maybe you’re just a little pent up. Being here alone with her after what feels like forever, and naked on top of that has your brain thinking of things you probably shouldn’t be thinking of right now.

You’re only a little ashamed of yourself.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Spinel. You’ll just give me performance anxiety.” You resume massaging her scalp, managing to get some shampoo also into her ends. You briefly have a passing thought about not wanting to dry out her long strands, because split ends at this hair length fucking blow, and then you remember she’s a gem. That doesn’t even matter. You feel a little jealous that she doesn’t have to put these kinds of thoughts into her daily routine.

"I wouldn't do anything, promise. Maybe a comment or two, but that's it." She retorts as she brings her palms up in feign offense, and you push her gently back by her shoulders under the stream of water to rinse out her hair, careful to not get her eyes. She sighs as you run your fingers against her scalp, eyes nearly drooping she’s so relaxed. "This feels really nice.." She mumbles, and the way it has your heart feeling like someone’s dropped pop rocks into it..

"I know you have work to do tomorrow though, so don't shirk your duties.” You’re basically caressing her head at this point, and she’s totally leaning into it completely. You have a feeling if you dropped your hands from her head, it’d slam into a wall. “I'll ask Garnet to sit in since she offered."

"Y/N." She looks at you, water running down her hair and face, cascading over her small shoulders. The marks beneath her eyes are strikingly dark in this light, and her pink irises are locked onto yours. You're barely listening to the lofi song playing in the background as it's mainly drained out by the white noise of the shower. She's pretty, in a way that you probably think she's never considered before, and sometimes you wish you could say this out loud without feeling like you'd combust on the spot instead. She then opens her mouth almost hesitantly, like she's finding the proper words to say. "If 'ya need me, I can be there. But.. you're kind of the bravest person I know by a long shot, so.. I know you'll be okay. You've got this, doll."

You feel your face burning at the pet name and her words, and you find yourself avoiding her eyes again. You can’t even think of a reply, and feel like you might have a heart attack.

"Are you blushing?!" She grabs your forearms in glee, and you feel your face scowling just to cover up the fact that she can have this kind of effect on you. No one has this effect on you, and goddammit you’re not about to start showing it now.

"No, idiot. It's just hot in here.." You retort, and she leans right into your personal space, about an inch from your face. Your heartbeats feel so INCREDIBLY loud in your ears.

"Liar." Her grin gets wider, and you can see her canines right there at the edge of her lip. WHY is she so attractive?! This should be illegal. "I can keep talking 'ya up if that's what you need."

"Not necessary, or needed, really.." You trail off awkwardly, knowing your face is still beet red and pretending it’s from the heat of the shower.

"Did'ja know that you're also the funniest person I know? And the smartest? And the sexi-"

"-SPINEL." You cut her off with a choke, voice coming out all strangled.

"You've got 'ta be the most stubborn person alive, I swear." She lowers her eyes, gaze lingering on your lips. The way some of her water-logged hair clings to her skin has your eyes glued to her chest, and the gem that sits upon it.

"You should spend a few weeks hanging out with Pearl." You try to play it off cool, and you’re anything but.

"Why, when I'd rather spend it with you." She retorts with an eyeroll, and like, you know that the both of you have your affections laid out on the metaphorical table already, but you still find your face burning at her being so clear with it. “If it’s not compliments ‘ya want, I can be a distraction?” She asks, and then blinks several times rapidly in succession very comically, and you can’t help it but laugh.

“Yeah? And how?” You ask stupidly.

“Ohhhh, remember earlier in the kitchen?”

Your eyes snap to hers. Is she..

"Wait, you’re talking about doing it in the sho-"

She yanks your arms - pulling you forward into a kiss, and your foot slips so hard on the tub floor that you have to catch yourself on her shoulders. Her laughter rings out through the bathroom.

"Oh stars, Y/N falling into my arms? I never thought-"

"Shut uuuuuuuup," You groan, glaring at her. The thought of the two of you, here, fucking in the shower is swirling inside your head. Both of you are wet and pressed together, and you are screaming internally. "You're the one that caught me off guard, asshole."

"Maybe I just wanna see you swooning, for once. Or squirming. I'm not too choosy." The grin on her face mixed with her words has you feeling some kind of way, and you try to still your rapidly beating heart. She wants to see you squirm?! You're flattered, and also embarrassed..

"I don't swoon, Spinel. You know me better than that by now. And if you couldn't make me squirm before all this, when we weren't even friends, then good fucking luck with trying that out now that I'm familiar with you." You spit out, hoping the nervousness in your voice doesn't give you away. She doesn't need to know that you like it when she's a little aggressive and grabby. That would give her too much power.

Her eyes flicker across your face, catching onto something within your expression; her grin widens.

"Then why do you seem so nervous now?"

"Uh," Your heart jumps into your throat, and you feel the red creeping back onto your cheeks. Curse your now-pink complexion. "Pffft. What? I do not! Why the hell do you think I'm nervous!?" You lie, and it comes out of your throat an octave higher you think, which is fucking embarassing really.

"Well," She chuckles briefly, and then her face drops considerably into an expression you'd deem nearly sinister if you didn't know her.

"Um-"

She pushes you back against the shower wall behind you hard - a squeak comes out your mouth - as the air leaves your lungs, her hand splayed out on your chest into holding you there. It feels almost like silence has filled the room, when it's quite the opposite actually - the sound of the water hitting you both is quite deafening as you stare at each other. You think she can feel your heartbeats. Like, her hand is RIGHT THERE. Her thumb even rubs the skin there a little.

"I'm starting to think you like it when I manhandle you." She says, voice low. Her fingers are pressing into your sternum.

You take the time to breathe in some air, and try to blink like a normal person. A droplet of water runs down your lower spine and you fight off a shiver. Are you really that easy to read!?

"Your silence is speaking volumes right now." She chuckles, eyes watching you like a hawk.

You have no idea what your face is displaying, but it's probably something similar to mortified shock - how can she keep hitting the nail on the head?

"Oh, shit, am I hurting you?" She quickly pulls her hands away, nearly looking frantic as her face twists into worry at your silence.

"No, of course not-" You stop, getting a weird look on your face. "-I died, remember? You can't, pfft, - I mean you can, but. Spinel." You try not to laugh, because her being worried about this is extremely endearing, and you love her so, so much. "You're not hurting me, and if you were, I'd make sure you knew."

"Okay, good, because I was really worried there for a second that I had-"

"It's fine." You reassure her, and she's looking at you intently. "Seriously."

"Like, you know that I'd rather poof myself than ever put a finger on 'ya, right?"

"I'm aware, and you know that I trust you, yes?"

"I was 'kinda worried, but, it's clear now." She's so very close to your face, and she's warm. Her eyes take in your features as if she's burning them into her memories, and you can't help but stare back.

She kisses you again, wet lips pressing against yours so easily - it's as if she had been coordinating this as soon as she stepped into the shower with you. Or maybe this was her entire reason. Bastard.

She slides one of her legs between yours - yeah, okay, she was definitely planning this - and you find yourself groaning into her mouth; hot water spraying onto the both of you. You tear your face away from hers momentarily to take in a gasp of breath and she grabs your jaw, her vibrant pink irises locked onto yours.

"Breathe through your nose." She demands, not giving you any kind of opportunity to get away as she kisses you almost roughly. You feel like your entire body is on fire.

Her body's pressed against yours; and at this angle you can see her gemstone shining in the light above you, glistening with water. She slides her knee up to put pressure between your legs, and as to not make it so easy for her you attempt to slam them shut - only making the situation worse for yourself.

You moan as you feel her pressed against your clit, and you feel her grinning against your mouth. She slides her tongue in then, and the combined sensations has your head feeling a little light. It actually irks you enough to attempt to push her off of you to get some kind of leverage over her, but she clearly anticipated some kind of fight because she growls against your mouth in resistance, and uses both her hands to slam yours against the wall behind you with an iron grip.

What a brat.

The harder you struggle, the more she presses all of herself against you. Her grip on your forearms get a little tighter; and you find that this just makes all of your current problems worse. She rips her lips away from yours to give you some kind of smug, shit-eating grin. "You're really trying this time, aren't 'ya doll. I'll give 'ya that."

"Why won't you let me touch you?!" You spit out, but it comes out all breathily and not at all aggressive like you'd hoped.

"If you're good, maybe." She laughs, and you wish you could disappear on the spot at will. "But this is your turn."

"IF I'M-" You hiss out, Spinel switching her grip so she's got the both of your hands in one, making the other completely free to grope your breast. Her palm rubs over your nipple. "You are such a shithead!!"

"You knowwww, if you don't like it you could always tell me you wanna stop," Her eyelids lower enough to still see her irises glued to your face, and she leans in to whisper into your ear. "But we already know that you want this, Y/N."

You snap your mouth shut and she chuckles darkly, and you would like to die now, thanks. If there's a god out there, you hope he's merciful and smites you on the spot.

She immediately attacks your neck, and she doesn't give you any kind of say about it either. She's using so much teeth this time that you're worried you're going to look like a spotted leopard tomorrow, and oh god, you almost forgot.

"Leave any marks and I'll attempt to poof you myself, Spinel." You shudder as she sucks hard near the crook of your neck, hot tongue against your skin, and when she looks at you her eyes have some kind of suspicious glint to them.

"Wear a sweater." Is all she says before going right back to your neck, and the only thing you can really do is bite back a moan as she continues. You're going to kill her for this. You're going to find out how to embarrass her in front of her new friends, or SOMETHING. How the fuck are you going to cover up these marks before your class tomorrow?! The several shades of pink blush you picked up from the drug store a few days ago from your previous shenanigans barely managed to cover the lighter marks she left last time!

You feel her slide a hand down your torso to reach between your legs, and with the last of your strength you try and slam your legs shut just to make this difficult for her.

She chuckles into your neck, and her warm breath lights your nerves on fire. It's so steamy in here now, and some kind of jazz oldie is playing that you can kind of hear over the sound of running water. And then she drops your hands just to grip both of your thighs and spread them apart forcefully, and there's nothing you can really do about that. You know that you're heavily aroused, and you hope it isn't too obvious to her.

Holding you open, she presses her palm against you, tips of her fingers hesitating at your entrance. Like she's waiting for something.. your legs start to tremble, then she slides two fingers into you and you slam a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning.

"No one's going to hear us, 'ya idiot." You hear her say, and you nearly laugh. She immediately curls her fingers upwards, and you're seeing stars at the edges of your vision.

"You think I care about being loud? I just don't want you to think you can drag anything out of me too easily," You say in between breaths, and she makes some kind of displeased grunt in reply.

"Asked for this.." Is what you hear from her before she adds a third finger; you take it quite easily, embarrassingly enough, and starts to really finger fuck you as she watches your face.

A strangled moan comes out of you, and you see the corner of her lip curl enough to show her teeth. You hate that she can do this to you. Your hands are free though, and you think you can fuck with her a little as payback. One of your hands shoot out to touch her gem, and she lowers her eyes to glare at you and the offending appendage.

"Whaddya' think you're 'doin, Y/N?" She asks, lowly. There's a darker pink that bleeds onto her cheeks quite rapidly here, and you swipe a thumb over her center facet in spite.

"Whatever I want." You reply. Her eye twitches.

"I don't think so." She hisses and slams her lips against yours - roughly pushing your hand away from her gem, like how dare you have the audacity to even think about touching her right now. She presses you against the wall with her own body, and you moan into her mouth.

Your thighs are shaking, and the hot steam mixed with the noises of her roughly pounding her slick fingers inside you makes it apparent that you're actually not going to last like this at all. She drags moan after moan from you relentlessly, unable to stop herself from biting down into the crook of your neck like she's trying to claim you for herself. As if you'd let anyone else touch you like this.

And then she lifts up her head enough to warmly whisper something about how much she loves being in the middle of your thighs like this into your ear, and you start to see stars as your orgasm violently wracks through your body.

She holds you, watching your face as you come down, leaving small kisses upon your lips.

"Was that okay?" She mumbles the question, looking at you to make sure you're alright. The water is starting to lose heat, which means both of you should finish this up soon.

"I'm going to make you regret ever taking me as a hostage." You answer with a grin, and her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.

"Are 'ya sure about that?" She replies, withdrawing her fingers from you ever so slowly.

You think you're in the clear, and then she slides them back in, and you can't cut the gasp that comes out of your mouth. You slam a hand on her shoulder, glaring at your girlfriend.

"I'm sensitive, you jerk." You spit out at her, and she grins cheekily. She then actually pulls out her fingers for real, and you really, really want to make her pay for this. "Let's finish this up, the water is getting colder by the minute."

The both of you quickly finish your bathing routine, and you're almost annoyed that Spinel can just vanish water from her completely while you're still soaking wet, and trying to dry yourself with a towel.

You put on your sleepwear and drag your girlfriend to bed, where you pay her back tenfold. You honestly hope the walls aren’t thin.

You're tired, and sleep comes to you easy with thoughts of what tomorrow will bring.

#spinel x reader #spinel #steven universe #su #spinel steven universe #home #my fic #revised

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saladejin · 4 years

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Call An Uber? | 04

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Implied mental health struggles, anxiety and slight panic attack

Word Count: 2.9k

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Another three days passing brought forth another fresh steaming pile of emotions.

I was due to start my job at Bighit in the following week, and had been dropping in to meet with Bang PD and the staff regularly since the initial signing of the documents. Its only purpose was just for me to get to know everyone, since I would start off in the company playing a major role, and for me to get comfortable in the environment. PD-nim knew I was not used to working for such large and renowned companies, and I was so happy he had taken that into consideration.

Another meet-and-greet done today, and I was trembling.

I didn’t know why it had all suddenly decided to drop on me now, but my only solace was the splash of vivid crimson sitting out in the otherwise monochrome carpark of the building. I yanked open the car door with shaking fingers and all but fell into the familiar leather seat, my breathing uneven from the tightening within my chest.

Don’t get me wrong at all, the company was absolutely amazing, and so were all the staff and their immediate hospitality. Bang PD was like a second father to me already, and I’d even had him ruffle my hair once today after he’d somehow managed to laugh at one of my jokes. His assistant, which I now knew as Chang Soojin, or just Soojin-unni as she had told me to use, was becoming a reliable colleague and friend pretty quickly too. I had met many members of the staff, including the co-ordi noonas, managers, stylists etc. Even a group of interpreters who specialised in specific languages.

Hence why they employed me so quickly, I’d thought to myself after finding out they only knew English and Korean.

There was that one Spanish interpreter, who had been absent on the ‘fateful day’, but he was now doing fine and had profusely apologised to me afterwards. I felt bad for the guy, as I probably seemed like a warning replacement if anything of disarray was to happen again.

Bighit can be bloody scary, damn.

My breathing had evened slightly, but stress was still causing my head to become a mess of jagged scribbles. So much had changed in my life recently, and even if it had an overall positive effect, my mind was still left reeling. This was the kind of sudden responsibility that made me want to revisit my childhood days, to let go of being an adult and to be surrounded by nothing but carefree bliss.

A light rapping on my car passenger window tore me from my strangling thoughts. I gasped, squinting my eyes to glimpse at the darkly clothed figure before sighing. The person had thoroughly frightened me, and I wasn’t very happy about it. They crouched down to look in, and when they saw I was making no move to stop them, they pulled open the passenger door hesitantly.

“Is this Uber operating?” Yoongi softly asked.

I was still irritated that my precious alone-time had been ruined, after going through quite a bit of anxiety about my life in general, but I couldn’t bring myself to refuse the impassive man at the moment. After even more thought, I concluded that having someone to talk to would in fact help me the most right now. When I nodded slowly, sighing again in an attempt to regather myself, he lowered his head in gentle understanding.

“Uh, if it’s a really bad time I-”

“No, Yoongi. Wait is it even okay to not use honorifics? Should I call you oppa?” I shook my head, my voice steadily gaining life again from how croaky it sounded before. I hadn’t cried, but I was definitely on the verge before he’d made his appearance.

Yoongi settled into the passenger seat holding a lidded coffee cup. He was dressed in dark but flowy clothing, and I questioned his sanity briefly considering how hot it was outside. It was mid-afternoon at the moment, but we both didn’t seem to have schedules planned.

“Even though I’m not against it, I feel like dropping the honorifics would work better for you. I won’t get offended,” he hummed, sipping his coffee. I noticed how tired his eyes were under the cap he wore, and instantly felt bad for being annoyed with him before. He adorned a black mask too, but it was sitting under his chin to make talking and drinking easier.

“Did you also want coffee? I could offer to get you one.”

His sudden question caused me to blink in confusion. Then I realised I had been eyeing the cup in his pale hands quite intensely. His dark eyes were blank and his pale blue-white hair was slightly roughened from the breeze outside. Trying not to fawn over him, I broke out into a strained chuckle while my hands came up to slap my cheeks in embarrassment.

“No no no, I wasn’t…Ah I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on at the moment.” I decided to let the cat out of the bag with another sigh. He may as well know what was going on behind my outwardly apparent emotions. I didn’t even know how I was meant to hold a decent conversation when my insides were such a nervous wreck. I knew I would build myself up again eventually, but he just happened to catch me at a vulnerable time.

“Yeah, I could tell,” he started. “I followed you out because I saw you running out here shaking like a leaf. I guess it sounds kind of creepy when put like that.” He shrugged, eyeing the dashboard of my car while I just tried to take in his quiet observation.

“No, actually I appreciate it. You haven’t even met me yet…ugh why am I doing everything backwards right now?” I rested my head onto the steering wheel, positively exasperated. Yoongi and I had never even held a conversation before, but here I was acting like a total idiot and making him worry about my mental health.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re all I hear about these days.” He sighs with a groan, letting his head roll back to rest against the leather headrest. My own curiosity was tickled.

“Really? Let me guess, ‘the crazy Uber chick who somehow managed to get herself involved with shit that didn’t concern her’?”

He laughed silently at that, the gummy smile melting my bundling insides into a puddle – and suddenly everything was alright.

I didn’t have to have everything in my life figured out right now, I just had to make the most of my time with these amazingly driven individuals who had undoubtedly captured my heart. Alongside this job which was actually my passion to begin with.

I didn’t even know how I hadn’t freaked out over the fact that the Min Yoongi, worldwide famous producer and rapper, was sitting in my car. He was sitting in the same seat the Park Jimin had sat in about a week and a half ago. I needed to shut down my brain before it began to burn a hole into the back of my skull from overworking.

“That would be funny, but no, definitely not. I just wish the young ones would let me sleep, but they’ve been excited. I swear I’ve already met you ten times at this point.”

I snort in amusement, absolutely loving how blunt he was about the whole situation. Too many people, since I had arrived in the country, were overbearingly polite and careful with their words. I was not used to it at all, and it made the ‘foreign’ experience all the more jarring. Yoongi probably understood this to an extent, so I was grateful he tried his best to be more casual right away.

“Look, can I start driving? I just need to clear my head a bit. Maybe I can introduce myself properly.” I exhaled loudly, my nerves significantly calmed since chatting a little. Even though I felt terrible at the thought, I couldn’t help but be grateful that it was Yoongi who had paid me a surprise visit instead of one of the others. His presence was somewhat reserved and I had trouble reading the guy half the time, but his company was the type I needed instead of something loud and overwhelming.

“Sure, I did kind of barge in so you can continue with whatever you were doing.”

You mean almost having a mental breakdown?

“But I do want to actually meet you, because if I have to hear your name around the dorm one more fucking time without knowing who you are, I may just snap.”

I laughed loudly, his grunt-worthy words causing amusement to roil around in my chest. I figured I would question him about exactly what was said a bit later. For now, I just needed to relax and ease my worries, and driving was my channel for exactly that. I started reversing out of the carpark with silence finally befalling the car, grateful to finally leave behind the line of black company vans surrounding me. I found it ominous if I was completely honest. Engulfed by the view of several identical black vans was a little unsettling when the only car I was used to was Red.

When did I even decide to name my car? It’s such a boring name too.

“Well, I can start by saying my name is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n) is fine, and you already known I don’t care for honorifics. I’m from (Y/c), and I landed a job at Bighit Entertainment by letting two of your band members hitch a ride. Ultimately escaping their foreseeable deaths.” My dramatic tone increased the longer I spoke, and I could see the corners of Yoongi’s lips turning up gradually.

“That sounds about right. Jiminie told me you were a big fan, but it turns out you are really collected when you see us. I appreciate your efforts, but feel free to let it out if you need.” He tilted his head with a smirk, his ‘Genius Suga’ persona surfacing within the span of two whole seconds. I just bit my lip to contain another amused giggle.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not one to freak out after the initial shock. Most of my extra-ness is of the internal type, I’m afraid.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment, eventually flashing me that endearing expression where his lips stretched across his whole face. I covered my cheeks with one hand to stop my bubbling amusement from erupting.

“Stop please, or I’ll crash!”

He simply sipped his coffee, smirking again at my reaction. I knew I hadn’t actually doused his ego, but his antics still aided in lifting my spirits higher and higher. As I tried to figure out where I wanted to drive, Yoongi pulled out a small notepad full of scrawled notes and scribbled out lines.

“Well, you already know who I am, that much I can guess. Now that we’ve met, I can tell those kids to shut up and do something useful,” he continued. Even though his tone was full of complaint, I knew he loved every single one of those boys wholeheartedly.

“Where are they now?” I asked through a smile, glancing down as the rapper flicked through his notepad to the page he had last used. “Practicing more, at least I know Jiminie, Jin-hyung and Jungkook-ah are. We’ve got a big concert and a comeback soon, so everyone is riled up.”

“Yeah, that seems like a packed schedule for at least a few months. I’m really excited for what you guys have in store though, it seems too unreal that I actually get to see everything behind the scenes for the first time in my life,” I sighed out in awe, thinking about a possible new album and new content. How could I even go about it normally when everything was different? Wait, was I going to get a discounted album? I surely hoped so.

Yoongi looked at me carefully before making a few notes in his notepad, his fingers working the pen deftly through long and hardened experience. His ripped black jeans were tighter than I initially thought they were, but my attention only went there because he was tapping his foot rhythmically as he wrote.

“Lyrics?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow in his direction and diverting my attention. I drove towards the outskirts of Seoul, hoping to find somewhere quiet and peaceful to settle for a bit. The time had essentially flown by, but I was sure the sky wouldn’t darken just yet.

“Yeah, just the usual. I help write a lot of songs, and lyrics always just flood into my brain at the most random times, you know?” he murmured, flicking backwards to another page and filling in another empty space.

The realisation that I was driving somewhere random and unknown hit me suddenly, and I briefly wondered if taking Yoongi with me would end up costing me my job all too soon. I was quickly reminded of a similar occurrence with two maknaes, one that caused the managers and Namjoon to lose their absolute marbles.

“Um, I was gonna drive randomly around the area, but I just realised that your managers would skin me alive if they knew I took you with me. Does anyone know you’re with me?”

Yoongi looked up, his eyes, which were once laser-focused on his lyrics, now scoured into my own and I gulped suddenly. His long, dark eyelashes were always beautiful, but they were even more mesmerising in person and this close. They contrasted so nicely against his milky skin that I almost lost focus on the road again.

I may just crash and kill someone one of these days. Customer or not.

“I texted a few people,” was all he said before returning to his notepad, and I shrugged indifferently. He was an adult, and he could make his own decisions. I just hoped I didn’t cop any roastings for it later on.

“Would I be able to show you something?” he then asked.

I glanced sideways, catching him picking at his nails with his teeth apprehensively. It seemed he was stuck on something to do with a lyric, but I didn’t know how I could possibly lend a hand. His lyrics were always so impactful and flowed so nicely. How could I form my own opinion when everything I’d heard from him so far was nothing less than beautiful?

“Yeah? Did you need another perspective?” I probed, willing my feelings of disbelief down into the depths of my subconscious.

“Well, I’m trying to tie together my verse in one of the new songs, and I almost have it. I want someone fresh to have a look.” He held out the pad and I pulled over onto the side of the smaller road. We were now definitely nearing the more ‘picturesque’ side of Seoul anyway, and the city fell away behind us as my eyes scanned over Yoongi’s handwriting. The last line struck a chord deeply within me.

“This is real you, and this is real me” – which one is “you”? Which one is “me”?

“Wow, this really hits hard,” I breathe, reading over the snippets of the verse he had written again to fully absorb what was going on. The whole thing was emotional, and raw. I could imagine his voice rapping hard to form these thoughts, the angry and hurt emotions seeping in.

“I can feel the struggle through the lyrics. It’s like you’ve been through a false love that you threw yourself into after believing it was true...a betrayal of sorts, I guess?” I met his eyes again and grew a little confused when a chuckle of irony fell from him. It must have been some joke I didn’t understand.

“I’m glad you feel so much from it.” He blinked. “I’m actually going to try a different technique with this track, so expect some changes from my usual style.”

He then smiled again, taking the notepad before I could catch any glimpses of the other notes. I couldn’t contain a soft huff of annoyance. “You’re not just gonna tell me?”

He deadpanned before parting his lips to respond. “Just because you work for Bighit doesn’t mean you get every special privilege.” I almost reeled at the thought of bothering him with my question, but he only smiled again while tucking his notepad away.

“Plus, you’re a fan, so my goal is to keep it a secret for as long as possible.”

“Mean,” I grunted, pulling out onto the road again so I could start to head home. The sky was darkening, and I knew there were only so many boundaries I could push before I crossed the line. Yoongi seemed to know this too, but he avoided addressing the subject for some reason.

“Where do you want to be dropped? I’ll have you know I’ve been charging you handsomely for this Uber service,” I muttered, still pretending to be pissed off at him for hiding information.

“I’ll buy you a coffee next time, I promise.”

tagged: @l4life, @joyful-jimin

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pretendrocketships · 4 years

Text

To Be So Lonely

Part 1: Fine Line

A/N: 5.7k overload of angst. I’m so sorry. song pairings while you read.

About: Part Two of Fine Line. You’re juggling your heart, your boyfriend’s, and Shawn’s. And one ball has to drop.

Song: To Be So Lonely by Harry Styles

Two weeks ago ago. No one talked about it. No one knew. You stayed quiet, and so did he. Charlie kissed you like nothing was wrong. Brian opened your beers like nothing happened, and then there was Shawn. Shawn walked around, wrote music, and smiled politely like he never walked down into that basement in the first place. “Charlie!” you called running down the stairs in one of his long button downs. You reached up, and attempted to reach the top shelf, your efforts in vain, due to your height. “Charlie! We’re out of Nutella, and you put the peanut butter on the highest shelf!” You got on your tip-toes, causing Charlie's blue striped shirt to raise higher and higher. You felt something move behind you and saw a pale arm sneak up behind you and grab a jar of Nutella and peanut butter.

“He um, he hides the second jar.”

“Jesus, fucking hell, Shawn! You scared the shit out of me!” you said jumping and clutching your chest. He laughed a little. His lips didn’t move, but you could tell he was smiling.

“You’re such a wimp.” You shoved him.

“Shut up, you bully. He scoffed.

“Bullying you? You can’t be serious.” You smiled and shoved him. Then he smiled, an actual smile.

“Babe! It’s right on the top!” It was gone. His smile vanished as soon as it came. Charlie walked down his tight, black boxers. He came over and kissed your temple. “See babe, you got it.” You smiled and kissed him.

“No, uh. Shawn got them for me,” you said shifting your weight between your feet. No one had to say anything for it to be awkward. How could it not be, both men in front of you, wanted you. And not in the romantic movie way every producer seemed to think girls dream about, but in the real way where whatever choice you made hurt someone. Shawn nodded once and went back to his book. He had been reading a lot recently. If he put his eyes on the pages, he didn’t have to watch Charlie grab your ass. “Charlie!” you exclaimed. “Not now,” you whispered blushing. Shawn cleared his throat and closed his book.

“Gonna check on my laundry,” he said excusing himself and disappearing from view.

“Look what you did, Charlie,” you said, turning back to your food. Charlie waved his hand

“Whatever, he’s fine.” You turned from him and started abusing your poor piece of bread with a ridiculous amount of Nutella. His fingers danced up and down your waist, and he kissed your neck. “Why does he even matter? He probably just wants to finish his book or whatever.” You cocked your head to the side, accidentally allowing him easier access to your neck.

“H-have you noticed him acting weird lately?” His teeth grazed your neck. Little marks appeared up and down any available skin Charlie could find. He shrugged, paying more attention to your skin than your words.

“Maybe, might be about the girl he fucked last night,” he said nonchalantly. You sprang back.

“W-what? what? What girl did he fuck last night?” You sprung away from him, searching his eyes, waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking. He looked at you strangely. You deserved that much.

“Um, not sure? Brian just said he heard a girl’s laugh coming from his room and he put on his headphones after that.” You looked down at your shoes. Charlie smirked and pushed you against the counter. “You could go ask him-” you started to move away, but he pulled you back,”later, babe. After I'm finished.” His lips danced over your skin, but all you could think about was Shawn. You knew he said to forget it, that it was only one time he needed, but you couldn’t just forget that night. How could he forget it? How did he do it? You wished you could keep that night out of your mind . He would never know you thought about it while you were watching tv or picking up groceries. Charlie kissed your neck and his hands danced over your stomach and legs. Charlie was touching you, but all you could think about was Shawn. The fantasies played over and over in your head. Was Shawn a cuddler? I mean of course he’d held you when you tried to learn to skateboard, despite your horrid balance. He’d held you in excitement when you thought you were moving up at your job. He caught you when you fell in his arms, as you were overlooked for someone who didn’t deserve that promotion half as much as you did. These memories flooded your mind, along with questions about how he would hold you when you were in love, fully and without restraints.

Fuck, maybe he forgot it. He acted like he did. He said so many things that night that you didn’t have time to process. You didn’t have enough time to even think about a response to what he said, until now. If Shawn had told you all this earlier, would you be wearing Shawn’s band shirts instead of Charlie’s button down?

”Seriously,” Brian said, shaking his head. “You guys are always at it,” he said plopping himself down at the bar.

“Why are you all in my house again?” Charlie asked annoyed that he had to pull away from you. You averted your attention to the ground, counting the tiles that lined the floor.

“You forget we’re all staying here? Staying close since (Y/N) has been away so long?” Brian reminded. “It’s like you don’t even remember half the shit you say,” Brian muttered under his breath. They both kept talking, but you couldn’t focus for the life of you.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie nudged you. “Babe?” You blinked and looked up at him.

“Yeah?” Your eyes were spaced, clearly exposing the fact that you were not there mentally.

“Brian was talking to you, babe.” Fuck you, in your head again. You turned to Brian with a small smile.

“What’d you say? Sorry.” Brian laughed.

“S’alright. What time did you go to bed last night?” Charlie grabbed you by the waist and nipped at your jaw.

“Not till late.”

“Oh god,” Brian said, cringing at what Charlie hinted at. Truth is, you hadn’t, not since the night you and Shawn shared. You could see how frustrated Charlie was getting. Finally had a break from both of your lives putting you in the same place, on the same wavelength, and the one thing he wanted didn’t want him back. The less responsive you got, the more he touched you and bragged to the boys. You moved his hands off you, signaling him to put an end to the public show. It’s as if Shawn knew you were done putting on an act. He came sauntering down the stairs and made himself at home again, quietly, nose buried in the fridge.

“Well, what I was saying was. The vibe in the house is all wrong. I don’t know exactly what it is,” he said, eyes darting to you, “But! I plan on fixing it. Family game night! Just like we used to! And attendance,” he said, looking at Shawn this time, “is mandatory.”

“Yes! Oh, yes! You’re all about to get your ass kicked,” Charlie cheered.

“Bring your worst,” Matt said. When did he even walk in? You were more lost in your thoughts than you realized. Brain was, not so secretly, looking at you and Shawn, neither of you sharing any excitement.

Game night was awkward, but you’re not really sure what you expected. “Oh come ON. That is so not fair!” Matt groaned as Charlie slapped him with another +4 card.

Between passing cards and beers, things were starting to feel like they could be okay, like you could laugh without feeling everyone’s eyes on you, silently asking which boy you were in love with. You lost. Every. Single. Game. But you being able to feel your shoulders relax around the people closest to you felt nice. It felt nice to not feel on edge for a while.

“I told you that you were going to get your ass kicked, not sure why you didn’t believe me,” Charlie said with a soft laugh, while taking a swig of his beer. He pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your temple. “See baby, you’re dating a winner.” You forced a small smile up at him and looked back down at your cards. Shawn rolled his eyes. He saw through you in a way Charlie wouldn’t even try to.

“Remember how I said uno? HA!” Brain yelled as he slammed his last card down, dancing and prancing around the table like he had just won the lotto.

“HOW THE FUCK!” Charlie roared, his eye flaring wildly around the room, searching for some sort of explanation. Brian was still gloating, not giving a damn in the world about Charlie’s temper. “He cheated! He must have cheated!” he said, arms pointing at the table, eyes locked on Brian.

“Oh, give it a rest, mate. Ya lost a friendly game of uno, you’ll live.” Brian said, annoyance seeping through his smile.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he said, swatting at Brian, finally allowing himself to laugh at his loss. “Well I’m going to cry myself to sleep. G’night everyone!” he said with a nod. He leaned down to your level to plant a kiss on your lips, a kiss sweeter than everyone needed to see. “Night, baby.” Brian raise his eyebrows at the situation and sprung up himself.

“Yeah, tired! Yawn, goodnight!” Brian said while leaving the room.

“Brian. . . you literally said yawn! You didn’t even yawn!” you fussed as suddenly you realize everyone left the room for you and Shawn to clean up. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose or not, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t slightly hoping for time alone. You need to act on it.

“I’ll wipe down. You do the dishes?” you asked sheepishly, turning to face Shawn. He nods and turns his attention from you and turns around to start the dishes.

“Sounds good.” God, was it silent. You wanted this time alone with him to talk about all that happened, but you didn’t know how to start the conversation. What's the right way to say “hey I know you told me you loved me and I didn’t say it back and like I didn’t know it then but maybe I wanna revisit that?” You wished you could come out and say it, but you're too nervous.

“So, are we going to talk, or are you going to keep staring at my ass?” You laugh, thankful that he knows you need him to break the tension, need him to be the one to make the first move.

“I feel like i keep nagging you with the same questions, but why are you avoiding me?” He laughs, like you’ve said the funniest yet stupidest thing in the world.

“Well isn't it obvious?” Not being able to read his mind was killing you.

“We ever going to talk about it? Or am I that easy for you to forget?” you tried to joke, but you both knew the words stung coming out of your mouth. He went back to vigorously washing the same dish.

“Didn't forget,” he mumbled. “Just didn't have anything to say.” You laughed, a bitterness lacing the sound.

“That night you couldn't wait to shut me up, but now you have nothing to say? Brilliant.” You were mad, with no right to be, but you needed him to ask one more time. You needed him to give you the option again. “Shawn,” you said sternly. He ignores you, and recently, it’s becoming more common. You try again, louder this time.

“I know it did.” What the fuck? He answered a question you didn’t even ask out loud. “I know what you’re thinking; you don’t have to say it.” He lowered his voice this time. “That night, it messed us up,” he shook his head. “I would have never been so selfish if I knew what it was going to do to us.” You gripped the counter, tension flowing throughout your body.

“Don’t.” you barely managed to get out through a clenched jaw. “Don’t say that.” He finally looked up from his cup to stare into your eyes. Confusion. It was written all over his face.

“What? What does that even mean, (y/n)?” His voice sounded tired and annoyed all at once. “What now? You wanna talk?” he says throwing the rag in a full sink, water and bubbles splashing everywhere. “Fine,” his long legs allow a quick stride to the table. The chair screams against the floor as he motions for you to sit. “Sit, let's talk then.” You look at him a while before sitting. He’s playing with his hands, the distraction forcing his mind to stop racing and calm down, something you've seen him do time and time again.

“Shawn,” you tried.

“It’s like you forget that I know you. Forget that I’m always checking up you, even when if you realize that or not. Like I didn’t see you deleted most of your pictures with Charlie on Facebook, like i didn’t notice you took down your relationship status.” You looked at him, mouth agape. He shot you a look that told you to not even think of interjecting him right now. “I know it doesn’t say single, but it doesn’t say in a relationship anymore either. You can’t tell me that means nothing.” He was pleading with you at this point, wishing you would give in. Silence hushed the room.

“I can’t.” He almost would have missed your whisper, if he didn't hang onto every word you said. His eyes lit up, full of the hope that only those two words could bring. His eyes are big, blown out and asking for you to let him into your mind.

“Please --” he’s begging, proper begging now. He just needs to hear it. It’s your turn to hold your hand up. You need a minute to make your heart start racing.

“ Shawn, I,” you trailed off, head tucked into your shoulder. He waited, his smile slowly faltering. He’s not far off from breaking down, right there in front of you. He rests his eyes for a minute, ready to swallow the last bit of pride he didn’t even know he had.

“You already know I love you, but I can--” He paused to think. He gets up from his chair and moves to the other side of the kitchen. You give him a second before shyly removing yourself from your chair to join him. “I can show you what love is supposed to feel like. I can show you what it looks like when someone thinks about you before they think about themselves.” Suddenly, he has you pressed against the fridge, lips trailing along your outside of your ear. “I can show you how it’s supposed to feel; how your body’s supposed to feel when the right person is pressing up on it.” His hands are sliding down your arms and instinctively you’re pushing back on him. His lips ghost your neck. “See this? This is the reaction Charlie should be fighting for, fighting for your body to react to every little thing he does. But I don’t want it.” He said, pulling away, moving to make you look into his eyes. “Unless you’re willing to give me the real thing. I deserve that. I deserve security and answers and a girl who wants me back.” He looks at you, eyes searching, and again, he’s left you at a loss for words. You’re not saying anything, and his resolve is breaking. The silence that fills the room if familiar and deafening. He’s not sure he could’ve heard you over his own racing thoughts. He sighs, sad, and turns to walk away.

“I love you alright!”

“What?” He doesn't sound happy.

“I said it. I love you.”

“Oh.” He stops. His eyebrows scrunch up like he’s trying to figure out a math equation. “Okay.”

“What the--? I just told you I love you? Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for me to say?” He spins around quickly, suddenly invading your space.

“No, this isn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear you realized it was me all along. I wanted to hear you say you were scared to jump, and that's why you were with Charlie, but you’re ready to be brave now. I wanted to hear,” this time his hands gripped yours “I wanted to hear that your body,” his hands now clutched your waist and lower back “only melts for me now. You didn't say any of that, you just said you loved me because you thought that's what I needed to hear.” He dropped all contact with you. “What I don’t need is a lie. What I needed was you.” Needed. That hurt. You felt like you were trying to grab air. You didn't know how to say what you wanted to say, so you just said it.

“I think about you! All the time. In my fucking sleep, in the shower, in every day dream,” you whimpered at the end, causing him to look at you with wild eyes. It was like he was hearing his inner thoughts be read aloud. You continued. “I, I never thought about us like that, okay? Not for real. I thought you were complimenting me bc we were friends, holding me because you had to. I didn’t think you loved me like that, ok? When you said it that night of the party, I thought it was the alcohol, but then I noticed. Fuck, I thought back and started to see it, I started to believe it.” you slumped into the dining room chair, head in your hands. Was that? Sniffling? Oh, he did not just hear crying.

“Honey,” he started while placing a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged him off.

“No, you did this!” he moved back, his head jerking in confusion.

“What?”

“Yes, you! If you would have just told me how you felt earlier--” His boisterous laugh cut you off

“Me? This is my fault?” he smiled as he removed your hands from your face.

“Are you really going to laugh at me while I’m trying to tell you I love you?” Yup, that did it. His heart was shot. No matter how strong, he wouldn't dream of removing cupid's arrow for the life of him. “I love the way you laugh, your stupid curls, feeling birds at the park, listening to you write songs, you always forgetting to refile the toilet paper in the bathroom, and every fucking stupid thing you’ve done since we met, okay? I. Love. You.” He was beaming, truly thought his cheeks would rip. “But,” his smile faltered. It didn't fade, but faltered. “But, I need time. To work out my thoughts, to tell Charlie, to find a new place, since we live together. I’m still saying I love you, but I do need time.” He looked down to his shoes, pondering bouts of new information.

“Time, I can give you.” his hand was cupping your damp cheek and soothing away any remaining tears. “I can let you figure things out, but this doesn’t change the fact that I deserve someone who loves me. I can’t have you rip out my heart one day and then offer to put it back together, while you’re still holding the knife.” He had always been open to sharing the love and joy you gave him, but this was your first glimpse of the pain you caused. It made you wince. He felt you recoil and moved your chair closer. “I’m not,” he paused, “I'm not saying I need an answer tomorrow, but I do need an answer. You can’t keep us both, honey. And a part of me feels like shit for making you choose, but for me, for yourself, you gotta choose.” You nodded, not thinking you’d feel so nad during what's supposed to be a fairy tale ending for the both of you. You pawed at your face and got up from the chair.

“Well I uh, I have to finish cleaning up here, so.” He rolled his eyes playfully. You missed that.

“Go up stairs. You’ve always been bad at dishes anyway.” He fake swats at you with the dish rag, and you wished you could laugh. “We’ll get through this alright? No matter what you decide, we’ll see it through.” With that, you trudged up the stairs to let your thoughts flow freely inside the confines of your room.

Two weeks. You went two weeks without talking about that night. Secrets became the staple of your relationship, the lying and silence became customary. Charlie was happy to have your attention, and Matt was too oblivious to notice. That left Brian to bounce back and forth between you two. Ever since that night, you needed the house filled. You needed a distraction. You needed people around so you could get time to just think about how to move forward, to think without Charlie’s hands all over you. Everyone having a good time should have made you feel better. It didn’t.

“You never told me what happened after game night,” Brian said, handing you a beer. You never really liked the taste, but it’s the only thing that made you talk without restrictions.

“N-nothing happened.” Hiccup. Sip. “Talked.” You felt Brian getting annoyed that no one would let him in on what was going on. You needed to get out. Yup. You knew you were fucked up, and you needed out of this conversation before you let something slip that you couldn’t take back. Brian shook his head and took his own sip.

“Something happened, so please stop lying and fucking enlighten me.” You got up and threw your empty bottle into the pile and got up.

“Thanks for the beer.” You shot him a lazy smile and slid off the chair. His arm launched for you as you lost your footing. “F-fine! I’m fine,” you said, shooting Brian another signature smile. You were over socializing, you just wanted to fall asleep to the soft lull of the party and escape in your thoughts. You started the trek up the stairs to your room, ignoring Brian’s calls for you. God, were you annoyed. These railings wouldn’t stop attacking your sides. God, these stairs seemed much longer when your head was buzzing. You stumbled before you could reach the last step. Arms caught you before you could reach the ground. “W-what the fuck?” you slurred.

“Shh, s'alright.” Familiar arms went to reach around your waist and pulled you to your feet.

“W-what?” you mumbled, too intoxicated to understand anything that was going on. You felt yourself flying, no, getting carried from the hallway and into a dark room, dimly lit by tiny lights adorning the walls.

“I’ve got you, just-“ he sighed and sat you on the bed. You blinked, over and over, to try and identify the blurry face in front of you. His finger ghosted over your face. He sighed, shaking his head. You felt something tugging at the bottom of your shirt. The hands pulled your shirt off and quickly slipped on another shirt. You didn’t feel eyes on your skin, and that’s because he wasn’t looking.vIt’s been weeks, and he didn’t even look. He started slipping off your shorts, and you played with the bottom of the black t-shirt. He turned to the dresser to fold your clothes.

“Billie Eilish,” you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric between your fingers.

“Yeah, she’s your favorite, right? Am I wrong? Did it change?” He asked as if he didn’t know. He asked as if you both didn’t know that you talked about Billie to him for hours in bed with him some nights. Well, before.

“You don’t like her,” you pointed out, still staring at the black fabric. He rested himself against the dresser, staring at you in the mirror.

“You know I bought it for you.” Listening to him made you sober up, a little. You smiled and closed your eyes. He smiled too, just for a second. He walked over to you, pulled the covers down and slid your legs under them. “Time to sleep, (Y/N).” You nodded drowsily and moved completely under the covers. He pulled the covers up to your chin, and you pulled them down. He sighed, but you could have sworn you saw a little smile. You closed your eyes, and your head rolled to the side. You felt a pair of warm lips touch your forehead.You smiled and imagined he did too. Your chest rose and fell seven times before you felt yourself being pulled into a block of warmth.

Morning. Fuck. Your head burned, and the light stung. Your mind was fucked from the liquor. You were alone, no one around to ask just how big your bottle pile was last night. Was someone actually in your room last night? Or did you dream that up too? You dreamt you won the lotto. That for sure was a dream, but you weren’t sure the boy was. If you squeezed your eyes shut, and kept them closed for long enough, you could still feel the warmth wrapped around your body. Your hands made their way to the black, soft fabric of the borrowed t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame. You heard a buzz. You were sure your head just buzzed. You threw your hand out and swatted around until you found the brown bedside table. You yanked the drawer open, and your hand felt around, looking for anything to stop the room from vibrating. You searched to shut the phone off, but instead you found a tiny polaroid. You squinted your eyes open to inspect. A smile crept across your face, as your fingers ghosted over the picture. His arm was thrown around your shoulder and you were smiling a true smile, from ear to ear. Shawn looked so young; you did too. Maybe because things were uncomplicated back then, no sneaking around or secrets: just plain old friends. You closed your eyes, the picture folded up in the palm of your hand, and rolled onto his side of the bed, inhaling his scent and pretending he was there. The buzzing turned into background noise, lulling you back to your dreams.

You woke up again, groggy and still alone. You knew you couldn’t hide from reality any longer, but that didn’t mean facing the truth was any easier. What if. The two words dancing around your mind endlessly, running you in circles. No matter what you did, you felt like you lost. If you chose to stick with Charlie, you don’t have a best friend. Shawn could spew whatever bullshit to everyone else, but not to you. You weren’t the same. You don’t have your best friend, and that was just the truth. You thought Charlie was it; he’s what you can get and it’s not so bad, so you stick with it. Was that wrong? Was it wrong to be afraid to jump into something you didn’t know, without the security of it working out? Charlie wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Charlie wasn’t a villain Shawn was saving you from. Charlie wasn’t bad, he just wasn’t Shawn. If you pick Shawn, you ruin the group dynamic. ‘As if it isn’t already ruined’ you rebut in your head. If you pick Shawn you could have a heart-shattering love that could end a number of unforeseeable ways. Your mind and your mind have never been on further sides. Thinking about it didn’t make it any easier, so you decided to stop thinking about it.

Downstairs. You were downstairs now. As soon as your foot left the last stair of the staircase, you wished you would have slept longer. Your dreams were a safe space to workout your feelings, without exposing your inner thoughts to anyone. The memories soothed any troubles you had floating around in your head. Charlie’s lips were on your neck instantly, and the memories got fuzzy.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he muttered into your neck, eyes closed and hands instantly tangled in your hair, attempting to pull closer

You could see Shawn watching you from the bar. He raised an eyebrow and continued stirring his tea, that weird lemon ginger shit for his throat, no doubt. You closed your eyes and tried to think of what it would be like if Charlie and Shawn switched places, just for a second. Charlie’s teeth were attempting to leave purple marks on your skin. His teeth sunk into the fantasy, ripping it from your mind. Shawn’s eyes dropped to his tea, his finger catching any tea that laid cold on the rim of the cup. Every mark reminded Shawn of who you were. Not his. Every second you lay in Shawn’s arm showed him what you chose.

“Charlie,” you said quietly, pushing him away.

“Babe,” he laughed as his tongue darted out and left a slimy trail down your neck.

”Charlie.” You said it louder than you wanted to, louder than you expected. Even Shawn stopped stirring to look up at you.

“Fucking fine,” he kept grumbling, but you stopped listening after Shawn looked up at you. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked without moving his lips. Charlie stormed away, so it was just you and him. You nodded and stared at him. He made no move to pry and ask how you were feeling. You wish he had. After confirming he was making no move towards you, you began your trek upstairs. Left. Right. Up the stairs until you landed in front of the room. Shawn was right behind you.

“Hey.” You turned and looked up at him with wide eyes, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts.

“What?-“

“Hey. Uh,” he stuttered, visibly uncomfortable. “I just said hey.” You nodded.

“Yeah, sorry, hi.” You looked away at the ceiling, down the stairs, at the wall, anything to escape his gaze. You forced yourself to look back up at him, into his eyes. In his eyes, you could see him pinning you against the wall. You could almost feel his breath on your neck. You could feel his grabby hands at your waist. You could imagine his warmth. Snap back to reality, Shawn was inches from your face. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“You okay?” You closed your eyes, one small touch bringing back every memory of that night. Your eyes locked. Your stomach felt weird, and your heart was beating too fast.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Okay,” he said and started to pull away, but before the warmth of his hand left your cheek, you grabbed his bicep. Shit. It got bigger. “(Y/N) ...” he said, staring at your hand on him. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You let him pull you into his arms. You sniffed, the musky cologne and pizza grease filling your nostrils.

“Shawn, when’s the last time you changed your shirt?” He laughed. A real one. It vibrated through his whole chest.

“Dunno, few days or so.” You laughed, a real one too. You cringed and moved away from him.

“Ew, Shawn, that’s gross!” He laughed and pulled you close to him. “Shawn, stop!” You squealed. He just kept squeezing you closer and closer, until you could feel his heart beat right next to yours. “Shawn! Shawn! Can’t breathe!” He laughed softly. The laughter died down, but a genuine happiness emanated around you. He stared at you a while, eyes soft and kind, asking permission before he closed his eyes and rested his nose on yours. He took a deep breath, and even though your eyes were closed, you thought you could feel him smiling.

“Hi, (Y/N).” That’s all he said, but it felt like it was something he had been holding back for a while. Your nose rubs against his.

“Hey, Shawn.” You stood there, legs aching but unable to remove yourself from Shawn, the old Shawn you fell in love with. You grabbed his hand. You didn’t feel a spark, or anything everyone talked about, it just felt familiar. You couldn’t explain what familiar felt like, or that a feeling like that even existed, but Shawn never seemed to fit into anything you knew. When you pulled him closer, you touched his hand, you felt Charlie. You felt the pain he would feel if you allowed yourself to melt into Shawn.You stood there, not knowing what to do and not saying anything. A few more seconds, then you would pull away. A few more seconds had passed. And then a few more. Your hand was on Shawn’s again, or maybe it never left? Your hand pulled on his, leading both of you to his bedroom. You pulled on his arm, but his body never moved. You pulled a little harder. You only needed a few minutes. A few minutes to feel the way his body curled around yours. His feet shuffled, in that awkward way they usually did. “Shawn, c’mon,” you said whining softly. You didn’t want a fight, and quite frankly, you weren’t expecting one. He moved closer to you, bringing you nose and nose once again.

“Can’t,” he whispered. Your eyes flew open and watched him slowly move to leave a lingering kiss on your temple. He didn’t open his eyes until he was completely turned around. You watched him walk to his room and close the door, you on the other side of it.

Thank you all for leaving such kind messages and being invested in the story. I appreciate you so much! @tastymendes @alinashawn @shawn-youth @zlamaneserca @starrynight144 @mendesficsxbombay @queenyamimarrero

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