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horizon-verizon · 1 year

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You probably misunderstood me. You are right that from a purely objective view Rhaenyra should have been a Queen. But as a reader, I see a woman who was given that unique chance and blew it. Blew it so hard that her ancestors are ashamed of her. You know, it is like if a young woman is enrolled to some college where traditionally only men are applied (imagine this hypothetical major). She was given that chance but instead of studying, she took drugs, partied, cheated and missed her lectures. She was expelled from college and they banned from enrolling all women. Unfair? Yes. But I can't say that girl was a pure victim.

*EDITED POST* (12/2/23)

There is a problem with characterizing the "opportunity" as something a woman can have if she just acts like a "good woman-ruler", as this asker actually pointed out back in January:

A war that has once again been started / provoked by the Greens, because they have fomented a usurpation and usurped the rightful heiress. From the moment the Greens began a plot, war was all but inevitable if they achieved their goal, as it was inevitable that the Blacks would retaliate. They are responsible for this war, it is a fact. [...]

The fact is, the Greens attacked the FIRST, then fought hard, until it led to the fucking war in question. In this scenario, how does Rhaenyra have a real share of responsibility in the birth of the conflict / war? Or even Blacks more generally?

[...] Also, why would Rhaenyra have to be a "revolutionary feminist" according to some, to deserve this fucking throne exactly? Seriously, when I argue that the Greens attacked first, with power greed and misogyny as their primary motives, and are therefore by extensions the antagonists/villains of the story, this bullshit of "but Rhaenyra n 'isn't a feminist who will revolutionize Westeros' is almost systematically released as a response, as if it were a real argument? We do not care ? That's just not the point of what they're saying. Again, there's this completely dumb notion that since Rhaenyra is a woman, then she must earn her inheritance. She has to prove that she will be better than the others, and not just be a ruler who will keep the kingdom possibly stable, etc. This argument is simply another mani manifestation of the misogyny of some fans. The problem being that we have no idea how Rhaenyra's reign would have actually been, simply because she wasn't herself when she got the throne, and she was getting worse and worse because of of all that she had taken in the face and what she continued to take. We don't have the means to know if she could have improved certain things for women, if she would have simply kept the kingdom stable and prosperous, or if she would have been a bad queen anyway.

If she acts according to our (the patriarchal "lords"/the greens) standards and purview, she is a good leader.

I'm not saying that she should have never tried to be more strategic, pragmatic, and/or active in the politics and court of KL. That she should just not learn how to chess-move people so she could prevent, say, Alicent's green council.

What I am saying is that Alicent had effectively made KL an environment hostile to her children's development and has undermined Rhaenyra's ability to practice power since the woman was 10 and Rhaenyra had some reasons to not stay in KL even after Viserys cut his hand and grew worse.

AND

If you begin a group/community/etc.'s hostility or disfavor and suspicion against a person since their childhood, they are going to have a very difficult time in independently gathering followers.

Basically, if you are in a setting that makes it that much harder for people to just either be or to do what they want without being castigated or threatened, you increase the likelihood of that person being incompetent or of worse moral character bc that person will default to selfishness real quick in a world that already says you must be authoritative and cruel and selfish to "win". You are definitely accountable, but you have also been shaped. you've been shaped and cornered and developed into a worse moral character, but to blame things that were out of the person's hands on them is unfair.

You: "You know, it is like if a young woman is enrolled to some college where traditionally only men are applied (imagine this hypothetical major). She was given that chance but instead of studying, she took drugs, partied, cheated and missed her lectures. She was expelled from college and they banned from enrolling all women."

The issue, anon, is that the privilege to be a monarch has its legitimization from militaristic quasi-religious beliefs. It's not about deserving based on merit, and the prize is not a career but the total domination of a whole group of groups of people.

Both situations have women entering an institution of some sort historically & traditionally granted only to men, but feudal monarchies are never as altruistic as we want. Being a leader of a nation based on the right of blood; it's almost inevitable that your claimants be monarchists and not feminist democrats or the like. You're likely going to get people who believe in at least some crucial parts of the ideologies their world organizes itself on. Doesn't excuse rape or racism, for example, it's just that I find it strange how one expects most/all persons put in front of them in a text or real life to be as progressive as they want them to be. Again, we're talking about human behavior & recognizing constraints/social norms being used against women for the sake of power and social control, not how her moral fiber defines how much we sympathize with her and if she deserves help based on how sorry we feel for her.

Because this modern 19th-century/20th-century girl/woman already voluntarily enrolled in the school to fulfilling both her personal career and sociopolitical goals, having known through her experience, observation, and education.

A girl in your scenario having a psychological breakdown is likelier due to outside/societal pressures not wanting her to succeed and trouble male privilege and authority's norm (thus she faces near-ubiquitous censure since she still lives in a society where both men and women take exception to a woman doing "man" things) or an intentional evil plot/conspiracy. She already knows what she's up against, why would such a thing happen if not for external forces?

I think that there is a thin, subtle line between making women a monolith/a female individual a representative of all women's capabilities and discerning how a woman's capabilities are perceived to exist through an already patriarchal understanding of women=less-than.

On the one hand, the world of this woman--she is the first woman to be in a male field/space--makes her sit so that people eye her for her ability to go against expectations of her abilities. Materially, she has some sort of responsibility that she makes it through so that other girls and women can feel that such is possible for them, that if they press hard enough they can also achieve things and resist patriarchal pressures against their desires. However, at the same time and once more, much/enough of the audience observing and watching the boundary-crossing is looking at it hoping and actively compromising so they may "prove" how women "like her"/all women should be barred from male-given things AND Rhaenyra cannot be much of an example if people have usurped her and totally blocked her for just being a woman.

In other words, this one woman is made to stand for all women because society already makes "woman" into an entity without diversity, without personality, with personhood and human vulnerability or grace of development and psychology. If a woman breaks apart publicly, it's likelier she'd get called "crazy" or be described as "throwing a tantrum" while also expected to not handle huge responsibilities without male accompaniment, as if she were a child that's also meant to conform her behavior entirely to what others want from her in their own designs, no matter the inspirations for her feelings and goals.

Rhaenyra is not reviled for her taxes in broader/later history, but because the councilors of Aegon III's regency saw that "risking" the throne for a woman was not worth it. Especially with what happens to Baela, with Aegon's council trying to marry her off and criticizing her for acting "unseemly" by hanging out with men, drinking, maybe sleeping around, and definitely flirting and daring to run away and choosing for herself a husband. Munkun saw her actions as "proving" that the woman ruling was chaotic by nature.

Let's consider what happened with the first female marathon runner, Kathrine Switzer, in the 1967 Boston Marathon. She was "allowed" to run but discouraged and criticized for it by her boyfriend and even her own coach at turns before and during the actual run. The organizer, John Semple, shouted and tried to intimidate her, even hitting the coach show trying to protect her and stop him from running her off--during the race. Other people actively tried to stop her from running or felt it was their right to slow her down to get pictures.

Later this same guy (Semple) would try to make it as if he only wanted her to not "mess up" "his" race and was afraid she'd ruin it. Do we actually think that your female student at a male college would not face such discrimination and scare tactics almost daily? Kathrine Switzer, while doing the rune and a little afterward, even blamed herself for much of the abuse she faced. But I don't think that makes her a bad person or even weak. And since she is human, I'm sure she had her moments in her private life. Does this then mean that she wasn't a victim of misogyny and active attempts to disempower her? No, she still faced people trying to deny her autonomy, therefore she was a victim, but a victim who continued and managed to find some

Switzer definitely managed to actually finish and show female autonomy on her own terms by racing despite these things, but she, unlike Rhaenyra, this form of social backlash occurs from the time a girl understands social cues. What happens with Switzer is, I think I can say figuratively, a high-intense microcosm of what happens to girls and women all the time: constant intimidation, belittling, discouragements, and even manipulations to get them to over-compromise or give in to hidden/semi-unconscious desires for control over them/exclusion. How one finds and maintains that strength and focus is always subject to circumstances that shift in constant reflections and response to the environment, which .

If it feels like Rhaenyra was overly unaware, it's because GRRM made her too unwilling to respond to things a bit quicker or anticipate making her fall concentratedly and quickly. I say this because it was necessary--writing-wise in his vision--for Rhaenyra to begin to fall by some sort of action-inaction (Othello and tragedy writing).

What is a "pure victim"? One that does no evil or questionable actions independently with or without provocation at any point in their life, or one that only ever is victimized without trying to take control back after victimization?

At first, there is no such thing as a person, someone who hasn't done something at least amoral once in their lives. In the second option, what do you truly expect a victim to do, sit and take it? And what happens when humans try to take back control after being victimized?

Some like Alicent do worse evils and abuse others, some do more serious things but also strive to be more altruistic, and some aren't so altruistic. In all of these options, there are always mistakes being made, errors, and misunderstandings because that person is navigating how to gain and keep power, riding the line of self-reservation vs helping others without expectation of immediate gain. This is not as easy as it seems since you first have to have an understanding of who you are, which might have been messed up from your trauma and which you must entangle while living life and surviving. In other words, it's a treacherous road of going back and forth by itself. Some will falter, some will "fail", and some will "succeed"; but I don't think what makes you less human is that failure/faltering. Of course, Rhaenyra is not "perfect" nor a "perfect victim"--why should she, for me feel even somewhat bad for her, or blame most of her troubles on the patriarchy that denigrated her in the first place and had set up several of every same challenge that she had to directly face in order to gain power?

There is no such thing as a "pure" victim and there never will be (as in a victim that has no accountability for their own actions, as they are still human beings of some intelligence and cognition). There is just victim who must live on with their traumas and make a life for themselves. Again, Rhaenyra became a tyrant towards the end AND the act against Nettles was still blood purity rearing its head so she can take back control during paranoia, as I state in this Twitter thread. At the same time, she definitely came to the point she was at from misogyny and direct attacks from childhood. Two things are true at once.

There is a kind and level of scrutiny on Rhaenyra and woman who take on traditionally male-reserved positions (context here, Westerosi monarchy) that has two sides: the woman-as-social-troubler has to work harder to stay in power AND yet, why should she have to "convince" others that she is worthy, esp when many will never be convinced and she will always be less preferred than a mediocre man? The story presents us with this question. She "works harder" precisely bc people will doubt her and try to stymie/block her hypothetically made moves. So there's going to be a perennial back-and-forth. And as we see with Cersei, Catherine the Great, & Elizabeth I, one even can see that a female ruler decided to/pressured-by-circumstances to eschew "ordinary" femininity and claim NLOGness.

That scrutiny she gets is still a colored one, one that is made from an idea of what leadership looks like and it is a masculine/militant and assertive-aggressive kind. Even Alicent's directing the city is publicly not for her but for her son, so it's acceptable. that what Alicent wants and sees her way to power, through her son. People in Westeros are not looking at Alicent as a leader in her own right; they're looking at her as a mother and wife to Kings who hang back and think of ways to defend those men's properties.

I agree that there was a kind of "opportunity" for Rhaenyra or any woman there but (scroll down to section D to get to the main point faster) and think or imply that all or most of her ancestors were primarily interested in female leadership and the death of blood purity is false.

Check this post out by la-pheacienne, who writes how like in Greek Tragedy Rhaenyra is the protagonist: "Both characters [Alicent & Rhaenyra of HotD] have reasons behind their actions but there has to be only one character that is in the right, and that is Rhaenyra. Both characters will be punished for their errors, the hero will suffer because of the antagonist first of all, and their own errors of judgement (tragic flaws) and the antagonist will then suffer for their vile deeds in relation to the hero. That's a Greek tragedy. Simple."

I feel like Rhaenyra was in a place similar to a glass cliff sort of thing:

University of Houston psychology professor Kristin J. Anderson says companies may offer glass cliff positions to women because they consider women "more expendable and better scapegoats." She says the organizations that offer women tough jobs believe they win either way: if the woman succeeds, the company is better off. If she fails, the company is no worse off, she can be blamed, the company gets credit for having been egalitarian and progressive, and can return to its prior practice of appointing men. Haslam and Ryan say their studies show that people believe women are better suited to lead stressed, unhappy companies because they are felt to be more nurturing, creative, and intuitive. These researchers argue that female leaders are not necessarily expected to improve the situation, but are seen as good people managers who can take the blame for organizational failure.

While Rhaenyra is not subject to a capitalist company of main men, there is the same pattern of using women to mark women as unnatural leaders but also using their labor.

There was also an "opportunity" for Aenys I, Maegor I, Alyssa Velaryon, and Jaehaerys I to all push forward female candidates for the throne or heirship...but all decided against it to hold onto power. It's funny how this never gets mentioned in this discussion of their introducing a female ruler into the Westerosi society, that it rested on this one woman. you know some of those ancestors mentioned as having been "disappointed" in her because she supposedly was just not up to snuff. IT doesn't really matter that for generations, women have been purposefully barred from taking the throne and that over time, the Andal preference and precedence of amel-only got stronger and stronger, thus making more problems for any female official heir, later on, to be seen as worthy enough even before she ever attempts to present herself. It's like we have forgotten what happened to Rhaenys, how she and Corlys both worked hard to convince the lords and it still not working out for them, with th votes going nearly unanimously for Viserys!

Yeah, she could have seen the chance to make sure that women could rule easier everywhere else...but you're underestimating how gruesome that task was.

You: "Blew it so hard that her ancestors are ashamed of her."

Anon, which ancestors? Jaehaerys? He would have been more upset that Viserys dared to name her, even over Daemon! He refused to name his firstborn, a girl, his heir, he rather call a council to make sure others chose a mal heir for him than name Rhaenys heir, he passed over her the first time by naming his son as heir and would have kept right of the first night if he hadn't been pressed by both Alysanne and Septon Barth, and it was Septon Barth who finally convinced him. He refused to give as much attention to his daughters as his sons, didn't give them any military or political training or made sure they had equal training so that Alyssa, who wanted to be a warrior, eventually focuses more on birthing Baelon kids. He psychologically tortured Saera in a way to make her submit to his designs on her marriages, when her actions obviously come from him not fully considering her a true agent or full person. He rushed Daella into marriage and pressured Alysanne to marry her off to just anyone, thus the girl married a man more than 20 years her senior before she ever reached 17. And she died in childbirth. Had no relationship at all with Gael.

Again, you must notice how Targ women lose more and more confidence in their rule/autonomous rule/political education with each new generation, right? Naerys and Rhaella are martially raped and have no power to their names whatsoever, relying on male relatives or having none and totally exposed to abuse with little-to-no haven. That's Aenys, Maegor, and Jaehaerys' fault, which I already stated. Maegor would have done what he did to Rhaena and denied her power by marrying her or just imprisoning her. Aenys would not have named her heir at all, thus Rhaenyra doesn't get to even acrue power for herself.

None of her ruling male ancestors would have wanted her to even rule in the first place! They would be "disappointed" no matter what. Maybe except for Aegon I, but again what happened with Rhaenyra is so much more than these individuals' expectations and resulted from their actions.

And as for the female members: Visenya would have hated that Jaehaerys compromised so hard like Aenys, and removed so much of female power. What would she have done after Maegor killed his own nephew, Viserys, after torturing him for days to draw Alyssa Velaryon out with Jaehaerys and their kids? What would Visenya have done if she saw Maegor

Maybe her sister Rhaenys has some "disappointment" in Rhaenyra not seeing, not going to hold you, over Rosby and Stokeowrth. The thing is that even with the rule of six and thumb that she herself enacted, it didn't completely erase men beating their wives because a total raze of Andal traditions would not be politically expedient to her and her sibling's new rule and hold on power, so Rhaenys would have some hypocrisy for her disappointment. Since Rhaenyra was thinking of her own hold on power during a civil war where anything could happen and had a true competitor, unlike the first 3 conquerors, at her door, I think Rhaenys might also consider this and look more broadly, recognize the similar-to-worsened conditions present. But I also think she would see how far women fell off in the dynasty and think of more than just Rhaenyra's personal decisions.

--Digression?--

Visenya and Rhaenys would be horrified that Rhaenyra had to fight at all for her position while side-eyeing her dumb choices, but still going for her and approving of her sentence of her claim of power despite those against her. Visenya would definitely be less understanding of her paranoia, as she's all about strength and competence. Then again, she herself gave too much advantage to Maegor even before he became king because she loved he was technically more hers to love and be loved by. What would Visenya have done if Maegor had died prematurely? Would she also have gone bloodthirsty and raze the earth (figuratively and literally)? By how she reacted to Rhaenys' death, if Maegor died prematurely, there's a chance she's going ballistic?

No Visenya could have insisted that Rhaenyra marry Aegon. But with Rhaenys being 10 years older and having to wait at least until Aegon was 13 (Maegor was 13 when he married Ceryse and Viserys II impregnated 19-yr-old Larra of Lys when he was under 13), how long until then would Alicent have plotted and undermined her, cutting away her influence or going against her more and more, turning Aegon from her as she does in canon and what then? Or would Visenya force/convince Viserys to train Rhaenyra to become a better leader all her own so she could rule over the incompetent Aegon/Westeros, because again she hated incompetence and Rhaenyra would be the actual adult doing things?

--END of Digression--

Alysanne has her own complicated issues with women expecting/seeking power through her relationship with her older sister, and her other daughters. She also tried hard to get women and girls in her family to have the same access to power as the males. She was also intelligent enough to become a maester (as the maester-written account categorizes "intelligence"). If she looked at Rhaenyra, she'd likely be glad there was a female heir but prefer it to be Rhaenys, true, because Rhaenyra is younger and it should have gone to Rhaenys anyway. But ALysanne asserted girls' right to rule not from t heir inteeligence or lask thereof--bc boys don't have to be to be "n0minated". She never expressed conditions on the firstborn girls she wanted to be Queen.

And all of these women and men simply did not live as Rhaenyra lived or lived during a time when misogyny was so set in the systems and against them that they could judge Rhaenyra impartially. Truly, we can't 100% rely on any of these people's perspectives of her. And all of them still did sibling/incest marriages for the sake of keeping their blood "pure" just as Westerosi/Andal peoples did. this is a feudal dynasty, anon.

These posts: #1; #2; #3.

*EDIT* (8/21/23):

THIS is a great post by mononijikayu about medieval queens, female rulers, the history of how women in leadership positions were made and seen as threats to the very structure of social "order", and contextualizing Rhaenyra thru Empress Matilda. I didn't even know about Matilda's husband being comparable to Rhaneyra's Daemon! PLZ READ!!!!

Excerpt:

just as much, along with these fictitious portrayals, more lies are depicted. these women are considered vixens that cause havoc to men by shifting them into desires and danger. through the written word, we see how women are cast in roles of villains in men’s lives. it is because by their conclusive thoughts, women are the only creatures that are able to turn ‘good honorable men’ into despicable creatures who do shameful, deplorable acts for the sake of women’s pleasures. [...] it is within this narrative that ancient chroniclers declare that women were in fact the doom of men. if they were not able to control the dangers posed by the wiles of women, then the foundations of the mighty society they had built would be up in flames. [...] as i mentioned, these factors of community are written down and preserved. and with that, the example of the ancients were the foundations by which medieval society built itself. the same concepts continued to cause the same issue within society and that was the exclusion of women from participating in the bigger picture of community and state, much so with governing states in their own right—without judgment or disapproval.

#asoiaf asks to me #the targaryens #rhaenyra's characterization #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra i #fire and blood comment #rhaenyra and feminism #asoiaf #fire and blood

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mondaysjournal · 11 months

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6/16/2023 - Needing // Getting

It's been a relatively uneventful week. On tuesday, I went to magic club and lost a few times, once with your kaza, because I copied a time stretch and hit only the most useless spells off of it. But I did win one game with taigam using the leveler thoracle combo. This was a game where etali (the green red one from march) got at least 8 etb triggers not just from it being played, but from other people copying and cloning it. On thursday, I was able to play with all of the pieces of Shelob (without shelob since she hadn't come out yet) and I predictably lost most of those games given her low power nature. But I did get to win one game off of an ezuri's predation making 11 beasts and then a roar of challenge. I hope I can get an actual shelob soon. And then today I went to hmart to get some stuff. I don't think I got too many interesting things, but I did get shrimp, mangos, and some of those moshi drinks we saw at maruichi that one time. They have frozen rabbit for a relatively reasonable price (compared to wegmans anyway) but I decided against it. They also had duck for $5/lb (which is how much it is at costco, I think) but I also decided against that. It felt kind of indulgent, and I think I want to get one for a special occasion. I don't really know if that will come up any time soon, given that not many people are around, but I might just get one next time I go there. That tenderloin for $12/lb is always tempting...but I will wait for you to come back to do anything with that. I kind of want to do something more interesting with it than a roast, though. I know you think I'm already good at making food, but I hope that by the time you get back, I'll have improved, or at least have found new things to make for you that I couldn't before. I will always try hard to be better for you, because you deserve that much.

A lot of places feel very different without you here. It's not always apparent when I'm there, just walking around, living, but in the reflection and the rear-view it really does feel like something incredibly important is missing. Sometimes I get mad that you left me here, but it's never for very long. Because it also made me realize just how deeply in love I am with you. It made me realize just how much I need to hold you in my arms. How much I need you to hear you breathe as you sleep next to me. How much I need to be able to kiss you whenever I want. I knew that I needed all of this when you were here, but now in your absence I realize how all of that is what gave my life real meaning. I won't go so far as to say that life before you was pointless, or not worth living, but...it really did change everything. I didn't really have this sense of "future sight," where I could say what I was planning to do or where I would be. I just had to keep going for no other reason than to see what came next. I had hope that things would get better, but I didn't know how that would happen. I just had to keep going, living that life I said I would live. I would accept whatever came to me. And then you showed up and gave me something to cherish and protect. It's a lot easier to think about creating a better future when it's one you're going to share with someone else. That's something I always dreamed of having and something I really didn't think I would ever obtain. So if I ever get mad, it's because you came into my life and gave me all these things and made me so happy as quickly as you left. But that's okay, because you're coming back, and every time you tell me you love me, that moment comes closer. I hope it's okay that for a little while after you come back I'll hold you a little tighter, stare at you a little longer, kiss you a little harder, because I'll have missed you so much. For now, I'll just be grateful that I'm in love with the cutest girl in the world, and that she loves me back. It makes me so happy that you're my princess. I love you so much.

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livingwithlosingyou · 2 years

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Living with Losing You - 9/2/2022

It’s SO HOT!

I am actually melting. We are in a heatwave right now, and the wall unit A/C is not really working as well as I wish it could.

Today was a good day. I woke up at around 7:00am, took Sadie on a decent walk, and then picked up the apartment because it needed to be cleaned and I had been putting it off.

After I cleaned I made myself a list of things that I wanted/ needed to do. Did I get to everything on the list? NOPE. Did I get to a few things on the list? YEP. I feel accomplished. Anything is better than nothing.

After I got my list together I headed to PetSmart (this was my first stop) to grab Sadie’s food and come treats for the animals. These two are so spoiled, but they deserve it and I love them so much. They had so many cute costumes and halloween stuff already out, and it made me sad to think that you are going to be missing your favorite time of year. I am still going to make it a point to do the things that ew would have done. I ended up ordering Sadie and Latte some collars for the season. I think you would approve.

After this trip, I made my way to Fashion Valley Mall. If anyone knows me, they know I hate shopping like this. Plus, I hadn’t even eaten yet, so I was really not in the mood to walk around. I was glad that I mustered up the strength and will power to go. I wanted to get it over with and I was in the area.

The errand that I needed to run was actually for a misunderstanding with Fabletics. I bought some leggings back in December and apparently signed up for a membership. Well, you know how that goes, you forget you’re paying for it and then suddenly you have 8,000 member credits (okay not that many but I did have 8 lol) which means I had 8 outfits (top and bottom) worth of credits to use. And even though they had a sale today and I “lost money”, again, I had 8. I ended up using 3 for today. I wanted to use some of it at least. They were extremely helpful though and I was glad that I got to go into the store to try on things, etc. I will post a picture of what I got!

Additionally, for being a Cal Chamber member, I received a $25 gift card to See’s Candies like almost a year ago. I decided to finally use this and treat myself. I got a box of 12 chocolates, and have made pretty decent headway on this so far. I have about 1/3 of the box left still. It took so much self control to not devour it all. If you’re curious, I am a dark chocolate girl. Milk and white chocolates are too sweet for me, I appreciate the bitterness / balance with dark chocolate. Probably a fun fact that no one cared about, but no regrets for sharing it anyway. James, you know how seriously I take my chocolate. Also though, for the first time in a while I did what you would call my “happy food dance”. It really did help improve my mood though.

I also decided to swing by Pink while I was there. Honestly - it’s been really hot and I am just (no shame) sweating through my bras. Ladies, you get the struggle. I wanted to add another bra to the line up since we are getting into Santa Ana season #sdstruggles. I also bought like 7 new pairs of underwear. I can’t pass up a good deal. Or cute underwear. We all can understand that.

After all the shopping, I was ready to drop since I hadn’t eaten yet. I talked to your mom on my way home (so nice to talk to her) and then I unloaded and unpacked all the bags. I definitely need to do some laundry tomorrow!

I finally decided what I wanted to eat for lunch, and ordered a salad with chicken and a side of GF bread. I ate this as I talked with Erika (I really am on the phone a lot, but I think it helps me). Her and I walked for almost 2.5 hours. She has been such a rock and an incredible friend. Really thankful for her. Anyway, I was supposed to go to practice today, but I was honestly so worn out. I ended up texting Aaron because it was just a recovery day (not much to coach on) and I had a church group dinner in just a few hours. I definitely needed a nap. My body is still very much recovering from everything. I have been allowing myself to nap for at least 30 minutes a day, though I kind of hope this does not become a habit. I haven’t napped during the days I am working though, and I have found that that is a struggle.

I woke up from my nap to a text from Bri asking if I wanted to go to the farmers market. I had not been in weeks, so I did want to go and check it out. One of the last times I went to the market was when you watched me play and I sang there in June. So crazy, it feels like yesterday and ages ago all at the same time. When you walked up to watch me play (the apartment is just down the street), I sang “Thinking Out Loud” for you. You were so excited about it. It was a really sweet moment that I am glad that we shared. Anyway, so I quickly got ready and met Bri to walk around the market. The new set up is strange, but it is what it is. There were some cool new vendors, so it was nice to see some variety.

After the market, Bri walked me back to my apartment, and then I walked Sadie with her back to her work office. I needed to walk Sadie before the church event.

At this point I had not eaten dinner yet, but was fully just planning on grabbing some food afterward. Bri had bought me a bundt cake (thanks again for that if you are reading this!) but I wanted to save it. I quickly grabbed my things and headed over to the church group house dinner. I was excited and nervous, per usual. I think it’s more in social settings with new people I almost don’t always know what to say, if I should tell them what’s going on with me, etc. It just makes me anxious. I got there a little before my friend who invited me, but it was a gated community. I initially parked outside and attempted the gate code to go through the walk-in entrance, but it was not working. I quickly texted my friend and he called me and was ironically pulling up to the gate. He told me to just grab my car and follow him in, so I ran to grab my car and drove up to the gate and now was trying the code on the car gate. This was not working either. The STRESS I was feeling. I cannot describe it. He was also struggling with it (he got out of his car to help me) and then the guy behind us said he didn’t know it either. So this was all great. It luckily eventually worked, and we drove in. I followed him until I had to branch off to find a guest parking spot, but this was pretty far out. Luckily he waited for me so he could show me where this place was.

We finally got inside and I was pleasantly surprised with the group size. It was about 8-10 people total. I met a lot of great people, and exchanged a few numbers with some girls. This is a big deal, as having grown up with 3 brothers, I am typically more comfortable with boys. Yay for girl friends! We went over the sermon for Sunday that is upcoming, which I really appreciated. It was nice to get a glance forward to reflect on the message that is being taught. I really loved how we all just talked about our understanding and the significance of why God felt it was important to include in the bible. We ended the group with prayer requests, and I opened up to a couple of them about our situation. They were so kind and offered to support me if I ever needed to talk or wanted to get out of the house. It meant a lot.

After this I was STARVING. I decided to just grab some Mexican food, head home to eat it, and now I am sitting in bed typing this. I’ll admit I did eat some more See’s Candy too. I can’t help it, it’s so good.

Tomorrow I am meeting up with my parents fairly early to walk the pups, brunch with Marissa, seeing Erika for the first time since you and I hung out with her over 2 years ago, then seeing another friend in the evening. Should be a fin but busy day!

I hope that you are enjoying heaven and playing with Max. I am sure you and your grandpa had a lot of catching up to do as well <3

Thanks for being my guardian angel, I love you so much.

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols.

Thanks for doing life with me as long as you could.

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

PS - As mentioned, here are the outfits I got, and here is a picture of Sadie cakes (as you called her).

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pangielumix · 9 months

Text

Why You Should be Corageous

“Be brave”

How many times in your life have you heard that?

Being brave is more than a sentence. It’s a whole concept that applies itself to more than just your vocabulary. Fear is a constricting feeling that can prevent the best things from happening you. You may be scared of getting rejected or having your hopes and dreams crushed by a simple no or your crush calls you fugly (your not, they are). Fear is nothing more than a fence to jump over, like learning to ride a bike or how to tie your shoelaces it can be accomplished, overpowered and forgotten. But it does come back like muscle memory, creeping up your spine and in your finger tips when you have something that has two ways of going coming up.

From experience, i let fear take too much from me. It took away most of my teen years and i lost a lot to it. Lost out on exploration, experimenting and honestly lost a bit of my self identity due to fear of being judged. But at the end of the day the only person who really cares is yourself. No one is walking around judging people from head to toe, and if they are their honestly not worth your time anyway. Everyone is most likely too focused on themselves. Thats the thing about humans, we are all very self obsessed.

You may be thinking, well LUMIX since your such a smarty pants how to I get over fear? It’s more simple than you think. All it takes is… saying yes. Thats right, just say yes to more. (Famous words from Chuck Bass) I’m not implying you should say yes too heroin or sharing needles. I mean say yes to that cake because one slice isn’t going to make you obese. Say yes to going to drinks with your girlfriends instead of the same old netflix and staying in because that’s a lifetime memory your missing out on. Say yes when your trying to hype yourself up for a job interview, you are worthy of it, you worked hard to get where you are and you DESERVE to say yes to things that will only improve your lifestyle, happiness, appearance and general human-ness. At the end of the day you should always be saying yes to things that can send yourself into the future you so desperately desire.

Im not necessarily saying fear is a bad thing though, there’s a reason why its a natural human emotion. It can stop you from making life changing mistakes that can alter your entire lifeline and put you exactly where your most scared to be. For me and probably most woman and girls its turning into my mother. Truthfully fear is good, healthy honestly. It pushes you to challenge yourself and sorry for being cliche but “Face Your Fears”. It’s essential in the evolution of yourself. How are you meant to become the person you desire to be without pushing yourself to over come the very thing that could possibly be standing in your way? And how would you overcome fear i hear you asking, the answer is challenge yourself. Do something that you wouldn’t, like order something new from your local deli and possibly fall in love with that new bagel order. Better yet ask out the cute cashier and you could be meeting your future husband or wife. Send out your writing to magazines maybe you’ll be published, post your artworks to instagram maybe you’ll be recognised.

Yes you may be rejected but guess what I have a solution, Pick. Yourself. Back. Up.

Keep trying, keep pushing just keep going. At the end of the day the only way to improve is to face your fears, be brave, push yourself to be the person that you KNOW you can be. You are holding yourself back, stop disappointing yourself and saying tomorrow will be the day you change. Make the change right now, this instant.

You are capable of anything, dont ever let yourself believe otherwise.

LUMIX

#fashion blog #coquette #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girl interrupted #lana del rey #divine female #female hysteria #girl blogger #girlblogging #femcel #mindset #health and lifestyle #change my mind #keep moving forward

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ziracona · 2 years

Text

I used to be way more of a doormat and appeasing because I was raised to be polite, but after enough people taking advantage of that, by college I was like “I’m really done wasting my time enabling horrible behavior. Look, bud, you now get the same level of thoughtfulness/tact/politeness as you give—ima mirror whatever approach you come at me with, because I don’t have the energy to put 110% into a relationship while you give 40 anymore” and it’s so funny that like without fail the kind of people you’ll show your favorite movie to super excited who will then go “Eh I didn’t really like it it was kinda boring” or be even worse instead of like, saying nothing, or finding a polite thing to say, are sooo shocked when you just honestly tell them what you think of stuff they share back.

Like it’s almost uproariously funny. One dude was like “I’m gonna make fun of you & your taste & fave game for reccing it to me since you liked it so much yourself, bc while I haven’t even touched this video game personally, I watched a game sins video on it one time, so I have a PHD in knowing it has no redeeming qualities,” and then was just offended out of his head at how hurtful I was for when he wanted me to watch a show he liked and I was like “Thanks for thinking of me, but I know the MC from the show this is a spinoff of, and find her impossibly obnoxious, and I just don’t think the story would be worth it to me,” like just couldn’t believe I’d be so tactless. Nother dude did the exact same thing, & then was so offended I didn’t pretend to not hate a ship in a mutual fandom whenever he kept bringing it up over and over despite already knowing I both hated, and didn’t want to talk about it. Knew a chick who would tell me she didn’t like things I brought up all the time, or thought my comments were stupid, but then was so offended any time I like, mentioned how much I was relieved a character from a game we both played that she liked & I hated, finally died & left the story.

Like without fail, that kind of person is always /so/ shocked, and /so/ offended if someone treats them even a less mean version fo the way they treat everyone they talk to. Occasionally after I start doing this bc the subtle kindness approach didn’t work, a person will go “Wow I’ve been kind of an ass huh?” & improve but 9 times out of 10 it’s just Comedy Central with them failing to see any kind of double standard but lost in the way I’m not Yes Maning them into next year like the idealized npc version of me in their head. But anyway this is on my mind not even because of that all too common (esp in Avid befriending-many-people-&-jumping-fro-1-to-the-next fandom spaces) shitass personality Load Out, but because whenever I do have nicer people I interact w in such circles, which happens not like, infrequently, but way less frequent than the ones who suck, sadly, it’s unimaginably funny to me in the opposite direction—like I’ll just be there talking to them nicely about something I can’t stand — not lying or anything just like, yeah I don’t mind listening to you talk about this movie I hate, bc I like you, and I have no need to tell you how I feel about the movie—you didn’t ask. You just wanna infodump. & I got no problem w that—I like hearing you talk, & you don’t feel a need to cut down & preach at everything I ever say, so we actually got something good here back and forth. But inside my head against the backdrop of how many mediocre to shitty people I’ve known recently I just am like “Baby girl, I have things in my loadout for you & only you that you can’t even imagine.”

#it’s funny but in a good way. it’s nice to have people who make you put the shotgun back in the closet and take out the snack case instead #(I know it’s easy to get paranoid online even tho I don’t interact much w a lot do you but if you’re worried I don’t vent about people who #are gonna see it in the space they’d—u know—see it. I vent about tumblr stuff irl to friends usually. this ain’t about u dw this is about me #talking to someone earlier & having a blast)#(bc they are one of the good ones & it’s so funny how night & day interactions w humans can be)#(one of my favorite ppl who shares a job w me is like this like girl has such different taste we like opposite things on a crazy level #but she’s so nice & chill I never gaf)#(shoutout to Erin. who was like this in college 💙)#(this is about a friend talking to me about Zutara for so long while I’m like :) I hate that ship but baby for you I’m just gonna enjoy the #enthusiasm — for you I’m true neutral today please-continue)#anyway don’t keep being a doormat for people—it’s actually way better if you’re frank because it speed weeds out people who aren’t going to #improve or be good to you anyway & you deserve better than being the Mean Girl’s follower to some asshat with 0 perspective for what it’s #like to be someone else #& it’ll make the good ones even /more/ fun to be around /more/ deeply appreciated in your heart #you become a different kind of aware once you shift from ‘this is bad but I’ll take it’ to ‘I’m not gonna put up with this anymore’. it make #the experiences quite different #Had a NB friend be like ‘:(( I’m lonely can I watch whatever you’re watching w you?’ & I was like ‘Sure. Here’s the context—it’s my #childhood fave show I rewatch sometimes for comfort and nostalgia. : )’ & they spent the next 20 minutes trying to find things #about it to call problematic till I kicked them off the call & later were so surprised I didn’t humor them #wanting to explain all their kinks to me. Ppl fkn wild bro. & we don’t gotta take it. Good ones exist too.

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doppopoppo · 3 years

Text

|| Uramichi Daily Headcanon ||

|| Warnings: minor sexual harassment ||

|| Uramichi • Shy|F!Reader ||

Clubbing

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙

With the music blaring, more than what he was used to, Uramichi got a headache. He didn't even want to come here. He would much prefer their usual restaurant to drink. But Usahara being the annoying fool he is, dragged everyone to some club he frequents. Something about wanting to see the cute bartender. He should’ve just gone home.

Uramichi looked around the table. Utano was beyond drunk and complaining about her boyfriend. Iketeru was up on stage singing. He was drunk but still sounded good. Kumatani was busy trying to get Iketeru down from the stage. Usahara hitting on the bartender. The annoyed and exhausted man was busy smoking his cigarette, hoping he could go home soon.

“Look at those girls.” Uramichi heard Utano speak up, “oogling over Iketeru like that. Just cuz he’s got a nice voice and looks doesn’t mean shit!” He watched her complain and drop her head on the table. Probably crying.

Just as she said, he could see girls of all ages fawning over Iketeru. Some were even cooing at Kumatani, touched by his big brotherly gestures at Iketeru. Just how drunk was everyone tonight? He’ll get Usahara for this later. At least they’re having fun, well, most of them. Uramichi felt pity for Utano, but there was nothing he could do. So, he just gave a simple pat on her head to calm her down as she cried her soul out.

“Um, excuse me.” He heard a soft, meek voice near him.

Uramichi paid no mind. It was probably some conversation he was overhearing. Utano complained to him and wanted to know why her boyfriend still hasn't asked her to marry him. She’s been dropping hints. He felt awkward as he had no answer to it, considering he wasn’t close to either of them. He sighed, he’ll probably leave soon. But he feels bad leaving his friends drunk inside a club.

Uramichi felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see a young girl, perhaps no older than 25. She looked to be very shy, a faint blush apparent on her <skin color> cheeks. She wasn’t looking at him either but at her fingers, which she was twiddling. “Um, hi there.” Her blush intensified.

It was the same voice as earlier. So, it belonged to her and it was directed at him. He wasn’t interested in getting with some girl he had just met in the club. “Listen, I’m not a cordial man. Nor am I interested.” He quickly rejected the girl. Plus, she deserves someone better than him anyways. He’s in his 30s already, she’s got time to find someone better or improve herself; unlike him.

“There ya are cutie!” He heard a gruff voice coming towards his table.

Utano had long passed out and his friends were still busy doing what they already were. Why is everyone so social in this club?

He can hear the girl mumbling and, was she shaking?

“Where’d ya go? I turn around an ya gone.” The man came up to the trembling girl.

She clung onto the hem of her dress. “I was looking for a friend.” He could hear the fear in her voice. “I couldn’t find them.” She whispered and turned away from Uramichi.

“‘s okay pretty lady. You’ve got me to keep you company tonight and the bed warm.” His hand slipped up to her waist. A sly and gross smile displayed on his face.

Uramichi saw the young girl flinch. He’s not sure if it’s the drinks rushing through his body, but he quickly got up. “You should lay your grimy hands off people who don’t want it on them.” He glared at the gruff man. “Especially not my girlfriend.” Uramichi wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the man.

A gasp left the girl's mouth when she heard him. She stumbled back and felt his toned chest on her back. Despite smelling like cigarettes and alcohol, he was warm.

Uramichi now understood the situation. She wasn’t trying to hit on him or take him back to her place, vice versa. She was trying to protect herself from some man making inappropriate advancements on her. He didn’t like men like that one bit. The girl in his arms didn’t deserve this, no one did.

He could feel her trembling under his arm, so he pulled her closer. He slightly moved Utano to the side and had the girl sit next to his seat.

“Hey listen! She was the one asking for it!” The man defended his actions. “Dancing on the dance floor and swaying her hips.” He licked his lips.

Uramichi was disgusted.

“She was simply enjoying herself. In no sense was she asking for you, or anyone, to come talk to her.” He glared at the man. “She has me to come back to.” Uramichi smirked.

This was extremely out of character for him, but he couldn’t stand by and let someone get harassed. Not when she came to his table for help as well. The stranger, no longer interested, cursed him out. He knew he’d have no chances of winning in a fight against Uramichi. All those muscles weren’t just for show. He walked away, leaving the tree of them at the table.

“Thank you.” He heard her say behind him.

He was grateful she was unharmed. He gave her a fresh glass of water to cool down from the recent event.

“My name's Y/N.” She put her hand out to shake his. “Mines Uramichi.” He replied.

“Sorry to have bothered you and your girlfriend. You didn’t have to do that.” The girl was afraid to look up at him.

She’s right. He didn’t have to, “but it was the right thing to do. I’m glad you’re safe.” He shook her hands. ‘They’re soft.’ He thought to himself. Especially against his own rough palm. “Also,” he pointed to the passed out Utano, “not my girlfriend. Just a coworker. Out with coworkers after clocking out.” He explained and sat down next to her. She seems to have calmed down.

She made an ‘Ah’ face and apologized for the misunderstanding. She looked at him properly for the first time, ‘He’s handsome.’ she thought to herself. Right as she was about to excuse herself, Uramichi spoke up, “you’re free to stay with us at the table until you leave.” He proposed, “for safety measures.” She took him up on his offer and thanked him for his generosity. He reminded her of an older brother figure.

Usahara came back to their table, confused, yet happy, to see the unfamiliar, pretty girl. Right after him, Iketeru and Kumatani joined their table. They all had questioning looks. Uramichi explained what had happened and the girl kept saying thank you.

Kumatani scolded her for coming to a club alone late at night. Iketeru sang random tunes to lighten up the mood. Usahara attempted to flirt with her but Uramichi glared at him each time. Utano’s still passed out. From what he’s noted, she’s shy but gets along with others with ease. Maybe he’ll hang around a bit longer. It’ll be rude of him to not walk his “girlfriend” back home.

Author’s Note:

This came out better in my head, I swear! As a manga reader, I like to think Uramichi actually considers his coworkers his friends 🥺 Thank you for the requests so far! I see y’all thirsty for a specific person at the moment aye 👀 they should be up by the end of the week, be on the look out!

Also I wanted to thank you all for the support you have shown me so far 💜 it means a lot and truly does motivate me to continue writing. Feel free to DM me if you want someone to talk about the anime with XD

Enjoy!

#life lessons with uramichi #uramichi omota #uramichi omota headcanon #big brother uramichi #uramichi x reader #uramichi #daga iketeru #utano tadano #uramichi oniisan #kumatani mitsuo #anime x reader #omota uramichi #usahara tobikichi #uramichi getting annoyed at usahara

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evelxtus · 3 years

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Yet again, me in your inbox to spam you with ideas I can't write myself. Lets get some jealous drabbles or something in here with Xiao, Kazuha and Zhongli. Could be them jealous of another person, or even just an animal that's getting more attention than them hehe <3

Random thoughts — Genshin Impact.

The boys are jealous.~

characters: xiao, kazuha, zhongli.

style: drabble (xiao), scenario (kazuha), headcanons (zhongli)

warnings: use of fem!reader.

notes: more like drabbles, i feel like this is just random scenarios and thoughts of how these boys would react hshssh. Hope you like it anyways.

Xiao.

That kitten completely captivates you. It's so cute and soft, plus it's quite friendly. Always take advantage of any occasion to make a place for itself on your lap, completely ignoring the presence of Xiao who was also by your side.

You are both sitting under the shade of a tree, separated for a few inches apart. The cat was purring as it looked at you, blinking slowly with full confidence on you.

You are so focused on the cat that you don't even realize that Xiao is with his eyes on you, with a not very pleasant expression on them. His eyebrows were furrowed in disgust and his lips formed a small pout.

The cat now sets its gaze on the boy, and its tail suddenly bristles with fright, running away from both of you in quite a hurry.

“Eh? Kitten, I wanted to continue playing with you...” you comment in a whiny voice, noting how the animal is no longer anywhere where it can be seen. You decide to look next to you, and just when you make eye contact with Xiao, he lets out a little "hmph" and looks away.

Despite having a mildly angry expression, a blush can also be seen on his cheeks. I mean... even he realized that being jealous of a cat was not fair, but there was nothing he could do to feel otherwise.

“Xiao, did you scare the cat?” you ask getting closer to him, sitting as close as you can to the boy. “That cat can't stand anything. Not even a look. It is not my fault that the animal is so weak.”

When you listen to his words, you know perfectly well what happens to him, no matter how surreal it may be. You look straight ahead when you realize his jealousy towards the animal and you let out a small giggle, impossible to hold back. Xiao looks at you sideways. “Tsk.”

“Sorry, sorry. Do you want to lie on my lap too?” Oh my god, how you like to tease the boy. “Why would I want such thing? I'm not that pathetic cat.” he answered simply. His eyes don't seem to fixate on any point of the landscape, as if he's nervous. And of course! What he wants most at this moment is to have his head on your lap while feeling the delicate touch of your fingers through his hair. But no, he doesn't feel like he deserves it right now.

“...I guess I wouldn't mind you laying on my lap instead.”

Well, that would be a good way to make up for the little tantrum of his jealousy.

Kazuha.

You spent most of the day with a friend. Kazuha wanted to be in your company, but seeing that you already had plans, he didn't want to say anything about it.

When you got back, you "accidentally" ran into him on the way home. You quickly went to greet him with great emotion. “Oh hi Kazuha! How have you been today?” you asked with a smile. The boy seemed calmer. He let out a small sigh from his lips slightly curved into a smile that was almost impossible to percieve. “Could have been better, but complaining won't help at all.”

You were silent. What was he referring to? You had never seen the boy jealous, so you couldn't imagine him like that. Although yes, the boy felt jealous very from time to time, but if you did not notice it it was for a very simple reason.

He doesn't show it in rage, anger, or anything negative. What Kazuha does is try to improve himself. He takes you to more dates, to more beautiful places that anyone else could not take you, he dedicates more beautiful words to you and makes you feel like the happiest girl in the world just with his compliments and actions. That's what he does when he's jealous.

This bean is so wholesome.

“I was wondering if you would like to go out and do something together tomorrow. If you have other things to do, you are free to refuse, of course.”

Zhongli.

To be honest, finding out that this man is jealous is VERY COMPLICATED. If in any case you find out how he is really feeling, it is because he has wanted and has given you clues about it.

Still, Zhongli is rarely jealous. He has full confidence in you and your feelings for him. And he may no longer considers himself a god, but he still has some feelings of greatness. So, jealousy? Impossible. You are his and that is more than clear.

There is no need for any contract for this. If someone decides to come between you, they will suffer the wrath of the rock.

If someone looks at you too much and Zhongli sees bad intentions in them, he will not hesitate to hold your hand or wrap his arm around your shoulders and thus have you firmly by his side. You will always be under his care, so you don't need to worry. Nothing will happen to you if Zhongli is present.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin xiao #xiao imagines #xiao fluff #xiao headcanons #xiao x female reader #genshin kazuha #kazuha headcanons #kazuha x reader #kazuha imagines #genshin zhongli #zhongli headcanons #zhongli imagines #zhongli x reader

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Text

alphabet boy II

SYNOPSIS: college AU. Armin, your brilliant tutor, invites you over to his house for some studying. Naturally, you're nervous and he seems to be giving you a reason to be.

PAIRING: SCUMBAG!Tutor Armin x FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: half edited, noncon/dubcon, fingering, non-penetrative sexual content. gaslighting, manipulating,

A/N: really need the motivation to write again and I've been slacking on my multi-parters so here's a somewhat highly anticipated one. Armin fuckers, this is for you. non-Armin fuckers, I hope this converts you

WORD COUNT: 2.0k

II. I.

“You’re not paying attention.”

You feel his voice right by the shell of your ear, and the proximity nearly makes you reel back in surprise but you manage to catch yourself.

“S-sorry” You apologize, wishing you didn’t stutter.

The thing is you’re just really out of your element. This is the first time you’ve been to Armin’s house for personal tutoring, and it was hard to focus on the material when his presence was so distracting.

It wasn’t like you were fantasizing about him or anything [well…]-you always tried to banish those thoughts as soon as it came. But still, being alone with an attractive boy with a disarming charm was causing some jitters. You felt like a shy middle schooler, on edge and jittery.

The last tutoring session in the library when he [basically] called you stupid plagued your mind. The memory of him feeling up your thighs lived in your head rent-free.

“Let’s take a break.” He sighs. Your heart drops at the noise of disappointment but you suppose it’s what you deserve.

You push your laptop lightly aside on the table, the bleak light straining your eyes, and ask for the bathroom. You just wanted to freshen up and be alone for a few seconds. The bathroom is meticulously clean, something even you knew was unexpected for a boy. You looked at yourself through the spotless mirror, scrutinizing every flaw.

You sigh, fiddling with your dress collar. Why you had tried dressing pretty for a boy so out of your league, he may as well be in Mars--you didn’t know.

When you return, there is a tall glass of lemonade waiting for you.

“Thought you might be thirsty.”

It’s a simple gesture that makes you blush so you thank him earnestly. Like the gentleman he is, he assures you it’s no problem. Not wanting to prolong the awkward silence, you compliment his apartment, “This is a really nice place. So much light and space.”

You’re babbling but he engages you regardless, and you two are mindlessly discussing the benefits of living at off-campus housing over dorming. His words are pleasant but there’s a sinking feeling within you as you notice he’s bored. Or maybe distracted was a better word.

“So, do you have a boyfriend? Or anyone you’re seeing?”

You nearly choke at the question uttered through a buttery voice.

“Oh um, not really.”

“Not really?”

You made a mental note to answer in definitives. Armin seemed the type to snuff out anything he reasoned as half-truths.

“No. I uh, don’t have a boyfriend.” And then you clarified a pin-drop later, “And I’m not seeing anyone either.”

The blond hums a playful tune that’s vaguely nostalgic.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

You don’t understand the point of this line of incessant questioning, and can’t calm your heart rate.

“I-um, I don’t-“

Taking one look at your serious face, eyes rimmed with worry and cheeks pink, he laughs. It’s a startling sound like bell chimes.

“Relax. I just wanted to know if you had any experience.”

The sentence flies out of your mouth before you can even ponder it: “What do you mean by experience?”

It’s not his fault if he can’t hide the feral grin that crosses his mouth right at that moment. You can’t discern his expression as you’re staring at anywhere but him, so you don’t notice the uncontained excitement that glimmers in cerulean eyes.

“Let’s move to the couch. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

You think about saying that you’re fine wherever you are and didn’t really feel like changing positions, but he’s already striding towards the couch. So you start packing up the materials, before a clear voice calls out to you, “It’s okay. You don’t have to bring all that. Just bring your flashcards.”

You hoped that wouldn’t mean he’d quiz you, but that’s exactly what he meant to do.

“Law of diminishing returns.”

“Wait! I know that one!” You brightly exclaimed, “ Uhh..it gives way to the catch-up effect which means poor countries tend to grow more rapidly and they’ll one day essentially catch up with wealthier economies.”

The blond ran his hand through his hair before sighing. You could feel your heart drop. You were sure you were right. Was your answer wrong enough to cause exasperation?

“Stick with the formal definition next time. I didn’t ask for the theory based on the law.”

You pouted, and Armin couldn’t help but relish in how eagerly you sought his approval, like a puppy performing tricks to appease their master.

“You should sit closer. Can you even see the word?”

You moved closer to him, knees knocking into each other. He looks down at the completed set.

“Well, you didn’t do as bad as I expected.” Ouch. But maybe he meant it as a compliment?

“But,” the corners of his mouth curled, “I’d say you’re still struggling.” Never mind.

“T-this is a new chapter though. I don’t think we’ve even gone over it in class.”

Blue eyes narrow, and you wonder if he’s going to give the well-meaning spiel about how staying ahead was the only way to keep up. That mantra may work for someone with high ambitions and an extremely good work ethic but you were no well-oiled machine. You had other classes too!

“Why are you so defensive?”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the question, spoken so softly and casually, you almost miss the disdained lilt.

“Oh uh-“

“Listen to me. I quizzed you so I’m able to assert your skill level. And your response to my assertion is that it’s something you haven’t gone over in class yet. Do those things relate to each other at all?”

Meekly, you shift your attention to the rug.

“Answer me.”

“N-no”, you squeaked.

“And what have I always told you? The only way to keep up is to-“

“Stay ahead.” You finished, “I’m sorry, I just-“

“Did I say you could interrupt me?”

You could feel the blood rushing to your ears, unsure when the atmosphere had shifted. Your heartbeat was beating rapidly and you could feel your body go warm.

He sighed, and placed a hand over over your folded ones, squeezing your palms.

“You know I’m just looking out for you right? It almost feels like you don’t care-“

“No!” You exclaim, “I-I do.” Heat pools into your cheeks once you realize your grave mistake, “I-I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

The blond smiles radiantly and it nearly melts away all of your worries…until he opens his mouth to deliver another damning remark.

“You know, with your looks…you don’t really even have to graduate. Maybe choose an easy major and then get some rich husband to take care of you.” There’s a distinct lack of humor in his tone as if he wholeheartedly believed every word he was saying.

Your eyebrows furrow in blatant confusion, and in the back of your mind, danger signs are flashing at the back of your head. Your thighs are growing warmer. Oh no, this could not be happening right now.

“That’s what most girls’ dreams are anyways.” He inspects his spotless nails, “You chose this class because Ackerman’s attractive right? That’s why his class has such a high drop rate…silly girls join, not understanding how harsh of a grader he is.”

You open your mouth to defend yourself but the next inflammatory remark he spews almost sends you to shock, “Though I bet, if you got on your knees for him, you’d be getting an A on those finals.” He laughs as if he was saying something particularly amusing, an undercurrent of spite coloring his words, “You wouldn’t even need me as your tutor.”

There are a million things on the tip of your tongue but no voice to speak them out. You want to ask him why he’s been so weirdly invasive, what his weird hang-up with professor Ackerman was, and of course, the casual sexism was really throwing you in a loop. Still, you have no doubt Armin could beat you to a bloody pulp several times over in a verbal lashing, and your mind was too fragile to deal with this.

You’ll sign up for a new tutor or better yet no tutor. You’ll get over your social anxiety and join a study group. You’ll go to all of Professor Ackerman’s office hours. Anything had to be better than this. You’re giving yourself this pep talk in your head but there’s no denying that your legs feel warm, and the self-improvement speech is withering away in your mind as it seeks to instead process how Armin fucking Arltert is touching you right now.

He pins you against the cushions, one hand locking both of your wrists. You’re shaking but your pupils are blown out wide.

He smirks, “There’s an excellent stress reliever for studying you know.”

You limp in his hold but the cocky attitude behind his words brings you back. You thrash under him, earning an annoyed growl from the blond.

“I’ve been so fucking patient with you, you know? Planning out your study guides, sharing my notes with you, proofreading homework, going over the mock exams—don’t you think I deserve a little compensation?”

“I-I’m sorry.”

He's right. He's right. Armin actually has done so much for you. Maybe it was too easy to take for granted because of how efficient he was, and how he acted like it was nothing. But right now, nothing really was everything.

He smiles. Yeah, this is who you were. Add just a little bit of pressure and you crumble. That flash of bravery from before was nothing but a petulant outburst from a child who didn’t know any better.

Armin coos, “Isn’t it a little embarrassing to be a virgin at your age?”

With unbridled precision, while he’s still holding your lower body down with the weight of his legs, he unbuckles his belt and ties it around your strained wrists. Red fills your face, and like always, you’re struggling to find the right words to respond. To say anything at all. Most of all, you can feel a wetness building at your core.

“I know the way you look at me, you know.” He kisses the dip of your neck, slender fingers splayed from under your shirt, “I know you’re into this.”

And because he is a scientist who must have evidence to back up his hypothesis, his hands find themselves under the waistband of your floral skirt that you foolishly wore, pushing the cure pastel underwear aside. You’re writhing in his grasp but maybe not as much as you should be, but it’s not your fault your movements are sluggish right?

“You have such a funny habit of not deleting your windows and keeping your bookmarks open.”

You freeze.

“This entire time I thought you were some prudish virgin even though you dress like a whore. Someone with who I had to be gentle. But all that fucking porn you read? Nasty. Is that why you need help in this class?” He punctuates slowly, "Because you're wasting your brain for something else?"

Immediately, you remember how you left your laptop on the table. You remember how many times he used your computer to double-check the notes, and you trustingly let him, forgetting that despite deleting your tabs, the hidden windows of steamy erotica were not yet erased out of their existence. Embarrassment violently paints your body.

He doesn’t wait or care for your response as he starts a vigorous assault on your clit with his slender finger, rubbing up and down in a vicious manner. The second finger prods at your entrance, feeling a tight cavern despite the amount of slick collected. Your eyes roll back in pleasure-is this what being with someone is like?

Stop. Get a hold of yourself. Why are you so fucking horny right now? It doesn’t matter what Armin said about you or how he called you out for the fiction you’ve read, because this is real life. But Christ, it’s Armin, the boy you’ve had a crush on since the moment he explained to you what a marginal abasement curve was. Stupidly handsome Armin with a gentle voice and too-blue oceanic eyes. Stupidly handsome Armin who coerced you into being under him.

You’re so fucking warm and tight, and Armin can’t wait to sink himself inside of you, can’t wait to humiliate you further. With nimble fingers he untied the ribbons of your dress like you were a Christmas present, groping your soft mounds and marking up your collarbone with teeth and tongue. Crystalline tears roll down the side of your face. You really shouldn’t be crying when you’re this wet.

“So fucking funny how you can’t look at me in the eye when we have a conversation but you read the filthiest fucking smut I’ve ever seen.”

taglist: @candy-hime

#tw noncon #tw dubcon #attack on titan fanfiction #armin arlert fanfic #yandere armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet x you #manipulator armin #armin x y/n #armin arlet imagines #armin smut #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting

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sj0228 · 3 years

Text

astro notes for fun lol

HEY! this is my first astro observations post so don't be too hard on me lol unless u wanna then sure maybe i can improve them somehow BUTANYWAYZ this is for entertainment purposes only!! obviously these are just my own observations so if they don't resonate with you don't get offended or you're a big ol' 🅱️uss so here they are!! also SHOUTOUT TO MY AMAZING FRIENDS fyi i got sum help from them by asking them billions of questions to confirm my suspicions so uh hope that makes the observations more accurate LOL ANYWAYS HERE THEY ARE!! i'll probably make more in the future cuz i think they're super fun to make :D also if u couldnt tell uhm this isnt very professional im not professional BUT I TRIED TO MAKE IT PRETTY so pls dont be bothered lol im just doing this for fun i didnt even wanna make an astro page so yea </3pretty unreliable LMAOOO

👩🏻‍🦲 the house your mars is in is what pisses you off the most!! (eg. 1st - people assuming things about you, 5th - people beating around the bush, 7th - things that disrupt the harmony of your environment, 9th - the need to hold back your opinions because others get bothered by them being "offensive")

👩🏻‍🦲 cancers are true ambiverts and i've truly never ever seen a cancer who wouldn't be both introverted and extroverted at times. they are always either social introverts or quiet extroverts lol. or both!! (somehow 0_0) they enjoy people's attention, whether it's wanting to be noticed or appreciated or generally cared for, and they need their alone time. they tend to be very productive at those times, too.

👩🏻‍🦲 ok i have a lot of notes for cancers so it's gonna be a lot lmao sorry anyways!! i've also noticed they LOVEEE breaking loose every once in a while, if not every time they're given the opportunity! thing is, it's usually only if someone else is there to convince them or do it with them. they don't like taking risks alone! they are very impressed and fond of the 'wild child' persona people because they bring out the cancer's wild side!

👩🏻‍🦲 libra moons are absolutely loved by people, it's so crazy! like, no matter what they do they always have attention on them. this can manifest badly if the moon person is actually pretty horrible, things they do tend to be overlooked and others move on pretty quickly from their mistakes, letting them do whatever they want. i wanted to give an example but uh,,,,, i shall.. refrain😳

👩🏻‍🦲 libra suns with water moons are so scary when they're angry..

👩🏻‍🦲 cancer moon is what i deem as the zodiac sign cute-ifyer lol. literally any "tough" sign like capricorn, scorpio or aquarius becomes a super cute goofball with this moon. WEIRDEST THING EVER THOUGH is that it doesn't work for cancer suns?! like if a cancer sun has a cancer moon this just makes the person very confusing but very funny. they can brighten anybody's day without trying!

👩🏻‍🦲 okay uh this isn't an astro note as much as it is me being a phucken simp but uh..... I HAVE AN UNDYING LOVE FOR ARIES SUNS I WILL MARRY EVERY EACHAND ONE OF YOU ISTG. ARIES SUNS ARE THE NICEST AND FUNNIEST PEOPEL I'VE EVER SEEN YOU HAVE THE BEST HUMOR EVER AND YOU'RE SO KIND TO EVERYBODY YOU'RE SO KIND I LOVE YOU YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR THIS PLANET I WANT TO HUG YOU FOREVER okay jbshxhjn but fr aries are the best people ever?!?!?!?!?!?! pls

👩🏻‍🦲 okay JUST SO THIS WHOLE ARIES MENTION ISN'T JUST A POINTLESS LOVE CONFESSION - i've noticed a lot of ♥aries♥ people use the laughing crying face emojis (😂,🤣) unironically and it's honestly.....the best thing ever

👩🏻‍🦲 taurus suns do this sometimes as well

👩🏻‍🦲 THE MOST UNHEALTHY PERCEPTIONS OF ZODIAC SIGNS ARE PUT ON FIRE SIGNS, NOT THE WATER SIGNS AND THIS IS COMING FROM A PISCES!!!!!!1 every stereotype is always showing fire signs as those sunshine of the group people, the baddies, and the ones with the biggest 'idgaf' attitude. and while this can totally be true sometimes, most of the time it's super different! sad fire signs break my heart pls i just wanna hug you guys T-T they have it the hardest because unlike water signs who are already expected to be emotional, they often repress their emotions for the sake of others and because of the fear of betrayal or judgement, or just generally the idea of "it's better to have fake friends than to have zero friends". YOU GUYS PLEASE. cut these people off from your life you deserve soo much better i know it can be super hard to open up for you u just need a hug omg EVERYONE PLEASE CHECK UP ON YOUR FIRE SIGN FRIENDS ASK THEM ABOUT THEIR DAY N STUFF THEY WILL APPRECIATE YOU CARING FOR THEM! pls stay best and take care sweethearts ily!!!

👩🏻‍🦲 i've also noticed that some of the signs tend to show their sadness through anger - this is not just astrology though so if your friend has been jumpy lately please just check on them they are probably going thru sth😳 anyways the signs i mostly saw this in are pisces, aries and libra.

👩🏻‍🦲 cancers with feminine moons (earth and water) tend to be pretty introspective. they often think they're the ones being mistreated, and while this of course might be true, in reality it usually goes a lonnng way back lol. they often pay very little attention to others!! (masculine moon sign cancers (fire and air) can often be too focused on others more than themselves) this can be good because they don't snoop in other people's business but oh my god, guys, please pay attention to your friends, too! this WILL lead to lost friendships because, let's be real, nobody wants a one-sided friendship with someone who only cares about themselves! i don't want to target anybody here but this is just a pattern i've noticed wayyyy too often, so you might want to look into it and if you think this is you all you need is just to enlargen your perspective and it will all be okay. but please, PLEASE. think about your friends

👩🏻‍🦲 i needed to get this^ out because people often put this on leo placements but tbh i notice that leo placements are THE MOST generous of the entire zodiac and they always think of others first and that's what really makes them so popular. they very rarely are as egocentric as everybody says, they're just really loving and that makes them very lovable!

👩🏻‍🦲 scorpio risings are the prettiest people i've ever seen. not even kidding bruh i could stare at them for EVER their eyes are absolutely gorgeous and their mannerisms are just perfect pls marry me

👩🏻‍🦲 gemini and taurus placements make an individual soooo chill to the point where it often makes them lazy and a biig procrastinator lol. tho i love how they make light of it by using their amazing humor!

👩🏻‍🦲 you most definitely have your IC be one of your family members' sun sign or one of their personal planets. i have a taurus ic and my sister is a taurus sun!

👩🏻‍🦲 sagittarius suns are the best huggers cause THEY REALLY NEED A HUG SO GO HUG THEM RIGHT NOW. pls guys why r u so sad..

👩🏻‍🦲 scorpio mars aren't even as sexual as everybody says tbh. but they definitely do have some interesting.....interests ;)

👩🏻‍🦲 pluto aspects to personal planets are very prominent, but very hidden. if you have them, most likely you will be the only person to know about this side of you and it can be pretty dark..

👩🏻‍🦲 planets conjunct your sun will be the people you attract most in your life (venus conjunct sun - taurus and libra, jupiter - sagittarius and pisces, mars - aries and scorpio EVERYWHERE)

👩🏻‍🦲 your moon sign will be the sun sign of most of your friends

👩🏻‍🦲 if you don't quite relate to your ascendant, look at the sign you have in your 3rd house and at your mercury sign. this is how you communicate, convey your ideas etc. and will often be a major factor in people's first impressions of you :)

👩🏻‍🦲 lilith aspecting your sun may mean there's a side of you nobody knows.. 👁👁 you're also probably very convincing and people can be very drawn to you and they can't explain why. this also goes for lilith in 7th, especially in girls!

👩🏻‍🦲 you and your friends probably have each other's sun signs as your personal planets!!

👩🏻‍🦲 the kindest person you know is probably either a virgo or an aries.. and the meanest person you know is also probably a virgo or aries LOL

👩🏻‍🦲 capricorn suns & risings are THE hardest to read!! if they don't say what they mean people will just assume and they're never going to be right it's wild 👩🏻‍🦲 also capricorns definitely have the most dad energy, while sagittariuses are more like actual dads jdbshxcvb

OKAY THAT'S ALL!!!! im sure i have more but its 2 am i have school tomorrow or actually its today now so bye uh anyways there will most likely be more so if u liked these stay tuned!! oh and let me know if they were true witchu :o thats it love u stay awesome and super cool i love u byebye!!

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stutterfly · 3 years

Text

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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timelesslords · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got This Fever

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth catches the flu, and domestic fluff ensues

Annabeth woke up in pain.

This wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. Being a demigod, Annabeth was no stranger to pain. She’d had broken bones, burns, cuts, stab wounds…. you name an injury, Annabeth Chase had probably experienced it.

But this was a different kind of hurt, a hurt Annabeth hadn’t felt in a long time. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Her muscles ached, and even the soft sheets and pajamas she was wearing felt like knives on her skin. Despite being under a mountain of covers, she was shivering, bitterly cold.

There was no doubt about it. Annabeth was sick.

Annabeth never got sick.

She groaned, sitting up. That turned out to be a bad idea as a wave of nausea rolled over her, and she lowered herself back onto her pillows, falling the last half of the distance. She felt Percy shift beside her, woken from her movement.

“Hey,” he said, the smile fading quickly from his face as he saw her own expression, which was probably nothing short of miserable. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like crap.”

She surprised even herself with how horrible her voice sounded, raspy and dry. Percy frowned, reaching out and touching her forehead. He normally ran hot, but now his fingers felt cool against her skin, almost painfully so.

“You’re burning up.” he said, frown deepening.

“I’m freezing.” Annabeth croaked. As if to prove her point, she shivered involuntarily.

“That’s the fever talking.” Percy said grimly, “Hold on.”

He climbed out of bed. His warmth left with him, and Annabeth was left just that much colder, trembling under the covers. Percy couldn’t have been gone more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

When he returned he was holding a thermometer and a glass of water.

“Temperature first. The water might mess with the reading.” He said, apologetic. She wanted to hate him for that because she was so thirsty she thought she might die, but she knew he was right.

Annabeth sat up slowly. Thankfully this time she just felt a little dizzy and not nauseous. The thermometer was cold and uncomfortable under her tongue, but Percy kept a steadying hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb. With her oversensitive skin it almost hurt, but she leaned into the contact anyways.

When the thermometer beeped, Percy traded it for the glass of water. Annabeth nearly downed the entire glass in one gulp.

“A hundred and one.” he announced, flipping the display so she could see. The number was lit up in red, signaling that she did, in fact, have a fever.

“I can’t be sick. I have class.” Annabeth said. Her voice was a little improved by the water, but she still sounded kind of terrible.

“Just email your professors and tell them you can’t make it.” Percy said, as if this were the easiest thing in the world.

For him it probably was. He did his best with school, but he also wasn’t opposed to ditching class every once in a while and blaming it on a fabricated stomach bug, something Annabeth found absolutely abhorrent. She hadn’t missed one class in her entire college career, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“It’s fine. I’ll just take some tylenol and I’ll be good to go.” Annabeth said. Percy gave her an exasperated look.

“Beth. You probably have the flu, you can’t go to class like this.”

“It’s just a little fever.” Annabeth protested. Really, she was already starting to feel better. It was just waking up that had been the hard part, and some ibuprofen would knock her headache and high temperature right out. Percy didn’t look so convinced, but what did he know.

“If you say so.” Percy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Annabeth looked at him suspiciously.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” she asked. Percy just gave a shrug, though his expression was a stubborn one.

“Nope. You can go right ahead.” Percy said, gesturing his hand off the bed. There was no way he should be giving up this easily, but if he wasn’t going to argue with her, Annabeth wasn’t going to be the one to start it.

She swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, glancing again at Percy. He gave her a go ahead look, so she did. The second she tried to put weight on her feet, her vision blacked out and her knees buckled. She would have fallen flat on her face if Percy hadn’t been waiting there to catch her. Her headache immediately doubled in intensity, and Annabeth groaned.

“Still wanna go to class?” Percy asked. He at least had the decency to sound sorry for her, even though making fun of her would have been just as deserved.

“That was mean.” Annabeth complained. Percy lowered her back into bed, gently pushing her shoulder so she would lie down again. Annabeth didn’t need so much convincing this time.

“It was the fastest way.” Percy said apologetically, brushing some hair out of her eyes “You would have fought me on it all day, otherwise.”

Annabeth sighed, but didn’t deny it. She probably would have been unbearable. She probably still was going to be unbearable.

“How am I sick? I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu in my life.” Annabeth said. She glanced upwards at Percy, who was looking very much like he was trying to not say something.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” he said quickly, but Annabeth knew his expressions better than her own, and she knew when he was holding back.

“You’re thinking something.” Annabeth said accusingly. A smile cracked through his holding-back face.

“Should I not be?” he asked.

“You know what I mean.” Annabeth grumbled.

“Okay. I mean, I’m sure your immune system is very high-quality. I mean, it's yours, how could it not be?”

“Stop trying to butter me up.” Annabeth said, but she couldn't keep a smile all the way off her face.

“Who said I was buttering you up? I was complimenting your robust immune response” Percy said innocently, still grinning.

“Now you’re trying to distract me, but it won’t work.”

This was a complete lie. If he tried a little harder, it probably would work, and he knew it as well as she did. He caved anyways, which meant he probably did actually want to tell her what he was thinking.

“Okay, fine.” Percy said, “I was just going to say, you spent most of your winters at camp, which is totally isolated from the outside world, which means you haven’t really had a real flu season since you were like seven.”

“I went to boarding school.” Annabeth reminded him.

“Yeah, and you spent winter breaks at camp, or at your dad’s.”

He neglected to mention that she had spent one such break kidnapped by Luke and forced to carry the weight of the sky, which would have proved his point further, but Percy was not so ruthless during little discussions like these that he needed to bring up every last piece of evidence. Annabeth envied that restraint sometimes.

“Are you trying to tell me that my immune system probably actually sucks because it hasn’t been exposed to anything real since I was eight?” Annabeth asked. Percy bit his bottom lip.

“You said it, not me.” he said, with an apologetic shrug. Annabeth groaned again, rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face in her pillow. The sudden movement did nothing to relieve her headache; in fact it started pounding away with renewed vigor.

“But I got my flu shot and everything.” Annabeth complained, “I wash my hands all the time.”

“If you hadn’t gotten your shot you’d be feeling twice as bad right now, believe me.” Percy said. Between his ADHD-induced forgetfulness and his living in the city during flu season, Annabeth was inclined to trust him on that one.

“What do I do?” she asked, turning her face halfway off the pillow so she could look at him again. The sympathetic look he was giving her did not make her optimistic for his answer.

“Drink a lot of water and wait for it to pass.”

“That’s it?” Annabeth asked in disbelief.

“And keep an eye on your temperature.” Percy amended, “If it goes over a hundred and three I’m taking you to the ER.”

“Modern medicine is a sham.” Annabeth said. That elicited a laugh from him, at least.

“Go back to sleep. You can send your emails later.” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear.

“I don’t know if I can.” Annabeth said, and it wasn’t even a lie or her being stubborn. She was still freezing somehow, shivering even though she was under blankets again.

In response, Percy crawled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest, stealing his warmth, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

“You have class.” Annabeth protested. She felt his laugh, a sturdy vibration in his chest, more than she heard it.

“Not anymore. I’m probably just as contagious as you at this point.”

Annabeth tried again.

“I’m going to get you sick.”

“Maybe.” Percy said, not sounding particularly bothered by it either way.

“But…” Annabeth trailed off. She didn’t want him to leave, but it also didn’t feel fair to keep him here, knowing she was probably condemning him to the same misery she was feeling now.

“Don’t worry about me.” Percy said, reading her thoughts, “I used to ride the subway everyday, I think I’ve had every strain of the flu known to man. And if you think I’m just going to leave you here shivering, you’re crazy.”

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Annabeth mumbled, scooting a little closer to him. The shakes were finally starting to dissipate, driven off by Percy’s warmth.

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it.

“For now.” Annabeth said, though she had absolutely no intention of changing her mind, and he knew it better than she did.

“Go back to sleep, Wise Girl.” Percy said, kissing the top of her head.

“Fine.” she said, too tired to think of a good retort. “Seaweed Brain.” she added sleepily, for good measure. She felt him laugh again.

It took a while, but eventually she managed to drift off to sleep again, curled up against his chest.

#i had a shitty day at work so have some tooth-rotting fluff #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo one shot #percabeth oneshot #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #percy x annabeth

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

What do you think would happen if one of the Cullens realized they might also be "in love" with Bella during Twilight along side Ed. Mates be damned (not like their marriages are gonna last anyway), and everyone's on the table (just 1 love rival, not at the same time buuuuut could you imagine the chaos? *cough*). The usual Bella eaten/killed by Eddy boi is def on the table obvie, but like do you think there's a chance he might concede to one of his family (or just any other alternatives)? -Sw

Oh boy.

Why I Don’t Think This Is a Possibility

That said, I have to caveat that I don’t think this is a very likely path (sorry, I cannot resist).

It’s true I don’t think any of the Cullen relationships will last in the long term, but I also don’t think they’re inclined to cheat on one another or fall apart at a moment’s notice. They’ve made it this long, several decades, but more, none of them realizes anything is lacking from their respective relationship.

Carlisle and Esme are very devoted to one another and don’t realize they have fundamentally conflicting values. Jasper and Alice think they fulfil each other’s needs and don’t realize that they share nothing in common. Rosalie and Emmett’s is the healthiest relationship in the house but don’t see their major issues (Emmett doesn’t really support or understand Rosalie and Rosalie loves Emmett mostly for his love of her).

My point being, none of them are going to realize it’s not working out anytime soon. They’re going to need a catalyst, and per the end of Twilight, one is coming. Either a confrontation with the Volturi occurs, Renesmee decides to leave, the Cullen lifestyle changes, or things with Bella go awry. It can be any number of things, and it will happen given time, but at the start of Twilight we haven’t hit that point yet.

There’s also the fact that of the Cullens, only Edward would do this nonsense, and even for him it takes Bella’s delicious blood to grab his attention. When she was an ordinary human, he was not interested in the slightest, not even in her gift.

Each of the Cullens (Sans Alice and Esme) is completely baffled by Edward’s emotional whiplash and attachment to this human girl he doesn’t even know. Bella only becomes a vague concept to them when she enters as a serious fixture in Edward’s life, but even then, they really don’t know what to think.

No one in the family will do what Edward did in Twilight. Look at this girl they don’t even know and say “Ah, yes, I’m in love.”

Now, that out of the way, let’s play ball.

Alice

This actually will work out shockingly well if only because I suspect Alice will come up with the pragmatic solution of “sharing”.

First, Alice is by far the closest Cullen member to Edward. He holds her in high esteem, feels a strong sense of kinship with her, actually confides in her, and sees her as a very close friend. Edward looks up to Carlisle and adores Esme, but it’s not the same.

If Alice sees herself as getting together with Bella I don’t think she’d see this as mutually exclusive to Edward having Bella. Alice cares deeply for Edward’s happiness, far more than she does Bella’s general existence, and I think the idea of entering a joint marriage with Edward and Bella would be very appealing to her.

She’d have to ease Edward into it, of course, as he’d balk at the very idea of it, but I think he’d see it as a strengthening of his and Alice’s relationship as well as having the wonderful Bella. Better yet, Alice can be physical with Bella while Edward can go compose music about their love.

As it is this... This is kind of what happens in canon.

Alice tells Edward that not only is he in love with Bella, but that Bella is going to be her best friend, so he better not muck it up. She has to ease him into the idea of being in love with Bella throughout the first part of Twilight. Then, when the relationship is solidified, Alice is right there introducing herself as Bella’s new BFF. Bella’s friendship with Alice throughout the series is extremely homoerotic and I imagine it remains so after Breaking Dawn.

Edward is very pleased that Bella counts Alice as her best friend, Alice being far and away his favorite sibling and the one he approves of Bella spending time with (generally, when she’s not foiling his schemes).

I don’t think Alice and Bella will ever have sex, per se, but I imagine they remain quite physical with each other and Edward looks on with approval thinking to himself that this is how all female friendships should be.

And if Jasper has the nagging suspicion his wife is cheating on him then he’s not functioning quite well enough to put it into words just yet.

Carlisle

Edward would lose his mind.

First, Edward is very into Carlisle, and for all he insists his feelings are filial they sound remarkably romantic. I’d drop a quote, but it’s pretty much every time Edward thinks of Carlisle in Midnight Sun. More than that, Carlisle is the man Edward aspires to be, someone he sees as profoundly more good than he could ever hope to be.

Edward projects a very similar personality onto Bella herself.

So, I imagine if Carlisle sits Edward down and says, “Actually, Edward, I have fallen in love with this Bella” Edward feels very conflicting things all at once.

On the one hand, this means Esme/Carlisle is collapsing. Edward personally brought those two together and adores the idea of their relationship. Their relationship is what he hopes his and Bella’s will look like and is to him the married ideal of a perfect Mother and a perfect Father.

Carlisle/Esme alone falling apart would give him a complete existential crisis. That’s not allowed to happen.

And then that Carlisle wants Bella Swan for himself?! Edward would be faced with the immediate,horrifying, thought that for all Carlisle is a vampire he would be the perfect man for saint like Bella. Carlisle and Bella deserve one another, would be perfect together, and Edward should not begrudge them that.

On the other hand, Edward himself is in love with Bella, and while he thought he could nobly leave her, now he has to nobly stand to the side and watch as Carlsile and her marry. It’d be a very romantic and tragic thing to do, but there’s leaving Bella to her human life, and then watching her up front for the rest of eternity while bitterly hiding his feelings.

More, Carlisle will turn her. If Bella is his true love, then there’s no question of that. Edward’s seen where this goes with Emmett. He will destroy Bella Swan to be with her forever, and Edward will have to live with the shell of Bella Swan staring back at him, fucking his father, forever.

I imagine Edward desperately pretends to concede to Carlisle, to be happy for the pair of them, but as things progress and Bella’s permanent position in the family looks more and more likely, he loses his mind. He’ll snap and there is no telling what he might do.

My money’s on him mercy killing Bella while she’s still human behind Carlisle’s back. He’s sobbing while he does it, but he just can’t let Bella be tarnished by vampirism, and now he will carry this tragic, terrible, secret for the rest of time.

Whether Carlisle was going to turn her or not is up to debate. Given he turned none after Emmett, I think he learned his lesson from Rosalie and would be more than willing to let Bella go, even if he loves her, should it mean he would not force something she does not want and does not understand upon her.

That said, I think he’d never tell Edward his feelings for Bella, as that would ruin Edward’s fledgling relationship with the girl. This is Edward’s first brush with love and seems to be the only romantic love he’ll ever have. Edward has been so miserable for so long that Carlisle would easily give up his own happiness for Edward.

So, more likely, Twilight would happen anyway and Carlisle would spend the entire time being utterly miserable and pretending he’s perfectly fine. LOOK HOW HAPPY HE IS, ESME.

Emmett

Edward tattles to Rosalie immediately.

He loves Emmett, but he knows Emmett can’t possibly be serious about this, and more, fundamentally doesn’t understand how wonderful and amazing Bella is. He wants to turn her into a vampire, clearly, Emmett doesn’t know what’s best for the girl.

More, a man who would so easily break his marriage vows (even to Rosalie), does not deserve Bella Swan.

Edward watches Rosalie and Emmett’s marriage utterly disintegrate with a juice box filled with mountain lion blood and swoops in on Bella while Emmett is thoroughly distracted. Edward then gaslights Bella into believing Emmett is dangerous and despises her, making Emmett the new and improved Jasper.

Esme

Esme would never tell Edward or likely even realize her feelings for Bella herself. If she did though, she would give up the possibility of a future with Bella Swan in a heartbeat for Edward’s happiness, which means everything to her.

Esme will have no regrets, won’t even smile sadly at Bella, because she has Carlsile as her consolation prize and she gets to see the joy in both Bell and Edward’s faces which is far more important than having Bella to herself.

Esme would live vicariously through Bella and Edward’s relationship as well as the very existence of Renesmee.

Like Alice, this is one of those things that’s pretty much canon. I won’t say anything for Esme’s feelings, it’s more that Esme ships Bella with Edward (and mostly because Edward himself comes to obsess over her), but she does seem to vicariously get her joy through their nuclear family within the Cullen family.

Esme is a very strange person.

Jasper

Edward would attempt to murder Jasper or at least severely injure him. Jasper would be the ultimate threat to Bella, not even a man unworthy of her but not a man at all, and exactly what Edward needs to protect Bella against.

Alice tries to stop the fight, to no avail, and Edward will ultimately lose (despite all his confidence). I imagine Jasper doesn’t kill him, but tears apart his limbs, and uses Edward’s lack of mobility to kidnap and then turn Bella.

Bella has no idea what’s happening and the next thing she knows she’s a vampire and Jasper is telling her they have to leave the area (as he must now leave the coven).

Edward tries to track them down for the rest of eternity. He will get vengeance upon Jasper and save Bella this terrible demonic existence forced upon her. Of course, he ends up lost in Rio.

Rosalie

Edward would tell her that her feelings cannot possibly be real. Bella is a woman. More, Rosalie is unworthy of Bella in every possible regard, even more so than Edward himself.

Basically, Edward would lay into Rosalie in a way that he never has before with all of his venom. He will do everything he can to sabotage Bella’s opinion of Rosalie before Rosalie can even get a word in edgewise. He is successful at it due to Bella’s perilously low self esteem (much the reason he was successful with this endeavor in canon).

Rosalie and Edward get in a vicious fight and I imagine Rosalie eventually confronts Bella, making an opportunity to do so, and both warns her away from Edward, tells her everything, and offers to turn her despite Rosalie’s own mixed experiences.

Rosalie and Edward probably then fight and it quickly turns into something that’s very serious. If Edward wins, he murders Rosalie in the heat of the moment, and then leaves the coven in horror over what Carlisle must think of him now. If Rosalie wins... I don’t think she will, she cares for Edward far too much and would never truly be able to aim to kill or maim.

Edward disappears, drowning in his self hatred, and returns to find Bella Swan at some later date unable to resist the call of her scent. Depending where she is in her life, he likely murders her human husband if she has one and dvours her, as Alice prophesied so long ago.

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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 23 - Sci Fi

Here is the next part! There is at least one more part in this world. Getting really close to the end!

Masterpost Linked Here

Enjoy!

_______________________

Life moved on, and despite the growing anxiety I had after my encounter with Chris, things moved smoothly. Chris had disappeared after that night, leaving his resignation from the academy laying on his desk. Liam was busy with wedding plans, occasionally checking in to make sure I was happy with his choices.

He was honestly much more thoughtful about it than I would have been, and I was happy to have his help. My father arranged his leave and was on his way. We also heard from Liam’s parents that they were going to arrive soon as well.

When Liam received the news, he became perfectly still for a few moments. I watched him, concerned at the obvious change.

“Liam, are you okay?”

“I – I don’t know.” His eyes were unfocused, as if staring off into space. “Why… are they coming?”

“Because they’re your parents? I doubt they would miss the wedding of a royal family member, no matter how bad your relationship is.”

“Parents… it’s… all wrong.” Liam seemed to be struggling against some invisible bind. His dark blue eyes flickered, and seemed to almost glow in the shadow of the resting area we sat it.

WARNING. World destabilization detected. Attempting forced conformity… Failure… host and partner soul strength too high.

Unable to see the bright blue words hanging in the air, Liam continued speaking.

“This… isn’t right. I don’t have family." His face was becoming more certain. “It’s not my fate. All I have is…” He glanced at me, his eyes filled with pain. “Bel..?”

WARNING! Stabilize world story immediately or face destruction and mission failure.

I reached out quickly, holding Liam’s hands in my own. “Liam, take a deep breath. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

“I know it seems wrong, but for now I need you to go with the idea of having parents and family.”

“But…?”

“Trust me. “

“Okay.” He leaned back, sighing. The glowing dark blue of his eyes faded, and he closed them for a brief moment, before seemingly returning back to normal. “I trust you.”

We don’t belong here.

The uncertainty in this world grew each day. Liam, whoever Chris had become… me… we weren’t from this world. But if we deviated to much, the world could destabilize, and I could fail the mission.

I just needed to keep my head down, blend in and complete the mission.

Try not to rebel too much against the role I’d been given in this world, except the ending.

Simple, right?

_______________________

…

“We’ve talked the last few hours about our lists, now it’s your turn! What do you miss most about Chris, Alaira?”

Maybe world destabilization, mission failure and soul destruction aren’t that bad after all.

I stared at the group of young women in front me, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour how I had been roped into this... harem support group?

Allie, Ilene and Wen stared back at me, waiting for me to answer.

“I… miss kicking his butt in mock Mech battles?” I winced as I spoke, realizing they would probably take offense at that, but to my surprise they all smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, you were a very important rival to Chris.” Ilene patted me on the back.

Allie spoke up, “He was always talking about how he wanted to beat you and have you accept him as a fellow Guardian. “

“Yeah… he… I…” Wen started to chime in, but then her face crumpled as she sobbed into her hands. “What are we supposed to do now that he’s gone?! What am I supposed to do without him?! What if he never comes back?!”

“I miss him!”

“Me too!”

Soon all three girls were crying, leaving me in uncomfortable silence in the corner.

Blend in, don’t make waves, don’t try to change things….

“I can’t live without him!” Ilene’s dramatic cry broke something within me.

SCREW THIS!

“OKAY GUYS, SHUT UP!” I stood up, placing my hands on my hips as I stared at them. “You are a group of highly intelligent, talented women in the most competitive military academy in the known universe! And you’re nothing without some guy?”

“He’s not just some….” Wen started to interrupt, but was shushed by me.

“No. No matter how much you care for him. He is a guy, and you are all your own person. You have talents, dreams and stories beyond his existence.” I turned to petite girl beside me first. “You! Wen, you’re one of the top engineering students in the program! With your skills, it would be a cinch to improve upon the current Mech design!” After all, she had ramped up Chris’s Mech in the story, surely she could do the same without him!

“And you!” I pointed at Allie. “You’re a Guardian! You're a level B one at that! That's an even higher level than Chris!”

“But I don’t have his drive…”

“You can have his drive! You can have more than his drive! He spent half his time complaining about how people didn’t take him seriously or how people were trying to force him to be a Connector. You can be TEN TIMES the Guardian Chris was!”

I ignored her startled sputterings and turned towards the dark haired girl on the other side. “And you… Ilene.”

She stared at me warily. “What about me?”

“You’re a freaking Princess! And a super talented Connector! How can that become nothing if Chris isn’t around?”

“…I thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t.” I answered bluntly. “You treat your brother like trash, and that’s enough for me to want to kick your teeth in.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “That being said, just because I hate you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as a talented Connector. You just have a crappy personality.”

“Um… Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it.” I opened my arms. “You three have top-notch talent all gathered here in one room. What do you need Chris for?! You could be a force to be reckoned with!”

Wen jumped to her feet. “You’re right! I should design a Mech, one stronger than anyone’s ever seen.!”

“Yes!” I pumped a hand in the air.

“And I’ll fly it! I’ll terrorize the Hive until they go running back to their home planet!” Allie stood up as well.

“You’ve got it!”

Ilene joined in. “If I remember, Allie, you and I have a decent resonance match. How about we partner up?”

“Let’s do it!”

The girls high-fived each other while I watched approvingly.

“Let’s destroy the hIve!

“We’ll save humanity!”

‘...And then we’ll find Chris!”

I groaned.

They were so close… but I guess this is better than nothing.

The girls plotted the formation of a new team, surprisingly accepting the team name “Harem” (my suggestion). As they filed out, chattering excitedly, I prepared to escape this mentally exhausting group.

“Alaira, wait.” Princess Ilene stopped me before I could walk out the door.

“What is it?” I kept a neutral expression. I hadn’t been joking when I said I didn’t like her.

She hesitated. “Are you really marrying my brother?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“…No… it’s just…” She rubbed her face. “He’s… different. And I feel like you should know. “

Sitting back down, I crossed my legs and prepared to listen.

“Since he met you… William is a different person. He’s kinder… gentler… even goes by a different name. He’s never gone by Liam.”

That caught my attention “What was he like before?”

“Angry. Vicious. Hurt people just to watch them suffer.” Her face was blank, as if remembering things she didn’t want to. “He was so mad at the world for not allowing him to match, he spent all his time plotting to take down talented people who could.”

A villain. Was that who he was before Liam stepped in? Like how Alaira was before I took over? Or Chris before… whoever it was… took his body?

“I’m not pretending that I’m perfect, either. You’re right, I treated my brother like garbage, instead of trying to help him. I thought he was a monster. Honestly, I thought his hanging around you was some new scheme…. I was kind of hoping he would take you out so your couldn’t bother Chris…”

“So nice of you.” My tone was sarcastic

“At least I’m honest. Anyways, this doesn’t appear to be some trick… I think he’s changed… he actually seems to care about you. But I thought you should know who he was before he met you.”

“Thanks.” My tone was slightly better than before. “Don’t worry, I know exactly who I’m marrying.”

Liam. Not your villain brother.

“Good Luck.” Ilene seemed relieved, as if a burden was off of her shoulders with the confession, and hurried out.

I stood in the room alone silently for a few moments, processing.

There’s too many questions, and no answers in sight.

I left to find Liam. I missed him.

_______________________

I arrived just in time to see Liam and Alaira’s father facing off.

“She is my precious daughter.” The tall middle aged man with close cropped hair and a scowl made scarier by the scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth, towered over Liam. His disapproving air was evident.

“Yes.” Liam smiled and nodded, seemingly fearless.

“No man deserves to marry her.”

“Agreed.”

“So who do you think you are?” General Gladus poked Liam’s chest with a finger.

“The luckiest man alive to be able to stand in the same room as Alaira, much less stay by her side all my life.” He held out a plate in front of the angry man. “Cookies?”

“Well, you should know I don’t approve of this fast courtship…” He picked up one of the cookies and bit into it angrily. “You both are so young…” He took another bite. “And I don’t want you to hold her back…”

“I completely agree. I will do my best to support all her goals in life.” Liam handed the general another cookie as he finished the first.

“Good…” He chewed slower. “Is this chocolate? How did you get it so soft but chewy at the same time?”

“I developed the recipe. Would you like more?”

He picked up another one. “Just know this doesn’t mean I fully approve of you.”

“Of course not… Would you like some cake…”

“….”

“I also have homemade hot chocolate.”

“… As long as she likes you, I guess.” He finally muttered, his hands full of baked treats and dessert drinks.

Liam overwhelmed him with support spouse abilities. I laughed in the doorway, attracting the attention of both men.

“Anything for me?”

Liam nodded with a bright smile. “I saved you a plate.”

General Gladus cleared his throat as he saw the large platter filled with cookies.

“Don’t worry, Sir, I saved an extra plate for you.”

“… Don’t think you can bribe me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So I can have your plate, then?”

“The hardened general clutched the plate of cookies to his chest. “Don’t you dare! The boy made them for me out of respect for his future father-in-law!”

“…” Liam and I smiled at each other.

“How is the front line… Dad?” The title felt a little rough as I spoke it. I was still acutely aware that he was Alaira’s father, not mine.

“Stable, for now.” He frowned. “Fortunately we have an elaborate defense system, to give plenty of warning. But they’ve been retreating more and more lately. The higher ups seem to think that they might be admitting defeat, but I just don’t think so. I think they’re preparing for something… big.”

He’s right.

I knew the ending of the original story. Around the time Alaira was supposed to graduate, they had attacked in the largest numbers ever seen, necessitating all senior students being recruited to help fight. Even Alaira, who was without a Connector and would have normally been left behind was brought in. They couldn’t afford to leave any powerful guardian out.

I still have a little more time, though. I can train with Liam, maybe get Wen to help upgrade our Mechs, train up some of the students… We can have a chance to really face off against the attack.

There’s still time…

“Don’t let down your guard. You’re the best general we’ve got.” I patted Alaira’s father on the shoulder.

He crushed me in a big hug. “Don’t worry, your dad will protect the galaxy! You just get married in peace.” He leaned in and whispered. “See if he can make a few more of those chocolate cookies, okay?”

“I will, Dad.” It came much more naturally this time.

I’ll protect you too. I added silently.

_______________________

As the wedding drew closer, we were notified that the king and queen were on their way. Liam ignored the news, continuing to work on seating charts and music for the ceremony.

“We have to welcome them when they arrive. They are due any minute.” I finally spoke up, slightly exasperated with his head-in-the-sand act.

“…If we have to.” His voice was cold, his dark blue eyes flickering between fear and annoyance.

I held his hand. “Don’t worry. No matter who they think you are, or what they say about you, just know that you’re my future husband. Don’t worry about anything else.”

He reached out, pulling me tightly against him. “ Thank you.”

“Just play along with them. I held his face between my hands. “You’re Liam. Not Prince William. Not their son. Not Ilene’s brother. Liam.”

WARNING. DIRECTLY CONTRADICTING STORYLINES IS FORBIDDEN.

Liam tilted his head and studied me with a worried expression. “… Are you okay?”

“Just follow my lead. Please.” I looked away from the bright blue words in annoyance and moved.

We went to meet the Royal Family, each of us nervous for different reasons.

The King and Queen looked slightly like Liam and Ilene. The king had curly dark hair, severe features, made worse by the frown as he studied Liam. The Queen had the dark blue eyes that both siblings had, and a beautiful, delicate face… but the overall sense was ruined by the terrified light in her eyes as she almost hid behind her husband.

“So this is the girl you tricked into marrying you?” The king looked at me with morbid curiosity.

Liam took a deep breath. “This is Alaira, Grade S Guardian, my resonance partner and my future wife…”

“What game are you playing, William?” His father snapped, interrupting him. “If this is some ploy to ruin General Gladus, you should stop now.”

“This isn’t…”

“You should stop this now.” The Queen squeaked out nervously at me from behind the King. “He might be my son, but you can’t trust him…”

“…”

“This wedding is a farce.” The king snapped finally. “He’s a monster.”

_______________________

“Why did you follow me?” the mournful voice called out as I entered the dark room.

“Do you want me to leave?” I looked up at the large dark blue eyes curiously, barely able to make out the large form in the darkness.

“I didn’t want you to see… didn’t want you to know…”

“Know what?”

“That I’m a monster.” The whisper was filled with so much pain it made me cry.

_______________________

BAM!

Before I fully came out of the memory, I had punched the King.

“…”

There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone present.

“You dare…!” The King finally spoke up, rubbing his red cheek with a furious expression. “I can have you executed!”

“Just try, Barry.” General Gladus walked in, his hand holding a drawn weapon. “I’ll shoot you in your precious Royal Ass, and then what are you going to lounge on while I fight your wars for you?”

"..."

The room processed his words in silence for a moment, before the king burst out angrily.

“Gladus, are you threatening me?!!”

“Oh shut up Barry. " He waved dismissively with his gun. "It wouldn’t even be the first time I’ve shot you. Probably won't be the last." You won’t arrest me, you need me to protect your country.”

“You are willing to let your precious daughter marry this… this… “ The king trailed off, glaring at Liam, who stared calmly back.

“Yes.” General Gladus shrugged “I heard the rumors. Even with the 100% match I wasn’t about to let him hurt my daughter.”

“Then why…?”

“I’ve sat down with your son, Barry. I shook his hand, looked him in the eye. I asked him the hard questions. I’ve observed him around Alaira.” The General stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I know a good man when I see one. And I see one. One who loves my daughter. Maybe you should try looking closer.”

“But he…”

“Plus he makes delicious cookies.” He muttered.

“…He what?”

I stepped forward, blocking Liam behind me. “He’s not a monster. He’s my future husband. I honestly do not care about your opinion. But if you want to try to hurt him, just know… you won’t have to wait for my father to shoot you. I’ll do it first.”

“… Control your child, Gladus.”

“She even threatens you just like me!” He reached out and placed an arm around my shoulders. “So proud.”

“…Fine. “ The King frowned “I won’t try to save you from yourself. Marry him, if you want.”

“I plan to.”

“Whatever you’re plotting, William, you better stop now.” He glared. “You might have fooled them, but you won’t fool me.”

“I don’t have to fool you.” Liam’s eyes were dark. “You mean nothing to me.”

“I’m your father.”

“I have no family. I… I can never have family.” Liam turned away.

“William…” The Queen called out softly.

“I AM NOT William.”

WARNING. World Destabilization detected!

“Come on, Liam. Let’s go.” I grabbed his hand and walked away, calling over my shoulder as we left. “You’re free to attend the wedding, but stay away from us otherwise.”

“You’ll regret this!”

I laughed at his bitter words. “Enjoy the disappointment.”

Liam and I left.

_______________________

We sat in my room, and as soon as my hand left his, he curled up, holding his arms over his head.

“I don’t feel right.”

“Liam.” I reached out and touched his back, feeling him trembling beneath me.

“Who am I? I don’t think I’m William. The things they said… the things William has done… He’s not me.”

Warning!

"He's not me... he can't be... He's not..."

WARNING! World destabilization... Bright blue words and a mechanical voice appeared again.

“SHUT UP!” I yelled, drowning out the voice. I pulled his arms down, looking straight into his dark blue eyes. “You are Liam. And you’re my partner. And tomorrow you’ll be my husband. Nothing else matters..”

“But…”

“I can’t explain things right now. I don’t even know everything right now. But I know there’s a reason we’re here together. I’ve found you, and I won’t leave you.”

He held me close, both of us kneeling on the floor. He was clutching me as if I was the only thing anchoring him. I felt lost myself. I was frustrated at my lack of answers, angry at the pain Liam was experiencing, afraid for the future ahead of us.

“Alaira… no… Bel?” He whispered. “... I love you.”

I smiled at the unfamiliar but familiar name, pressing my face against his shoulder. “I love you too, Liam.”

“Marry me tomorrow.”

“Definitely.”

“Don’t leave me behind… please.”

“I won't... No matter what.”

A long silence fell between us. Finally Liam sat back, his face slightly red. “I wish we were getting married tonight. I can’t help but feel something terrible is going to happen to prevent our wedding.”

Foreshadowing.

Ignoring the ominous word that appeared in my subconscious, I smiled reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen…”

“ALERT! CODE LEVEL RED. PLEASE REPORT TO EMERGENCY STATIONS. ALERT!”

I sighed. “I take that back.”

We headed to the Command Level in the main Academy.

_______________________

“Dad, what’s going on?” I called out as we passed the main doors.

“Alaira…” General Gladus’ face was uncharacteristically serious. “It’s not good.”

I stood beside him, looking up at the large holographic display at the center of the command room, feeling the blood drain from my face. “The Hive.”

“They’re past our defense systems.” He slammed his fist against the table. “This doesn’t make any sense! How did an army this huge get past us without starting any alarms!”

I stared at the countless red dots on the screen, feeling lost.

This isn’t right. In the story I should have had YEARS before the Hive attacked in such large numbers. Even then they were caught immediately in the defense systems and gave the military time to prepare. How could they get past us… unless…

“Chris.”

He said he was going to end everything. Is this what he meant?

Alaira’s father was confused. “That male student who disappeared? How would he have access to defense system information?”

Chris wouldn’t… but whoever was controlling Chris might have more information.

I let it go for now. “What do we do?”

“There’s too many… and they’re headed for a defenseless planet in this system.” He hung his head. “I don’t have the manpower to defend it.”

I stepped forward, giving him a grim smile. “You’re not alone, Dad. I’ll help.”

“We! We’ll help.” Liam stood beside me. “We’re a powerful combo. You can’t afford to turn us down.”

General Gladus sighed. “Even if I recruit top senior students from the academy… the numbers we have… it’s a suicide mission.”

Warning! Mission Failure Imminent!

Your mission: Prevent destruction of the human race by the alien monster race known as The Hive.

The Hive are now attacking in large numbers. Your estimated chance of success against them in battle is 0%.

“If you’re not gonna say anything helpful, then shut up.” I growled quietly.

Liam turned towards me. “Are you okay?”

If you fail your mission, you will face soul destruction.

“It’s not like I’m swimming in options.”

You have one option.

“Who are you talking to?”

“What is it?” I whispered, holding Liam’s hand and squeezing it. I have to save him.

...

ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

...

I stared at the blue words silently for a few minutes. “Liam, what if I said we have an 100% chance of dying if we went on this mission…”

“You don’t know that…”

“...and I had a fool proof way to protect you… But we would be separated forever?”

I didn’t know what my fate was. But I did know in the deepest part of my soul one thing:

Liam was not my fate.

“I don’t plan to survive this, Liam… but if I could save you…”

“I would rather die by your side.” He didn’t hesitate.

“But…”

He grabbed my other hand, holding them both tightly. “We’ll face this together.”

_______________________

“It’s hopeless.” I whispered, holding him tightly. “What if fate is stronger than us?”

“I don’t need hope, Bel.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “If fate is going to separate us, then we’ll destroy it.”

“Together.”

“Always.”

_______________________

I looked at the hologram, at the countless numbers of enemies that awaited us, and leaned against him with a sigh.

“Together.”

He smiled in return.

“Always.”

#writing #please fix the story #fantasy #world hopping #amnesia #the world is breaking #Getting close to the end.

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refurbishedgray · 3 years

Text

Point of Contact

Reader x Tech. Maybe we get feisty and it’s reader x Crosshair, too. In this house, we like both.

Multi-part fic; probably NSFW; f!reader (she/her pronouns)

**Updates: I’ll tag you if you holler

Summary:

“No good ever comes to the Republic from Banking Clan business,” Hunter tells them, “Let’s get this done and get home, boys.”

Arriving on Scipio with the unhelpful directive of, “be discreet, but do whatever it takes,” the Bad Batch find themselves at the mercy of a stony representative whose allegiances lie with the best deal.

Or, the one where Tech and Crosshair think the reader is as intense as she is pretty.

**************************************

Part One

The office is too empty, too bright. The merciless glare of Scipio’s sun cuts across the room, gleaming unpleasantly from the gilded corners of all the fine furniture and glass. A corner office, inherited from an out-maneuvered relic of the past.

All light and no warmth, you think, not for the first time. Never any warmth. In your early years with the Banking Clan, being stationed here had felt suspiciously like a punishment you hadn’t deserved, a proving ground when you had already proven so much. These days, however, you’ve come to understand that the frigid peaks standing vigil beyond your window are a reminder of how far you have climbed.

Now, as you shift in your chair, the expensive Corellian leather barely squeaking beneath you, you squint past the harsh light filtering in from the floor to ceiling window at your back. It’s all pristine snow on those peaks. Icy. Easy to slip if the cold didn’t kill you first.

Yes, you had climbed and clawed your way up these proverbial mountains. And like the man who last haunted this office, it has left you with so very far to fall.

The early days had been simpler. Smile. Look pretty. Never forget what can be saved for later. You hadn’t forgotten. Beyond the pale blue sky, twinkling out of sight, are worlds fraught with battles, littered with unsuccessful or unlucky tacticians from two sides of a conflict that won’t ever be ended, not truly. You have always preferred to keep your strategizing corporate. Clean.

A frown drags at the corners of your mouth at the uncharacteristic foray into reminiscence of the…

The…

A phrase comes to mind and you allow yourself a small, private smile against the sunlight. The bad old days.

Since then, things have always been kept tidy.

Until now.

An unwanted spur of concern digs in behind your chest as your gaze turns from the window to sweep over the room. To your dismay, you realize why, and realize too clearly that the concern is not solely for yourself.

He should be here.

Things were less empty when he was around, a relic in his own right and your pride and joy and confidant. How proud you had been when you had been informed that you would require a bodyguard. “A mark of success if there ever was one,” you had told the few family members you kept in contact with, of which there were very few, upon being informed of the recommendation after your previous promotion. “Aren’t you proud?” you had wanted to ask. But you had not asked. Better not to make the query when the answer was always so heavy and obvious.

He had become your one and only friend. But he, too, is absent now, and upon permitting the observation, your office seems at once less empty and instead, guttingly, horribly hollow. Two rotations it’s been. Two rotations to give into the inconvenience of noticing.

No, no, you think. You had noticed. Admitting it, that is the phrase that would be more accurate, but if it makes you feel less or more weak, you find you cannot decipher the bitterness creeping up your tongue.

Rising from your seat, you at once miss the meager warmth provided by the leather as the cool office air licks at you. Once upon a time, you had comforted yourself with the promise that one day, you would get used to the cold here. It was one of the few lies you allotted yourself over the years. Crossing the office, the marble floors as white and frosted as the mountain peaks outside resounding crisply beneath your heels, you make your way to the small bar trolley tucked away in one corner. Your last guest, a senator with strong -- unsubtly strong -- ties to the Clan, had complimented your selection of fine whiskeys and other alcohols. You had not admitted then that you did not keep the bar stocked for the guests who were few and far between, but rather for yourself, to chase away the damnable chill in this place.

Your hand stills between decanters, your mind hesitating at the threatening burn that awaits your selection.

A bad habit.

You can imagine that peculiar modulated voice now. “Madam, the faces you make.”

Instead, you shun the alcohol and the ice that never thaws, yet still gets replaced each morning, now resting in a round chest, as gilded as everything else in this room, and reach for the Felucian pear juice. Duller, perhaps, but you don’t need anymore guilt on your conscience.

A sip, then two, settles a gnawing in your stomach you only notice once it passes.

Intolerable, you muse, downing what remains in the glass. The beverage is sweet, almost as sweet as the air outside is cold. Too quiet. Where are -

A rush of air and sliding metal breaks the silence. Glass in hand, your eyes narrow over the rim at the assistant who scuttles in. This one has been particularly insipid since her arrival. The daughter of someone marginally important, she is small and hunched shouldered -- she hasn’t learned, not like you did, and a part of you suspects she never will.

She stops just short of where the tile begins and as she does, your eyes track down her uniform to a pair of shoes that have never been polished. Stars help her.

In a quavering voice, she asks, “Madam?”

You raise a brow.

“We’ve received word. The transport with the troopers has requested permission to land. They’re on their way.”

You set the glass aside, gingerly, its bottom barely clacking against the tray atop the cart. Republic troopers. A battering ram when a scalpel is needed.

“Ah, the Senate’s grand favor,” you murmur.

“Yes, ma’am.”

So many years spent with watchful eyes on you has made you good at hiding your frustrations. You swallow a sigh before it ever rises and allow yourself a brief moment to thumb the crystalline edge of the glass. The senator had warned you.

Your voice is quiet as you instruct the girl, “Get out.”

She scurries gracelessly back through the door. It is an improvement; the last time she had squeaked pitifully before leaving. Perhaps you should have enjoyed the alcohol while you could. If this goes badly, all these nice things, all this luxury will be reassigned, a new name on the door. Such is the way of things -- you know the warnings well.

Until forty-eight hours ago, they had been going so smoothly. An unfamiliar voice at the back of your mind whispers at you. Had you gotten complacent? You never get complacent. You had been warned for star’s sake. Senator Clovis had been all too clear that vaults here on Scipio were being targeted. You had taken that to mean the transports would be targeted as well. Credits were valuable, gold was valuable, as were artifacts and treasures. The Clan stored it all.

But most valuable of all were and would always be secrets.

And secrets...you were very good at secrets. Finding them. Keeping them. Exposing them.

The hand on the glass tightens and through touch or through sound, you sense that just a little more pressure will splinter it. Gently, you lift your fingers.

You’ve got enough messes to clean up already.

…………….

Two of his brothers look unhappy. Hunter suspects he, too, looks unhappy. Only Crosshair remains unaffected, toothpick lolling from one corner of the man’s thin mouth to the other as he watches the sky shift from icy atmo to the very tips of craggy mountains.

“Looks cold,” rumbles Wrecker from his seat, thick legs kicking out miserably. “Nobody said it was gonna be cold.”

From the pilot’s chair, Tech glances at Hunter, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. Now that Hunter can see him full-on, rather than that goggle-obscured side-profile of his, he realizes that he’d been right. Even Tech is unhappy with the assigned locale. Still, the man sniffs and turns back to navigating the gunship.

“It is Scipio,” says Tech.

“What’s that got to do with anything? Just sayin’, a little warning might’ve been nice.”

Crosshair shifts, the movement almost imperceptible, just enough that Hunter knows the sniper is asking for his attention. “I believe Hunter was preoccupied with warning us about the...what was it you called them, Hunter? Denizens?”

“The word does have an apt connotation for the Banking Clan,” Tech mutters. He gives Hunter another look, this one says that he’s no more excited about the prospect than Hunter has been.

Their mission brief had been a strange one. It wasn’t their usual brand of run-and-gun from the sound of things, but it was important to all the right people, and they needed guaranteed success. “Go to Scipio, meet the point of contact, establish the responsible party, recover the stolen data.” It was more or less all they had been told.

Hunter knows his frown is getting deeper, sinking into the lines on his face -- he can feel it pulling at his bandana, and he raises a hand to scrub it away.

“Who is this contact anyway?” asks Crosshair. “You never said.”

“Because I wasn’t told a name. We’re to meet with the, and I quote, ‘Principal Trades Specialist for the InterGalactic Banking Clan.’”

“Trades specialist?” Crosshair plucks his toothpick from between his teeth and for a moment, it takes Hunter longer than he would like to decipher the look on the man’s face. He doesn’t look unhappy...he looks intrigued. Crosshair replaces the toothpick, then says, “Sounds like a fancy way of saying ‘corporate spy.’”

“Head corporate spy,” Tech says, “If he’s - “

“She, from what I’m told,” corrects Hunter. His frown has yet to go anywhere, so he lets it stay, his hand falling to his lap.

Tech nods. “If she is based here on Scipio, we’re dealing with someone who needs to be watched closely. Some important players are based on this planet.”

Crosshair folds his arms. “Did the spy part give it away, Tech?”

“The Banking Clan part, actually,” Tech replies dryly, “We’ve dealt with spies before. The IGBC is something different. It is...new territory.”

“We’ve also dealt with new territory before.” At this, Hunter hears them all shift, their quick heartbeats settling into a familiar, all’s-well rhythm. His, too, follows. Just in time, it would seem, for the comms to squawk at them as the Marauder banks left and begins its final descent to the landing pad. He stands from the co-pilots seat, the faint tilt of the floor beneath him a familiar calm before the inevitable storm. He looks to Wrecker, who shakes his head, and then offers a grin.

“Might be fun. Never clobbered bad guys with snowballs before.”

There’s a snort from Tech and despite himself, Hunter smiles.

**************************************

Ten minutes later, they are suited up and disembarking into a cloud of snow flurries and ice crystals. The Banking Clan’s guards are as heavily armored as some of the Separatist patrols Hunter’s encountered. He scowls beneath his helmet. This should be a job for Jedi -- if the Jedi weren’t all dispatched to the war front.

Soldiers...they don’t deal with these sorts of people. Not well and not effectively. Too much bad blood between the Republic and profiteers like these.

He motions at his brothers to close ranks, their familiar presences a comforting reminder that this isn’t anything new, not really. It’s a mission like any other.

As the frosted cloud clears ahead of them, the guards, in their gilt armor and insulated cloaks, make way, too much way, Hunter thinks, for the clearance to be for a group of Republic troopers.

Then he sees her.

Half camouflaged by the swirling winds and clad in half a dozen shades of gray and silver, her shoulders draped in white fur, she stands waiting for them, her hands clasped serenely in front of her. She could be a diplomat, a Jedi even, if not for the gleam in her eye. It’s a cold thing, sharper and as frostbitten as this frozen world itself.

He’s not the only one to have noticed. Beside him, Hunter hears Crosshair draw in an appreciative breath so quiet no one without incredible senses would notice it. In his periphery, he catches an almost imperceptible twitch of Tech’s helmet as his brother spares him a questioning glance.

When the woman speaks, her voice is crisp, professional. “Clone Force 99, welcome.” She does not smile, but her eyes track to each of them, lingering too long, as though somehow looking past the armor to the men beneath. She introduces herself with a name that sounds too soft for the title she wears. Then, she gives them a crystalline smile. “But you may call me Trader, if you please.”

“Trader?” It is Wrecker who asks the question, finally distracted from the snow and ice. “Sounds like…”

Another smile, this one not quite as cool as the first. Amused, Hunter thinks, though how benign that amusement is, he can’t tell, and it makes his skin itch beneath his blacks. “Like traitor?” she hums. “I suppose it does, doesn’t it?”

She steps aside and gestures at them to follow. “With me, gentlemen. First, we’ve a meeting. Afterwards, we will take a tram to the vaults, then from there, speeders to the site of the incident.”

“‘Incident’ is an awful clean way to say ‘bloody heist,’” says Hunter as he moves to follow. Her gaze slides to him, her stride never slowing. Shoulder to shoulder with the woman, he has the uncomfortable instinct to slow his steps, to lag behind, as though if he isn’t careful, a blade might slide between his ribs on a blink. He pushes aside the urge, then asks, “How many people were lost?”

“Enough,” she replies. “One could even say too many.”

“But not you?”

“Must someone say something for you to believe they think it?”

Behind him, Crosshair snorts, but does not comment. Hunter lets the statement slide, though the itch he’d felt earlier is heating to a burn now. Together, she leads them through a set of gleaming durasteel doors into a foyer as stark as it is grand.

“Proceed through those doors.” She crooks a finger to their left. “Senator Amidala has requested a meeting in...eighteen minutes. I will join you shortly.”

Wrecker whistles, the sound too sharp to come from beneath his helmet, and Hunter glances back to see that the man has removed it, his one good eye roving the pristine interior. With a sigh, Hunter follows suit. It’s not exactly warm here, but out from the planet’s whipping winds, it’s close enough that even he can fool his sensitive skin into enjoying it. Soon, they are all unmasked. The woman - Trader - lingers long enough to observe them.

Her expression is...unreadable. There is no twinkle of bemusement in her eyes, not the first twitch of surprise. Normally, when the helmets come off, it gets at least some sort of reaction, gives him some kind of measure.

Now, the only read Hunter gets is the fact that he can’t get a read on her -- and that, he doesn’t like. There’s no trusting people who have become so numb.

Her gaze slips between Crosshair and Tech, where it lingers on the latter for seconds longer than it had the rest of them. Something in her frigid eyes warms, the ice of her expression cracking just enough that she might be pleased by what she sees. And Tech...for all his usual detachment, has no datapad to bury his nose in now, and he notices.

Hunter thinks the woman lets him notice.

His brother stands a little straighter, eyes flicking nervously to Hunter behind his goggles. Stumped, for lack of a better word. For once, flat out puzzled.

Then, without a word, Trader looks back to Hunter and inclines her head. “Stay warm, gentlemen. I will see you soon.”

She is gone behind a pair of adjacent doors without another word.

No sooner do they watch the durasteel whisper shut, than does Wrecker drive his arm into Tech’s side with a chuckle. Tech winces with a hiss and waves the man away.

“Heh, she likes you.”

“I hoped it was my imagination.” Crosshair’s lip curls, his eyes narrowing until he looks away, and Hunter wonders if they’ve been reflected back at him through the shine of Tech’s goggles.

Tech runs a hand over the back of his head. “What do you think, Hunter?”

“I think she’s Banking Clan, through and through. We’re not among friends here.”

“If we let her alone with Tech, things might get friendlier -”

“Wrecker.”

Hunter scowls. Another voice has echoed his own and he looks to see Crosshair, arms folded, rocking back on a foot to glare at the wampa-sized man.

Tech clears his throat. “Perhaps we should wait in the briefing room?”

His heart rate, harder to hear away from the tight confines of the Marauder, sounds schoolboy quick and Hunter wishes, not for the first time, that his brother was more inclined to find company in their off-duty hours than he was. Pretty faces were fine - Hunter himself was inclined to enjoy them - but something about the mask this one wore was dangerous.

Wrecker’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Did she say Senator Amidala was waiting?”

“She did. The commander warned us the Senate was at play here.”

“That’s not our usual playground though, is it?” Crosshair is still scowling, his arms folded more tightly now than they had been. All that characteristic suspicion exacerbated by annoyance that has set in and won’t leave him. It makes his eyes hard, his narrow features sharpened and cold beneath the glare of sunlight on durasteel.

Hunter shakes his head. “It’s not, but I feel better knowing Amidala’s behind us on this.”

“That makes one of us,” says Crosshair.

“Two,” Tech interrupts, his voice crisp; back to himself, Hunter realizes, his relief warm down to his fingertips, until he isn’t sure why he’d been worried in the first place.

“Three! I like Amidala.”

“We know, Wrecker.” Tech’s smile is gentle, even as he rolls his eyes. “The poster by your bed speaks for itself.”

Hunter’s gaze slides to his remaining brother, the smile that had spread turning crooked, then fading. “Crosshair?”

It’s always been an unsettling characteristic of Crosshair’s that his eyes, as brown as all of theirs, manage to be so very cold when the mood hits him. The look in them is not unlike what he had witnessed in the woman.

The observation tightens Hunter’s throat and he swallows it, turning away, and hopes not to notice it again.

#bad batch #star wars #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #multichapter #part one #the bad batch #bad batch tech #bad batch crosshair #decidedly not proofread #shitty art by me #blame no one else

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