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neonlights92 · 4 years

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RUN: Chapter III

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for. He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants. So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly. And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook. So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos. How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N:ENJOY!!!!

Jungkook shone. He really, really did.

You watched him from across the room - the way he drew people in like a magnet. He was stunning.

You knew he could tell you were watching him. The way his eyes flickered to yours, and the side of his mouth pulled up slightly.

Perhaps he enjoyed the power he had over you. After all, you were his wife. It was only normal that he wanted you to be attracted to him… Wasn’t it?

You couldn’t ponder on that thought. Couldn’t let yourself think about Jungkook wanting you to love him. It was too much - too overwhelming.

You turned from him quickly, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in almost one gulp. You cringed at the unfamiliar taste - and the burn at back of your throat - but you needed a distraction. From your husband, of all people.

Your life really was ridiculous.

“Y/N?”

You turned quickly, snapped out of your reverie by the sound of your name.

Kim Namjoon stared back at you, a small smile on his face.

“Namjoon,” You relaxed a little, lips splitting into a smile of your own, “Hi. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” He gestured at the champagne flute in your hands, “You’re going to snap that.”

You looked down noticing your grip was like a vice and gasped.

“Shit.” You loosened your fingers and blushed, “That would’ve been embarrassing.”

He gave you a sympathetic look, “Tough week?”

You groaned, setting the glass to one side and shaking your head, “Tough month.”

Namjoon and you were fairly close. The two of you had grown up together - along with Nayeon and Jungkook - and you felt you could genuinely trust him. He was the only member of the Special Seven - apart from Jungkook of course - that you felt you had a real friendship with.

Namjoon was different to other made men.

He was intelligent and grounded. He didn’t act on impulse or throw himself into situations he couldn’t handle.

Namjoon was like the centre of gravity that Bangtan desperately needed.

You liked that about him.

“It’s not your doting husband, is it?” He asked, raising a sarcastic brow.

You assumed he knew the truth about your marriage - even down to the fact Jungkook had no romantic feelings towards you. The two of them were close - brothers, really - and you imagined they shared everything with one another.

“It’s not his fault,” You answered, though you weren’t sure you totally believed it, “We were both… Forced into this.”

“But you love him.” The words weren’t questioning - they were a statement. Namjoon always was so intuitive.

“How did you - I mean… What are you talking about?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Anybody with eyes can tell you love him Y/N - that you have loved him for years.”

Something inside you twinged.

It wasn’t that you cared that other people knew. You didn’t. Love wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

It was just…. Well Jungkook knowing that other people knew.

Would he care?

And at this point… Did it even really matter?

“It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel the same way,” You said eventually, deciding it wasn’t even worth it to deny Namjoon’s accusations, “That’s just life.” “Jungkook is an idiot,” Namjoon wrinkled his nose, “He wouldn’t know love or commitment if it whacked him in the fucking face. He’s spent his entire life dropping women’s panties and not sticking around to get to know them. He thinks he’s incapable of anything more.”

You raised a brow, “I think he just doesn’t want anything more.”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon shook his head, “He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“And you do?” You replied, smiling a little at the way Namjoon’s brow furrowed into a frown.

He seemed genuinely annoyed at your husband’s behaviour.

“I know he’s too much of a pussy to even open himself up to the idea of being with you for real,” He shrugged, hands reaching for his pockets, “Even told him so myself.” “Really? And what did he say? I’m sure that went down a treat…”

“Told me to fuck off of course. But what else did I expect from the ever eloquent Jeon Jungkook?” You laughed at that and so did Namjoon, shaking his head at his younger friend’s apparent stupidity, “Honestly. I know Jungkook. And I know that deep down inside, all he really wants is to be loved, Y/N. And I think you could help him realise that.”

His words warmed you down to the tips of your toes.

“You think so?”

When he nodded, you felt something in your chest expand and lighten.

For the first time since you’d found out about your engagement, you felt a little better about things.

If Namjoon thought Jungkook had the capability to come around.. Then maybe things weren’t so bleak.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly, “Thank you. For speaking to me. It really has helped.” “Just being honest,” He shrugged, “Thought you deserved to know my opinion, I guess.”

“You always have been the smartest Bangtan boy.”

A throat cleared from somewhere to your life and you both turned to look, lips lifting unconsciously into a smile at the sight of your husband. But Jungkook wasn’t smiling. In fact, his mouth was pulled taut into a firm line.

And he was… Glaring at Namjoon.

“What are you two talking about?” Jungkook asked, hard eyes turning on you.

You felt a little intimidated by the way his gaze seemed to sear straight through you.

“Just catching up, Jungkookie.” You watched your husband cringe at the nickname that rolled off Namjoon's tongue, “Don’t keep her locked away for so long again.”

“I’ll try not to Joonie.” His eyes were still pitch black, “You ready to go, Y/N? I’m getting tired.”

You arched a brow at his odd behaviour.

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was jealous.

But there was absolutely no way Jungkook would feel jealous or possessive over you… Was there?

“Okay.” You nodded swiftly and turned to Namjoon, “It was nice speaking to you Joon. I hope we can catch up again soon.” His eyes were soft and he smiled, “You can count on that.”

You didn’t even realise Jungkook’s hand had slipped into yours until he was pulling you away from the crowd almost roughly. Namjoon gave you a little wave and a knowing wink, and you shook your head, confused by your husband’s sudden shift in behaviour.

There was no way he was actually jealous, was there?

Not after knowing the way you felt about him.

Not after pushing you away himself and making it clear he wasn’t interested in a real marriage.

No. You shook your head.

He must just be tired, like he’d said.

When the two of you made your way outside, you finally tugged your husband’s hand and forced him to look at you.

“What?” The word was sharp and angry.

You flinched, “Are you… Okay?”

“Just peachy. Enjoyed your little chat with Namjoon?”

You followed him down the marble staircase, towards the garage.

“Wait. Is that why you’re acting like this?” You were speaking to Jungkook’s back - why was he walking so damn fast? - as you struggled to keep up, “Because I was talking to Namjoon?”

Your husband decided not to answer as he grabbed the keys wordlessly from the valet and continued making his way towards the car. You trailed after him, feeling dejected and hurt by his sudden sourly attitude.

What right did he have to be angry at you when all you had been doing was talking to a friend?

“Jungkook!”

His name flew out of you angrily, just as the two of you reached the car.

He froze for a moment, and then turned, eyes hard like two glass balls of obsidian black.

You finally caught up with him, confused and hurt at the way he was treating you. It made absolutely no sense.

“Why are you mad at me?” “I’m not mad.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously you are. I’m not stupid. So why are you mad?” “I’m not mad,” He answered unlocking the car and - despite his apparent fury - opening the passenger door for you, “I just find it sweet that you and Namjoon seem to get on so well.”

He slammed his own car door shut and your fingers twitched as you clicked in your seatbelt.

“You’re being stupid.” He turned to you again, his eyes wide, “Sorry what? This coming from the woman that basically pissed on me in front of Jihyo to mark her territory?” Ok. Now you were mad.

“How the fuck can you even compare the two?” You couldn’t believe how irrational he was being, “She was literally all over you.” “So was Namjoon!”

“Oh my god.” You tugged a hand through your hair, “You’re an idiot.” “I’m an idiot am I? For finding it uncomfortable that my wife and my best friend spent the evening flirting right in front of me?” “Why do you even care?” Your eyes were watering with angry tears but you bit them back, “You made it very clear that you aren’t interested in making this marriage work the way I want it to. So what does it matter if I flirt with Namjoon?” You knew maybe your words weren’t the wisest. Perhaps you should’ve assured him that the reality was all you’d spoken to Namjoon about was how much you loved your oblivious husband.

But he’d hurt you. You sort of wanted to hurt him back.

“Right,” He seethed, “So it’s not alright for me to have an affair, but totally fine for you to?”

Your heart clenched.

“Oh my god. Oh MY GOD. Jungkook what the fuck? We were talking about you for god’s sake. Okay?!” You pinched the bridge of your nose and felt the tears catch on the edge of your fingers, “What the hell? Why would I ever cheat on you? Not only am I completely in love with you but Namjoon is your best friend! Jesus.”

The words were like lava spilling from your mouth, hardening everything they touched.

You couldn’t take it back. It was all out there in the open.

Completely in love with you, you’d said.

Shit.

You squeezed your eyes shut, counting to ten. Waiting for something. Anything.

After a moment, your husband cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Your pulse jumped.

“What?” You opened your eyes and when you looked at Jungkook, he was already regarding you with something… Different. It wasn’t the same affection he usually regarded you with. It was… Deeper. You didn’t know what it was.

But it sort of scared you. In a good way.

“I said I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.” He shook his head and tugged a hand through his hair, “I was...Jealous.”

The word fell like a stone between the two of you.

“What?” Your voice was like the wind, almost, “Why would you be jealous?” He smiled - small and gently - and shrugged, “You’re my wife. That means something, doesn’t it? So I don’t - I wasn’t thinking straight. I reacted badly. Forgive me.”

Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

“So it was a possessive thing,” You answered, licking your bottom lip. Your husband’s eyes flickered to your mouth, “You wanted to stake your claim on me.”

He shook his head, “No. It was more than that.” He clicked his tongue, “I was jealous that you weren’t with me. He made you laugh. I hated that.”

Now you were sure you must be dreaming.

There was no way your husband was saying these things.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, “What does that mean?” He shook his head, eyes searching your face before they fell on your mouth again.

“I don’t know.”

He leaned in slightly and you held your breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whispered - nerves wracking through your body hotly.

It felt like the world stood still for a moment. And then Jungkook’s eyes softened like butter. “Yeah. I am. If that’s okay?”

You nodded stiffly. And then he kissed you.

Your body hummed to life at the contact eyes falling closed immediately as you allowed your husband to bundle you up in his arms. It was uncomfortable of course - cramped in the front seat of the car - but Junkook picked you up and pulled you towards him, anyway.

You giggled as your dress caught on the gear shift, and your husband laughed, pressing his forward to yours, settling you into his lap.

“You look beautiful,” He told you honestly, eyes earnest, “Did I tell you that already?” You shook your head - breathless and hot all over.

Jungkook - your Jungkook - was kissing you.

He was kissing you. And he seemed to be really enjoying himself.

“Well you do,” He said decidedly, pressing his lips to your collarbone as he pushed the strap of your dress further down your arm, “You look beautiful.” Your heart caught in your chest, and it felt almost like you were on fire.

Everything Jungkook’s lips touched tingled, and even though you knew this was actually happening, it still felt like some kind of vivid dream.

“Thank you,” You whispered breathlessly, not knowing what else to say.

Jungkook smiled softly at your words, his mouth moving towards your collarbone and pressing kisses against the skin there.

“I love these freckles,” He groaned, tracing the dots with the tip of his nose, “So cute.” Your heart flipped and you sighed, “Thank you.”

He pulled away a little and pressed his forward to yours, chuckling softly.

“That’s all you have to say?”

You felt dazed as you stared back at him, “Huh?”

“Thank you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your brow, “It’s all you have to say, it seems.”

“I’m a little…” You cleared your throat and felt a shiver crawl up your spine as Jungkook tucked some hair behind your ear, “Lost for words.”

Your husband smiled - self-satisfied and a little proud, “C’mere.”

He leaned towards you and once again you were swept up by his kisses. It felt as though you were spinning out of axis - but it was so good. Nothing had ever come close to this and you told yourself that if this was it - if this was the only time Jungkook was going to kiss you - then you were going to make it count.

You brought your shaky hands up to his chest, intending to push his jacket off his shoulders, but losing your nerve along the way. Instead you tightened your grip on the material of his blazer. You felt him smirk against your lips.

“Want me to take it off?” He asked, after a moment, pulling away so he could search your face for an answer.

You expected him to be cocky - smug - but instead his gaze was just questioning. Your heart twisted.

“Yeah,” You nodded furiously, “Please.”

He smiled again, and did as you’d told him to, removing the jacket and throwing it somewhere to your left. You continued kissing him with fervor - making up for your lack of experience with enthusiasm - and after a while you felt his lips venture towards your throat…

And then lower to the valley of your breasts.

And - for some reason unbeknownst to you - you froze.

Jungkook took that as a cue to stop and pulled away, a dark brow arched.

“Sorry.” His hair was all out of place, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I liked it.” You assured him, feeling your heartbeat pulling out of your chest, “I just… This is my first time doing anything like…. This.”

“Right.” He still seemed unconvinced.

“But I’m enjoying myself. I was enjoying myself. All of it.”

Jungkook’s eyes were warmer than you’d ever seen them. He pushed your hair out of your face and bit his bottom lip.

“We should probably stop anyway.”

Your heart fell.

“Oh.”

“We’re in the front seat of a car - anybody could walk by,” He added on, eyes following your expression carefully, “Not exactly a good idea.”

“Okay,” You nodded, suddenly realising the position you were in.

Jungkook had pushed the straps of your dress down your arm - exposing more of your cleavage than you probably were comfortable showing in public - your hair was a mess, your lips were puffy and your make up was probably all smudged.

You made to climb off your husband’s lap, before Jungkook grabbed the back of your head gently. He forced you to look at him.

“I was enjoying myself, too. For the record.”

And then he kissed you again, once, soundly - on the mouth.

God.

You really did love him.

The days after your tryst in the car were filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook had driven the both of you home in almost complete silence - save for the murmuring of the radio - and when you climbed into bed that night, the only thing he offered you was an arm to cuddle into.

You’d taken it of course - gladly - and every night since then the two of you moved towards one another as soon as the bedside lamp clicked off.

But it wasn’t enough for you.

And apart from night time snuggling - nothing much had changed about your relationship.

But after having felt Jungkook’s lips on your own - felt the way his kisses seared straight through you - you wanted that feeling again. And despite what he’d said about enjoying himself… You wondered if maybe that was just to spare your feelings.

Perhaps he’d realised all at once how little he was attracted to you.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t made a move since.

The thought caused your throat to clog up, and your heart to clench, so you pushed it all back down, trying not to think about it.

Instead you found another pet project - this one a pair of dark blue jeans that Jungkook had ripped a hole through. You’d heard him complaining to his butler, Minhyuk, about how they were his favourite pair, and you wanted to fix them for him.

You sat in the same armchair you always did - tucked into the corner of the master bedroom - and listened to the radio mumbling gently in the background. It was some stupid cheesy love song, but still the lyrics caused the same feelings you tried so very hard to push back down, to bubble up.

A figure in the doorway paused your actions and you looked up.

It was your husband. His eyes were unreadable.

“Jungkook,” You smiled softly, “Hi.”

You couldn’t hide your content at seeing him - could never hide how happy he made you - and you resigned yourself to stop trying.

He didn’t say a word. Instead he walked over to you carefully and fingered the material of the jeans.

“Oh.” You laughed gently, “I just heard you talking about them the other day. Thought I could pull my weight around here.”

Your movements had stopped, but Jungkook’s big hand came to rest over your own.

He bent down so that his face was level with yours.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His eyes were like two balls of fire now, melting you from the inside out.

You felt your bottom lip tremble, “I know.”

And then his mouth was on yours. He took the jeans out of your hand and set them to one side, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

You giggled a little, and when Jungkook pulled away to watch you laugh, he couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

“You’re so…” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead leading you over to the bed and laying you down.

His eyes were questioning as he played with the hem of your t-shirt, and without a second thought you lifted your arms, letting him pull it over your head. It was embarrassing of course.

The first time Jungkook would see you in underwear and you were wearing the most unflattering beige bra. But he didn’t seem to mind.

He helped you unhook the bra, and when your hands came to cover your breasts, he stopped you.

“Let me see them. Please.” His eyes were hot and you felt like you were suffocating almost.

You nodded wordlessly and pulled your arms down, watching as Jungkook took in your naked torso.

“Fuck. So beautiful.” He whispered, leaning down and pressing his mouth against your breasts.

You arched against him, feeling as though you were going to explode just from that one touch, and Jungkook smiled, “So sensitive, too.”

His lips moved to your nipple, and he sucked gently, watching you attentively. His body was completely taut - waiting for your reactions - and when you moaned wantonly he smirked.

“Fuck,” You whispered and your husband clicked his tongue teasingly.

“Such profanity.” He smirked and tugged your trousers down slowly, “Guess we’ll have to clean your mouth out with soap, Angel.” The nickname was like a surge of warmth, straight to your core. He’d barely touched you and already you were panting like you could no longer take it.

“Please Jungkook,” You begged, not even knowing what you were begging for, “Please.” “Alright, shhh, shhh. I’ll give you what you want baby,” His lips played with the hem of your panties, and after a moment he pulled those down too, “C’mere.” And then his mouth was on you and it felt like time itself had stood still. You arched your back almost completely off the bed - and if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s steadying hands on your thighs you might have melted to the ground right then.

He licked at you diligently, and you found yourself winding tighter and tighter like a coil about to break from the pressure.

“Oh god… Oh god…”

His eyes bore straight through yours, and you felt like you might pass out from the intensity.

“That’s it,” He whispered, removing his mouth and using his hands instead, “Cum for me Angel.”

And finally, a wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you. It was so strong you thought you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

Jungkook coaxed you through your climax, and when you finally came down from your high - your bones like jelly - he climbed up your body and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“A thank you,” He smiled boyishly, “For the jeans.”

Your eyes were round and wide as you stared up at him, “But don’t you want-”

“Nope. Don’t need it.”

Jungkook pulled you under the covers, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you towards his chest.

“But Jungkook-”

“Sleep Angel.” A soft kiss was pressed to your forehead, “We’ve got plenty of time for everything else.”

And in that heart-wrenching moment you realised that Jeon Jungkook not only owned your heart - he owned your body, mind and soul too.

“Okay,” You whispered, pressing a kiss against the firm plane of his chest, “Goodnight.”

That night, you slept like a baby.

#jeon jungkook #bts #kookie #jungkook #fanfic #smut #angst #fluff #mafia au #alternatue universe #romance #fanfiction #bangtan #arranged marriage #one sided love #unreciprocated love

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bondsmagii · 3 years

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Chris Chan has got to be one of the most documented people in the internet. I can't imagine having almost every detail of my life for the whole world to see even though I haven't done horrible things like Chris has

god I know right. the idea of everything being that documented... it's honestly eerie as hell. no matter what Chris Chan does or tries, it's all being watched and documented and analysed and man. to think she could have avoided all this if she had just unplugged the internet in like, 2007.

right now I'm still in the early stages, like 17 videos in or so. at the moment I just feel desperately sorry for her. I'm not sure what fucked up shit she might do going forward, and of course I know about the incest charges which is yikes all on its own, but at the moment I can't help but feel desperately sorry for her. like, it's funny in a car crash way, but it's also really not funny at all. right now she's just this autistic young adult living with two abusive parents, who's being harassed by dozens of people online. because of her autism she's incapable of being able to identify trolls until it's far too late, and then more trolls befriend her and she falls for the exact same tricks again because she's inherently too trusting and can't tell when people are being sarcastic or when they're actually ridiculing her. at the moment her closest friend is a girl named Kacey, who's trying to give Chris "advice" to better her life, and on the surface it's all solid advice -- get a job, exercise more, eat healthier, etc -- but it's all designed to set Chris up for more ridicule, and no matter what progress Chris reports, Kacey twists it and uses it to ridicule her and trash her confidence. earlier on I listened to a phone call recording where Chris's mother was caught berating Chris and emotionally manipulating her in the background, and when Chris got back on the line to Kacey, Kacey took Chris's mother's side and started also berating Chris for the same thing. it's honestly so fucked up -- like underneath all the inherent hilarity that comes from a situation so fucking weird, it's impossible to ignore the fact that this is an account of the long-term emotional abuse of a deeply vulnerable adult. whatever Chris might have done in the future, I firmly believe that there's a strong case to be made for the fact she was driven to this point. the constant trolling and the fact that she cannot trust anybody in her life to be who they say they are has created a deep rift between Chris and reality, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's been driven to honest to god clinical psychosis because of all the stress and torment.

if it had just been brief -- a spate of the earlier trolling at the beginning, where they teased her a bit about Sonichu and convinced her she was in a chat with Billy Mays or whatever, that would have been fine. everyone was getting trolled like that back in the day. but at some point it veered away from trolling and went into literal torture. like, I'm going to go under the cut here because this got suddenly serious on an ask that's pretty casual (sorry about that), but it's been bothering me since I saw it and I have to mention it now. sincere warning for anyone reading my Chris Chan documentary chronicles just for the lighter parts, because in my mind what I'm about to discuss is literal, actual torture of a disabled person.

the other day I watched the video where the trolls hacked into Chris's PlayStation account, which had a lot of games and progress she was obviously proud of. being autistic, she's obviously much more attached than these trolls can appreciate -- video games are clearly one of her special interests, and she understandably gets very distressed when the trolls threaten to sell the account. there's a whole bunch of convoluted stuff that happens, but the main event is that they use the leverage of the account to get Chris into doing shit to "win" it back. they end up making her cut her Sonichu medallion (a comfort item that she wears constantly) into four pieces, and stick the pieces up her ass. on video.

the video isn't shown on YouTube, obviously, but the audio is. in it, the trolls can be heard urging her on, insisting she stick it properly up there ("until I can't see it anymore", is how one of them put it). also captured on the audio is Chris, making sounds of pain and also apparently crying, which she is then ridiculed for.

I mean. I was genuinely disturbed by this, as I'm sure most people with even a smidgen of a conscience would be. this is sexual abuse. this is torture. this is not trolling, this is not doing something "for the lulz". this is a small group of genuine psychopaths banding together long after the regular trolling is done, to torture a person who is incapable of defending herself and who has no responsible adult in her life to protect her from people like this. this shit, when compared to legitimate harmless trolling like Liquid Chris, who winds Chris up but never actively harms her (at least to what I've seen so far) and is so ridiculous that everybody can see through it (even Chris herself, who knows that Liquid Chris is a faker and isn't being deceived by Liquid Chris in any way), is night and day. Liquid Chris is genuine trolling, the kind that aims to get you mad and then goes no further. what these other people are doing is abuse and torture. they're clearly a core group of individuals who realised they had an easy target and decided to take advantage of it, and they're all honest to god sociopaths. they should face charges for this shit.

I apologise for getting serious on this post, but I need to be honest here. as much as I'm enjoying the drama and the more ridiculous and admittedly hilarious bits of this story, between all the tamer pieces of legitimate trolling is a serious case of ableism. vulnerable adults like Chris are abused like this every day, and the fact that this can be so well-documented online and still nobody did anything to help her is absolutely astounding. because Chris is "cringe", everybody seemed to collectively decide that she deserved this treatment, when really at the end of the day she began as an autistic teenager who was super passionate about her OC and wanted to upload comics about him online. like. that was her only crime, and it ended like this.

just... god damn.

#anon #asks #chriscourse

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jesslockwood · 4 years

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olive | chapter one

pairing: actor!Tom Holland x actor!reader

words: 3.5k ish

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and smut (in between the ***)

a/n: special thanks for @stuckonspidey for helping me not only start a kinda guideline for this story, but go over the beginning of this chapter, go check out Lilly’s works!

I also am taking name suggestions for one of the characters (little miss diva celebrity personal) as im horrid at coming up with names and also want to involve you! (That’s why she don’t have a name in this yet lol) so send me an ask with your suggestions!

series masterlist

You couldn’t believe it. How could it even be comprehended of what was going on when it felt like a dream?

bro, you’re living every Instagram jealous fangirl’s dream right now…

Man, you couldn’t even imagine the backlash you’d be getting after this once everyone knew.

Let’s hope they never find out.

Maybe this whole ordeal should be explained...

You had been at an after-party for the first big movie you did, well it was a featuring role, that the character literally had a sex scene with Sebastian Stan- yeah you know what you’re thinking, he’s a literal Greek god heaven-sent being- we all know.

Anyways me being me found him way too unattainable- God all those marvel actors and actresses were-, especially after the mishap of seeing his butt naked self before the scene, and him telling you it was fine because you were like his “little sister”. Either way, he was a no go, and you kinda wanted to find someone to take home. you hadn’t been laid in a while, and after seeing Sebastian naked you kinda needed relief.

you were looking for someone more in your league scanning the room, until Seb decided to bombard you at the bar, with probably another one of his actor friends he wanted to introduce you to.

Yeah, heh… I know how this sounds, but you two actually became pretty close on set, as the lead to his opposite, was a total snob, and Seb couldn’t stand her so you’d do a spot-on impression of her while roasting her, and Seb and you got along pretty well because of that. You’re probably questioning: why Seb? Of all people why would a famous person like him get along with a weirdo like me?

Boy, do I look like I know?

in all your years it would still probably be a mystery till you died.

Throughout the night Seb had been introducing you to all his friends and helping you “network” even though they all knew you sucked. That still didn’t stop you from having a small heart attack every time it was an actor you admire.

This time maybe was a little different because you had downed some drinks, and was a little more… bodacious? That’s probably the worst description you could come up with but it is what it is... anyways it was the only way you could get through the night without completely dying of being in front of literal heaven-sent beings.

“Hey Y/n! you’d like you to meet one of my pals!” Sebastian yelled over the music, cutting through people to get to me.

you were sitting at the bar just getting another martini with olives. Before taking a sip you saw him. Holy guacamole! He was definitely out of your league, but alas, he was trailing Sebastian, coming over to you, with you almost doing a spit take. you knew who he was, but man, was he ever hotter in person! pictures did not do his beauty justice.

“Hey, Sebby, who’s the next victim you’re introducing to moi?” you ask, stirring your drink with the olives.

Seb shook his head at you, with a smirk on his face

“This is Tom, and Tom this is the infamous Y/n.” you definitely rolled your eyes at that one.

“It’s a Pleasure.” He says all gentleman-like.

Just as Sebastian is about to speak, none other than the stuck up lead of the movie calls over to him.

“Sebastian, they're taking group photos of the main character’s with Drake Doremus, our director.”

You could tell Sebastian refrained from rolling his eyes at the way she was smirking at you.

“Sorry Tom! Y/n and I have to go-”

“Uh, Sebastian, they want the main cast. No extras.” she snarkily snaps.

“She’s not an extra she’s a featuring role and y/n-”

“I’m fine here entertaining Tom. Besides I’m all photoed out.” you cut him off quickly trying to deescalate the situation before Seb snapped on her causing a scene for all the hungry photographers to eat up.

“See? She doesn’t want to get in the way of our spotlight. I’ll meet you over there.” she blows a kiss at Sebastian and walks over to our director.

“Are you sure about this y/n? Because you know Drake would be fine with it, and she has no say over it anyways and-”

“I’m fine, and anyways, it would be rude to leave your friend here when you just introduced us.” you comforted giving the most genuine smile you can.

He dramatically sighs, raising his arms in surrender, “Well if she ends up in the pool, it’s not my fault.”

You laugh and wave him off before turning your attention to the arachnid superhero sitting beside you now at the bar. You sit in silence for a bit, admiring his freckles and eyes before speaking up.

“I’m sorry about all of that she can sometimes be such a-”

“-Bitch?”

“I was going to say Diva but that works too” you giggle as he starts to laugh with you.

“So Mister Spider-man, what made you come over here to be introduced to me?”

“I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t know anything about you till today, and seeing you act in this movie, I really am a fan of yours. Your acting ability in just this one movie blew me away!” He says intently, gazing into my eyes.

“You’re just saying that because I have a sex scene in the movie. It’s also probably just because of Sebastian’s acting. Or maybe you were turned on. ” you joke winking at him as you turn towards the bar, almost finishing your drink for the second time

He laughs, with a sly smirk on his face, “maybe.”

Before you can respond Sebastian interrupts.

“Hey, sorry I took so long, Miss Diva needed her ‘best angles’”

You internally groan. You just got cock blocked by the one you wanted before this whole ordeal.

“Well, I think I’m going to head out. We’re still on for breakfast tomorrow right?” Tom says, getting up abruptly.

“Yeah, Unless Y/n wants to bail on breakfast then we're still on, Then golf which Y/n will definitely bail on.” Sebastian jokes.

You were almost speechless, Seb said you’d meet some of his closest friends at the big brunch tomorrow. At least you’d be seeing him tomorrow. Maybe Sebastian set this all up? Either way, you weren’t turning down the opportunity.

“Well, uh I better get back to my hotel as well. We need to get up bright and early, and you know I need my sleep.” you mention, before downing the rest of your drink- very unladylike- and popping the olives into your mouth cringing a bit while eating them.

You hated olives, but it felt like such a waste to not eat them. You may have been in ‘high society’ but you still knew how rude it would have been, at least in your head it was.

“Party poopers. I’m gonna go say my goodbyes. Don’t wait for me.” Sebastian turns away going towards a group of his friends.

“I have a car coming, I can drop you off?”

“Oh, uh- are you sure? I don’t want to be a burde-”

“You’re not at all! Great company so far if you ask me,” he comments so… gentleman like.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, and Once you got up and going, with Tom trailing behind you, you had to dodge a couple of waiters, apologizing every time, before really bumping into a waiter, who accidentally pushes Miss Diva, who wobbles before falling into the pool.

You stand there in shock almost watching as she, in slow motion falls into the pool, screaming on the way down.

As soon as she emerges, she looks dead eyes at you, with looks that could literally, and probably would kill you.

Everyone falls silent before Sebastian, from across the pool breaks out into a fit of laughter and yells for you to “run”. Everyone who worked in the film and even the waiter starts to laugh along. Drake, your director takes out his phone before snapping a few photos.

“AH! I‘m gonna kill you Y/n!” she screams at you before trying to swim to the ladder of the pool.

“Here,” Tom says before handing a hefty tip to the waiter before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the exit, “C’mon Y/n!”

The only thing that ran through your mind was “Holy shit. I’m dead now.”

Tom kept dragging you, to the entrance, through the paparazzi, and into the car, which mind you, the car was really nice, almost tumbling onto him.

“I’m a dead man now” you chanted a couple of times, before Tom started laughing really obnoxiously.

“Dude! You think me being six feet under is funny?!” ,You try not to giggle along to the now almost intoxicating sound, before hearing a pinging of his phone.

“Y/n, you’ll be trending for being Hollywood's hero!” He says before checking his device, “Trust me when I say she has no fanbase, at least won’t after this video Sebastian just sent me.”

“What?” you say stunned, before Tom shows you the video.

“That Fucking Bitch Y/n! You All saw that?! Y/n pushed me in purposely! She’s only out to get me, the talent of the movie! Talentless little bit-”

Sebastain cuts in the video “Yeah we’ve all heard it, you think you’re so much better than Y/n, Blah, Blah, Blah! You’ve treated her like shit from day one, and all she’s ever been was kind to you! I think karma is finally getting to you!”

Then your director steps in, “Well, I have news, we’re doing another movie, but in this time, Y/n has been bumped to lead role! I’m not so sure where your contract lies anymore though... Maybe it's just floating around in the water like your louboutins!”

Everyone cheers in applause in the video, chanting your name before it ends.

“What?! No, no, no! I don't deserve this because of a faulty point! She doesn't deserve this either! I know she's mean but to steal away from her talent and for someone to post that video?! She doesn't deserve that!”

You started to freak out. Not only would she murder you if she had the chance, but no one deserved, not even she deserved the worst of what was going to come from the backlash from that video.

“Please tell me no one posted it!” you ask frantically.

“No, not yet, I’ll tell Seb not to, but I don’t think he can stop all the people who videotaped it.” He almost cringes, looking guilty.

“It’s fine I’ll just tweet something in the morning.” you sigh covering your face before telling tom where your hotel was.

It was almost upsetting, you felt like a second choice because of a bad apple in the batch, and you were the next.

“Hey Y/n? I know we don’t know each other well, but even though she might be booted down, or even off the next movie, your talent is real, and it doesn't take away from what you can do. From what I got from you already is that you're beautiful inside and out, as cheesy as it sounds.”

What the fuck. He was a fucking sweetheart. Let’s hope the fucking part litterally.

“Thanks Tom.”

You sit in an almost comfortable silence, all the way till you get to your hotel.

Once stepping out, Tom speaks up “Goodnight Y/n.”

“Dream of me Tom.” you wink before heading up to think of the game plan for tomorrow.

Once you got into bed, you couldn’t help but think of him.

Why did he have to be so nice? Like god, did sweet guys ever make you horny.

Oh shit. Tom Freaking Holland made you this way.

Lets just say, you really did dream of him, probably because you thought of him while- well you know before falling asleep.

***

“Tommy!” you moaned loudly, as he went down on you, licking stripes from the base of your pussy to your clit.

He moaned onto your sensitive clit, sending vibrations all the way up your body, and especially to your core.

You could feel yourself getting close. His iron (man™️) grip on your thighs had you wishing it would never end and then-

***

Your obnoxious ringtone you had for Sebastian went off abruptly waking you up. You had set it to a fucked up sounding avengers theme song.

“What the Fu-”

“Y/n uh, apparently there's a shit ton of paparazzi at your hotel right now… do you still want to go to the brunch?

You pause, “What? The Fuck?” you continue to look outside your window and sure enough, there's a hoard of them outside.

Greaaaaaat…

You really weren't sure about going, until you got a call from an unknown number.

“Uh I’m getting another call gimme a sec-” you end the call with seb before answering the mystery person.

“Hey Y/n it’s me, Tom, Im uh almost in the back alley of your hotel waiting for you, I mean, only if you want to come, you were on my way anyways so i thought-”

“Hey Tom,uh yeah- okay, I’ll be down in twenty?” You say rushing around trying to find your suitcase.

“Okay, I’ll uh, tell Seb we’re coming soon”

Tom hangs up after you say goodbye, and couldn't help the grin that reached his face being almost smacked back into reality by his brother, Harry and best friend, Harrison, goofing off.

“You div! You almost ruined my hair!” Harrison whines, as Harry rolls his eyes.

You, on the other hand, were rushing around taking a Guinness world record shower, before drying your hair, putting on minimal face shit, because thanks to Tom you didn't have time, and putting on an outfit that made you feel super cute and ready for golfing, well, watching it.

You weren’t much of a sport player, minus the competitive side that came out as soon as anyone challenged you. Then suddenly, you were an allstar (by smash mouth p.s fuck smash mouth) at whatever came your way.

Lets just hope you had this in the bag if someone challenged you.

Your phone buzzed and you jumped, before quickly answering the texts you had gotten.

‘Are you coming?’

‘Yes seb im coming soon ;)’

‘Hey y/n it’s tom were here when your ready :)’

‘Wrong “you’re” but im coming lol ;)’

As you made your way down, Tom kept fiddling in his seat, trying to relax yet impress you. He just had to get over her, and you were the perfect solution for that. He didn't want to use you or anything, just have some casual fun that will help him move on.

As soon as you come into sight, of course looking both ways of the alley because who knows who's lurking, or going to hit you like Regina George, Tom couldn't help but almost drool in admiring you. You had your gorgeous legs on display, almost gleaming in the sunlight starting to peek through the alley, and your hair, looking almost effortless in your hairstyle, that took you like, five minutes to do.

As soon as you got into the car, Tom was snapped out of his daze, quickly trying to catch himself before being caught.

“Hey Y/n! You remember Harry? And this is Harrison. Harrison, Y/n-”

“Y/n I’m a really big fan! Maybe not as big as Tom’s di-”

“Mate! Shut up!” Harry jabs Harrison in the side. You couldn't help but laugh at the interaction.

“Y/n i’m sorry about these divs.” he glares at them red in the face which makes you laugh even harder.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it from my catty family.”

“Oi! We’re not catty!” Harry says before Harrison gives him a wet willy in the ear.

“Haz!-”

And that's when you started to block out their fighting to focus on Tom.

“So uh, how many people will be at this? Sebastian totally didn't tell me for legal purposes of marvel-people-are-coming-so-don’t-tell-y/n-or-else-she’ll-freak-out.” You joke before earning a snort from Tom.

“Uh well, if you really want to know, the people I know are coming are Anthony Mackie, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson- you should close your mouth love, don't want any flies in there.”

You couldn't help but have your jaw slacked, and mouth hanging open. These were people you only had ever dreamed of meeting. You had to focus on what you wanted though. Tom was the priority, but damn were you going to freak out on the inside.

“That’s not the only thing you’re worried about going into my mouth? Right?” You joke, definitely meaning a sexual innuendo, but with a cover-up.

Now Tom’s the one with the open mouth.

“Damn bro!”

“Oh my God!”

A chorus of reactions come through from Harrison and Harry, only leading you to say,

“Well? Don’t you have a frog in yours?”

He tries to brush it off with laughter, though you could see his red face. He only hoped he didn’t have an even more noticeable way of telling he was turned on by that.

As the driver stopped, you realized you were at the restaurant, and man, was it ever a fancy and probably extorting you of all your life savings one too.

Tom almost rushed out of that vehicle, getting hotter than he should have been with the air conditioner blasting, if you were to ask, he’d blame it on the weather (we all know it’s not the weather).

You got out next, covering your face with your hand to block out some of the sun, and crossed your arm over to hold it steady, which may or may not have slightly squished your boobs together, making Tom’s mouth salivate. Man, was he ever screwed today, maybe literally as well.

As soon as he hurried into the restaurant, with you following closely behind, dogging more paparazzi, Tom goes to the front and asks where “Mr. Stan's table” is directed at the hostess. As soon as she saw Tom she looked behind to see you, which she definitely recognized the both of you, and that was pretty surprising, as you've never been recognized, other than hanging out with Sebastian, due to the movie.

“Right this way sir.” the hostess says professionally, leading you to your demise.

You were holding your breath. There were so many of them, all at once that you admired, it was going to be a difficult task. You could barely handle meeting sebastian stan, but all of your favorite celebs at once?

oof

Once you got to the table hidden away in the corner, everyone said a chorus of greetings to Tom and friends and you.

You swallowed hard, only mustering out a small wave, before Tom pulled out a chair for you, (his momma taught him to be a gentleman) and you slid in whispering a small thank you.

Tom sat beside you to your left, with Harrison and Harry on your right. Sebastian was sitting right across from you, alongside Anthony Mackie, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, Chris Hemsworth, and Elizabeth Olsen surrounding the rest of the table.

“Hey everyone, so this is infamous Y/n, as you've probably seen the film or, the viral video, either way, this is her.”

“Hey! Y/n Seb here has told us so many stories about you, it’s like we already know you! You're a fan right? So who’s your favorite?”

You try to get words out but they don't seem to come. Tom notices and barges into the conversation, “It’s obviously spider-man, ‘cause i'm so her type.” Tom mentions, in a cocky yet sarcastic tone, which started a spark for you to say something.

“And apparently I'm sitting beside a div? If that's the right word you use for a blubbering idiot.” you retort, re-using the words of his own. That got you a bunch of responses of “burns” “ohs!” and laughter.

It was almost as if the tips of Tom's ears were red in embarrassment with him still laughing along. You couldn't help but laugh as well at the sight.

During the rest of the course of breakfast, you had actually been vocal and had become quite fond of the people you now could say you knew, in one brunch. You especially loved the banter between Anthony, Seb and Tom, whereas you talked mostly to Scarlett and Lizzie, as she told you to call her, and Jeremy about projects they had done, and were looking for in their next ones.

Soon you had all had finished breakfast and had gotten the checks, with your eyes almost bulging out of your head at the price.

Tom whispered into your ear, “I’ll pay, don't want your kidneys sold for this meal. Besides, I have to beat Seb in some way today.” he winks at you.

Your face feels slightly warm.

Why did he have to be so nice?

“Well we should go to the course now everyone, I know Y/n’s out of playing so she can go to the pool, cause she apparently sucks at golf even though she's never tried it.” Sebastian taunts you.

“Oh screw you Seb, I can totally do it, maybe, probably not but i'll try-”

“It’s nice to see some A list actors eat here too.”

oh shit. It was her.

#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #arvin russell #peter parker #spiderman #spider-man #arvin russell smut #arvin russell fic #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #olive

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seodami · 4 years

Text

Our story | LSM

Part 2

This is our story. From the day we met till the day we part. Black on white, our most precious moments, never leaving us. I love your forever.

LSM

Genre: Fluffffff

Warnings: none

Word count: 2271

Pairing: Idol!Lee Seokmin x fashion student reader

Note: Here is the second part and I have to say I really enjoyed writing this, imagining how easy and funny it must be to talk to DK :)) what would I do to talk to him once :’) Enjoy!

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Our story Masterlist | MASTERLIST

You both were frozen in your tracks for a moment, you still panicking about what to say or do and him wondering why there was a stranger in his kitchen.

Seokmin hadn’t been feeling well since yesterday evening so since he was feeling even worse this morning, Seungcheol and his manager wanted him both to stay home for at least today until he felt better. He wasn’t exactly keen on staying in an empty apartment alone all day, especially when he wanted to be a part of their schedule. It often made him feel lonely and miss his members. It was stupid honestly, he thought. He saw them everyday and often needed his alone time at times, but he still felt so empty without anyone around.

He was still sleeping when he faintly heard the doorbell ring. Yet he thought it was just in his dream. But when he soon later slowly woke up due to noices from the kitchen, Seokmin wondered if their aunty might have come and would make him a warm soup for his sore throat.

So with still messy hair and puffy face, he made his way over to the kitchen with tiny steps, just to be greeted by a strange face of a girl he never saw.

“O-oh my god. I’m so sorry. I thought no one was home?” You stuttered out totally embarrassed to actually be caught. That was your doom day. Dokyeom found the rambling rather endearing, yet he cautiously made his way over to the kitchen aisle, you were working on.

It took you by huge surprise how handsome and cute this man could look at the same time. Were all idols this pretty?

“Uhm... hi... I don’t want to sound rude but I really... have no idea who you are.” The boy a few feet away from you came to an halt. His voice was a tad hoarse and he sounded a bit sick. He let out a shy chuckle, clearly feeling somewhat uncomfortable in this situation.

Little did you know, the little voice in his head was laughing at him how ridiculous and ugly he must’ve looked with his bare face right after bed. Seokmin had always had his insecurities about his body or face. He never seemed to fully like the way he looked. He would cringe so much looking back at his old childhood pictures, when he had a few pounds too much on him. It just never dawned him how his fans would call him handsome. Most of the times he would just smile and thank them but never really accepting their compliments, thinking it must be the good make up or the stylish hair. Yes, that must be it.

And now standing in front of a pretty woman, he felt it in every fibre of his body and it made him unbelievably uncomfortable.

“Oh... Right... I am Oh Jangmi’s daughter. Nice to meet you.” You quickly muttered, not daring to look him in his eyes for more than a second. You bowed as you typically did, seeing him bow as well.

“Oh aunties daughter? She told us a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Dokyeom.” His uncomfortable face was immediately replaced by the brightest smile, you had ever seen. You swear, in that moment, your heart melted in an instant. You heard your heart beating loudly in your ears, unable to grasp this mans beauty. Never ever have you seen such a dazzling smile in person.

“Is aunty not coming today?” He asked curiously leaning against the other side of the aisle. He was way too close for your liking. And you were definitely still panicking. This man was more than gorgeous.

You shook your head, noticing his hoarse voice. “No unfortunately s-she broke her foot on the way here and went to the hospital. So she... asked me to step in for her. She will be coming tomorrow again though.” You completed your sentence while only taking short glances at the male in front of you, who was giving you 100% of his attention. You were more than flustered.

A worried expression replaced his smile. “Oh no... is she alright?” Your heart made a small jump.

You nodded with a small smile, fiddling with potato in your hand. He noticed and hummed. “Do you need help cooking? I mean... I’m not the best but I can chop vegetables without chopping my fingers off I guess.” He smiled at you once more. If he would keep smiling like that, you swear, you wouldn’t be able to see tomorrow.

You let out a small giggle, still denying his offer. “Ah no... it’s fine really. I’m just making jajangmyeon. And you sound like you’ve caught a cold so I won’t be bothering you with doing anything.”

You quickly placed the potato in your hand on the cutting board and started slicing it into small cubes.

“Yeah I actually did. It’s not really pleasant to be honest.” Dokyeom said before caughting in his elbow as on queue.

“Wait a second. I’m gonna make you a tea. I’m a pro in dealing with colds, trust me.” You insisted, already reaching for the water boiler to fill it up with fresh water.

“Thank you. You really don’t have to though.” He giggled coughing again.

“No I want to. I’m sure you will feel better after this tea. I made it every time my siblings were ill.” You smiled at him, feeling already a tad more comfortable with this man, you literally just met.

Seokmin took a seat in one of the high chairs on his side of the kitchen aisle while watching you chop the vegetables. He noticed how soft your hair looked like, falling gently onto your face. He took his phone out to check his messages. There were just a few from his manager about their usual schedule and some silly messages in their group chat. He softly giggled reading through all of them, wondering how he even got friends like this.

You couldn’t help stealing short glances here and there at the beautiful man, noticing how he swept his fluffy bed hair with one hand out of his face. Something about him was immensely attractive and you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. But hell no, you were not going to develop a crush on a man you literally met one time. Nope. All idols would probably have this effect on you, right? They weren’t idols without a reason.

Soon enough you finished Dokyeoms tea with a last pinch of fresh mint leaves and handed it over to him with a smile. He thanked you, white teeth showing and crescent eyes forming. Melting, definitely melting.

“Wow... It’s very good.” He carefully slurped from the warm tea. You sent him a bright smile, deep down thanking your tea making skills you’ve even improved thanks to your job at the café. That was definitely a pro from working there.

“I sometimes work in a small café, so I had plenty of time to practice. I probably could make you every drink you want.” You laughed while taking out a frying pan to avoid his interested eyes following your every movement.

His laugh mused in with yours. “I always wanted to know someone, who could just magically let all the drinks I wanted appear in my kitchen. Thank god I stayed at home today.”

You both were pleasantly surprised how easy talking to each other was. There was a spark of fun in your conversation, which you both couldn’t get enough of. There weren’t many people you knew, If any, who you just clicked with so easily. It was definitely weird but you liked it.

“The food will still take a bit so you are free to make one more drink wish.” You chuckled, glancing over at Dokyeom leaning his head in the palm of his hand.

A genuine smile was displayed across his lips. “Mhh I have to think, this is a very important desicion, I don’t want to make a mistake.” You both snickered in unison. My god, how were you getting along so well with him?

“Alright, you still have exactly 28 minutes and a half to decide.”

“How generous, I will think about it.” His smile was even brighter now, it was impossible not to smile. There was just something about it that gave you an enormous serotonin boost and transformed you into one of these giggly anime Highschool girls. The bad thing was, you didn’t even remember acting that was after experiencing such a rush of being in his proximity. You liked it more than you could have imagined.

However, this was just the starting point of your wholesome conversation this day. It all just came so naturally, you nearly forgot to keep cooking. Seokmin on his side felt incredibly happy compared to his usual happy demeanor. He truly enjoyed your back and forth conversations and he felt greatly satisfied, seeing a bright smile or hearing you laugh because of his comments. It was at times like this when he remembered how much he missed talking to new people, especially when the two of you were obviously on the same wave length. He kept forgetting that he probably shouldn’t talk that much when he was sick but he just couldn’t stop, even if you mentioned it more than three times already. He enjoyed it that much.

You two talked about funny stories of your mom, ridiculous ones of the other members (you really wouldn’t have expected an idol group to be this funny) and also about your own interests, hobbies and families. You snorted when he told you how their trio Booseoksoon sang one of their songs at his sisters wedding in order to make the married couple kiss. The more you got to know each other, the more you forgot how time actually flied.

He even begged you to stay and eat with him when you finally finished cooking, which you hesitantly accepted after seeing his pleading puppy look. What did you get yourself into?

While eating, you told him excitedly about your new fashion projects, you were working on. He was more than hooked listening to every detail. He always loved it when people told him about their passion and he could clearly see that this was yours with how vivid your eyes were beaming and how big your smile grew. It secretly increased the warmth in his heart more and more.

It was the same look he had on his face as he told you about his fans, their next album preparations and the amazing concerts all around the world. You just loved listening to him, even though you both probably finished eating since over an hour already. Sitting so close to him while looking at his dark shining eyes made your brain just automatically foggy.

It only was when your friend and roommate Minji called to ask where you were for your groups project meeting, that you realised how long you actually let yourself swaying in Dokyeoms presence. You were already over half an hour late to your meeting.

You quickly told her you were on your way and hung up, while carrying the plates to the sink. Seokmins sad eyes followed you as he stood up to help you. “You have to go?” He asked immediately, now standing next to you, taking the plates out of your hands, while towering a good piece over you.

You nodded with a sad smile, suddenly feeling every effect he had on you even stronger.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I already stayed way too long. My group is going to kill me.” You tried joking. He chuckled, searching for your eyes.

Seokmin knew when he was interested in a person and it even was obvious for him that you sparked a deep interest inside of him after today. He just knew he wanted to see you again.

“I really enjoyed talking to you. It’s rare to have such a nice conversation. I literally forgot time.” His rich chocolate eyes met yours. “Yeah, I feel the same...” you chocked out, heart beating way too fast again. What was it with your heart today?

“Are you coming over again or...?” He asked almost timidly while fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He looked adorable. Absolutely adorable.

You sent him a shy smile, shrugging your shoulders. “Maybe... I am kind of busy this month because of work and university. But... I would love to talk to you again.” A sudden wave of confidence hit you and took even you by surprise.

A sigh of relief was heard from his side and you giggled. “Thank god. I really wanted to ask you for your phone number.”

God he really was adorable. Such a cutie.

With a grin, you searched for a piece of paper and a pen nearby and quickly scribbled your number onto it. You really had no worry about him being secretly a creep so why not.

“Here you go. Oh and I still didn’t make you your second free drink, so make sure to text me with your order.” There you both went into a giggling mess again.

“Will do. It’s all I’m thinking about.”

So after swiftly cleaning the plates together and saying goodbye and also telling him to get better soon, you made your way out of the building with such an energy, you had no idea where it came from. But you loved how you felt after spending time with Dokyeom. And you were definitely looking forward to your next meeting.

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calypsoff2 · 3 years

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Six. Part 4

The girls are not happy that the porters have taken their dad, but he will be back, I hope his lung has inflated but he seems well to be honest, but you never know with Chris, he likes to lie to just get out of this place “how were they?” I asked my mother, letting Imani down because Chris has gone for his scan, she won’t pull on anything “they were good, you like Imani’ hair” looking over at her smiling “reminds me of the pain I went through, did she cry?” I didn’t hear her cry “no she didn’t, she isn’t weak like you” I gasped, how rude “but they were all good, we went shopping. They picked everything out themselves, I just walked with them, and they used their own money” I cooed out looking over at them “you are spoiling daddy lots haven’t you, I love them and so does daddy. Got him crying didn’t you” I love that my girls wanted to use their own money, but they actually don’t have any money, I just paid “mommy we wanted it to be from us” of course they did “they even picked the shoes?” I can only imagine what they got “Rajad and the girls went back and forth, he was trying to help them but girls for you” I chuckled “oh mom” Tianna held my hand and got in my eye view “Imani was waving at strangers, they kept saying Rihanna and Imani kept waving. We said no you can’t” looking at my mother “oh just New York for you, people recognized the girls, they were ok, but people just kept shouting their names and Rajad picked up Imani at the end of it, but people just did the most including taking pictures of them, I did say no pictures” shaking my head “it’s ok Tianna, she will learn. Thank you for telling me” Imani will wave to anyone, she isn’t bothered “the girls are famous, they should have security with them too” TJ said, I forgot he was here “maybe you right” I mumbled “we did wave too though” Rylee spoke up “we were being kind” Tianna retorted “ok, it’s fine. Just don’t go near these people, you don’t know them ok” I just find New York unbearable to say the least, fans know everything when here.

These girls are literally wanting Chris to open his present, but he isn’t back yet “Robbie, so what have you decided. Christmas is coming up and I think we need to have some sort of idea? Joyce and I have an idea” oh they have been discussing “Imani, put the chocolates down please. They are daddy things” she passed me the box “I want it” looking back at my mom “I don’t know, why?” I asked my mother seeing as she knows everything right now “well we think, hopefully he will be out, but we go back to LA and we celebrate together? What do you think, we can just spend Christmas together. It will take the stress away from you doing it alone Robyn, I think you should let us take the stress away from you because Chris will be healing” she is right, they can really take that stress from me “I guess you are right” bless them, they are thinking of me because I am going crazy out of my mind thinking how I want to make the day so good for my daughters but I can’t because I am here and there “are we staying here dad?” Camron asked, like he is invited “oh we are going VA son” thank god, why is here still anyways, he can go now.

The porters bought Chris back in “dad” the girls rushed over “hey, come here. Sit down now. Let them do their job now” Chris is smiling so much at his girls “I am good babies, I missed y’all faces you know that right” I hope his lung is better “is it good news?” I asked, Chris shrugged “I don’t know Robyn, let me go and see the results myself” squinting my eyes at him “you want me to beat yo ass so bad” Chris snorted laughing “don’t be so rude to me” Chris said like he hasn’t been rude to me all this time, I swear this guy is a trip “on a real I don’t know” smiling at him, he stuck his tongue out at me as he would “uncle, are you going to come to my games?” if Camron doesn’t leave my husband alone, he is a father to three other girls, he doesn’t need him. His dad is there, I know that Chris is very involved with Camron but still. I just find it annoying “Robyn, hey. Can I speak to you?” TJ asked, I paused looking at my kids “mom, make sure the girls are ok. Especially Imani, I don’t want her to jump on Chris” I chuckled, she is ready to get at her dad. Getting up from the seat “where y’all going now?” Chris asked “I just need to ask Robyn something, be back bro” feeling a hand catch mine, looking behind me “I will be back Tianna” she didn’t want me to go there “ok” she mumbled, walking off behind TJ.

I guess he has been seeing me pulling faces, I know Chris has caught me doing just that and has been questioning what is wrong with me but it’s his friend and my friend, they are the ones annoying me now “Mel going to stay or she going?” I said, she is sat in the waiting room. She hasn’t even come into the room, why is she hiding in here “I am going” Mel said as she got up from the seat “I just want you to know that I do respect Chris, you think I don’t, but I do” waving her off, I don’t want to hear it, I just want her to leave me be right now. When I am in this mood I am not good for anyone, I am not nice to anyone either so can she please. TJ is brave, clearly trying to be with his little man syndrome too. Sitting down, looking at TJ looking at my friend and she looked at him. Is she praying for him, I am not going to kill him now. The door closed “uh yeah, I just feel there is some bitter feelings between you and I? I don’t like that because we family” I am just staring at the chain Chris got him and himself, like a brother thing but I am sick and tired, because this is like kind of on my dime too. I am paying for his lifestyle “family can always be no good too TJ, I am going to be straight up with you. You’re living a lifestyle you can’t afford; you know I am right” TJ is offended “because you’re Rihanna you think you can just assume I can’t afford shit?” oh he is not happy “well why aren’t you paying for your child going to private school? What about basketball academy? Oh yeah, Chris got him in that because of me, I did it not knowing. Like a dumb bitch I am, not knowing my husband would be paying, I thought you would be doing it. I have left this situation alone, I didn’t want to upset my husband and then upset you, because then I am getting between you both but because my man could have been hurt because of his niceness I am done, you either have the money or you don’t? I don’t think you can, wasn’t my husband helping you pay for the home in LA!? Nigga you are living ten minutes away from us! You can’t afford that apartment” now it’s out, he is upset of course.

He is not a man, clearly because he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up “you own Black Pyramid but baby that isn’t no Fenty is it now? You are living beyond your means; I don’t mind helping people. You can ask my own family, shit. Even Mel, you can ask her. She never took off me, I have helped her with getting the connect but money wise? She lived with me yes, she generally was with me, but I never actively gave her money and paid out for her apartment, I don’t employ my family. I will help them and that is blood, now you!? Chris is being beyond kind” I think I am being too harsh, let me just backdown “you know what TJ, he even helped you get that son of yours. Have you ever thought of you know being appreciative” TJ crossed his arms across his chest “Chris knows me, I always thank him. How can you think of me as a freeloader, I am always there for him. Camron is like his own son; I don’t mind that. Camron loves Chris more then me!” he spat “because he gives him things, how about you give him things? How about you be the dad, huh?” I said “then how about you produce a son for him” that took me a back, like that shit hit me hard and it shut me up. I think the words left his lips and he wanted to rewind the situation “you know I lost the baby; you know. You were there, we were preparing for my twelve week scan, you know this, and you said that!? Wow, fuck you” TJ cringed “I am sorry” he apologised, he can go and fuck himself, I am done with this conversation.

I had a little cry by myself, that is so hurtful to even say that to someone that lost their child. He fucking knew I did, and he just used that, like I have to give him a son for him to not do shit for Camron anymore, is that what he meant but I had a little cry to just let it out. I had to cry because if I didn’t do in the toilets them I would have done it while in that room, that shit was uncalled for. He was just trying to upset me, and it worked anyways, opening the door to the room “mommy” Imani ran at me “hey, I am coming inside baby come on” grabbing her arm to move her inside “water, I don’t want it no more” taking the cup from her, TJ is still here, and I don’t get why. Looking over at Chris, his head tilted to the side glaring at me “what’s wrong?” he asked “nothing, just hayfever” sitting down on the chair “really?” he questioned “yes, I said what I said. What is happening with you” Rylee is now staring at me, placing the cup down “they will be taking the tube out, they are happy” that is so good “so surgery?” Chris nodded his head “you know what, I am going to take the girls back. I am tired and also you will have that surgery, he can stay here anyways. But the girls need to go back and rest” Chris knows something off “going?” he said like I swore at him “yes, I am tired. I will come back tomorrow. You have TJ and also they won’t discharge you yet, call and text me, or better yet I will just drop some food off” staring at Chris, he is staring at me and he is not happy but he has to drop it “fine” he mumbled, TJ can stay seeing as he won’t fucking leave, I will just go and rest with my daughters.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Chrianna Fanfic #Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfiction

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asgardianthot · 5 years

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Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 1

Fake Dating AU

Series Masterlist

Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.

A/N: You want some clichés? I’ll give you some clichés! Fake Dating, friends to lovers, asshole ex-boyfriend, only one bed, mutual pinning, slowburn, you name it :) Also rich!Bucky headcanon because I can.

Words: 3944

The night before.

"What is it this time?" Sam answered the phone, preparing for the rant he was about to hear.

On the other end, Bucky sighed heavily.

"Everything?"

Sam kept his chuckle in as he poured the freshly cooked spaghetti on a plate.

"That's a new one." He rolled his eyes, "Is he still calling you or something?"

"Yeah, and... God, I think I might take him up on his offer."

Although his friend's tone was extremely off-putting, Sam knew him too well and was certain that Bucky wasn't being serious. He was just saying it to be dramatic because he felt trapped. Still, he needed to be reminded that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Wilson placed the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could take his meal to the table which was a few steps away from the actual kitchen zone.

"No, you won't." Sam reminded him.

"I might!"

Bucky didn't sound honest, but he sounded desperate. He had broken up with the world's biggest, most monumental jerk a hundred times before, yet for various financial and emotional reasons, Bucky had also returned to the man too many times. Sam knew there was an emotional bond, a toxic one, but never asked to what extent, he just made sure Bucky didn't fall back into his webs. Recently, though, it seemed as if he had come to his senses; hadn't picked up the phone when the devil's name came up on his screen for weeks, didn't even mention the master manipulator in a long time.

Sam sat at the small table and put his phone on speaker, next to his food.

"You can't just go back for his money, man."

"Well, I can't keep crashing at my parents’ house, either." Barnes replied with more anguish than Sam had expected.

He sounded like he was fed up with the whole living situation. Although the Barnes weren't necessarily bad, they were inherently overwhelming and controlling people with whom Bucky had already spent eighteen miserable years; Sam understood how downright exhausting it must be to go back to them for help, and he understood why he hated it there. He probably had just gotten into an argument, but Sam still felt empathy towards his poor friend, because Sam's parents were the nicest people on earth- sure, they pried and judged from time to time, but only the normal parental amount. He couldn't imagine growing up in the Barnes' house.

So instead of spurring out laments and empathic hums, he focused on finding Bucky a solution, reminding him there was a way out of the mansion-trap.

"What about that job?"

"I didn't get it." There was a hearable stop, followed by a groan, "I don't know what else to do, I don't know how much longer I can stay here!"

As he worked his brain, Sam shoved a forkfull of spaghetti into his mouth, using the time he was chewing to concoct a quick solution. His friend just needed some caring aid, and Sam was good with home finances, he's good at being responsible and setting down instructions. He's a college professor after all, so giving orders and helping people in confusing times was wired into his bones.

He swallowed before speaking, "Tell you what, why don't you come over and we'll figure something out?"

Sam was just finished doing his single dish in his single apartment when Bucky got there. He opened the door and found the resemblance of a lost puppy.

"Thank you."

The host ushered him inside, and while Bucky closed the door behind him, Sam returned to the kitchen to finish putting everything away.

"Don't thank me yet. We need to come up with a plan." He turned to him with a mildly disappointing glance, for he was expecting a disappointing answer, "Just to be clear: no savings?"

"Nope." Bucky popped his 'p' with exaggerated defeat.

"Remind me to call you an idiot later."

"Will do." He nodded.

While Sam put away the now clean pan on the bottom counter, James found himself shame-walking to the table. He sat down, extended his arms over the furniture and let his head drop with self-pity.

"What about your folks, are they really not willing to help out?" Sam tried.

"They won't give me a single penny."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

As soon as Wilson headed towards his friend, he noticed Bucky was waiting for him to be able to stay one hundred percent attentive. He was fidgeting with his fingers and bouncing his leg up and down, looking way too nervous for being around Sam, his best friend whom he trusted more than anyone. So, Sam got the severity of the issue and sat down on the table with him.

"Listen..." Bucky began, although he missed Sam's eye contact on purpose, "I was thinking... and I know that you've already supported me enough, but maybe... you could, uh... Lend me some money?" Suddenly, his face contorted in anguish as he was clearly embarrassed to even ask; before Sam could respond, he started rambling, "Just to get my own place, and I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get some stability."

Sam tilted his head with sympathy.

"Of course I can lend you some money. But it's still a risky shot, dude."

Seeing him shrug, Sam noticed the evident sadness and surrender in James' face, and Sam wondered if it had been the devil ex or the Barnes who had sucked the hope out of him.

"It's all I got. I can't stand my parents any longer."

Sam nodded, and they fell into some silence. The discomfort coming from Bucky's end of the table was palpable, so Sam attempted to ease some of the tension.

"You can always just leave the country and go live with your sister." He joked.

The way Bucky looked at him with a small smile, Sam could read the gratefulness in his eyes.

"Nah, I could never leave you." Barnes taunted back, "You'd crumble."

"Yeah, that's it." Sam looked away with lifted, disbelieving eyebrows, "Definitely not the other way around."

He got a chuckle out of his best friend, and in comparison to the glim aura that had been surrounding him the last minutes, it was a relieving sound

" 'sides, she wouldn't get off my back either." Bucky added, "Rebecca's not an option."

Once again, silence dropped on them, only this time it was a pensive one. It didn't take long for Sam to have the best idea he'd had yet.

"Drink?" he offered.

"Please."

"I'm telling you, I can't seem to do anything right." Bucky admitted in between sips of wine, "The more I try to fix my shit, the more I mess it up, and that's Brock's cue to jump right back into the picture and offer an easy way out."

"You can't let him control you." His friend reminded him, "You're better than that."

Bucky had heard that speech a hundred times, and a hundred times he had lowered his head with shameful agreement, like a toddler being reprimanded and responding with the generic You're right, I'll do better. However, this time, Barnes was honest. Too honest, for Sam's taste, actually. Staring into nothingness as if illuminated by some divine realization of disappointment, he clacked his tongue.

"See, I don't know that I am."

Sam, on his part, was having none of that.

"Yes, you are. You've just made some very questionable choices." He slurred, and only then did Bucky realize how drunk his friend had gotten over the past hour, "And you wanna know why?"

With the last question went a very unpreoccupied hand gesture, employing the hand which held the glass of red wine like he'd forgotten the wine was even there, and therefore almost spilling it all over his carpet.

Bucky cringed and reached for the now turned dangerous beverage.

"I think that's enough wine for you." He laughed, trying to pry the glass away.

"Because you never listen to me!" Sam ignored him, which was Bucky's cue to effectively grab it and leave it on the coffee table, "I told you not to let him pay for stuff in the first place. Told you if he owns everything you share, he owns you."

The words, Bucky remembered from many times prior. The harsh tone, though, was relatively new.

"It just sort of happened." He shrugged, "I lost my job and suddenly..."

As Bucky lost his trail, Sam filled in with amusement, "You became a housewife from, like, the 1950's."

Barnes smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood, and escape the current lecture he was receiving, "Why is that bad?"

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not playing along.

"Because you can't hand them your independence. Not to your parents, not to Brock Fucking Rumlow, not to anyone. You know what's worth more than money?"

"Let me guess, my freedom?"

"Your dignity." Sam laid out the words with much more seriousness any drunk man should be able to convey.

Silence followed the rough declaration, and Bucky sat back. He pursed his lips at the ground, feeling even more judged in that apartment than in his parents' house. At least, they nagged about things that were insignificant to him, but what Sam had just dropped was a truth-bomb that resonated with his deepest concerns.

"That hurt." He admitted.

He wasn't upset, and even less with Sam. This was what he needed to hear, after all, and he could always trust Sam to be responsible and hones, but that didn't mean he would sleep on that sentence until he made some real changes in his life.

"It's just the truth." Sam grinned with somewhat lament as he reached for more wine.

The day of.

Sam woke up the next morning with the smell of fresh breakfast, and a hangover. When he managed to get on his feet, he walked down to the living room, where he found Bucky preparing something in the kitchen. Last night's events came back to him at the sight of his face: his cry for help, one late night talk and lots of wine. That's pretty much all that came to mind, which made him wonder what his drunk persona had put Bucky through.

"Morning, pal!" the voice made him jump a bit.

Bucky seemed cheery, which meant that he'd woken up hangover-free, and that drunk Sam hadn't been a pain in his ass. Sam felt he could relax.

"Did I really pass out on red wine in my own couch?" he groaned, scratching the back of his head.

Walking closer, he recognized what Bucky was preparing as french toasts, and his rumbling stomach felt grateful.

"Like a grandpa." Bucky confirmed with a mocking tone.

"Jesus Christ." Sam sighed.

"Don't let your dad hear you say the Lord's name in vain."

The warning reminded Sam of Bucky's parental situation. Bucky was one of Sam’s few friends who knew Sam's parents, and they'd gotten along many times, whereas Sam had never even met the Barnes. He knew Rebecca, but that was about it, and he figured they must be real characters if Bucky kept them away from him.

Sam let his body fall flat onto the couch, and covered his eyes with his arm rather dramatically, "I'm slowly spiraling down into a mediocre professor's life."

"You're not a mediocre professor and you don't have a mediocre life." Bucky denied him the right to self-loathe.

"I disagree. Your problems are the highlight of my week."

"Stop moaning and eat up."

As Sam raised his arm to peak, he found a plate of french toasts and a cup of orange juice being offered to him.

He gave Bucky a look of ultimate gratefulness as he mumbled a thank you and received the food.

Suddenly he appreciated more than ever that his friend was good at cooking, even though it probably came from a tragic backstory like his many childhood maids taught him in order to replace the absence of his parents or something.

"Least I could do." Bucky reckoned, meaning the fact that Sam had welcomed him into his home and offered to help him with his financial situation, "This, and dragging you to bed last night."

Sam visibly cringed before taking a big bite, "Did I say really dumb stuff?"

Bucky reflected on that idea for a hot second. Sam had, as a matter of fact, spilled out some truths, but Bucky didn't want to embarrass him, so he simply let it go.

He chuckled instead, "Nah, just the usual stupidity."

On his way to prepare some coffee, he checked his phone and noticed he'd received a text: we need to talk.

He knew what this was about. Which was the reason why he told his parents to meet him for lunch, some place they would approve of, after he'd had time to tidy up and borrow some of Sam's clothes. All just to minimize the judgement he was about to endure.

As soon as he sat down on the restaurant table, Barnes father hit him with that familiar severity.

"Where did you spend the night?"

"A hotel room." Bucky replied.

"You can't afford one."

"And I have you to thank for that." The tone quickly shifted to one of mutual accusations, "You're the one who cancelled all my cards."

"James." His mother joined the conversation in an attempt to get Bucky to lower said tone.

"It’s fine. I'm gonna crash at a friend's house.” Bucky directed the eased words to his mother, "Until I get on my own feet- which I will."

"A friend?" the dad interrupted, "Is that what you're doing now to pay for a roof over your head?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows, unamused, "Are you calling me a whore?"

"James, your father and I are worried." The woman reached over the table for her son's hands, "We want you to get yourself out of this... low spot. And last night, you proved your immaturity to us by throwing a tantrum and running away."

"Wasn't a tantrum." James retrieved his hands from his mother's grasp, "Look, if you're not going to help me out financially, then I see no reason to indulge your criticism. Otherwise it's just free abuse."

The older man rolled his eyes, "Always the drama king."

A cloud of silence fell upon the three people, thankfully soon joined by a waitress who took their orders. After they all delivered their monotone words and handed the lady their menus, Barnes father went back to the same topic.

"So, who's paying for your stuff?"

Bucky sat back on his chair, "Oh, we're still on that."

"Just wanna know how much I owe the poor soul. You keep forcing your financial situation on people, you're gonna run out of friends."

Eventually, James found himself in a tight spot. Whatever answer he gave his father, the man wouldn't be satisfied. His own son begging for money was beyond simple disappointment. The only time George Barnes had approved of Bucky depending on someone was when Brock Rumlow owned his life, because Brock was a family friend and a fine young man. Naturally, an opportunity popped into Bucky's head.

"Well, he's not a friend." He announced, earning attentive looks from both his parents, "He's, uh... we're a couple. He's not lending me money, we're sort of... living together."

Something in their eyes told Bucky they weren't buying it.

"Since when?" the mother asked.

"It's been sporadic. But we're stable."

George Barnes narrowed his eyes, "I take it it's not Rumlow."

"No, I told you, that's over." Bucky shook his head.

"Then I wanna meet this guy."

"Oh, invite him over to Nana's." The woman clapped her hands together.

The simple thought of the upcoming family vacation made him lose his appetite. Every year during spring break, the Barnes would get together for some quality time at their grandparents’ lake house. Bucky figured that this year, he probably would spend one or two weeks there before he could manage an excuse to leave. That was before he made up a fictional boyfriend, though, and the biggest problem was he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring.

"He has plans for the break." He lied.

Winnifred gave him a look that yelled incomprehension, as if she was incapable of fathoming the idea of someone not wanting to join their plans. "He can cancel them, he'll have more fun at the lake house anyways!"

"It's just that-"

"He'd love it.” Her voice began doing that thing where she sounded like she was genuinely begging, instead of simply manipulating, “And maybe you two could win Nana's hunt this year."

Now that caught Bucky’s attention. That actually made him reconsider everything. The Barnes had some very odd traditions, some Bucky loved and some he despised; but there was one in particular he had very mixed sentiments about, and which now presented itself like lifeboat.

"Right. The hunt." He trailed off, contemplating the possibility of participating in the godforsaken annual hunt.

"So what's he do?" his father’s words snapped him back.

"Huh?"

"Your boyfriend. What does he do?"

Bucky swallowed hard. In a moment of complete panic, his blank mind went to the easiest way out: the person who had actually offered his house to him for the night. Sam’s occupation was the only thing that popped into his head.

"He's a... professor.” He blurted out without much thought, “University."

"That's lovely." His mother approved.

Shit. It only then occurred to him that he was effectively making up a boyfriend, job and all, which meant he certainly couldn’t get away from it now. And it would only get worse as he dug into his lie deeper and deeper.

"What do I call him?" the older man asked.

Once again, Bucky found himself gulping.

"You told them what?!" Sam exclaimed.

Bucky sat with his head down in shame, while Sam paced around his own apartment, furiously.

"I'm sorry." Barnes said truthfully.

"You could've dragged anyone along with your dumb plans.” Sam ignored him and continued scolding him. “Why me?"

The appellee sighed, "It was an ambush, Sam, you should've seen it."

"I don't care!"

"They were asking me all these questions, it felt like a fucking quizz!” Bucky’s lamenting state turned much more hectic as he tried to explain his actions, “I panicked, I don't know, it just came out."

A big breath of disappointment shook Sam’s chest. Of course, he tried to understand Bucky when it came to his family. He did his best. But this was too much, for now that pressure had been transported to Sam. The weight relied on Sam’s shoulders as a whole. Still, he figured there was no way out of the hole Bucky had dug for the both of us. If the Barnes thought Sam was their son’s boyfriend, then that’s what he was. At least, until Bucky found an exit for both of them.

Reflecting on how this would be the last favor he would ever do for his friend, and at the same time acknowledging that was just a lie he told himself, Sam sat next to Bucky, who seemed expectant of more judgement. Much to his surprise, Sam’s words weren’t harsh.

"I take it they wanna meet the boyfriend." He said, a lot more nonchalantly than either of them expected.

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes, "Shit, are you serious? Would you do that for me?"

"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time I get you out of trouble." Sam ran a hand down his face.

"Sam, you’re-“

"The best, I know.” Wilson glanced up at the ceiling for strength, laying back on his couch, “So when do we have to put on a show?"

There was a brief silence, only interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s fingernails scratching the back of his head, which dropped another wave of tension upon the pair.

"That's the thing." Bucky cringed.

"What's the thing?"

"You know my family's lake house?" he tempted.

"No. No, no, no!” Sam found himself standing up at the mere thought of what he knew he was being asked, “I am not going to the middle of rich nowhere with you and your folks."

"It would only be a week.” Bucky raised his voice with a plea, earning a look of disbelief from Sam who felt like a week was not worthy of being introduced by the word ‘only’, “But, with a bunch of family members."

Samuel shook his head, clear disbelief plastered on his features.

"You don't realize how insane you sound right now."

"Hear me out, this is a good thing. Just... listen.” Bucky raised his hands in defense, “You know how my grandfather left his fortune to Nana?”

Doing his absolute best to stay open-minded, Sam nodded. Perhaps Bucky was headed somewhere with his explanation.

“Well, she has this... odd way of getting rid of it."

"The hell you talking about?" Sam frowned, growing inpatient.

"I never told you ‘cause it made me sound even more of a trust fund baby."

"Which you are."

"Point taken.” Bucky tilted his head with acceptance before he continued, “But this is good for both of us. She hates giving out her money, but she has no use for it, so she... makes it into a game every year."

Sam remained quiet, becoming more and more upset because he started getting an idea of what this was about: money and his family’s eccentric behaviors. And of course, Bucky meant to bring Sam into both of those things.

"I hate your family."

Bucky couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk, "You won't when you find out how much the prize is."

Suddenly, Sam found himself considering the offer. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm listening." He said, unprepared for the number he was about to hear.

"Four million dollars.” Bucky laid out like he was pitching him a job offer, which, in some twisted way, it was, “We split it, I can get back on my own feet, gain my independence... and you get two millions for being such a good friend."

The amount of money was too much for a family game. The idea sounded too ridiculous for any normal family. But then again, these were the Barnes. Therefore, while Sam was having a hard time processing the information, he blinked fast, maintaining eye contact with Bucky, almost as if waiting for his friend to break character and reveal that this was all a joke.

"Two million dollars?" Sam confirmed.

"Two million each." Bucky nodded, expectant.

Sam had to sit back down, but not next to Bucky this time. He sat on the coffee table, still digesting it. The prize was more than what he made in a year. And it really seemed like this was Bucky’s best solution to all his problems.

"And it's a game?" Sam asked with that same cautious tone.

"Yeah, it's a... treasure hunt.” Barnes shrugged, “With, like, challenges and stuff. She cooks up the entire thing in her twisted little mind."

Sam nodded, at nothing really, but just as a manner of expressing that he had processed everything properly.

"But we'd have to pretend for a full week and actually win the thing."

"Nana loves me, 've always been her favorite. You butter her up, she'll give us the cheats. Make it easy for us."

The man nodded again, this time with purpose, "Okay."

"Okay?" Bucky raised his eyebrows with hope.

"Okay." Sam raised his voice before he could regret the choice, "Let's get this prize."

#sambucky #sam wilson/bucky barnes #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky au #fake dating au #fatws #ftws #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky barnes #slowburn #only one bed #rich!bucky

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automatismoateo · 3 years

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Why I left my religion and how it changed my life via /r/atheism

Submitted April 23, 2021 at 09:01AM by Iamnameless_ (Via reddit https://ift.tt/3gzpZxk) Why I left my religion and how it changed my life

I have tried for years to put what I went through into words or to make sense of it, but no matter how hard I try I can never paint a full picture of how awful It felt to be born a girl in a Muslim household.

This is for the many little girls out there who feel what I’ve felt. Who spend their nights crying and feeling lonely, scared and trapped. This is a success story and I hope that it will bring hope to you.

Before I begin, i would like to state that there is a difference between Islam and the culture around it. The problem isn’t Islam nor is it the religion itself. It is the toxic culture that has been built around it by muslims and the hidden truths that women are too scared to reveal.

I grew up in a Muslim household in a western country. My parents were extremely religious - to the point where it was extreme.

My father abused my mother my entire life and in return she took out it out on us. Now of course, not all Muslim men are abusive, although it is easy to get away with and not exactly frowned upon. My father was never involved in our lives, he didn’t know our birthdays or anything about us really. My mother had the obligation to take care of us, she would spend all day cooking and cleaning and dealing with the abuse. She became numb, empty and trapped. Consequently, she became even more religious, trying to convince herself that her sacrifices and her pains were going to be rewarded by god. She became so afraid of my father punishing her for our behaviour that she also became toxically controlling.

I could go on for days and write shocking and horrifying things, but I need to protect myself and I’m also not ready to reveal everything I went through because to be quite honest, I find it humiliating and it makes me cringe (even anonymously).

My parents always told us stories about how woman that didn’t obey the rules of Islam were killed. They would go in specific detail and give us examples and names. We grew up in fear and we were taught that girls basically had no rights, they had to do everything their parents said until they got married and then their husband would tell them what to do. My brother was free as bird. He could do anything he wanted.

My mother would make me clean the house and do the dishes while my brother just sat there playing video games. Whenever I would ask why I had to do it and not him, she would answer “because you’re a girl”. I must’ve heard that sentence a billion times and each time she repeated it, I hated her even more.

When I was about 6 years old, my mother came to pick me up from school and as we were leaving my biggest fear at the time occurred — a boy in my class said goodbye to me. My mother became furious. She told me that I was never allowed to be friends with boys and looked at me with such disgust as If I had done something awful. She told me that in our religion and culture, girls are not allowed to be friends with boys. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I developed terrible anxiety from that behaviour. Every time that my mother would pick me up from school, my palms would become sweaty, my heart would race and all I would feel is fear. It seems to ridiculous and almost funny to write, but at the time it was a genuinely scary thing.

When I was about 8, we went to a park with some family. I layed down in the grass and my mother came to me and grabbed me by the arm violently and told me that girls aren’t allowed to “lie down” infront of men (who I was related to). Again, it was confusing but she had this way of speaking to me and looking at me that made me fear her and do everything she said.

When I was 11, my breasts started to develop very rapidly. All of the sudden, I was becoming a woman. I was forbidden from wearing shirts that didn’t cover up my entire upper body. It felt unfair and wrong. I didn’t understand why my body (that I didn’t chose) was causing so much uproar. I wanted to play, to be free, to wear comfortable clothing. I didn’t even understand sex, I was a child, yet sex (or the fear of it) was the premise of my life. It was who I was, it was everything I did. My parents based my entire existence on sex.

We had a family friend who had a daughter my age. She was born with one of her Fallopian tubes twisted and as she got older the pain was so awful that she would scream in anguish. The girls mother refused the simple surgery that could stop her pain because the doctor had to enter through her vagina and cut her hymen to do the procedure. I overheard my mother saying that she shouldn’t get the surgery because what if one day she gets married and her husband doubts her virginity. It absolutely shattered my heart and changed my view on Islam forever.

Around that age, I got my first period. I was absolutely terrified to tell my mother about it. It was only after the second time that it happened that I had the guts to tell her. She was extremely uncomfortable and didn’t look at me. She didn’t explain what was happening and she made me feel dirty and disgusting. After that, things got worse and worse.

I went to high school and suddenly it all hit me in the face. I understood my entire life. I understood that I had been taught none sense and lies. I understood that I had been mentally abused. I understood that i was going nowhere with the life I had. I became angry, heavily depressed and suicidal.

I wasn’t allowed to have a social life and I wasn’t allowed to wear tight or “revealing” clothes. I had to be home after school on the dot. Literally, my mom would wait at the door for me and if I was even a minute late she would scream at me as I walked in. Like genuinely yell at me for being 5 minutes late and accuse me of being with boys and doing bad things and lying. It was traumatizing, since I was always telling the truth (at least then). Every single day, I would hop off the bus and run home. And then I would fight with my mother over non existant boys and cry all night long- and repeat. This went on pretty much my entire adolescence and I lost my fucking mind. I can’t even begin to explain the pain. I just didn’t want to live. School kept me going, I had good grades, greats friends and I just loved it. But I had an awful secret and I never said a word about it. Every night I would get on my knees and pray to a god that I didn’t believe in and that I hated, that I would die. I just couldn’t imagine getting out of my situation.

I looked up things online a couple of times, wondering if I was the only one going through this and I was shocked to see that it was common. When I was 16, I tried to kill myself. I woke up one morning and I felt absolutely nothing it was like I was already dead. I couldn’t handle it anymore, I was alone. Nobody could see, nobody could tell and this was my life forever. I ended up at the hospital and lived but I couldn’t care less. I told the nurses that I didn’t want to see my family and I was taken to a psych ward where I stayed for a few days. I felt peace for the first time in my life. I was all alone but I was free (ironically I was locked up in a hospital room). When they asked me why I did it I couldn’t get the words out so I was very vague. My mother and brother came to visit me and although they were crying, the first thing she said to me was “how could you do this to us and to your father” and that this was haram and that I needed to pray to god and everything would be ok. I tried telling her that I couldn’t live like this anymore but I was too afraid to say that I fucking hated god and that I felt more oppressed than a dog. So when the doctors asked me if I felt better and if I wanted to leave I said yes and I guess they just assumed I was a stupid teenage girl. I went back home and things were a little different for a few days but then and it got bad again.

That’s when my entire life changed. I tried dying and it didn’t work. So now I had nothing to lose, it was either die or die trying. I became rebellious, started talking back, starting talking to boys, starting hanging out with friends after school and lying about it and wearing clothes and changing them after leaving the house. I realized that whether I did or I didn’t, I was going to get yelled at and since I was a “girl” I couldn’t be trusted, so I decided to make it worth something. I wasn’t scared of my parents anymore because I realized that they were just people- like me. And that they were sad and miserable so I made it my goal to not end up like that. I decided I was going to leave home at 18.

After my suicide attempt, I had to see a social worker once a week. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never told her what was going on at home specifically because I was embarrassed, scared and in-denial. But I opened up to her in small ways and spoke about the way my mother treated me in general and it opened up my eyes little by little. I realized that I was never the problem. I realized that I was a child. I realized that parents can be bad and wrong. I realized that my home life was abnormal and toxic. I realized that my mother was a victim, that she was an abused woman trying to cope by “protecting” her children and feeling important. I realized that my father was weak. That he was a coward all along and that he needed to feel strong by asserting his dominance. But most importantly, I realized that I was so much more than I was taught I was - I was smart, I was strong and I was a person not just an object for men’s pleasure.

At 18, my mother began to suspect my secret life. She came into my room and told me that girls who do bad things in Islam get killed. And for the first time, I wasn’t scared. I could see how weak she felt and how scared she was. And so one day I went to school, I took the bus back home and a few stops before my house, I thought to myself “oh wow I can’t do it anymore”. So I got off and I went to a friends house and I didn’t go home that night. My parents called, texted, found me on all social media, contacted my friends, sent out threatening texts... A part of me was absolutely terrified that they would find me and do something bad. But the other part of me couldn’t get enough of the freedom and the air. I went to school the next day and told a counsellor and the police everything. I didn’t want to get my parents in trouble, in fact I felt really terrible and selfish. I told the cops that I didn’t get any real threats and that I didn’t want to file a report or anything, but that I just wanted this on record in case anything ever happened to me.

At first, they would send me abusive terrible texts everyday. About how I’m terrible, disgusting, selfish, that god hates me, that I will burn in hell, that I’ve ruined their lives and their honour. And then afterwards they would beg me to come home and tell me they love me. But then they would text me that I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle gods words, that I was a sinner. And then that they loved me and just wanted me back and that we could go back to normal. And then again, I’m ungrateful, I’m dumb, i gave into tentations, I’m a whore.

I didn’t see my parents for a year. They contacted me non stop, begging me to come visit so that the rest of our family wouldn’t notice I left home. They stopped inviting people over so that they wouldn’t ask questions. They told me that if I’m seen with a boy or wearing revealing clothes their lives would be over and they begged me to not do so for them.

I spent the entire year healing my wounds, my trauma and working on myself. I moved into a studio apartment and worked part time while being a full time student. I got a student loan that allowed me to live, i didn’t have much but I had never ever in my entire life felt so happy. I felt like I was on top of the world, I could do anything and be anything. (I had an incredible support system during this period and I was followed by a specialist. I got help and opened up to people. It was difficult, a process and alot of hard work. Without all that I don’t think this would’ve been a success story).

At 19, I met my parents in a cafe out of guilt. I felt sorry for them but I just didn’t feel love. They told me that they accept who I am but the only thing they ask is that I come back into their lives and that I hide this part of my life to the family and friends and that I visit every now and then so that nobody suspects anything. Obviously, growing up in the culture I knew how bad things would be for them and I understood. I saw them a couple of times here and then but I never felt like myself when I was there. I guess I did it for them and because I just felt awful that I had to ruin their lives to make mine better. But as I said, it was death or this. It just was never who I was meant to be.

Today I am happy and so grateful for everything I have and everything I went through. I would never ever change my past or my childhood because it made me into somebody I love and it took a long time to get here. I learned that pain can be worth something and it can be beautiful once it’s overcome. More importantly, I learned that as a girl I am strong and resilient. That I can handle so much more than I thought and that I can achieve anything or even more than what a man can.

I’m fortunate, privileged and lucky. My story could’ve taken several tragic turns. Im lucky that I live in a western country, that I have this possibility of freedom. I’m lucky to be educated and surrounded by wonderful people.

My story isn’t meant to anger people of Muslim faith. In fact, I hope that my story and the many many others that I know are out there will open up a discussion in the Muslim community. Instead of shaming and using scare tactics to control our daughters, we should be teaching them with love, trust and truth. I wouldn’t have left Islam if my parents taught me religion instead of toxic culture. But more importantly, I hope that this might show some girl out there that she definitely isn’t alone and that she’ll make it through.

I know it can be difficult for non-Muslim people to understand how all this is possible or to understand the gravity of it, how common it is and how painful it is. But just imagine all your rights being stripped away from you because you were born a girl. Kind of like being in quarantine for 18 years! It’s funny, I hear all my friends complain about quarantine and not being able to go out or be free and I just laugh to myself and think Imagine that, plus the mental abuse, plus the oppression—because that’s how it felt. Every single day.

How is it acceptable for my father to abuse my mother but not for me to wear a tank top?

How is it okay for my brother to drop out of college but I’m not allowed to stay at the library past a certain hour?

Why is my 40 years old uncle engaged to a 17 year old girl, but I can’t date a man that I meet who loves me and treats me with respect?

Why does a 10 year old boy have more rights than a 30 year old mother?

#reddit

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mka1098 · 4 years

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I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage -A PJO Fanfiction

A Percy Jackson Royal AU Fanfiction

Description: Percy is a prince, Annabeth is a royal overseer and they both are idiots who don’t realize they are in love.

If you want this fanfic read out for you, click the link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rngkxsHmkAU

Chapter 2

In truth, Percy’s head was reeling and he was not very happy with what his parents had just asked of him. Or more so what Annabeth had signed him up for! He wasn’t planning on being a bachelor forever, that would literally be impossible as a first born and only child monchach of a thriving kingdom.

“Why would you do this to me?” Percy whined when they got into the hallway and headed back to his room. Annabeth rolled her grey eyes.

“Do you want the traditional version? Because believe me you’d hate it.” She shot back.

“I don’t like this.” Percy said like a child, planting himself onto his bed. He crossed his arms and pouted. Annabeth sat down next to him and allowed him to lean his head on her shoulder. “I know. But you’ll find a Princess you’ll like. I promise.” She said, wrapping a hand under his head to rub his cheek like she did back when they were kids and Percy was stressed about ruling the kingdom one day.

“Why can’t you just do the things?” He said.

“Oh my god. We literally went over this with you like three times. How else am I going to drill it into your head. This is like the one thing I can’t help you with.” She groaned.

Percy made a whining noise when she stopped moving her hand; she restarted. “You usually can help me with everything!” He pointed out.

Annabeth gave him a tightened smile. “I know. This is a first.”

They were silent for a couple of minutes. Annabeth was probably thinking of everything she had to do to prepare for the Princesses and how it would add to her pre-existing workload; Percy was just whining like a baby about how his best friend couldn’t help him with this situation. A rogue part shouted to ignore all rules and make everyone agree for her to take over the queen duties for however long it would take for him to find a girl he liked. Percy couldn’t listen to that part of his head, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Would you like to hear more about the plan? Or about the Princesses you’ll be meeting?” Annabeth asked gently. Percy nestled his face into her hair and whined.

“No.” He said like a baby.

He felt her head nod. “Alright. Do you wanna a blue cookie to feel better? And then go swimming?” She asked. Percy grinned. God, she knew him so well. Annabeth’s tinkling laughter shook into his ears. “I thought so.” She said with amusement in her voice. Percy pouted at her like a child; she laughed. God, she knew him so well.

It was an hour later that Percy found himself surrounded by 3 of his top 5 favorite things. Annabeth, water and blue cookies. All that was missing was his mother and his sword, which he lovingly named Riptide. As a normal person does; name their sword.

“I feel better already.” He commented with a smile on his face. He leaned his arms onto the floating Annabeth was laying on, careful not to tip it over; Ironically, Annabeth was not a fan of being in the water.

“You’re a simple creature.” She teased, smirking behind her sunglasses. A thought rushed into his head that made him frown.

“What is it?” She asked him quickly, reading the expression.

Percy sighed. “Nothing, just… with the whole queen thing… it’s coming so soon. Ruling I mean. Sure I have 12 years or so but… it feels like it’s coming close. And honestly, I’m kinda scared.” He admitted.

Annabeth put a counseling hand on his arm. “I know, the future is scary. Ruling, sure it’s big. But that’s because you haven’t done much with it just yet. We’re easing you in; our kingdom had the best power transfer of all the power kingdoms because we prepare you years and years in advance. By the time it comes, you won’t be scared. You’re not going to be alone. For once, you’re gonna have your future wife with you and she'll be learning the ropes too. And I’ll be here to hold you steady until you get there.” She said. It was supposed to be comforting; he was supposed to feel better now hearing that. But, it just made him sad and a little more nervous.

“No.” Percy shook his head, the water flew off his dark locks. “Royal overseers only help till the monarch turns 25. I’ll still have up to 5 years to go without you; all alone.” He pointed out. Annabeth brushed a hand down his face softly, her face had a gentle smile on it.

“You’re not gonna need me when you’re twenty-five. You’ll be ready. And you won’t be alone. You’ll have your queen. You’ll have learned enough to not need my help or my guidance or presence or anything.” She said.

Percy frowned deeper, it felt foreign on his face. “But what if I want your help and presence and annoying nags?” Percy said.

“You won’t.” She sounded so certain. It was as if Percy could just close his eyes and believe fully that once he was 25, he wouldn’t need his best friend’s help. But he did; he knew that.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’ll have all of that from your queen.”

“But what about my best friend?”

Annabeth raised a brow at him and smiled in an amused way. “Do you really think it will be easy to get rid of him? You’re stuck with me for life.”

Percy smiled at that; normally he told her that so it was nice to hear it back. And of course, he didn’t mind being stuck with her for life. Sure she nagged at him every second of the day, out of love duh, was insanely organized and had a conniption whenever she walked into his room on a lazy day and was absolutely terrifying, but that was what made Annabeth his best friend.. Percy didn’t want to change a single thing about her; all those annoying things were just reasons to love her and her uniqueness.

“No but you won’t be my royal overseer.” He said with a sad sigh.

He couldn’t imagine doing anything without Annabeth guiding him or at least standing by his side. Her grey eyes watched him seriously without a word; it was mildly intimidating but also comforting. A sharpened gaze your way was how Annabeth showed she was listening.

In truth, Percy was growing frustrated, at all the rules he had to abide by and how he couldn’t just have his best friend in the entire world help. “Because you’ll have your queen. God how many times do I have to say this.” The blonde-haired girl said with a laugh. Percy tilted his head so his cheek rested on the floaty. He was not feeling very happy, to be totally upfront and honest.

“I hate this. In 7 years, or maybe less. You’re no longer going to be able to help me like this. I’m gonna have to depend on someone else, someone I don’t even know the name of right now! I don’t want to do that. I wanna depend on you! I’ve already put my life in your hands multiple times and each and every time I did it with complete trust. How am I gonna put that kind trust into someone else? I’ll only know them for 6 or so years. And they have to control the kingdoms too? How can I trust someone that much if they aren’t you?” Percy groaned into the plastic. “You won’t even live in the castle anymore.” He said with a sinking feeling in his heart. There would no longer be sleepovers in each other's rooms or secret sneakouts to the roof of the castle to look at stars and talk about unimportant things. Royal overseers didn’t stay in the castle once the monarch was betrothed after all.

“What will you do when you’re 25?”

“I’ll plan your wedding and then find a different job. I’m sure it’s not that hard to get hired when you’ve worked for the royal family.”

“Are you still going to be the godmother of my heirs?”

“No, that has to be a noble. You know that.”

“But you promised!”

“Yeah, when I was like 10. Before I had this job. Back when I was an homeless orphan.” She cringed at that last word.

Percy took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly “I didn’t know any better or any of the rules. But I do now.” Percy sighed sadly; she squeezed his hand in response.

A rare gentle smile made its way onto her face and it shone only for him. In total dorkiness, Percy liked to call it her Percy smile; she never smiled at anyone else that way. It was soft and loving and sweet and understanding and only for him.

“You’re going to be fine. It will all work out. And you’re going to meet one of the Princesses and fall head over heels in love with her and you’ll trust her more than anyone in the world. Even more than me.” Annabeth looked at him evenly in the eyes. She looked so sure; he wasn’t.

“You’re not going to need anyone but her, okay?” Percy couldn’t give a response without outright lying to her or telling her a truth she’d start a lecture over so he settled for nodding. Plus, he made a promise to himself to not lie to her.

“You’re going to be fine.” Annabeth said, gently pushing back his damp hair. Percy sighed and nodded.

He hoped she’d be right.

He had a feeling that he'll always need her, despite what everyone was saying.

And he didn’t know if he wanted to be right or wrong in this situation.

#annabeth chase x percy jackson #percabeth #percabeth fanfiction #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo #royal au #annabeth chase #i ask for your hand in marriage #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfiction writer #fanfic #percabeth fanfic

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dat-fandom-losertown · 4 years

Text

The Drift Between Us

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Chapter 8: The Search

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Hank Anderson x Connor, Gavin x RK900 (Ritch)

Pacific Rim AU

Warnings: Inaccurate/Unfair representation of a therapist (for only 1 paragraph), A physical fight, and I think that’s all?

Word Count: 12,273

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Hey guys, I normally don’t like putting notes before a fic, but I just wanted to apologize for this update taking literal months, and I wanted to thank anyone who’s still around and is still wanting to read this. On with the long-awaited chapter!

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

After Ritch hesitantly peeks through Connor’s journal (which turns out to be admittedly helpful, if not surprising because of the specific note that Ritch is more compatible with Gavin despite the fact Ritch had always made sure Connor wasn’t in the area when they started picking at each other, the one exception being during the Alex fiasco) and adds his own information to it, he goes to lunch.

He ends up spending most of his meal time talking with the Jericho Squad (and he doubts he’ll ever not internally cringe whenever they unironically call themselves that) about therapy and what generally makes a good therapist and a bad one. It’s actually quite helpful. Helpful enough, in fact, that after he and Connor take two written evaluations directly after lunch– with the second one having significantly harder and oddly specific questions that he’s sure they both got some wrong– he initiates a relatively unstressful talk with his brother about general types of therapists.

They end up agreeing that they absolutely don’t trust strangers with anything personal, which will make this entire endeavor harder than it probably should be since the therapist will be a stranger. They also surprisingly agree on what type of therapist they think they’d prefer to have, despite their very different personalities. Neither twin mention that this may be because the warm, casual nature of the person they’re both hoping for is nearly the opposite of how Amanda always treated them, but it does vaguely show up in Ritch’s unsettling dreams that night.

The next morning, on his way to breakfast, Ritch almost predictably runs into Gavin. However, instead of immediately getting into another round of gibes, Gavin is so wrapped up in whatever he’s doing that he doesn’t acknowledge Ritch at all. He supposes that even the pilots with shorter tempers have actual work to be done, so the trainee doesn’t question it and moves on. Ritch refuses to believe that the negative emotion he feels because of the lack of attention from Reed is disappointment. Just another thing to shove away and forcibly forget about for the preferably indefinite future.

The strength tests after breakfast definitely help with keeping him distracted from therapists and Gavin and anything else he’s shoved away from his mind so well that he can no longer recall what they are (but he knows they’re there. He can feel them trying to cause him more stress and uncertainty, but all he has to do is pointedly not think about that vague feeling and they can’t bother him). Chloe doesn’t show a reaction or share their results during the strength evaluations, so he doesn’t know if they’re just average or if they scored close enough to what they had before that no input is needed. Yet another thing to add to the “don’t think or worry about it right now” pile.

Thankfully, or unfortunately, depending on the point of view, he forgets about everything in that mental pile except for one thing after he finishes dinner. The therapist search. He and Connor have separate people they’re going to check out, since Marshal Fowler said it would be better for them to not have the same therapist. Both he and Connor readily agreed.

When Ritch arrives at his appointment, the older man only greets him and introduces himself as Dr. Johnson before getting right down to business. That isn’t anything more than a rub in the wrong direction, but when Ritch gives an honest but simple request, “I’d rather not give any personal information before I know you’re right for me,” the man starts assuming possible situations that could be the reason why Ritch is here without letting him properly speak. Again, Ritch doesn’t have a particular problem with this– he certainly won’t be choosing this man– but Mr. Johnson then ignores Ritch when he requests that they get back on topic and instead takes that as a “clue” that he is “getting close” to the “real reason” and starts spewing even more ridiculous bullshit.

(As if he, of all people, would have had any time or desire at all for a romantic relationship growing up, and that he would’ve been be vengeful, of all emotions, if “she” died in what would be considered a freak accident. As if he even knows if he’s interested in women exclusively or at all. It’s not like he’s had the time or desire to experiment with relationships or even the idea of them.)

Ritch ends up so tense with frustration that he gets up and leaves long before the session is supposed to end, ignoring the calls behind him. He will not put up with someone who won’t listen to him, not again. Not if he has any control over it, and Marshal Fowler and Chloe had guaranteed that he does.

After those short 15 minutes, he reluctantly decides to get some outside help, and there’s only one person he can think of that would have both the information he’s looking for and the potential willingness to help– even if it’s only for Connor’s sake.

He’s surprised to see the man he planned on looking for during breakfast. After a beat of hesitation, he figures that the sooner he asks the better, and heads over to a table with only one, familiar figure sitting at it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.”

The ex-pilot doesn’t turn around to face Ritch or sit up from being hunched over his food, and huffs in lieu of a greeting. That isn’t unexpected, though, since it is a well-known fact that Mr. Anderson normally doesn’t get out of bed until lunch is already being served. It would almost make Ritch feel guilty for bothering the exhausted man if he weren’t also concerned about himself and Connor being eaten alive by strangers who claim they want to help.

Mr. Anderson suddenly turns his head towards Ritch, as if just realizing something. “I thought I told you to call me–”

Ritch sees the shock on his face when he registers his blue eyes instead of Connor’s brown ones. He probably should have waited to call out to him until he was seen and couldn’t be mistaken for his twin, but he didn’t want to spook the older man by appearing in front of him without warning. There’s nothing to do about it now, though, so Ritch tries his best to offer what could be an apologetic smile, but could also very well look like an awkward grimace.

He’s not well versed in showing proper emotions yet since he’s only had a day or so of practice. Simon and Josh are trying their best to teach him so he doesn’t look angry at the press if/when he’s announced as a new jaeger pilot, but so far it’s been an uphill battle.

He doesn’t voice any of those thoughts when he addresses Mr. Anderson again. He is not like his twin, who gets nervous and overshares and rambles as a result. He has more self-control.

“I apologize for interrupting your meal, but may I ask you for a favor? Or rather, offer to owe you one in exchange?”

Something curious yet cautious glints in Mr. Anderson’s eyes. “What kind of favors?”

“The kind of equivalent exchange. I may be out of line to ask this, but you do have experience with the therapists and such here, yes?”

“Why the hell do you want to know.” Mr. Anderson snaps and sits up defensively, but it doesn’t bother Ritch. He was expecting this and more to come.

“I would like to know which ones Connor and I should avoid.” Seeing Mr. Anderson’s blatant confusion, Ritch figures Connor hadn’t mentioned these trial meetings to him and explains further. “We started mandatory therapist jumping yesterday and the one I started with was pushy, impatient…” He purses his lips and looks to the side. “I generally try to avoid using words like “unpleasant” when describing people, but that’s the most accurate word I can use for him.” Ritch pauses long enough to look him in the eye. “Of course, if you do trust me enough to tell me these things, then I’ll let you cash in a single favor from me whenever you’d like.”

Mr. Anderson snorts and turns to his food again, trying and failing to not let his surprise show. Is he surprised because Ritch wants his help, even though he can count their interactions on one hand? He can’t imagine it being anything else, especially since he knows of some of their issues from Connor apparently mentioning and/or actually talking about them with the older man. Maybe his twin downplayed their experiences again despite being much more anxious than usual recently?

God, this is way too much thinking for someone who’s been actively trying to not think for the past several weeks, years even.

“Lemme guess, a favor within reason, right?” Mr. Anderson jokes sarcastically after a few moments.

“I am not my brother or your old partner.” Ritch states.

Mr.Anderson looks up at him at that, very still with slightly raised eyebrows, probably asking “Does that mean what I think it does?” silently. Ritch answers the assumed question with a slight upwards tilt of his head, “Yes.”

Ritch has far less of an issue than Connor does with doing things that don’t exactly follow the rules. Not that his brother has any particular issue with breaking the rules, he just doesn’t like to anger people because he seems to have trouble making them not angry anymore. Ritch, on the other hand, usually knows exactly how to placate and bargain with most types of people, and thus he has very little apprehension of doing things against the rules.

Mr. Anderson hesitates for a moment before nodding his head to the chair in front of him, saying, “Go and sit down. Should I wait for Connor before I start or–”

“Wait for me to start what?” Ritch’s shoulders stiffen in surprise, but he quickly relaxes them again. He didn’t hear Connor behind him over the white noise of the food court. ”If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

Ritch turns to his twin. “Mr. Anderson has agreed to tell us about some of the therapists here so we can narrow our search. Did you have a pleasant experience with yours yesterday evening, Connor?”

He knows Connor catches the silent apology in his tone for ignoring him yesterday when his brother wanted to “compare results”, as he called it. Ritch needed to focus on how to get the tight-lipped Anderson to talk about something he likely would rather not. This is all rather straightforward and easy compared to what Ritch thought he was going to have to do.

Connor answers as he sits down in the chair to the left of Ritch and places a steaming cup near Mr. Anderson’s tray, “I wouldn’t call it pleasant, but I wouldn’t call it unpleasant either. I believe Dr. Amelia Johan would be suitable enough if there were few or no other options. What about yours?”

Ritch feels his expression darken slightly and has to stop himself before he clears it, then he ignores how vulnerable and awkward he feels in order to exaggerate the emotion. According to Josh and Simon, not immediately returning his face back to neutral makes him seem more human, as mildly insulting as it was to insinuate that he wasn’t human for keeping his thoughts more private. It’s one of the things they insisted he work on, though.

“Avoid appointments with Mr. Johnson.” Ritch states plainly, pretending he doesn’t see Connor’s concerned look and body language out of the corner of his eye.

Hank snorts in agreement. “You were right to call that man pushy. Pushy and he never lets the conversation be turned to himself or give you a break for even a second. It’s like talking to a wall that always insists you got mental work to be doin’.” He shakes his head, “I guess it works for some people… From what I heard, the roughest appointment with him is the first one, especially if you don’t work with him, but I wouldn’t know.” he finishes with a shrug.

Connor frowns. “That’s pretty much the opposite of what we’re looking for.”

That visibly grabs Mr. Anderson’s attention. “You’re both wantin’ the same kind of shrink?”

Connor nods with what looks like amusement in his eyes, “It was a surprise to us as well.”

“We’d prefer someone who is kind and more casual rather than always controlling where the conversation goes.” Ritch finishes.

“You’d probably like Alicia Steinfield or Alexander White, then,” the older man informs immediately. “If they even still work here, that is. And avoid Johnson–” he gestures to Ritch “–obviously, and Dustin Payne and Felix Antúnez. They’re pretty strict and prefer to follow the ‘therapy is only about work’ policy. I didn’t like them much, either.”

The ex-pilot takes a slower, almost exaggerated bite of what’s left of his breakfast. Ritch wonders if that’s a normal thing for him and Connor, because his brother, without seemingly realizing it, starts eating his own previously ignored breakfast. Interesting.

“Dr. Steinfield and Dr. White.” Ritch forces himself to nod as he commits the names to memory because that’s apparently a normal, human thing to do according to Markus.

Connor turns to face Ritch. “Do you think we could request to change our schedules so we can meet them this afternoon instead of the ones we had previously?”

“I’m willing to try. After we finish breakfast.” Ritch adds as Connor moves to get up. “I’m sure they’ll at least let us skip anyone with a similar... technique as Dr. Johnson.”

Connor nods, settles back in his seat, and starts shoveling food in his mouth in a way that Amanda would definitely disapprove of. Ritch simply sighs and turns to finish his own food in a more respectable-sized bites. He and Mr. Anderson end up making eye contact for a moment, just long enough for the older man to nod at him, and for him to return it.

Getting this information was much easier than he thought it would have been, indeed.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Once Ritch finishes his own food and leaves with the message that he’ll be going to the training room after requesting a meeting with whoever’s in charge of setting up their appointments, Connor quickly swallows his large bite of food. Speaking with a full mouth isn’t a habit he particularly cares about if other people do it (he’s had to sit through too many meals with too many “important” people who do that to truly care anymore), but he hates doing it to others. Besides, Hank may put up with his weird eating habits (some days, like today, he’ll shovel his food in his mouth because he can’t get enough, and other days he’s barely able to force down several nibbles), but he's pretty positive the ex-pilot draws the line at seeing what he’s chewing.

“Thank you.” Connor says, not hiding any of his sincerity or gratitude.

Hank harrumphs and looks away. “I did that for more selfish reasons than you think, Connor. You don’t need to thank me.”

Connor simply raises an eyebrow. “If I know you as much as I’d like to think I know you, I know that if you didn’t really want to surrender that information, no amount of bribing from Ritch would have gotten you to tell us.” Hank’s head snaps up at that, but Connor pushes on. “And considering that I wasn’t far behind Ritch when coming to the food court, he didn’t have to barter with you very much to get you to agree.”

He doesn’t explicitly say how he’s almost positive that means Hank actually care about people and things, even if he doesn’t realize or want to admit it himself. Hank hates even the mention of himself having any positive emotions for whatever reason. Connor doesn’t understand it, but he hopes to learn at some point in the future when Hank is ready. If he becomes ready.

He almost expects Hank to get grumpy or irritated at him for even insinuating he may secretly be a caring person, but he just sits there and stares at Connor for a few moments. Connor decides against continuing the eye contact, since it usually make things more awkward for Hank when he snaps out of whatever it is that makes him zone out like this occasionally. He turns back to his food. Just as he raises his second bite to his mouth, Hank speaks up with a cautious tone.

“How did you know he offered me something for the information?”

Connor answers easily and nonchalantly, “That’s his tactic for getting something he wants.”

“Huh?”

Connor sets down his fork of food and looks up to study Hank’s confused– and concerned?– face. He figures the full truth of Ritch and Connor having to train themselves to be successful manipulators so they could get nice things while growing up would ruin everything he’s trying to do and be with Hank, will invalidate every single thing Connor has ever done or said to gain the fragile, unsteady trust he’s gotten from him, so he only tells a gross understatement.

“When Ritch wants or needs something from someone he doesn’t know well but trusts enough to not be purposefully difficult or cruel, he offers a favor because he doesn’t know which specific thing that person may want. It’s nice to know that he trusts you enough to not purposefully send him into a situation that will get him hurt in huge trouble.” Connor smiles lightly and takes another bite of food, believing the conversation is over.

“What about you?” Hank’s question pulls him out of his head.

Connor snaps his head up in surprise. “Me? What about me?”

Hank huffs in what sounds like amusement, and the assumption is proven right when Connor catches the slight uplift at the corners of his mouth as he shakes his head.

“How do you get what you want from people?”

Connor only hesitates in his answer because he has a feeling that Hank will not like it.

“I like to do most things on my own without needing to ask for anything because I like the sense of accomplishment, so I usually only needed to pull little tricks when Amanda needed sponsors for something and Ritch and I decided to split up. In those cases...” Connor glances away.

“People like giving things to people and creatures that look innocent, helpless, and fragile, like small children or puppies or kittens. Even on a subconscious level, people like having something to temporarily protect, whether it’s because of the ego boost or just because they’re a nice person and like to help. Even if everyone knows that I am the opposite of fragile and I’m certainly not helpless or childish, I tend to appear so when in uncomfortable situations, so it helped me gain pity points when making the rounds for sponsors.”

“Is that part of why you get anxious if people don’t like you? The sponsorship stuff?” Hank’s winces, like he didn’t mean to say it, probably knowing how quickly this question could make things go wrong, but did anyway.

But Connor doesn’t feel the same suffocating pressure he knows he’d feel if anyone else– even Ritch– had asked this same question. He knows Hank hates people, and that he hates gossip even more. He knows Hank isn’t asking him this to judge him or anything of the sort. If anything, he’s asking out of curiosity that has mixed with the same protectiveness that he showed when he gave him the weighted blanket and the stress ball, that leaked in his voice when he asked how old Connor was that same day.

As much as he has been subtly pushing to get closer to Hank, Connor is only now realizing how safe and calm he feels around him compared to how he feels around the people closer to his age. It’s not logical by any means for someone who is unstable (hopefully only temporarily) to get along with someone who is easy to anger and snap– Ritch has made that beyond clear since the very beginning– but for some reason, it’s working for them. He doesn’t know how or why, but it is, and he’d really rather not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Hey, Connor, you don’t have to–”

“I don’t know.” Connor quickly says, needing to interrupt Hank’s obvious attempt to take back the question.

After a short moment of pondering, though, he sets his elbow on the table and his head in his palm, continuing in a casual tone, “I don’t actually know, I’ve never thought about any of it before.” He huffs a laugh that lacks humor, lowering his hand and turning back to his food. “That’s probably why I have to find a mandatory shrink, huh? To get me to analyze this with this stuff?” He shakes his head. “Ritch is not going to like this one bit, and it’s going to get much worse before it gets any better.”

“Yea.” Hank says with obvious discomfort. It snaps Connor’s attention back on him. “Yea, it probably will be. You uh, you even okay enough for the shit that’s about to pile on ya? Especially 'cause you’re apparently going straight into a jaeger once you’re declared ready for it. Skipping training and all.” he asks with false nonchalance. Connor has no clue why Hank is asking these questions when he usually avoids this kind of thing like the plague, but he answers anyway.

“I know I’ve been a nervous wreck since we first got here, but that’s mainly because Ritch and I have never been anywhere near as busy and overwhelming as this place can be. And it certainly didn’t help that we were trying our best to blend in with the herd and not stand out when we’ve spent the last decade learning how to do the exact opposite. Now that we’re slowly getting used to this place and not having to worry about holding back anymore, we’ll be able to show everyone exactly why we were able to graduate from this program so young.” he finishes confidently, head up and back straight.

Hank just looks at him for a moment. Right as it starts making Connor unsure about his answer and has him coming up with things to distract from his bold statement, Hank nods and starts clearing his area. The ex-pilot makes eye contact with him with a strange, earnest look he doesn’t think he’s seen from the older man before.

“I hope you will, Connor. Show ‘em what ya got.”

Hank turns and leaves, leaving Connor with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

The first thought that comes to mind after his thoughts have slowed down enough is man, I wish I had someone to tell about this. Of course, he’s sure that Simon, Markus, and Josh would listen (not North, though), but they wouldn’t understand why this is a big deal, especially since they still don’t seem to like Hank very much. For that same reason, Connor certainly can’t go to Ritch about this either, even with the fact that Ritch now voluntarily owes Hank a favor. Owing something to someone is different than tolerating them enough to listen to a twin get excited over the tiniest bit of encouragement and support from them.

Connor quickly finishes his meal and cleans up before heading to the training area. If he’s going to prove to everyone that he deserves to stay here even though he and Ritch have lied multiple times on things that definitely should have gotten them thrown out, then he’s going to need a good partner.

Traci is a good choice– and Connor’s first on his list– but she and Ritch get along easier with one another than she does with Connor. He doesn’t know exactly why, but she’s very hesitant around him and the atmosphere between them is awkward more often than not, so that’s probably a no-go. Jeremy could possibly work too, but his combat skill is too far behind for Connor to feel comfortable approaching him with something like offering a partnership. Plus, he doesn’t know much about his personality beyond “quiet” and “reserved”, so that is a bit of an issue. He’ll have to start some conversations with the other people on his list before he can properly narrow down–

“Connor! Hey!”

Unbothered by the interruption, he spins to greet Markus, then waves to Simon, North, and Josh who are close behind him. He pauses to let the four of them catch up before continuing on or saying anything.

“I don’t think we’ve actually talked since the morning after the party. How have you guys been holding up with the training regime?” Connor asks with a smile.

“It’s been hell,” North immediately complains, “and I know we haven’t even started the hard-core stuff yet. We’re just getting into shape and learning basics.”

Markus nods in agreement, “You and Ritch are lucky you get to skip this.”

“Maybe not so lucky…” Simon interjects, “That just means they’ve done all of this at an earlier age.”

Don’t panic, don’t panic. They mean nothing by it, just don’t panic and make things weird, Connor chants to himself as he forces himself to answer aloud calmly with a shrug.

“It wasn’t too bad. We were children with lots of energy when we started doing what you guys are doing now.”

North and Josh nod together. It’s the first time he’s ever seen the two agree on something before. It’s almost frightening.

“Traci started her self-defense and karate lessons when she was young, so it makes sense.”

There’s a silence that Connor would describe as calm or peaceful that lasts for a few moments. He counts it as a win that he has managed to not visibly freak out like he is internally. He messes with his hair for a second to give his hands something to do in the hopes that maybe they’ll stop shaking if he does. Markus must catch the nervous movement for what it is, though.

“You alright, Connor?”

“Yea, I’m fine.” He plans on stopping there, but then he realizes that these four people are probably the best people he can go to for advice on making friends and finding potential partners. “I’m just worried about finding a partner, I guess. As you could probably tell, I normally don’t do too well around people I don’t know well.” Connor chuckles softly, but even he can tell that it’s somewhat off.

“Any chance we could help with that?”

Connor mentally blesses Simon as he says, “If you don’t mind, that would be amazing.”

Josh smiles and comes around to Connor’s other side. “So what do you need help with?”

He barely stops himself from saying everything short of learning the English language.

“How did you guys know you could be compatible with one another? Because Ritch and I are technically compatible, but in reality we aren’t.”

“So the difference between working well with another person and being drift compatible, you mean?” Simon clarifies, and Connor nods graciously. “I guess you wouldn’t have to learn too much about that since you were supposed to pair up with Ritch all along, huh?

When Connor nods once more– again very thankful that Simon is insightful enough to figure this out without having to make Connor struggle to get a proper explanation out– Markus begins the explanation.

“Well, I guess one difference is how well you know a person. Obviously, people who have known each other for longer are naturally going to be more compatible because they can be more in sync, but what we’re learning now in class is that that alone just isn’t enough to become jaeger pilots. Skill and mindset play huge roles in it too.”

“Like the Hallowitts.” North offers. “They get along great and are as close as siblings can realistically be, but they are, by far, the least compatible pair in that room. I’d be surprised if they last another week here.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” North snorts and Markus smiles at Connor’s wording, but he forces himself to pay it no mind. “As much as I’d like to think that everyone has an equal chance here, they just don’t. There’s a reason passing rates of the jaeger training are so low, and even those who pass aren’t guaranteed to become pilots.”

Josh nods, “Exactly. Now, that being said, there are rare cases of two people who have never met being perfectly compatible.”

“I guess the difference is how you mentally click with a person,” Simon jumps in, “Like you and Ritch don’t dislike one another, but you also don’t really get along or understand each other, right? Maybe at one point you did, but not anymore. You guys aren’t drift compatible because your mentalities and coping mechanisms are just too different, even though you both grew up in the exact same circumstances and have complimenting skill sets.”

“So I find someone who understands the crazy things I do in certain situations and why I do it?” Connor asks dubiously.

“And someone that can keep up with you, because damn, Connor, you and Ritch whooped each other’s asses on that first day.”

Connor sighs heavily. He still has the aches from a couple of the worse bruises left over when he touches them, even though there are no more marks, because there hasn’t been any other training or exercises that have given him new bruises and scrapes so he can ignore the old ones. Don’t get him wrong, it’s nice to not have something he needs to actively ignore, but it’s yet another difference from what he grew up with and more proof that he’s in a completely different world now.

Connor sighs again, with this one coming out as more of a groan than a true sigh. Where the ever loving hell is he supposed to find someone who can not only keep up with him in skill and not drag him down constantly, but also understand him and his trauma (if what Dr. Johan was going on about in their meeting yesterday is actually true for him, anyway) enough to know when to leave Connor alone and let him to his thing and when to step in to help.

Ritch is relatively good at doing so, mainly because Connor usually likes being left alone, and Ritch always leaves him alone, but he doesn’t seem to understand Connor at all or care to learn the intricacies of him. He also doesn’t seem interested in letting Connor see any side of him that isn’t practically programmed by Amanda (the level of shock he felt when he saw and heard Ritch actually bantering with none other than Gavin Reed during the “Alex knifing” almost hurt. Why did it take such a publicly known asshole to bring out any kind of personality in Ritch? Why couldn’t Connor after his years of trying?).

If his own brother can’t understand, then how can he expect anyone else to understand when they won’t have a clue of what he’s been through until it’s too late. He already opens old wounds over and over again with god-awful memories whenever he gets into a mood dip, he doesn’t want to scar anyone else who wouldn't even know what to expect, or worse, they think they do know what to expect. Although, how can they when he can barely think about it in his own head without going into panic-and-shutdown mode?

“Hey,” Markus brushes his hand against Connor’s arm, gently bringing him out of his thoughts. He gets too lost in them too often.

He nudges Markus’ hand kindly and says in a tone much more tranquil than he feels, “I’m alright. Just thinking of possible candidates.”

“And?” North smirks. Count on her to try to lighten dark or awkward moods.

“I’ve got pretty much nothing.” Connor chuckles much more genuinely than last time. If it has a tad bit of hysteria mixed in like he feels like it might, then no one reacts to it.

At the four’s light insistence, he agrees to tell them why he believes he won’t match with anyone. He can’t look up from the floor at all. He tries to for half a second, but that makes everything so much worse about this situation, so he stares at his boots. If he tries hard enough, maybe he can forget that trying to explain this exact thing just a few weeks ago is what left him self-bedridden for a couple of days; maybe if he ignores hard enough, he can pretend that he’s talking to himself and there are only his footsteps instead of five sets in total. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he stops so the other four have to stop too if they want to listen. No more footsteps, problem partially solved.

He can’t procrastinate that answer anymore.

“I don’t know if you’ve been told this already, or if it’s just common sense to people, but in the drift, you share every single memory with person you’re pairing with. Certain events get more attention than others, obviously, and there is no known way to control what they both see or for how long. You just live through the other person’s memories as if you’re looking back on your own, and then look back on your own while a presence hovers over your shoulder and someone else’s emotions and reactions to events flow through the drift.” He takes another deep breath; his heart rate is getting too fast and his head is feeling too light.

“And with that being said, I’ve got some real bad memories. Bad enough that Amanda used to try and convince me that they were just vivid nightmares. I think Ritch believes it’s a dream for whatever reason– or maybe he’s still on her side or something?– I don’t know, but it doesn’t work for me. I still can’t talk about it, but thinking like that and trying too hard to bury it is what made me break and sent me in that mood dip a while ago.”

He finally gets the courage to look up at the others and struggles to force his breathing to stay deep and slow. It helps that they only look concerned and surprised, rather than literally any other emotion his head was coming up with– fear and disgust, to name a couple. Although, he doesn’t know if the shock is a reaction to the information about what the drift is like, or to the fact that he’s actually talking instead of running and hiding in his room like he so desperately wants to.

“I don’t want to scare anyone. I can’t live through those memories– not now, anyway– so how can I expect someone else to?” Connor shakes his head, trying to ignore the nausea that’s slowly but steadily growing. “I don’t even know how Ritch is gonna do it. I mean, the only people besides us who really know about this are you guys and–”

Hank.

Hank, who let him sit at his table on Connor’s first day even though he had a reputation of eating anyone who came near him alive, and had nearly done so to Connor at first. Hank, who stepped in and helped make him eat after his mood dip even though they had barely known each other for a couple days at most; who, almost immediately after, lead him back to his bunker (a place no one has been to in a long, long time, supposedly) so he could give him a weighted blanket and stress ball. Hank, whom Connor told he lied on essential paperwork when Hank was giving him a snack from his stash (another unheard of thing) and decided to tell Marshal Fowler to give him and Ritch a second chance instead of to get rid of them. Hank, who, despite saying weeks earlier “You’re still a kid to me”, had asked Connor to call him by his first name and has always treated him like a proper adult even though he is quite literally the youngest person on this base.

Hank, who apparently loves (or at least used to love) dogs and, if the laugh lines and obvious protective instincts are anything to go by, used to be a kind, giving fellow who would laugh and smile easily; who now has to drown his traumas with alcohol and alcohol-induced sleep, not unlike how Connor drowns his own haunting memories with mind-numbing sleep brought by high-grade sleeping oils.

No one makes– has ever made Connor as comfortable as he does, for whatever reason. It’s been years since anyone has been able to break down Hank’s walls like Connor has been doing effortlessly these past few weeks. They both have their issues, but Connor thinks that could help if they were to ever enter the drift together. Hank wouldn’t be scarred by his memories, and Connor doubts the ex-pilot’s memories could affect him any more than his own traumas affect him now. Besides, Connor has a feeling that he won’t be declared ready-for-battle as quickly as Ritch will be, so that’s plenty of time to wear Hank down, right?

It’s not like the ex-pilot needs to do too much to get back into shape, anyway. Years and years of doing something over and over again makes every single technique and maneuver pure muscle memory that can’t truly be forgotten. That mixed with the fact that Connor based a lot of his own combat style on Hank’s and Marshal Fowler’s from when they were still active, they might fight better together than people would think. Plus, and Connor doesn’t think anyone else has noticed this between them averting their eyes from him and the hoodies he normally wears, but Hank is still rather built under that beer gut. He could probably carry Connor across the base if he really wanted to.

Scratch that, he absolutely could if he tried, easily. He almost wants to test that some day. Maybe. Possibly.

“Uhh, Connor? You good?” Josh tentatively

Connor shakes his head in wonder. “Yea, actually. I…”

He pays close attention to himself, how his breathing is back to normal, the nausea and lightheadedness are almost gone, and he only just now realizes that his hands were shaking again because they don’t feel that way anymore. Yea, his heart rate is still a little high, but give it a few minutes and even that’ll be back to normal.

He doesn’t trust this.

“I feel fine. Way calmer than a minute ago.” He adds doubtfully, scrutinizing his own steady hands as if they can give him the answers he wants. “I think I found someone I may be compatible with, but I don’t even know if he’ll want to pair with me to pilot a jaeger. But even that made me feel better.” He looks around at the small group with uncertainty. “I’ve rarely calmed down that fast in my life, and never outside of my own room where I can be left alone to think.”

North steps forward and carefully places a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Seems like you’re the plannin’ type of guy. You always feel better when you have a plan, and hate when you don’t, right?”

Based on everyone’s light laughter and large smiles, he doesn’t hide his amazement and realization well enough. That makes sense, though, because he wasn’t trying very hard in the first place.

“That… That makes a lot of sense. Perfect sense.” Connor smiles.

He gestures forward, signaling that he’s ready to keep moving, and they all do happily. Connor doesn’t really stop thinking about how he could possibly get Hank to at least test their compatibility and get him warmed up to the idea of un-retiring.

He doubts that Marshal Fowler would have a problem with helping him get Hank jaeger-ready if Connor can somehow prove their compatibility and Hank’s willingness to start piloting again. If he would have a problem with it, he doesn’t think Hank would be on the base anymore, let alone still bunking in the jaeger pilots’ hall. Marshal Fowler doesn’t seem to be the type to play favorites and put friends first, but Connor could always be wrong.

As he slowly forms a plan in his head, he slowly becomes more at ease. It’ll take more in-depth thinking and several pages in his notebook, but where before he only had a vague hope, now he has a small chance, and that’s slowly becoming just enough for Connor.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Gavin is getting real tired of all this snooping around. He’s normally the type of guy to fling himself right into the thick of things and deal with the repercussions later; not because he doesn’t care about what kind of trouble he’ll get into later– at least not anymore– but because he doesn’t have enough patience to sit still and do nothing even though he knows there’s bad things going on.

He tried to convince himself over the past couple of days to just do as Luther and Fowler said and not get involved in the “Alex Knife Supplier” case, as he’s been calling it in his head, but nothing has happened to his top suspects at all and he doesn’t want those assholes to get away scot free. It’s one thing to just be an asshole, it’s another to actively endanger the lives of coworkers and allies. Even he knows that.

There’s still 20 minutes left of breakfast and he still hasn’t eaten or even entered the food court because he’s been too busy watching those assholes from afar in the hopes that he can catch anything that can bring up more of a case against them. He’d rather not tussle with them until he knows he can get into their bunker and confiscate whatever the fuck is in there, but right now it’s starting to look like he’ll have to tussle with them if he wants any evidence at all.

“What are you doing, Reed?”

Gavin instinctively spins around and throws a punch right at the man’s throat, but it’s expertly caught by none other than the Ritch Bitch. After a split moment of surprise from having his punch properly caught, rather than blocked or deflected (which other people have trouble doing sometimes), Gavin instantly scowls and rips his fist away from the other’s grip, silently hoping the goody-two-shoes decides against reporting him for assault or something like that.

“Don’t fuckin’ sneak up behind me, asshole,” he sneers, “And it’s none of your god damned business. So fuck off.”

Ritchie raises an unimpressed eyebrow– since when does this dude emote?– then tilts his head at him like a fucking dog. He shifts his gaze to the group Gavin’s been watching for the past hour.

“Isn’t that the group Alex hung around before he was thrown out?” he asks in a weird tone, almost as if he was aiming for interest or teasing and fell flat.

Gavin’s eyebrows rise in surprise for just a moment before settling back into a scowl. He hates how many times this prick has caught him off guard today.

“M’ surprised you even know that. Thought you were too busy bein’ the top of your class to pay attention to what the others were up to.” he turns back to the group, watching them laugh about something Gavin would probably want to punch them over.

Ritch steps closer to him, inviting himself into Gavin’s cover like an asshole, as he explains, “If anything, being the top of my class means I need to pay closer attention to the other trainees, since I’m somewhat a tutor and an example for them. But that’s besides the point, I know someone as impatient and conflict-hungry as you wouldn’t wait in the shadows without a good reason. What are you waiting for, hm?” the asshole taunts. At least he sounds more normal now. Gavin doesn’t know why, but it was really unsettling before.

He huffs irritably, but doesn’t immediately taunt back. He may as well tell a part of it. If Ritch is right about being top of his class, then maybe he’ll have some new input, as much as Gavin hates the thought of needing someone else’s help. A mission completed with someone’s help is better than a mission failed with escaped villains, after all.

“I think they had something to do with how Alex got his knives.”

To his surprise, Ritch just nods in solemn agreement. “What’s stopping you from interrogating them?”

Gavin huffs again, this time in irritation at the situation. “Fowler.”

“Ah. You’re not supposed to get into it, but nothing has happened yet, yes?”

Gavin whips his head around to glare at the human robot. He suddenly can’t be sure that that’s the expression his face actually makes, though, because the annoying asshole just nods like he’s confirming something to himself again.

“Have you tried getting into their bunker to check for clues yourself?”

When Gavin huffs, it comes out less irritable and more incredulous of how stupid this guy can be.

“If I could do that I wouldn’t be fucking bothering with this, now would I?”

The trainee just sighs and says, “Come on,” with a beckoning wave of his hand, then turns around and starts walking away. Gavin doesn’t move.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? And why the fuck should I follow your ugly ass?”

“If you want to be caught and get us in some serious trouble, then sure, keep talking that loudly. Also, I’m almost interested in seeing the asses you’re used to looking at if you think mine is ugly.”

Gavin barks a laugh that has very little amusement. What makes him think he can just start controlling the show out of nowhere like this?

“You? Trouble? Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the golden child of the current gaggle of recruits or something?”

Ritch spins around and looks at Gavin with an obviously forced smug and mischievous smile. “If you honestly believe that, then you’re just like everyone else here and have no clue how wide my skill set actually is.” He turns back around and starts walking again. “Come or don’t come, I don’t care.”

It takes a second for Gavin’s brain to reboot because it’s obvious Ritch is obviously trying something new here and holy mother of god is it making him uncomfortable. This is not the Dicky Ritchy (that name was more than a stretch, never again) he’s been messing with for the past week or so. Once his head does reboot, though, his curiosity of what the hell baby-face is going to do and the irritation that he thinks he can one-up Gavin again wins over standing by the entrance of the food court and watching a bunch of assholes laugh a ways away as if they don’t realize they’re the scum of the earth.

He speed-walks to catch up to Ritch, because it’ll be a cold day in hell when he’s seen running or jogging anywhere that isn’t to a jaeger or a kaiju. Once he makes it to Ritch’s side, the other speaks in a soft tone.

“I don’t actually know where their bunker is, so you need to lead the way, unfortunately.” Gavin groans, but still pulls ahead slightly to lead. “How much time do you think we have until they return to the room, and are there any cameras?”

Everything about this encounter with Ritch is throwing him the hell off– not just how strange the man is being– but he plays along anyway, never one to turn down some scheming.

“The cameras in the pilot’s hall has been broken for months, maybe years. And the fucksticks will be out of the way for at least an hour. They always stay in the food court until they’re kicked out after breakfast is over, then they go to the gym for a while.” It’s why he avoids the gym like the plague in the morning.

“Perfect.” he smiles with that same forced smile as before. Gavin’s had enough.

“Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’re really startin’ to creep me the fuck out.”

That rips the fake smile right off the robot’s face. Good, that was the main thing bothering him.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

There’s a silent pause, then Gavin’s starts talking partially because he fucking hates silences and partially because he needs to never see that kind of expression on Retch’s (he may actually use that one) face again.

“So if I’m reading this right, you’re doin’ me a favor by apparently getting me into this dorm so I can raid their shit, right?” Ritch nods silently, so he continues, “Good. So I’m just gonna return the favor ahead of time and give you some advice because I hate being indebted to people. Got it, asstown?”

Ritch turns his head to properly look at Gavin, then nods again, slower this time. There’s no smart ass comment to the insult, though, unfortunately.

Gavin immediately launches into a half-taunting half-serious ramble, “Now I’m only gonna say this one time– so you better fuckin’ savor this, ‘cause I don’t do this shit for just anyone– but holy shit you need to stop making faces and using certain tones when you don’t actually want to. Like, you’re known for being a robot. You can’t feel emotions the way the rest of us can, or you just process them or show ‘em differently. That’s your thing, just like my thing’s being a fuckin’ dickwad all the time and Anderson’s is being a depressed drunkard.

“Don’t try to go full human on everyone all of a sudden. Just stay fuckin’ blank if you wanna. Only cowards give in to peer pressure and shit.” Gavin huffs in exasperation. He’s is in a very huffy mood today, apparently. “I don’t like looking at your ugly-ass, baby-faced mug as it is, and it is so much worse when you try to smile or some shit like that when you’re obviously not feelin’ it. It’s fucking unatural is what it is.” He shivers and curls his lip in exaggerated disgust.

Ritch just stares at him for a second, then states in his normal, flat tone, “The only unnatural thing here is how much you smell despite the fact you’ve been standing around and doing nothing for the past couple of days.”

Gavin smiles evilly, secretly thankful that Ritch didn’t try to go down the genuine route and is instead continuing their normal interactions. Of all the nasty names under the sun he could call him, “unobservant” and “stupid” are two he can’t. “Emotionally oblivious” and “ignorant” or “naive”, however, are not off the table.

“No, the unnatural thing here is that you’re a grown ass man and you use fruit-scented lotion.”

Ritch gives him a weird look, but it’s at least genuine, thank god. “I do not use lotion, I simply shower everyday, unlike some people.” He pauses barely long enough to look Gavin up and down before continuing. “It’s not my fault you prefer what is obviously scentless men’s soap when women’s soap smells nicer and is less harsh on skin.” He faces front again.

“Hold on,” Gavin wheezes, “You actually use women’s soap? Like, regularly?”

“What of it? Are you not secure enough in your gender and sexual identity that using a soap with fruity smells that come in colorful bottles is too much for your poor masculine mind to handle? Poor baby.”

Gavin wrinkles his nose. “Hell no. I’m gay as fuck but you still don’t see me using that girly shit. It’s a matter of preference, asshole. And I’m surprised you even know what gender identity even is, since you don’t seem to know much else about real humans.”

Gavin doesn’t realize what he just blatantly admitted to until he’s done speaking. Of course he has to be enough of a dumb ass to officially come out to the one dude who was raised by an old woman. God damn it, he’s probably homophobic. At least it’ll give Gavin a reason to punch him the next time he gets irritated with him.

Either oblivious to Gavin’s internal wariness or somehow reading his mind, Ritch explains in a condescending tone, “Amanda was insistent that we don’t treat people differently just because of how they identify, and one way of doing that was learning proper titles of people who aren’t ‘Male’ and ‘Female’ and other things your small brain would probably get bored with. But good for you for being just a normal ass and not a homophobic one. You’re slightly less likely to get punched now, anyway.”

That… is actually pretty cool, the fact that Ritch apparently has no problem with anyone who isn’t cis-het. It’s a complete plot twist and surprise, but it’s cool to know that the dude would only hate him because he’s him and not because he’s gay. He’s been tired of the homophobic jokes and slurs since the 5th grade, so it’ll be refreshing to have someone that’ll skip right over that genre of insults with him, as refreshing as it can be when they’re ridiculing one another, that is (which can be damn refreshing, if you ask him).

Gavin lets their talk end there as he slows down when they get close to the grease-heads’ bunker. He then silently checks the hall for anyone who could be watching or approaching, and quiets his voice down when he addresses Ritch, keeping a careful ear out for any footsteps or voices. He may be reckless half the time, but he’s not stupid enough to get caught breaking and entering someone’s private dorm.

“Well, asshat, this is it. Work your robot magic and hack us in.”

“It’s actually not hacking of any kind. I would ask if you want to learn how, but I doubt there’s enough room in your skull for a brain larger than a peanut with how huge your ego is.”

An involuntary, offended squawk bursts out of Gavin’s throat, and after a short hesitation where he lets himself be embarrassed before moving on, he smacks Ritch on the arm. “Move over asshole. My ego ain’t that fuckin’ big, asshole, you’re mistaking me for yourself.”

Gavin sees Ritch roll his eyes. “First, look at the keypad, you see the numbers that are more worn down than the others?”

“2, 5, and 7? What about them?” Gavin replies in a more serious tone, suddenly a lot more invested in this than he thought he would be.

“Those are the three numbers that are in the code. Basically, over time, as the same buttons get pushed over and over, the oils and pressure from fingers either wear down the ink of the numbers, or tint the glass over the buttons and give it a tan or brownish look compared to the other clear ones, depending on what kind of keypad it is.”

“Okay then, genius, how do we know the order of the code, ‘cause–”

“I wasn’t done,” Ritch interrupts, “The first button is usually the most worn down since the most oils rub off and degrade it more than the others, but in this case, since there are only three numbers worn down for a four code password, the most worn-down one is the one pressed twice, the next worn down is probably first. And when there are repeat numbers in a code as short as this, they’re rarely one directly after another.”

“So the 2 is repeated, and the 5 is probably before the 7.”

“Yes.”

“What if the twos are actually right next to each other. What if they’re both first and last?”

Ritch actually smirks this time. “I’ll be smart about it and we hope for the best.” Gavin gives him an incredulous look as he continues. “How many tries do we get to do this?”

“Three. If you fuckin’ think you can–”

“Watch and learn.” Ritch interrupts fuckin’ again as he gives his full attention to the keypad.

He tries 5272 first and is denied, then immediately tries 2725 and the door unlocks with a small, green flash of light.

Gavin doesn’t even know how to react. “What the fuck. I thought you said the 5 was first!”

Ritch just nods and opens the door. “ I did, but there are other variables that I don’t feel like going over right now, we don’t have time to waste.” He nods to the door he’s holding open, “You go in and investigate and I’ll stand guard out here. I’ll knock if I think someone is coming so you can get out. Wouldn’t want you to get caught and rat me out to lessen your sentence, or have you get both of us caught in the first place.”

“Ha ha. I’m glad you’re not coming in, anyway. You’d just get in my way, bitch.” He shoves past the trainee, purposely knocking his shoulder into his.

“Close, but no cigar.” Gavin turns and looks at him in confusion. “My name is Ritch with an ‘R’, not a ‘B’. I can understand if you misread it, but mishearing it when you have no documented hearing problems is a different matter altogether.” He sighs dramatically while maintaining his straight face, which is kind of odd to witness, but not the same odd as before. “At least you’re learning, it was closer than ‘Dick’, anyway.” He finishes as he shuts the door.

Gavin flips him off even though he won’t see it, then mumbles, “Fuck off, you prick.”

Gavin quickly looks around the smelly, messy bunker. Time for the fun part.

He knows better than to dig through places aimlessly and move things too much, so he goes to the tiny closets first. It’s crammed with useless stuff, but there’s nothing clearly illegal hiding in there and there doesn’t look like there’s a false back or bottom, so he closes it. The other personal closet is exactly the same– messy, but inconspicuous– so he moves on. He quickly checks under the bed (nothing) and on the top bunk towards the wall (again, nothing) before moving on to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, the first thing that Gavin notices is that the mirror is slightly crooked, which shouldn’t be possible since the medicine cabinet behind it is welded to the wall. He opens it and it’s immediately apparent to Gavin that there is a false back; the cabinet is way thinner and more warped than his and Tina’s are, and all of these things are supposed to be basically identical. The fact that it’s empty only accentuates how wrong it looks because there’s nothing blocking the false back.

He peels it back with ease and behind it is a stack of sheathed knives. Just judging by the handles of these weapons– and the fact that they were (poorly) hidden– they are definitely not pocket knives (the only knives permitted, since they’re mostly used for cutting wires and cables and are smaller, less harmful).

Before he can do anything else about this new discovery, though, he hears the bunker’s door click open and shut again. Gavin’s in the middle of trying to figure out what to do when Ritch barges into the bathroom and grabs his arm.

“Gavin, we need to get out of here!” Ritch hisses and grabs Gavin’s arm right above the wrist and yanks him out of the bathroom.

He tries to yank and twist out of the trainee’s grip, but he isn’t successful. “Give me a second to grab–”

“I don’t care! We need to go. Now!”

Suddenly he’s being shoved further away from the bathroom. He hears the medicine cabinet slam closed, then the trainee tugs Gavin towards the bunker door with more strength than he expected. He tries again to pull his arm out of his grip, but Ritch moves his hand and presses his thumb into the sensitive part of the inside of his elbow. He’s yanked in a direction then hears the bunker door clicks shut behind them along with any possible evidence that he now knows for a fact is in there. He doesn’t even remember the code to the door anymore, all he knows is that the five isn’t first, so he can’t get back in.

He takes a split second to look up and down the hall and sees that it’s completely empty. He could have easily grabbed at least one of those knives. Hell, even using his phone to snap a quick picture of the stack of them with the false back in view would be enough to warrant a search of their dorm– possibly even have them suspended immediately while the investigation starts– and this fucking prick pulled him out for no god damned reason.

Overcome with anger, he blindly kicks out where Ritch’s knee should be. It works. The asshole goes down for only a second before he rolls into a crouched position facing him, his expression angry and hard. He gets up to his feet smoothly, but Gavin isn’t stupid enough to believe that his muscles are actually as relaxed as they seem, they’re combat-ready, and this asshole is three seconds away from getting his fight.

“Gavin, cut it out. We need to go–”

“No! Let me back in you fucking asshole! There’s no one here!” he shouts, spinning with his arms spread out wide, showcasing the nothingness that is in the halls. “You’re just being fucking paranoid. We need those–”

Ritch suddenly punches him in the jaw. Gavin takes two steps back, but quickly rights himself.

“I said. Shut. Up.” Ritch snarls, but his attention is on something behind him, and Gavin uses that to his advantage.

He quickly throws a punch towards Ritch’s collarbone and throat area, but the little devil twists just in time for Gavin to only catch the sensitive part where his shoulder meets his pec.

At least that should bruise real nicely. Get what you deserve, asshat.

He doesn’t get much more time to think about it, though, because there’s suddenly a fist coming straight at his face again, and he ducks. Gavin throws a punch to his gut, but his opponent spins out of the way. He then aims a punch to Ritch’s face, but that gets caught and twisted. He aims a kick at the asshole’s knees before it can get too uncomfortable, and even though Ritch loosens his grip to dodge the attack and he’s able to get his fist free, the trainee doesn’t go down like he wanted.

There’s a moment of hesitation from both of them. It’s only long enough for Gavin to see Ritch scowling and to get himself in the position to effectively whoop some ass. His partner-in-crime-turned-opponent doesn’t take his attention away from him again, and instead uses the moment to study Gavin’s stance. He has no doubt he has the same kind of attentive scowl on his own face right now.

Gavin makes the first move, moving as if he’s going to punch with his right hand when he’s actually planning to go to the left. Disappointingly, Ritch doesn’t fall for it, and catches his arm. Gavin dodges his attempt at tripping him, then aims a blow at the stubborn asshole’s neck. He ends up letting go in order to dodge Gavin’s move, but is back quickly with a punch of his own. He ends up catching and tries to shove Ritch into a more vulnerable position, but he ends up letting go to dodge a kick to his gut.

This guy definitely has more skill than the average trainee, especially for one this new, that’s for sure. Although, that won’t change the fact that he’ll mess up or tire before Gavin will, and he’ll be in a heap of trouble and pain for blowing up the plan.

The only thing that Gavin is able to focus on after that is where the next punch or kick is coming from and where there’s an opening for him to punch or kick back. One one hand, he’s feeling confident because he hasn’t been hit a single time beyond that first jaw punch. He’s been catching, blocking, and dodging all of his kicks and punches. He’s pretty positive that the only injuries he’ll have from this fight are maybe sore hands and some bruises on his arms from the amount of blocking and deflecting he’s doing.

On the other hand, however, Gavin’s really starting to get pissed off because Ritch is taking about as much damage as he is right now, which is none. The damn asshole doesn’t even look tired yet. Not that Gavin’s getting tired– he can keep this pace up for a while longer– but what kind of trainee as new as Ritch is able to keep up with a well-seasoned pilot and brawler? He already knew Ritch was good, but he wasn’t supposed to fucking match Gavin like this in a fight.

Once Gavin accepts that this won’t go anywhere unless he switches things up and stops playing by sparring rules, he lunges forward with most of his weight to punch Ritch in the diaphragm with the hope to knock the wind out of him. It almost works, but Ritch dodges at the last moment and kicks him in the back of the knees as he passes, making Gavin collapse roughly onto his hands and knees. Just before Ritch can pin him down, he shoves himself up into a handstand and his heel narrowly misses the asshat’s jaw as he leans out of the way.

He sees Ritch quickly swoop his leg out to knock his arms out from under him, but Gavin springs up and flips back onto his feet. He spins to face his opponent and aims yet another punch to his face, but it’s caught and isn’t immediately released like before. A hand comes flying towards Gavin’s neck, but he blocks it, grabbing the other’s wrist and twisting his arm down. Ritch suddenly spins himself so his back is facing him, then grabs Gavin’s wrist and yanks him closer. Before he can do anything to prevent it, Ritch shifts his balance and flips him over his shoulder.

Gavin somehow manages to twist himself so he can land in a low crouch and wastes no time in jabbing an elbow back. It doesn’t hit anything, but Ritch does loosen his grip so he get free. Gavin rolls out of the way before he can get kicked down, then grabs Ritch’s ankle as it returns to the floor. He stands, bringing his opponent’s leg up by his shoulder, but instead of toppling over like he expected, Ritch quickly switches his weight to his hands and latches his free leg around Gavin’s middle, and when he lets go of his ankle to shove the menace off, Ritch latches that one around as well. Gavin knows what comes next before it happens, and lets himself be twisted and forced to the floor by Ritch’s weight, allowing him to sit on top of Gavin’s chest.

He lets this happen because he was able to control how he landed, and made sure his feet were planted on the ground just as his back hits the floor. He immediately jerks his entire torso off the ground before Ritch can properly situate himself again, and thus makes him topple over for just a moment. A moment is all Gavin needs, though. He spins onto his stomach and tucks his legs under him at the same time, then rapidly sits up and shoves his head up and back. Ritch dodges the headbutt attempt, and Gavin watches him roll backwards into a standing position as he spins and stands to face him.

In that split moment of stillness where they’re trying to predict each other’s next move, Gavin suddenly realizes that, for the first time in literal years, he’s having genuine fun sparring with someone. It would probably scare him if he weren’t so focused on the surprisingly competent trainee. He doesn’t even have enough room to think about or process why he would or should be scared. God damn Ritch and his god damned surprises at it again, the fucker.

Before Gavin can gather his head long enough to make the first move, Ritch suddenly jumps on him, somehow spinning so his thighs are clamped around his neck and head. He uses his weight to try to topple Gavin over, but Tina tried to do this to him one too many times before, so he knows to go to a wall so he doesn’t immediately go down. He then reaches up to twist and pull Ritch’s knee out to the side with his fingers pressing against the nerve bundle on the inside of it. Judging by the surprised noise Ritch lets out, he wasn’t expecting that, and he starts to slip. He suddenly shoves off the wall, leaving Gavin scrambling to regain his footing while keeping that knee tight in his grasp. Just before Gavin can properly get his balance back, Ritch leans back and slightly to the left, bringing them both down. His plan is faulty, however, because all Gavin has to do is put his hands down and land in a handstand and Ritch’s legs slip past his head, leaving him free to back handspring back onto his feet just as his opponent sweeps his leg where his hands used to be.

Jesus, this is a lot more flipping than Gavin is used to doing. He can’t exactly flip in a jaeger and it’s been years since his gymnastics class.

Feeling that his back is literally to the wall and watching Ritch flip back on his feet, still relatively untouched, he pushes off of it for more momentum, hoping he can take him by surprise or something. Just as Gavin reaches him, the trainee drops on onto his back and twists and curls at the same time. He doesn’t understand why until a boot hits the backs of his ankles hard and forces him down. Just as Ritch pounces to pin him down, Gavin turns onto his back and tucks his legs in. His opponent barely stops himself in time before he springs his legs up, so Ritch doesn’t get launched away like he was hoping. Gavin instead uses that momentum to sloppily flip into a crouch.

He dashes up and nails Ritch in the gut with his shoulder and lifts him off the ground, ready to slam him back down to disorient him. He doesn’t get to because he flips forward out of his grasp. Next thing he knows, there’s an arm in front of his throat and he’s being shoved down and backwards, so he twists so he’ll land on his stomach and breaks his fall. He instantly twists and kicks his leg out to get Ritch on the ground too, but the asshole jumps to his other side. No matter, because now Gavin can wrap both arms just below his knees and he forces the man down hard.

He jumps up to get on top of Ritch, who is already rolling onto his back, but is held back by another set of arms. He immediately lashes out and knocks whoever was holding him back in the head, but it was enough to get his mind out of the fight just enough to understand that they’ve gained an audience at some point. Ritch must not have realized yet, though– or maybe he doesn’t care– because he sets himself into a crouch and Gavin is already shifting his weight to dodge right to avoid getting rammed into–

“GAVIN! RITCH!”

They both instantly freeze and go tense. Ritch’s eyes are wide with alarm and are focused beyond his shoulder. Gavin has a feeling that he and Ritch are thinking the exact same thing.

Oh Shit…

Gavin slowly, cautiously, spins around to face a very angry Marshal Fowler. There are around 15 other people who have apparently been watching the show, if the way Chloe is shooing them away harshly is anything to go by. There’s one burly man who looks like his job is probably moving heavy materials around here who is clutching his bleeding nose.

In an attempt to put off dealing with Fowler for as long as possible– and maybe a little bit because he’s kind of concerned because he didn’t hold back on that headbutt at all– Gavin takes a step towards him.

“Oh. Shit. Your nose isn’t broken, is it–”

“Reed. Stern. My office. Now.” That voice was the worst one. Fowler is usually yelling or “not mad, just disappointed”, but that was the calm angry voice. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t “Gavin” and “Ritch”, it was “Reed” and “Stern”.

Wait, “Stern”? Why does that sound familiar?

Ritch lightly brushes his shoulder, silently urging him to follow the marshal. With one quick glance back to the injured man, who Chloe is now hopefully leading to a nurse, he does. They silently walk side by side and keep close enough to Fowler that he can hear their footsteps following him, but never get closer than five feet, as if they’re afraid he’ll randomly snap and start laying it on them. Who knows, he might. Gavin has never been in a fight that big before.

God damn it, they are so fucked.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: I want to thank everyone who read this again, and thank you all for being so patient with me. I’ve had this chapter almost done since the middle of January and it’s been killing me to not be able to finish it and have it posted. But it was a crazy few months, then some other crazy stuff happened, then quarantine kind of zapped all of my motivation to do anything.

But anyway, I hope this long chapter was worth the disgustingly long wait. I’m going to really try to get an update out every Monday, but I can promise that you’ll never go longer than a month without an update from now on. Comments (even if they’re just as simple as “nice chapter”) do wonders to motivate me! And I also have oneshot requests open to help motivate me! Here’s a list of ships I’ll write for!

Thank you for reading (and powering through me super long note) and I hope you stay safe and have a wonderful day/night! 💕💖

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cadday · 4 years

Text

Collateral Damage - Chapter 6

It’s just about around a week later when he thinks about that conversation with Ansem again. He and Lea are sparring, which is a nice way to say he’s throwing random shit at the kid while the kid tries to use freaking frisbees like a weapon. Bizarre brat needs a better weapon, those plastic nuisances couldn’t protect him from shit. Shouldn’t need protection if Radiant Garden doesn’t fall, won’t fall, can’t…

Braig chucks another stick at the kid, mainly because he’s running out of ammo having exhausted the bouncy balls he commandeered from Ienzo earlier. Which were going to be a pain to pick up but maybe he could push that up on the hot head who just got nailed in the head with said stick he tossed.

Eventually they had petered out into sitting and throwing those bouncy balls back and forth while they took a break for lunch.

“So why is someone trying to kill you? I mean I get you’re an ass but like it’s only half the time.” Braig jumped a bit startled, not expecting the question.

“I’m sorry who’s trying to do what?” He looked at Lea like he had two heads. There was no way the kid had just asked him that.

“The guy who's trying to kill you. It’s why everyone’s weird about things right, and what happened to you, you know. I figure he’s gotta be still around right?” Lea shrugs like this was a completely normal conversation to be having after training for the past hour.

“...why do you figure that?”

“Because everyone is paranoid if you run off for like any amount of time. I heard Master Ansem talking to Dilan about how he thinks someone’s trying to off you or something but you like don’t want to tell them or worry them or something.” Lea looks nervous and he realizes he should probably get on his case about spying, but Lea, Axel, Lea was always so very good at deception and snooping, honestly it could come in handy if the kid had practice, doesn’t matter he’s never going to be in a situation to use.

Braig stares at him before looking down to the ball in his hand. He bounces it off the wall closest to him and catches it. He thinks about how to respond and tries for something close to the truth. Lea isn’t asking him this completely off the cuff, he’s pretty sure Master Ansem has been hinting at them to try to get him to talk and he isn’t sure he blames him. He hasn’t been forthcoming with information but if Lea goes and reports this well that might be better. It means he avoids the other’s trying to get him to explain more and Lea doesn’t seem like he is going to push for more.

“I don’t think he’s still around...He could come back though and sometimes I go to check to be sure he hasn’t.” Lea does look startled. He realises that the kid probably was expecting him to either lie or tell him that everyone was just fussy old worry warts.

“So someone is trying to kill you! Dude that’s fu…” Braig waved a hand at the kid to get him to stop talking.

“Watch your mouth kid, lord knows Even is going to give me an earful if he hears you cursing. He about took my head off for that time Ienzo said the F bomb after an experiment backfired.”

“Oh my god, I would pay to hear Ienzo cuss.” To be honest he thought it was pretty hilarious too but technically it wasn’t appropriate for a kid his age to say things like that. If you're old enough to lose your heart, you're old enough to...

“Anyway the guy wasn’t necessarily trying to kill me, it’s complicated. But let’s go with this, if you see some guy with white hair and yellow eyes you book it out of there, just in case…” Lea seems to consider this so seriously that Braig is shocked the kid is capable of it. But then again he’s been accused plenty of times of never taking anything seriously.

“...okay.” Lea nods like it’s some sort of promise, and Braig kinda hopes that if it comes to it the kid takes it to heart and is gone before any crap hits the fan again. Can’t be again if it never happened to begin with.

The bouncy ball he chucks at Lea nails him in the forehead and Braig literally falls over laughing.

Later Braig convinces Lea to help him clean up the training room, because he was using the balls just as much technically and really hadn’t Braig technically been helping the kid out or something.

The kid disappears to probably go find Isa, and stare at him when he thinks Isa can’t see like he’s made of moonlight or some poetic shit. Braig returns the balls to Ienzo who when asked why he had so many anyway was just told cryptidly that they were for ‘science’. While that was ominous he decided the best choice was not to pry or risk that ‘science’ be directed at him in some way.

Braig ends up outside when evening is getting close, partially because he was feeling restless but also he did obsessively check the place Terra had shown up, hadn’t shown up. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he did appear. He couldn’t just leave him, last time the guy had amnesia, maybe he could convince him he was more Terra then Xehanort, not like there was a keybearer around to…

Red hair girl has. will have, had a keyblade. He stops in the square and just isn’t sure what to do with that thought. The girl was like Ienzo’s age, maybe younger, he couldn’t imagine her fighting much of anything seriously. He has a hard time taking Lea seriously as it is. Terra hadn’t shown up though and might not ever, but something in him, his heart maybe, was telling him that for all things changed for him that Terra, Aqua, and Ventus were not likely as lucky. The girl needed someone to train her though at the very least and if Aqua was gone then she didn’t really have any options. None of the apprentices besides him really had any information about the keyblades and what was to come. There was that mouse king but he wasn’t sure where he even was and how to contact him, or if he would believe him to begin with. Keyblades drew heartless to them and that put the girl and radiant garden in danger. There was no other keyblade wielders running about during this time though…

‘i could.’ Oh right, other heart. And wait what did she mean that she could?

‘teach the girl to use the keyblade.’ Really that was, well not the craziest option all things considered but their in itself lay a serious issue one that had him uncomfortable at the thought.

‘no, you would stay in control. i am not strong enough anyway, but i can teach you to then teach her.’ That was an option but would that even work.

‘it will have too.’ Braig nodded and then realized that he was nodding to himself in the middle of the square probably looking like a crazy person. He quickly continued on to check for Terra but already was certain that he would find nothing. If more heartless appeared he would see to that girl learning the keyblade. Who knew really if it would ever even come to that?

It’s late when he gets back and he tries to ignore the way all the shadows look like they're creeping closer to him the longer he is out. If he all but runs inside the entrance to the castle well everyone should just be thankful he didn’t slam the damn door. Braig tries not to berate himself for being paranoid as he heads to his room. In the hall outside his room is Dilan, which I mean it’s kinda late so that’s surprising, he thought and kinda hoped they would all be asleep. Dilan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask where he was which is kinda a blessing because he didn’t have the time to think up a lie or even an explanation that wouldn’t sound just as much like a lie.

“Hey, what’s up? Missing out on beauty sleep lurking outside my room you know.” Dilan huffs but it’s more a laugh and Braig grins at little victories.

“I found it.” Braig looks at Dilan super confused because he wasn’t aware anything was missing until he’s holding out a red fabric something and it occurs to him that everyone had said he wasn’t wearing something. Carefully he takes it from Dilan’s hand and isn’t sure why he’s being so careful. He can’t even remember what was important about it.

“One of those things, the little monsters that have been around had it. Don’t know why.” Braig nods stiffly and okay that’s weird he guesses but he isn’t sure what to even say to that so yeah just nodding works.

“Thanks.” Is what he ends up kinda croaking out in a response and Dilan nods slowly but doesn’t really go anywhere. Braig just stares at the fabric in his hand and thinks he remembers it hadn’t always been his, there had been someone else who wore it first, someone important and he realizes suddenly that there's a lot he can’t seem to remember. Because Braig can’t recall how he ended up Ansem the Wise’s apprentice, or what his parents' names and faces were, he can’t remember why this piece of fabric is so important, and all of this has him leaning against his door as he tries to calm down. It occurs to him that either he must have known these things at some point, and his heart and the other heart both agree that somethings wrong. So it’s easy to come to the conclusion that this was freaking Luxu’s fault again. Braig is missing parts of himself, memories of things and he might not be able to ever get them back and he would be pissed if he could actually breathe right.

When he finally calms down somewhat he is aware that Dilan is not only still there but sitting next to him with his arm slung over his shoulder in some sort of side hug thing. He thinks that this is embarrassing for a second then decides he does not give a damn and leans more into his friends side.

“It was not my intention to send you into hysterics.”

“Not your fault dude. Kinda my new normal isn’t it?” He tries to laugh but it sounds so fake even he’s cringing.

“Whatever happens you know I’m not, we all aren’t going anywhere. You're stuck with us I’m afraid.” Braig can’t look at him. That was well rough, because they might not ever go anywhere but Braig had. He had been forced to leave them, and he wondered if they had hated him for it, they had to, for abandoning them, betraying them, lying to them. But he hadn’t done that. It hadn’t happened and wouldn’t happen and they would never know. Except he does. He still remembers and it freaking hurts all the time.

“Dude, feeling particularly sappy today. If anyone’s stuck with anyone it’s more like ya’ll are stuck with me. I’m like glitter, you ain't ever getting rid of me.” Braig is still leaning on his shoulder and neither of them move for a while. When they finally go to bed Braig is still gripping the fabric that had been returned to him and he falls asleep holding it to his chest.

#kingdom heart #kairi #braig #luxu #luxu is a dick #dilan #ansem the wise #aeleus #ienzo #even #isa #lea #au #fix it #ptsd #fanfic

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sambart93 · 6 years

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Touken Ranbu The Movie [Review]

It’s finally here! It’s finally arrived! We waited so long and it’s finally here! I’m hoping I can see it at least one more time before it stops at the cinema because it is so good!

NON-SPOILER REVIEW Overall: This was amazing! I absolutely adored and loved so many parts of this movie!! I loved the story, I loved the reinterpretation of history, I loved the twists and surprises (there are so many that you don’t expect!), I loved the action, I loved the colouring, I loved the cinematography and the camera shots, I loved seeing their pretty make up and their pretty faces on a big giant screen! They all looked amazing!! My honest to god only complaint is that (1) there is a very obvious voice dub within the first 15 minutes of the movie; (2) some of the editing and transitions between scenes were just not smooth at all. The editing was really rough compared to how amazingly produced everything else is in this movie. A few cuts really pissed me off and some transitions were so jarring. I do have one more complaint but it’s spoilery so I’ll list that below. But everything else was amazing! Cannot wait for the DVD! Rating: 8/10 if only the editing had been better.

SPOILER REVIEW

Story

We are back at Honnouji no Hen trying to stop the Jikansokougun from interfering with it. You know the story if you’ve read the history and/or watched the first stage.

Now to the spoilers...

The TouDan think they’ve finished off the Jikansokougun and go back to the Honmaru, but in fact there was still one left who grabs Oda and takes him to a safe place. When Oda wakes up he has the whole Jikansokougun army within his grasp and one of the commanders ‘Mume’ can talk to him and stays by Oda’s side. The TouDan realise what’s happened and goes back. While there Jiji actually saves and rans away with Oda. Everyone feels betrayed but they continue their mission of keeping and eye on Hideyoshi. Jiji takes Oda to Azuchi where Hideyoshi raids and tries to burn down (as per the correct history) but again the Jikansokougun interfere.

I’ll stop there so you’re not too spoiled if you did carry on to read more.

Using the star format as usual so it’s easier and quicker for me to get through reviews.

General Comments

☆ This was so BEAUTIFULLY SHOT! Some of the shots are so well done and they all looked so damn pretty! They must’ve had a very nice budget for this movie because it’s visually beautiful, the colouring used is beautiful, so many shots are just PERFECT!

☆ I loved the close ups of all the swords! Being able to see their pretty faces (which had a lot lighter make up than what they wear on stage so their natural beauty shined out more!) so close up was just wonderful ^_^

☆ Also their makeup! I absolutely adored their make up in this!! All of the swords except Nihongo have eyeliner half way across their bottom lashes (yeah this is how good the quality is and how well you can see the makeup and how goddamn observant I am xD). And they all looked SO NICE!

☆ NIHONGO’S ONSIE for uchiba/Internal Affairs is freaking ADORABLE!!!! It’s a freaking Onsie! A ONSIE! I was losing it!! And he looked so good in it too!! It was this freaking adorable great onsie!! I can’t get over this... I can’t! xD

☆ Jiji has plot armour in this movie too as expected because he’s always givemn bloody plot armour. He REALLY should’ve died in this one. Scientifically and by Touken Game standards he SHOULD have died. But alas ‘we can’t hurt the fan favourite precious Jiji’ oh fuck off, hurry up and kill him already! Fuck sake.

☆ I really liked Fuma’s Honebami. Just like the stages, we didn’t get enough time with him. We didn’t really get to know him. But I think something between His and Mitsuya’s Hone is what I expect Hone to be so I like Movie Hone. BUT, Hone should’ve died too by the way. Just from the dire situation he ends up in, he really should’ve been killed and died. It’s not like we can’t bring these swords back!

☆ I died a little when Uguisumaru said his famous line!

☆ Tomoki as Uguisumaru was perfect JUST as I had predicted! He was great! I loved the looks between Jiji and him where they completely understood each other without having to speak! I absolutely adored how soft his voice was, very nicely matching Ugui’s image.

☆ Also I did start laughing at one point when I remembered Suzuki and Tomoki had been in YowaPeda together. I just imagined Suzuki’s Arakita and Tomoki’s Makishima dressing up in their sword outfits. Them looking like TouDan but with their Peda character’s personalities just cracked me up SO MUCH!

☆ You can definitely appreciate the amount of LEG shown by Yagen and Fudou in this movie! The camera itself really loved focusing on Yagen’s legs! Many times there are obvious shots that are there JUST for his legs xD and there’s a scene at the honmaru where Fudou goes to sleep and you can see all the muscles in his legs and it’s beautiful ^_^ highly appreciated and thankful for these shots!

☆ I do like movie version of Hasebe. I liked him somewhat in this one. There wasn’t so much forehead acting from Wada in this (thank god) so I liked Hasebe this time around.

☆ And I guess movie version of Jiji wasn’t as much of a dick as he is in the stage too. I do like Jiji quite a bit in this one too, but he still got that god damn plot armour.

☆ In some shots you can see the knee support around Maki’s right leg - he was still receiving rehabilitation on his knee after his surgery when he stupidly went off to film this.

☆ I am here for the utter and complete tag team of Yagen and Manba! I absolutely adored all their scenes together! I was SO down for this pair up! They were great together!

☆ If you’ve never seen the Eiga Dorobo video, I highly recommend you see it! It’s often shown in movie theatre before the movie starts and it’s gold! (see here) so for Touken Ranbu they made special ones with the cast joining in! They even had the Jikansokougun too! So far there have only been 2 episodes out and a third one should be coming. So for the two different episodes we had the appearance of:

Eiga Dorobo 1: Uguisumaru, Fudou, Hasebe

Eiga Dorobo 2: Honebami, Nihongo, Yagen

☆ Watching the movie, I had this huge moment of ‘fuck, I love Touken Ranbu’, because there are so many versions of it and anyone can make any version they want because the creators of the game gave so much leeway as to how to interpret the swords, the personalities, how they defend history, the lore of the Jikan, there is just so much god damn potential in this series and there’s so many ways and stories you can write with these boys! I just got so happy and proud while watch the movie. We can literally make up whatever shit we want so long as history goes back to normal at the end! It’s GREAT!

☆ However, as already stated above, there were some super dodgy editing in this! I really need to find out who the editor is and send them an email because some of the editing was cringe worthy. We literally had one shot where Jiji walks out but the shot is focused on Jiji’s feet for about 5 seconds while Jiji talks. No shot of Jiji actually talking, no shot of Jiji’s face, just his FEET! HIS FEET! What the hell was that shot of Jiji’s feet at the beginning of the movie?! I’ve watched this movie TWICE and I have absolutely NO idea what the point of that shot was! That was the worst one.

☆ Other things like in the very first opening scene we are have a VERY OBVIOUS audio dub over one of the guys. Why they dubbed over the man with different lines to what his mouth creates, I don’t know why, but it does not sync up at all and it is very obvious.

☆ And the transition between scenes/days and the cut backs to older stuff in the movie was just very poorly edited too. If a scene ended, it would fade to black and for like 2 seconds there would be nothing, no music, just a black scene and then suddenly a new song would start, it felt VERY stage-y and not like a movie at all! It was cringe worthy and really wasted precious seconds we could’ve spent on the movie. Also we had some ‘flashback’ scenes and the music and sound immediately cut off from Cut 1 -> Cut 2 would be the flashback and be absolutely silent, no music -> go back to Cut 1 and suddenly the music has restarted again. I REALLY didn’t like it! It REALLY pissed me. LET ME FUCKING REEDIT THIS GOD DAMN MOVIE! The post production for most of this movie SUCKED. The editing and the sound mixing SUCKED. Ugh... that person needs firing.

☆ Also, this movie was WAY too short! We get 3 hour long stages from Marv, so why is the movie less than 2 god damn hours?! It’s barely 1 hour 45! Give me more gungi! Give me some comedy! (There is NO comedy in this besides ONE line from Hasebe!) Give me them enjoying time at the god damn honmaru!

☆ Upon looking back, I realised that they did not show one of the bigger fights at all that happens towards the end of the movie. I really wish they had shown that fight scene rather than having it happen off screen. There was so much potential and so much you could’ve done with that fight scene. You could’ve easily had swords pop up here, there, everywhere and they could’ve done it in a real stylistic way if they didn’t have the time or money to get actual actors. They could’ve just done close up shots of swords’ costumes, or their feet landing next to the Jikan, or show two swords clashing, or a danshi jumping into the fight etc. You could’ve easily ‘brought in’ many swords into that fight scene without actual hiring any actors (especially if certain actors did not have time) and it could’ve been very creative, stylistic and interesting and it would’ve been a big flail for the fans.

☆ Also MAJOR SPOILERS HERE: the ending part with the new sword? Don’t just IGNORE that for fuck sake! Give him and the audience an explanation! Let him speak! Let him have his moment as to what happened to him and where he’s been and what he went through shit! God damn don’t just NOT explain that! Don’t just have him pop up, save the day, say his name and FINISH! What the fuck.

Wow the more I think about this movie, the more dissatisfied I get... okay, last one!

☆ Also Nishii Yukito had SUCH a small role!!! I was hoping he’d have so much more screen time than what he actually got. He has about 1 minute max *so sad*

I DO pin a lot of my complaints and nitpicks on the fact I have a cinematography background; I studied film, I’ve made films, I’ve always watched BTS of making films, I love the process of film making. And I think because of that, that’s why I’m being so particular on HOW it was made and on post-production and how I would’ve made the movie. So if you’re not into the whole film making side of movies then none of these are gunna bother you. If you’re not into this stuff then I really think you’ll enjoy this movie a lot! You will definitely have a good time and be satisfied and enjoy it so much!

Okay now onto:

MAJOR SPOILER TERRITORY COMMENTS

☆ I loved this version of Saru and how he isn’t just a nice guy and isn’t just the idiot that history leads us to believe. In this he’s cold, and mean, and turned against so many people! I loved Saru suddenly going against Hasebe too! It was such a plot twist! He invited Hasebe and Nihongo into his clan but as soon as our swords let down their guard, Saru’s men attacked them and they had to run! It was such a shocking twist! And Hasebe getting shot because of this ambush too was insane!! I know it’s spoiled in the trailer but seeing it happen in that moment! I was not expecting it at all!

☆ Also I am glad I got to see Hasebe actually almost physically harming Jiji, and Manba straight up being like ‘yo I don’t trust you Mika,’ and Yagen siding with Manba! Oh my! It was such a great scene! I loved all the suspicion going on around them and them not exactly wanting to agree or listen to Jiji. Argh! SO GOOD! I was like ‘HIT HIM HASEBE! DO IT!’ and I guess this is another reason why I like Movie Hasebe much more than Stage Hasebe.

☆ Seriously! I absolutely loved the teaming up of Yagen and Manba!! And now I want them forever on my team in the game now too! xD

☆ My heart hurt a little when Oda called Jiji ‘Munechika’, I was like ‘YOU HAVE NO RIGHT CALLING HIM BY HIS GIVEN NAME!!’ because clearly Jiji deserves more respect than Oda xD but I think it’s purposely put in so we do feel this way.

☆ I absolutely loved the twist for Oda’s story: he didn’t die at Honnouji, he actually died at Azuchi Castle and only Jiji knows the true hsitory because he was the only one there at the time! Such a great twist! And how Jiji tricked Oda into going to Azuchi, making Oda think he’ll be fine there and making Oda think that they are changing history together! Such a good plot twist! I loved it!

☆ Even though I was spoiled for the new sword, it’s very heavily implied throughout the entire movie. Especially when Akechi uses him in defense again the Jikan, and suddenly the danshi’s (who is clothed in Jikan armour and wear) eyes turn bright yellow (Jikan’s eyes are all a glowing red). It’s a really good and random reveal!

☆ As Jiji tries to leave Azuchi castle, Honebami meets up with him. But fucking Oda pullings his sword on Hone and pins it at his neck! He tells Jiji to work with him or he’ll kill Hone and Jiji is like ‘I can’t help you, this is how it’s supposed to be’, just, I was like YESSSSSSSSSS!!!! But in the end Oda let’s Hone and Jiji go -__- I’m sorry but Hone SHOULD HAVE been killed there!

☆ One of my favourite lines from the movie is from Jiji (surprisingly) where he says: 守りたいことが増えばっかり。 // Things I want to protect just keep increasing. Which shows just how different of a Jiji we have in this version! He actually fucking emotionally cares in this one!

☆ The very last scene has ALL the Stage swords who have appeared in TouStage up to now were ALL at the Honmaru in this final scene. Except Daihannya & Ookanehira. Those two swords were NOT in this final scene. As for the actors; every one of the TouStage actors, except Hirose Daisuke and Kento, were as their Swords, in their costumes in this final scene. Ichigo and Tsurumaru ARE in this seen but are clearly NOT the actors. They clearly had body doubles / standins in this scene and their faces were out of focus. Also in the final ending credits, these two actors' names were not listed. I was flailing so hard!!! This was a HUGE shocker and I am so happy how many of them were able to come back for this one scene! So this is the scene where the new Saniwa is revealed and we finally got a female Saniwa!!!! I was like ‘YES JUSTICE!!!’ I spent most of the movie like ‘why the fuck is it always a Male Saniwa?!?! Why not hire someone ambiguous like Yuzuki or Toman as the Saniwa?!’. But alas we got our girl at the end!! The very very very last scene is absolutely ADORABLE! The saniwa (she’s like 3 years old) grabs onto the back of Jiji (he’s sitting down and drinking tea) and holds him for a piggyback, he smiles, picks her up and piggybacks her around the honmaru! It’s ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE!! I was in absolutely tears at this scene! Ughhh someone give Suzuki babies!!! I was in a MESS of tears. And the very very very last line is him where he says ‘ Aruji.... the stuff I want to protect just keeps increasing’ arghhhh my heart!! *dead* IT’S SUCH A GOOD ENDING!!!

And that’s all! I hope you enjoyed this review and I hope you watch, buy and enjoy the movie!

As stated, I feel like a lot of my complaints come from my cinematic background so general people who just want a good movie are really going to enjoy this!! ^_^ Also if you ever see spelling mistakes, don’t ever hesitate to yell at me! xD

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fate-hates-faraday · 5 years

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So I can’t let go of this thought and what better way to be able to let go than to post it on tumblr? Rambling to follow.

tl;dr: one reason people like Deceit and hope he gets some form of a redemption/acceptance arc is because his role as a form of self-preservation, his insistence that it’s ok to be selfish dammit, and his habit of lying even when it’s not beneficial to him are all probably familiar to abuse survivors and, on a “lesser” scale, people who have had to remain closeted for a long period of time. Ironically, for the same reasons, I don’t think Deceit will get that sort of arc.

tw: Discussions of bullying/abuse, lying/manipulation, taking the idea of Sympathetic Deceit and running across the goal line with it, apologies to anyone abused by a deceptive person because this probably is a bad idea to read.

I’ll get this out of the way, yeah: deception and its related concepts have been a defense mechanism of mine for well over a decade, even before I realized I was going to be stuck in a closet. My environment wasn’t the worst to be in, but the truth never served me well. Literally one of my earlier easiest-to-recall memories was going to a school counselor when I was like 8 to explain how an older student was bullying me on the bus, only to be told “but she’s such a nice girl!” and have nothing come of it except further bullying.

Obviously not the last time the truth did nothing to help, but this isn’t all about me.

While honesty is a virtue and a skill, the fact is that many of us need some kind of reinforcement to develop virtues and skill. When honesty often offers no relief from a painful situation or even worsens a situation, where’s the reinforcement? People saying dishonesty is “bad”? When we lie and a situation improves, is that not reinforcement? When we successfully engineer situations to keep ourselves safe or finally force an authority figure to recognize the reality of our situation, is that not reinforcement? It’s all dishonest, but it proves to work. While anxiety may be screaming at how we’ll get caught, it also screams when we consider honesty because “no one will believe you” or “you’re just going to get hurt” so, for those who choose to refine deception into a skill, there’s not enough, let’s call it motivation, to avoid being dishonest.

You lie to keep an abuser calm.

You lie to stay safe in a homophobic environment.

You lie to keep attention off yourself.

For people who feel the need to lie, it’s not exactly a good thing. Sure, it’s a functional defense mechanism and genuinely keeps us safe, but it comes with the side effects of feeling like a bad person (honesty is a virtue, remember) and a sense of isolation. Pain shared is pain halved, but there’s no one to share it with when you have to stay in hiding. Studies on abuse survivors often cite social support (i.e. the ability to disclose with honesty about your circumstances to others and receive support in return) as a mitigating factor in the development of unhealthy trauma responses and the ability to recover and move on (disclaimer: trying to acquire many of these studies online required payment); those unable to get such support may feel mired in the trauma and may downplay or deny its existence as there’s no reason to expect support (and there’s that need to lie again).

Meanwhile, while there aren’t many studies on the topic, there are many reports from closeted individuals about the stress caused by staying in the closet, but it can’t be ignored that they often report staying in the closet after noticing signs of homophobia in their environment. It’s a no-win situation, where you either get to live in constant terror or feel like a bad person while enduring attacks against your identity, and, honestly, that’s really damaging to a person and another way to pile onto the feeling of trauma.

I can’t speak for Thomas as a person, but Character!Thomas probably had to lie to keep safe in a homophobic environment. Even when the stars align and family is accepting, it’s still common for peers, especially in middle and high school, to be significantly less so. At best, it paints a target on your back for easy bullying - and for the sake of this post we’ll leave it at that. Still, remember that this has the stars aligning and family being accepting. It’s dismaying how many aren’t. Some realize the error of their ways over time, but that can still involve a period of enduring further homophobia with the pain of knowing that they're AWARE it’s hurting you. At least before you came out, it was horrible but they were ignorant of what they were doing. Anyways, my point: I think most of us acknowledge Deceit was probably strongest while Thomas was in the closet. Deceit has been referred to as self-preservation and, if lying is the best defense mechanism to keep Thomas safe, then by god he’s going to lie.

This then sadly ties into the next point: I don’t think Deceit’s going to get a redemption/acceptance arc the same way Virgil did.

The good news is that, likely, a lot of us have since managed to escape or see an escape from our crappy situations. We escaped our abusers, we came out in a safe environment, et cetera et cetera. We’ve learned we can be more honest.

The instinct to deceive never fully goes away though.

As I said, it’s a defense mechanism. The moment the situation feels a bit too familiar, it’s easy to sink back into lying because lying works and kept us safe. We can consciously choose not to give in to that instinct, but it’s there to stay, permanently trapped in the situation that necessitated its creation.

I suspect Deceit’s in the same boat with that instinct.

Here’s a interpretation of Deceit’s symbol that isn’t “two-faced liar”: one side facing towards the future and one side towards the past. The future side is easy enough to understand: gauging situations that haven’t quite happened yet, working out ideas to deal with them, pushing Thomas towards being a better person - in his case, by trying to convince Thomas to not hurt himself for the sake of others. If deception wasn’t such a reliable method in the past, he’d likely be going about it in a different way.

But it was, and that’s why the other side faces the past. Deceit can’t leave it behind, and it’s why he defaults to lying. It kept Thomas safe in the past. Why can’t it keep working now?

Except Thomas isn’t in the past anymore. He’s in the present and, overall, his situation now is a lot better than what it was when lying worked.

Until Deceit can acknowledge that and look towards other, healthier defense mechanisms, deception will remain his go-to. If he were a person of his own, acknowledgement would seem viable. As an aspect, though? I’m not sure that’s possible, or at least it’s far more difficult. Even the ones who have shown change onscreen still seem to default to old habits once in a while (see: Patton trying to distract and cover up problems instead of dealing with them, Virgil wanting to terrify others via “cringe” phases). I think Deceit knows this, and he knows he can’t bring himself to compromise or let go of the way things were.

The closest thing I can imagine to “redemption” or “acceptance” for Deceit is Thomas acknowledging he has to balance the needs of others against his own. I think after that, Deceit would be willing to relinquish his spot at the metaphorical table and go back to operating in the shadows, only showing up when Thomas is slipping again. It’s probably the best he can hope for, anyways.

#deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides #for the record trauma and dysfunctional don't excuse bad behavior merely explain it #tbh aspects dealing with dysfunctional behaviors and poor coping mechanisms seems more likely than a part of Thomas just being evil #just saying #janus sanders

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lightsandlostbells · 5 years

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Skam France season 3, episode 8 reaction

Not gonna lie, I kept thinking “they must taste like ham” during the love-making scene

Episode 8

Clip 1 - Morning after

Lucas wakes up, still with splotches of paint on his body. I guess he washed off some of the paint, but not that well? I have so many questions about how they got home, like did they manage to get into the locker room to take a shower before leaving the school, or did they just go home covered in paint?

Anyway, Lucas is alone and checks his phone. His father says their mom wants to go to mass with them next week, so there’s your O Helga Natt clip. I’m trying to think about the religious references in this season. They’ve definitely been carrying through with Lucas’ mom being religious; I’m not sure there has been more in the way of religious symbolism? Luke is a Biblical figure but I’m not sure there’s any connecting with Lucas’ character the way Isak was connected to Biblical Isaac through the 21:21 reference. Not that it means O Helga Natt shouldn’t happen at a church, just that I think you could potentially set the scene somewhere else that’s more in line with what symbolism there is in this season (light and dark).

WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE. Was he on the couch???? In the living room??? Wh- why? So they went back to Lucas’ placed and crashed, covered in paint and seemingly naked (since Lucas is shown putting on his boxers), on the sofa in his living room? At the apartment where he has three other roommates coming and going? The FUCK.

Doesn’t Eliott live by himself? I thought someone involved with the show said that. Why did they not go to his place where they can be alone, rather than going to Lucas’ where they have to crash on the fucking couch? Even if Eliott does live with his parents or whoever, presumably he has a bedroom with, you know, a door.

I guess after you fuck in public at your school when there are people around, cuddling naked together in your living room where your roommates might see is no big deal at all. Get over it, prudes.

This is one of those times when I think Skam France still sticks to the original script too much, like obviously this part is here because Isak woke up alone after Even spent the night and heard Even in the kitchen. Lucas’ living situation (aka living on his goddamn couch) doesn’t really accommodate for that without some weirdness. So they could have revised this scene a bit - either send them to Eliott’s place rather than Lucas’, or have Lucas actually get his bedroom back by now (why is he still on the couch anyway????) or just have them clothed. Or you could have something where Eliott didn’t sleep over, and Lucas wakes up on the couch smiling about the previous day, except then he hears Eliott’s voice in the kitchen. Surprise! Eliott came over early to surprise Lucas with breakfast, and Manon let him in. And it could be shown as a sign of his mania, maybe, like it’s cute but Eliott came over way too early with way too many ingredients and it’s just a little too intense, it feels off.

Anyway, Lucas hears giggling from the kitchen, and of course Eliott is cooking and talking to the roommates. He’s making a fennel and cinnamon omelette. He kisses Lucas and Mika and Manon exchange a proud look. No more interventions are necessary.

Eliott also wants to make blueberry bacon muffins and Manon is all WTF about it, because she is lucky enough to live in a country where people apparently weren’t putting bacon in every single food product for a few years.

Mika and Manon pretend they didn’t hear anything from Eliott and Lucas when they came in, but Lisa enters and is like, yes, I did hear you fucking. So they were for real fucking on the couch? I’m just imagining like, Manon wanting a glass of water last night but being unable to leave her bedroom, just waiting for the moans to stop.

Lisa tells Manon to give her room to Lucas since he has a sex life and Manon doesn’t. Cold, but accurate, and also, Manon should give her room back since it’s not hers in the first place and Lucas was clearly distraught over it in the last episode. C’mon. At least take turns.

When the roommates are gone, Lucas says he thought Eliott left this morning (or like … one minute ago), like he did with Lucille. We get this conversation with a big gap between them as Lucas talks about Eliott making out with Lucille at Chloé’s party. Eliott closes the gap and takes Lucas’ face in his hands when he says that Lucille knows him well and made him believe they had to get back together, and Lucas wasn’t ready. Eliott was afraid Lucas wouldn’t want anything serious, Lucas says he does, and Eliott says good, because he’s not going anywhere right now. They kiss.

Eliott comes across as rather self-assured here. Even seemed very vulnerable when Isak called him on the situation with Sonja, and his attitude got very weird and harsh. He wasn’t even looking Isak in the eye as he complained about her; he only looked back when he was asking Isak to understand what he meant. Part of the scene felt very, very fragile for both of them. By contrast, while Lucas here seems uncertain, Eliott seems pretty confident. Although he’s telling Lucas about something that made him uncertain at the time, in the moment he seems to have gotten over it. Either that or he’s completely burying his fears, because I don’t see a hint of doubt or defensiveness.

Also, in the original scene, there were hints that Even was manic. I guessed it from my first viewing, watching the scene in unsubtitled Norwegian, just based off Even’s energy and emotional shifts, and then with the subs we could see how he got distracted, his mind was racing a bit. I didn’t really feel like they were signaling Eliott was manic yet, other than the lines about him going to the fridge and wanting to bake everything. Eliott just seems comfortable in what’s happening. (I’m not blaming Maxence for this, I think his acting is pretty solid, honestly.)

They obviously did not do their version of the Gabrielle lip-syncing, and while I don’t mind if they choose not to, for time constraints or not wanting to copy OG or just not feeling it for the characters, I can’t help but feel a bit bereft that I did not see more of Eliott’s awkward EDM dancing.

Clip 2 - Ass = art

I am honest to God laughing that they hyped up that previous mural as the ugliest shit ever, and then Lucas and Eliott literally threw some paint over it and it’s suddenly acceptable. Oh my God. Different strokes for different folks and all, but you can still see the original goddamn mural!!! It’s not even totally covered up!!!

Plot twist: whoever originally painted that mural in like the ‘90s or whatever also did it while having sex against the wall. And the plucky artists who will paint over Lucas and Eliott’s mural in like 2034 will be doing it as part of an orgy. Why even bother having a mattress when you have a paint-splattered wall to hump against?

I think it’d be a pretty display if it it were not half-assed. It’s not even covering all of the existing mural. They should’ve whole-assed it. Much like they whole-assed everything else on Friday.

Lucas is like, sorry we didn’t go with what was planned. Was there a plan? Because it absolutely came across like the boys just showed up to paint whatever image popped into their heads.

OH MY GOD THERE WAS AN ACTUAL ASS PRINT ON THE WALL

AND THEY DON’T EVEN MAKE UP A LIE ABOUT IT

Eliott’s like, Sorry about that! And he and Lucas kiss. Oh my God, this is ridiculous. I’m happy for your love and all but I legit cringed at that part, it’s too much. I guess if I think about it like how Even said it was good the boys left when Even showed up at Isak’s house, it’s the same thing? Except that’s a lot vaguer than like, yep, we left ass prints on the wall, our butt cheeks were used as sponges. I suppose it’s odd that everyone’s just like ... completely un-weirded out by this admission. (🐭🐭🐭)

Daphne is happy because the common room was decorated by a gay couple, so that made it cool, and objectively that’s not a great thing to say but I confess it make me laugh, because what a Daphne thought. Imane is like, why do we let it slide when Daphne says stuff like that? Good question. I guess because Daphne’s enthusiasm is pretty charming if you just tune out her words themselves.

Eliott is like, we gave it body and soul … you sure did give it your body, as Daphne observes.

Imane says she’s happy for Eliott and Daphne asks if Imane and Eliott know each other. They smile at each other. Precious. So we’re getting that storyline in S4, let’s hope they do a decent job with it. It could be improved.

Lucas gets a text from his dad about going to mass. Dad guilts him, telling him to think of his mother. Lucas texts back that he’ll go to mass with his boyfriend. We don’t get an answer immediately from the dad, like with Isak; Lucas just tells him and looks over to his boyfriend smiling and laughing with the girls, like he doesn’t care what his dad says in that moment, he’s just going to enjoy being happy with Eliott. He gives Eliott a back hug, it’s very sweet.

Clip 3 - Boy squad = cheerleaders

Basile is talking about sending a song to a girl, presumably Daphne, because this is hell. She didn’t reply. Dude. Take the fucking hint.

I know I keep complaining about this a million times per post, but I keep being annoyed at Skam France for adding yet another no-means-yes romance where a girl’s stated disinterest is continually ignored by a guy. We already had Noorhelm/Marles. And Vilde/Magnus, whatever you think of them, didn’t have this crap tainting their courtship.

The boys run into Eliott who looks happy. Lucas proudly introduces Eliott as his boyfriend, without any insecurity, and the boys erupt in cheers like this is one of those videos where everyone’s watching as a kid is opening his email and learning he got accepted to Harvard (🐭🐭🐭). I mean, it is cute that the boys react so positively! I don’t want to discourage straight boys cheering on their gay friend getting a boyfriend. Go wild, throw some confetti, bake a cake.

Basile says Lucas made the boys bolt on Friday and is upset he didn’t get to paint. I feel like Basile’s “misunderstood genius” left uninterrupted would definitely have resulted in several big-tittied anime girls on that wall. The boys invite Eliott to the park on Wednesday. Eliott agrees to go even though Lucas points out he has class then. I guess maybe that’s a sign of Eliott being manic? Maybe? Like he doesn’t care about school and is being reckless?

Basile makes an incest joke. Not his first in the season.

The boys really do seem cute running away, I love Arthur’s moves! But again, I am never letting that “it’s not Disneyland” comment go, because everything is so shiny-happy. It’s not just positive in a realistic way, it’s that song that from The Lego Movie. With Isak, he was still shy after he came out to his friends because you know, he was a human being and turning off internalized homophobia wasn’t like flicking a light switch. He got more comfortable over time. And the boys were very excited to meet Even but in a chill, non-OTT way (even Magnus).

With content like this, I do think it is valuable to show exceedingly positive social support for a gay teenager coming out and getting a boyfriend, like I do feel a little bad having any nitpicks about this. Likewise, I hate to have any reservations about Lucas getting so totally open and affectionate with Eliott so fast, because this is the end goal, obviously, we want to see Lucas happy and thriving and out and proud. You could make the argument that now he knows his friends accept him, he can let go of his insecurities in full (I don’t know how I feel about that because I don’t think Lucas’ problem was solely about whether his friends would accept him, for instance the Pride scene was more about internalized homophobia). And I do think they wanted to make Lucas as happy as possible this week before bringing him down at the end of the episode, for the impact. But combined with stuff like treating his outing as no big deal, and cleaning house last week and putting the Chloé and Imane clips in that episode so we got those conflicts and plot threads out of the way, and then how Lucas is so 100% okay with announcing Eliott as his boyfriend and joking about their sex life and kissing him and embracing him in public, all of this right off the bat ... to me it almost feels like they wanted to skip over the inner conflict, any hesitation or lingering insecurities, and just get straight to the cuddly ship content. And I mean, I approve of cuddly ship content! It just seems a little pat? You can make something idealistic and realistic. I guess Skam resolved some conflicts easily, too, but I felt like Isak’s character development was gradual and earned, whereas Lucas’ lacks some nuance here.

Lucas gets a phone call and it’s from Lucille. I find it kinda weird we didn’t even hear her voice because that would be Lucas’ POV in this important moment. Eliott talks to Lucille and it doesn’t really seem like… alarming like it did with Even, that rapid change in mood. He just sounds annoyed that she’s calling Lucas and he told her not to.

Lucas asks why Lucille called, Eliott is like IDK, to bullshit you. Which honestly, seems like a reasonable enough response? I don’t get why Lucas looks at Eliott like Eliott is the one bullshitting him. It’s not nice but Eliott’s ex calling Lucas just to harass him or tell him to stay away is not a thing that’s all that unusual, it happens. Even was a lot harsher in attitude and weirder in what he said (”she doesn’t like people who live free and genuine”). Anyway, then Eliott says Lucille can’t control him (Eliott) anymore and is trying to go through Lucas. Eliott kisses Lucas, plays with his hair (which seems to be their Thing, which is adorable), kisses him again, leaves, comes back for another kiss. He pulls an Even and walks off backwards. Lucas blows him a kiss after he’s gone. Well, that’s the cutest thing I’ve seen from Lucas so far, and very endearing.

Clip 4 - Het drama? In my S3? It’s more likely than you think

Everyone, both boy and girl squads are having a picnic. There’s a cool effect where someone wipes away the time card as they walk through the frame, I don’t remember seeing anything like that before on Skam France or any other remake. Stuff like that is just a fun way to play with the format.

Is that the same lake as the one in the first clip of the season? Would be nice to call back, since Lucas was feeling detached back then, and now he’s surrounded by friends and literally lying in his man’s arms. Speaking of, Lucas and Eliott are a little ways off from everyone else, and like I said, Lucas is being cozy in Eliott’s arms. They talk about doing something this weekend; Eliott mentions that Lisa blacklisted him from the flatshare and I DO NOT BLAME HER after what happened on that couch. Although I guess you could say the other flatmates deserve it after relegating Lucas to the sofa.

Eliott mentions his parents will be there that weekend. Wait, so I thought he lived alone? Didn’t someone involved with the show say that? Guess I was wrong. Or are his parents just coming to visit? Anyway, obviously this is setup for them getting a hotel room or whatever their version is.

Okay: absolutely fucking ridiculous that this 4-minute clip features less than a minute actually focused on Lucas’ POV, in Lucas’ season. At the end of the season? Sure, absolutely, we’re wrapping up the season’s storylines and giving everyone some closure and/or setup for the next season. Switching POVs is perfectly fine then. But in the middle of the season??? What’s more - in the middle of episode 8??????? The end of episode 8 is a hugely important turn of the story. It twists everything we know about the Even character on its head, it’s an intense scene, even frightening. It should have us looking back, noticing the signs we didn’t know were there on first viewing. This is one of the worst times they could cut for an interlude about everyone else - let alone for crappy het romance drama.

They could’ve used these three minutes to hint at Eliott’s mania! Or put in some content about Lucas’ parents, especially with Lucas’ mom since he’s going to come out to her soon! You can even keep the picnic with everyone else, just have Eliott doing or saying something that in retrospect is a big-ass pile of foreshadowing. Considering this week has been very light on those hints so far, this would have been a perfect opportunity. At the very least, if you need that mandatory girl squad content, we could have seen all this het romance through Lucas’ eyes, like he’s not even in the scene with these people, really? It’s not like he’s watching or listening to them, he and Eliott are in their own little bubble. So just stay in the bubble with them, or let others into their bubble, or don’t have them in the bubble - they can be cuddling closer to everyone else and interacting with them.

Keep in mind that there was no French “5 fine frøkner” either, lmao. They cut that out and we got this scene instead. And like I said, I’m totally fine with the kitchen sing-along not being there, but if what we get instead is shit that has nothing to do with Lucas and isn’t even from his POV, to focus on a bunch of (terrible) m/f pairings ... then I’m going to get exasperated.

Basile worms in between Emma and Daphne, like legit shoves Emma to the side. Daphne is reading a book. Basile tries to make small talk, Daphne ignores him (as she well should) and talks to Emma over him. Basile asks her out for coffee, Daphne is like, I’m studying. With a respectful human being, the conversation would end here. It’s appalling to me that even these little moments are chock full of Basile’s entitlement! Daphne says she’s reading, so either a) she is genuinely trying to enjoy her book or get some homework done or b) she just really doesn’t want to talk to Basile or c) both but IN ANY CASE he needs to get the fucking picture, she is not interested in continuing this conversation. I had to vent after I saw this scene because I’m just astonished by how thoroughly awful this relationship has been depicted, like they are hitting ALL the typical entitled dude moments.

Anyway, welcome to hell. Arthur gives Basile the signal to keep going (and Arthur’s on my shit list, too, for enabling this behavior - like lol, here’s toxic masculinity for you). Basile asks if she heard the song he sent her. Daphne is like … the song with the deeply inappropriate lyrics? So not only is he continuing to bother her when she wants to be left alone, but the song he sent he was overly sexual? GEE WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK THIS IS HARASSMENT.

Arthur and Yann chide Basile for sending such a forward song, Yann told him to be less upfront so Daphne would want him. Yann is on my shit list, too! Stop encouraging this creepy behavior! This is like a textbook study of how guys enforce toxic masculinity, for real, because Arthur and Yann know full well that Daphne has said no a million times, she said no again 10 seconds ago while the boys were right there, and yet that’s not enough for them, either. They’re not telling Basile to back off.

Basile is like, what’s the point, no one wants me, and gets up and walks away. Lol, so this shit is about Basile’s poor feelings. Not Daphne’s, not how she felt when Basile was trying to hump her on the dance floor or never the shutting the fuck up about how he wants her. Basile being sad because he did a creepy thing and it wasn’t well-received. Of course. (I seriously think you could write that moment of him saying no one wants him in a way that’s poignant and sympathetic, but you have to build it up in a way where we can feel sorry for him without caveats. If you wanted me to feel sorry for him, don’t write him as persistently going after a girl who has said she’s not interested!)

Yann and Arthur talk to Daphne and are like, he probably didn’t even read the lyrics! Er, not Daphne’s fucking fault that Basile was lazy. The song was titled “May she love me.” The boys are like, how cute! OF FUCKING COURSE Daphne smiles a little after that as she looks at Basile walking off. The boys encourage Daphne to give him a chance. OF FUCKING COURSE men are telling a woman to give a poor guy a chance after she’s already said no over and over again.

Did anyone realize this is some Nice Guy nonsense, too? That Basile, he’s really a decent guy! He’s so sweet and nice with his well-intentioned song choice! So why doesn’t Daphne give him a chance, hmm? I mean Basile is such a Nice Guy and yet no one will love him.

I’m sorry I cannot stop talking about this but it is astonishing how much crap they have packed into every goddamn scene of this nonsense. This is a man’s fantasy, this is a woman’s nightmare. Actually, no, - it’s women’s reality, because it happens often enough that men don’t give a shit about our boundaries and our rejections (however firm or polite) that this is a whole subset of feminist discourse, that we have terms like Nice Guy because these attitudes are so prevalent they merit a common phrase, that almost every woman has stories about some dude who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Manon’s hat

That’s the comment, Manon’s fucking hat

The other girls are messing with Romain about period blood, heh. Manon goes after Emma when Emma walks off. (We get treated to yet more dialogue from Yann and Arthur trying to persuade Daphne to give Basile a chance, siiiiiiigh. Let the girl read her book!) Emma is bummed because Raptor Alex didn’t respond to Emma’s invitation and he’s seeing another girl tonight. Emma also slept with another guy, Manon is impressed by how she can do that. But Emma said it sucked with that other guy and that with Alex the sex was good, it was just that when he opened his mouth that she was turned off. Lmao, Emma, some things just aren’t meant to be that serious? He’s good in bed but he’s not that interesting of a person. It’s fine. Either keep your FWB thing going or find someone you can bang while also having stimulating conversations or whatever.

Emma says Manon and Alex have more to talk about than she and Alex, and that she saw them the other day. Talking about Charles, obviously. Emma lets on that she knows something is wrong with Manon, and she’s waiting for Manon to talk about it. This scene’s a lot like the talk between Yann and Lucas in episode 5, except somehow I don’t think Emma is going to walk away once Manon opens up.

Manon says it’s complicated with Charles and she doesn’t know if he’s coming back. Emma says she’ll wait for Manon to open up. Manon gets teary. Apart from the fact that this is not in Lucas’ POV, and that this is about crappy straight pairings, on its own this is a really nice interaction between the two of them.

But can we talk about how absolutely awful the het pairings on this show are? We have Manon/Charles with their ramped-up alpha male crap in S2 and then what he did to Manon in London, which was despicable. We have Emma/Alex, who are functional as fuckbuddies but have no real intellectual or emotional connection (fine for what it is, but don’t tell me this is supposed to be a real romance). We have Alex/Romain, the bi girl with the boyfriend who’s fetishizing her and asking her for a threesome the minute after she comes out to him, basically. She seems done with him already, like she’s just dating him out of habit now. And we have Basile/Daphne, at the very bottom of the trash heap. I want Imane to have a love interest who’s genuinely great and who deserves her, but seriously, the bar is so low that French Yousef could basically lie on the ground and roll over it.

Clip 5 - Boat bangin’

Eliott leads Lucas to his surprise at the docks. There’s some cute banter with them; they do have nice chemistry when they’re directed well and allowed to be free with each other (when it’s been off I chalk that up to scenes being rushed more than the actors, but it hasn’t been often). Missed opportunity to do something interesting with POV, though? The boat and the dock are shown immediately, but since Eliott is covering Lucas’ eyes, they could replicate the sense of surprise by not showing the boat right away, just have a closeup on Lucas and Eliott until Eliott tells him to look, so we see the reveal when he does.

Eliott shows Lucas that they’re on a boat and Lucas is stunned and happy. He asks how Eliott paid for the boat and Eliott just blows off that question and swoops in for a kiss, and I mean, when a face that pretty is that happy, are you going to question it? Maxence does seem to be doing a nice job with the manic signs here; he’s just a little elevated and giddy, and it could certainly just be excitement to be alone with his new boyfriend, but it also registers as slightly higher than Eliott’s usual range to me.

Eliott yells about his hot boyfriend to the water and he and Lucas goof around, it’s very cute. Lucas says no one has ever done anything like this for him. Awwww. But also, you understand why he’s letting the question of how Eliott paid for the boat slide. He’s just thrilled to be with him and touched by the grand gesture.

Inside the boat, Eliott pours champagne for him and Lucas. It’s not real champagne, as it turns out. I do like how this scene is shot, I don’t like a lot of Skam France’s directing but this is working for me. The scene on the deck was beautiful like a romantic movie scene, like it’s supposed to feel for Lucas, a combination of light and dark. But now the darkness inside the boat feels a little more stifling, in my opinion. I like that we see them from the side, considering each other.

Eliott tells Lucas to try to eat some Italian ham, and I do like how Lucas is playacting like they’re living it up and being fancy. It’s a good thing because there is no fucking way on this planet that eating that ham is a sexy move. It is the opposite of sexy. Eliott snatches ham from Lucas. Even the literal male model cannot make eating ham look sexy. Lucas describes the ham in sensual detail. Lucas says that it’s so good, you’d have thought Eliott cooked it. Eliott laughs and there’s a long look, which gets kind of intense? There’s something lingering in the air. I guess I was wrong, because these two seem immensely aroused by eating ham. Okay. No judgment. Glad you two found each other.

Eliott lights a cigarette, and like smoking kills and all, but objectively way sexier than eating ham. He shotguns with Lucas like Lucas did with Chloé in episode 1, except Eliott is way more skilled at it and obviously this is way sexier/more fulfilling to Lucas. Lucas is ready to fuuuuuuuuck.

They smile at each other, very fond of each other, in love, and then we cut to the sex scene. To Skam France’s credit: they’re not shy or coy about showing the gay intimacy. The actors seem to be pretty naked. Stuff happens.

I personally don’t find this kind of sex scene terribly sexy, because the mechanics of bodies are less interesting to me than the characters’ emotions during the scene, usually (unless there’s something really unusual or notable going on, lol). The Evak hotel clip happened to be the exact kind of TV/movie sex scene I like: more suggestive than explicit, more focused on their faces and their expressions. With Lucas and Eliott, I give massive props to the actors for going this far with each other, and they’re not shy or uncomfortable, but I also wish we saw more of their expressions so this scene felt like them and not any two bodies going at it? But anyway, again, not a flaw of the scene, just a personal preference.

Anyway, in the afterglow, Lucas looks totally fucked into contentment and says he wants to live his life on the barge. Eliott says he does too and starts talking about renting it for the wedding and getting lots of ham and crisps, ONLY ham and crisps for their wedding. Lucas thinks that sounds like a disappointing wedding menu. Eliott starts eagerly rambling about how their wedding will be so great that everyone will only want ham and crisps at their weddings and caterers will go out of business and somehow Trump is involved because ham isn’t enough of a boner killer, we gotta have Trump mentioned, too. Lucas is kinda amused, with a trace of “huh.”

He talks more about the Ham Cold War and going off on a barge and the sound effect from the Skam hotel clip happens, or at least there’s this low rumbling like it might almost be the motor or mechanics of the boat? Whatever it is, it’s ominous, it signifies this conversation getting less goofy and idealistic, more like reality crashing on Lucas as he realizes something’s off about Eliott.

I like how they shot Eliott in this scene. He’s facing that camera and we’re very close to him, so it adds to the intensity of what he’s saying. The editing is also slightly choppy, some cuts between what Eliott is saying, it’s fractured and disjointed like the thoughts in his head, harder to follow.

Eliott just keeps going with this story, like he’s writing a novel in his head involving Trump and making friends with a drug lord and having to deliver weed via boat globally. Like, the kind of thing that could be just messing around, inventing a funny story, except for intense Eliott is about it. It’s making him crack up, he can’t stop laughing. And he doesn’t notice (or care) that Lucas isn’t really following or participating in this story, Eliott is off on his own adventure.

Lucas is just like … wow. Now confused. Either Eliott is drunk as fuck or there’s something really strange happening.

Eliott lies beside Lucas and asks about the Eliotts and Lucases in parallel universes. Then he says they should die tonight. RECORD SCRATCH. Lucas is taken aback to say the least. Why would Eliott say that? Eliott kisses Lucas on the forehead and says he’s kidding. He snuggles up to Lucas and Lucas is bothered. I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t be after your boyfriend casually suggests a double suicide? This ain’t Romeo + Juliet. (Although honestly, I feel like this might be more in line with Even’s characterization, since he’s the one who thinks “the only way to have something forever is by losing it” which would go along with the idea of dying at one’s peak, and he’s also the one making references to death or suicide throughout S3. Eliott doesn’t really talk about death or suicide, as far as I can remember?)

Clip 6 - Ship sinking

It’s later, Lucas is sleeping. He wakes up and Eliott is sitting by the side of the bed watching him. If you didn’t know the twist, you might think Eliott lured Lucas out to this boat to murder him. And here I thought Lucas was the one with the serial killer vibe. Lucas asks if he ever sleeps. Er, have we gotten a ton of hints that Eliott doesn’t sleep? I mean thinking about it, there was no reason for Eliott to be asleep in the cuddle scene in episode 5, because their make-out was in the middle of the day. Not unusual for him to stay awake. Did he say something in the kitchen scene that implied he hadn’t slept? We also didn’t get any middle of the night texts, as with Even. But Eliott says he can’t sleep with someone this hot in the bed. He sounds deadly somber when he says it, though. Lucas smiles and goes back to sleep.

Cut to later. Somewhat blurry lens because Lucas is drowsy and it represents his hazy state of mind. Eliott is naked and lacing up his sneakers. He says he’s going for a swim. Bare ass. Lucas is about to fall back asleep when he’s like … wait a second. He gets dressed, runs around the boat looking for Eliott and calling his name.

Was there a splash? I didn’t hear one. Better if there wasn’t a splash, but then you have no idea where Eliott is. And for Lucas, hearing that whole thing about “let’s die tonight” is going to make him panic even more.

Lucas is yelling and in tears, he calls Lucille. Axel does a nice job here. There’s the sound of police/ambulance/whatever those sirens are in the background, so did they find Eliott? Or are they just thematic at the moment? (The sirens were in the original Skam scene, too.) Lucas asks Lucille to come. Lucas screams and freaks out, he’s shaking.

Lucille shows up on the boat and Lucas tells her what happened. He;s more angry and upset and spitting than Isak, which makes sense with Lucas’ temper. But he’s also unraveling and in tears. Lucas describes how Eliott said he was going for a swim, and he doesn’t think Eliott jumped, but he was naked.

Lucille says they have to hope the cops find him. When Lucas says he doesn’t understand, Lucille screams at him that Eliott is bipolar and broke into the barge. Lucas is like … he said he rented it. Lucille is like, for fuck’s sake, how do you think he paid for it? I dont know, is it totally out of the question Eliott has rich parents who give him a sizable allowance? I assumed Even just charged way too fucking much for that hotel suite or that he wiped out his savings or something, and Eliott could’ve done something similar. Though granted, I don’t know how much a weekend in a French barge costs. Anyway, I guess the point is that Lucas was so wrapped up in the fantasy that he didn’t bother to ask for further details, which is true.

Lucille asks if they smoked, pissed a hell. Lucas says just a little. Lucille says it makes Eliott sick and is bad for him. I mean, as I said about the Skam scene -that’s not Lucas’/Isak’s fault, that’s on Eliott/Even to know what he can and can’t do.

The way they lit and framed Lucille in this scene makes her seem kinda villainous, tbh. Or at least more dominant - it appears like she’s literally looking down at Lucas. I mean, she is very tall, heh.

Lucille gets a call, they’ve found Eliott. Lucas questions if they should call his parents, Lucille is like YES they should, obviously, he was naked in the street after he broke into a barge and he was smoking weed. I cannot disagree with Lucille on this.

Lucas wants to go with Lucille, but Lucille says no, Lucas needs to stay away, Eliott doesn’t love him, he can’t love him, it’s just something inside his head. She says Lucas is nothing to Eliott, he’s just a passing craze. What Lucille doesn’t know is that Lucas ain’t no passing phase, Hakuna Matata. Lucas sits down and cries after she leaves. Deeply dramatic piano music plays as he sobs. It gets a little too soap opera-ish here at the end, although I get that it’s a very intense scene; I just think the impact would’ve been just as great if they dialed it to a 10 instead of an 11. But you know, it’s Skam France.

Yeah, they made Lucille way more of an OTT villain here. I have to assume they’ll give her chance to speak for herself and humanize her like with Sonja, but it felt they escalated her less from someone who was just frustrated and concerned to someone who was operating out of spite, especially with the way they structured the scene. Like Sonja had the “he doesn’t love you” part earlier and she wasn’t like spitting at him. Isak was in disbelief, and she just left him like she was fed up. But they saved that “he doesn’t love you” part here for the final insult, the last knife to the ribs, and they made it more intense, too, like YOU’RE NOTHING TO HIM. Okay, Lucille, we get the picture, you can go back to punishing those kids for eating your gingerbread house.

I was pretty worried that this scene was going to be overly dramatic verging on exploitative, considering Skam France’s tendency to go over-the-top. But actually I think this set of clips was fine, other than the very end which was too much for my taste. The acting was strong and there were some solid directing choices. My biggest criticism is that they could have hinted at Eliott’s mania more before this clip, and that there wasn’t so much foreshadowing for this scene, in my opinion. And with Skam it wasn’t just about the clues that Even was bipolar, either, but the buildup of tension that something was off. Things like Eliott’s texts in the middle of the night about random memes managed to feel ominous, because we knew Even wasn’t sleeping. There are some moments that arguably were supposed to be hints about Eliott being manic, but I didn’t feel like they were so different from the rest of the acting/writing/directing/pacing that they really registered. So overall: buildup weak, payoff good on its own.

Social Media/General Comments

Lucas is shown hacking into the sink from the omelette that Eliott made, but I’m not convinced it wasn’t the paint. He posts a picture of the eggs like “If I get food poisoning, you’ll know why” YES BECAUSE YOUR MOUTHS WERE GUZZLING ART SUPPLIES OFF EACH OTHER LAST NIGHT.

Lucas did like all the meaningful posts on Eliott’s secret IG, like sketches of the rain and piano.

Eliott sleeps and Lucas cuddles him while singing a cover of “Call Your Girlfriend.” Sick Skam reference! (Actually I think Skam France's OG homages are really sweet.)

Lots of Eliott and Lucas couple selfies, with cuddly captions like “Him” or comments like “raccoon <3 hedgehog” emojis. Eliott draws another sketch of their fursonas together in all parallel universes.

Skam France also did something where they posted the sketch with pictures of the three Evaks out at the time, (from Norway, Italia, and France) which was seriously very cute and respectful of them.

Basile is wearing a Game of Thrones T-shirt (”Hodor Hodor Hodor”) in an IG pic and not to judge because I watch Game of Thrones myself, I’m literally wearing socks with the House Targaryen sigil on them right now, but yeah, that sounds about right for his character.

There’s also a dick print on the mural, it seems? For fuck’s sake, how could Eliott and Lucas possibly have any satisfying sex with paint slathered over their junk? Or did they wait until they were finished and just wiped off the paint by plastering their bodies against the mural? Maybe that’s how they cleaned themselves up. But how could you possibly get that good of a penis shape without just like ... dipping your dick into the bucket of paint itself? How could you position your dick and balls against the wall that way to get the imprint? Anyway, Alex and Emma have a bet over whose dick it is. I don’t think it’s anyone’s actual dick, Eliott and/or Lucas just thought it would be funny to paint something that looked like one.

Lucas brings up the Lucille call in a text to Eliott, saying that maybe Lucille had something to tell him, and that Eliott told her to fuck off. Eliott brings up that it’s something they had in common: Eliott told Lucille to fuck off so he could be with Lucas, Lucas told his friends to fuck off so he could be with Eliott (on Friday in the foyer). Well. Not totally the same, Eliott, but I feel like this is almost a diversion from what Lucas wants to know. Eliott says sometimes you have to tell people to fuck off to live your life. Lucas seems appeased by this answer for now, because he doesn’t push the topic, just says he’s happy Eliott is going with them tomorrow to the park.

I am not French so please feel free to correct me on translation or cultural notes.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

#skamfr reactions #skam france reactions

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apparitionism · 6 years

Text

Helicobacter 17

Previously on Helicobacter, everything was right ridiculous. Regardless of whether the long and undisciplined unwinding of twists here has been entertaining, I’ve enjoyed the practice of putting it together. Free-associating was great; getting from that initial hellscape—poor JK!—to the koans to the raccoons. Et cetera. In sixteen prior installments! No actual pies were injured in the making of this story, which I think shows laudable restraint on my part. Oh, I did finally figure out how to get that one troublesome shoutout in, though you may find it a bit of a shoehorn. And there’s that one additional little backgroundy twisty twist near the end, one that calls back, in a whisper, to an earlier thing... anyway, it won’t be too long before I put some more words up; I’m working on a part of an older unfinished piece and may also float a couple trial balloons for new things. Stay tuned.

Helicobacter 17

“Are you sure you want me to put my shirt on?” Helena heard Myka ask. She had turned her back to allow Myka to change out of the hospital gown and back into her clothes—to enable Myka to do it, really, because Helena was in the end only human, and their physical relationship had not reached a point at which any sort of unclothing could be casually received—and now Helena was reminded of being in her kitchen, of listening to Myka’s disembodied voice explaining the plan, of having no effective way to respond to what was being said. “Trousers are next,” Myka went on, “but feel free to stop me anytime.”

“I am terrible at being good,” Helena said, resolutely not turning her head, “and so the universe gave me you. To test me, over and over again.”

Myka laughed. “Just so you fail every now and then. You can turn back around; all that’s left are my shoes.” Helena did then turn around, on some level expecting Myka to be naked, as one of those perpetual tests. Instead, she was in fact fully dressed, pulling a boot onto her right foot. Helena couldn’t hold back a little sigh of disappointment, and Myka laughed again. “What should I say in the note I leave my mom tonight?”

“What is so appealing to you about sneaking out? Is it the thrill of the forbidden? Should I worry that you’ll lose interest when both your mother and the overall prohibition are gone?”

“My honest answer about whether you should worry is, ‘how should I know?’ My hopeful answer is, ‘of course not.’ As for the sneaking out, it’s mostly for my mom’s benefit at this point. She doesn’t want to have to show how pleased she is to have the place—a place—to herself. Once in a while.”

Puzzling. “I thought your father took many fishing trips.”

“It’s only when Mom’s gone, really. He doesn’t say much about it, but he’s happiest when they’re together.” She finished with her boots, stood up, and began to tidy the bed. She looked over her shoulder at Helena. “Maybe you’ll want to go fishing only when I’m out of town.”

“I don’t know how to fish,” Helena said. She added a silent And now I don’t want to learn. But why keep silent? Why was her first instinct to censor such words? So she said, “And now I don’t want to learn.”

Myka turned back to the bed. She said a warm “Good.”

“Your father did invite me, however.”

A chuckle. “You should go, and Skype and Facetime and text and DM me every chance you get, on lots of different devices. Send me emails too. He’ll lose his mind.”

“What if I tell him about the aquatic abilities of raccoons?”

Myka spun around again, her mouth open in comic protestation. “I’ll never forgive you! I want to annoy him, not give him a heart attack. Besides, you should bear in mind that he’s the one who bought a very significant textbook lot.”

“My gratitude is stipulated.”

“Plus, and I realize this matters to me more than to us, he got me Georgeliot.”

“Under duress,” Helena noted.

Myka nodded. “Sometimes it takes a little duress for people to do the exactly-right thing.”

“So if I happen to come home some evening and am greeted not by you but by a large gaze of raccoons, I should assume there’s some right course of action I’ve failed to take?”

Myka pulled her into a half-embrace and bestowed a swift kiss, recalling the tactility of the rehearsal dinner. “I really like that you just said ‘come home.’”

Helena resolved to say “come home” far more often. “And not even under duress,” she said.

Another swift kiss. “I also really like that you know the collective noun for raccoons.”

“I like that you like that I know it.”

“I like that too.” Myka’s expression changed from affectionate to sly. “Want to sneak out of the hospital?”

“No.”

Myka pouted. “You are no fun at all.”

Rolling her eyes at the pout—which managed to be annoying and attractive at the same time—Helena said, “To test me, over and over again. And I’d like to add that that’s a ‘no’ in perpetuity, because—”

“No fun.”

“Will you let me finish? In perpetuity, because I don’t want to be in any hospital so as to have occasion to sneak out of it.”

The pout dissolved. “Oh. That’s reasonable.”

“Now call your mother back in here,” Helena said, “so we can get on with leaving, so we can get on with working—”

“And back to no fun,” Myka interrupted, herself back to the pout.

“And back to, will you let me finish? So we can get on with working, so the day can get on with ending, so you can then get on with sneaking out.”

Now the pout became a familiarly brilliant smile. “Oh. That’s even better than reasonable.”

The half-embrace became full.

****

When Helena opened her door to Myka after the promised, and much-anticipated, sneaking out, it was the hospital room again: no one lunged. Instead they looked.

One beat, two. Unhurried because there was at last no hurry? Or were they waiting for something?

Then Myka said, “This is different than before. Both times. Me standing here.”

“This is different than before,” Helena agreed. She glanced down at the ring on her finger, as if it might itself be the explanation.... it glittered back, wise and clear. A symbol, but not the cause, of everything that stood differently around them, how they stood differently before each other.

Myka spoke again. “Belief is a good look on you.” She took a slow breath. “Then again, I think just about everything’s a good look on you.”

On that, Helena’s memory barked a shin. “Wait. How do you know what I look like in a hardhat?”

“I have a vivid imagination,” Myka said. She stepped inside and kicked the door closed.

The kick was strong and deliberate, but not overpowering; Helena was able to respond, somewhat calmly, “While I know that’s true, I don’t believe it represents a truthful answer to my question.”

Myka’s mouth shaped into a languid smile. It was even more deliberate than the kick. “You really want to know? Fine. One morning Abigail was giving me grief about how she was going to be meeting you at the neighborhood site. This was right after the committee was formed, and I thought that maybe Steve would come with you, and that that would mean the whole committee was there, and I could pinpoint, and you’d be there too, so... you see how I thought the plan was going to come together. But as it turned out, no Steve.”

“So no pinpoint.”

“No pinpoint, and so I felt really silly, lurking around a corner like I was part of some pathetic, busted sting operation, ready with my camera and telephoto lens, but then there wasn’t a drug deal after all. Then again, I did get to hyperventilate about how irresistible you were in that hardhat.”

“But not irresistible.”

“No, seriously.”

“Perhaps seriously, but not literally. You resisted, did you not? Remained out of sight, around the corner?”

Myka paused. “Fine. You win.” She paused again. “But only in the short term.”

“I win only in the short term?”

“I resisted only in the short term. I mean, look at me.”

Helena obliged, and Myka wrapped her arm around Helena in her now-familiar loop, this time as a clear prelude to what would come next. “You do not appear to be the picture of resistance,” Helena acknowledged.

“Good. But obviously resistance was never really on the table. Case in point: that disaster with Ben, the guy in Accounting, happened right after my attempted ring bust.”

“The PTA-meeting fellow. The dressing-down.”

“Which was supposed to put the fear of god, or just shame and unemployment, squarely into all of us.”

“Instead you called me,” Helena said.

“See? I couldn’t resist. I remember you practically ripped my head off.”

“Abigail had made very clear to me that the situation was no longer abstract or humorous. given how you would react to such a public mortification... will you be all right with the consequences of the ‘truth’ about us becoming known now? Whatever those consequences may be?” Helena asked, out of genuine curiosity.

To her surprise, Myka laughed at that. “Given that a lot of the people I work with have both seen you and heard you, I might just get high fives rather than any metaphorical pies to the face.” She turned serious. “But regardless, even if I have to cringe my way through some of it, I’m going to remember that the real consequence is that our situation, yours and mine, doesn’t have to be abstract anymore.”

“Humorous, surely,” Helena said, pressing herself close into that bodily loop.

Myka smiled. “I hope so. But Abigail did try to make the gravity clear to me too. She shoved the ring at me, told me to take it and return it. I almost agreed to.”

“But?”

“But I realized that if it was in my possession again, I was going to track you down. Partially because you were so on fire to keep me out of trouble, and that was... well, irresistible.” She placed her lips softly against Helena’s temple: a gesture of proof. “I have to believe there’s a way out of any box, if you’re willing to work hard enough to find it. Even though that box, then, seemed to be collapsing on us.”

“Like a poorly constructed architectural model,” Helena said, but she thought of that sturdy little community center, flanked by those valiant trees. “You are persistent.”

“Maybe it was because I’d heard the word ‘cancer,’ but I knew what I wanted. Who I wanted. Really, at long last. It was such a relief.”

And Helena considered that Myka wasn’t wrong, not at all. She herself had received no such mortality shock, yet it was still a relief to know with such seeming clarity: this. It was also a relief, now, to be able to act on that knowledge unencumbered. “And at last we can—”

“Wait,” Myka said. “Grapefruit.”

“All right. Turnabout. I see. Interestingly, or not, it also involves a grief-giving from Abigail. It was when she and Steve koaned me. I don’t believe they were yet a committee...” The half-embrace was turning full again; Myka’s ‘wait’ was clearly not intended as any sort of prohibition, but Helena continued, “Abigail was having fun, asked what I liked for breakfast, rubbing in the fact that you and I did not, and would not, share it. ‘There is no grapefruit’ was said, to make me feel terrible.”

Helena realized she’d drawn her expression into severity only when Myka began kissing it gentle. “My poor baby,” she murmured.

The addition of “my.” Entirely right, yet entirely a surprise in its rightness. How could anything so apparently destined be composed of so many pieces that Helena did not expect? “I was wearing a hardhat at the time,” she told Myka. Then she pushed. “Can you imagine? Perhaps you can...”

“Now you’re just showboating,” Myka said, but her hands moved in a way that suggested “just showboating” meant “issuing clear instructions.”

Whatever instructions Helena had inadvertently given, they were exactly the right ones. “Mm,” she said. “Trying to hold your interest.”

Myka said, her words another decisive door-kick, “Irresistible. In the long term.”

****

Early in the morning, a bit baffled by the morning (“It’s only Tuesday? We can do this again tonight and it will then be only Wednesday?”), they went to Myka’s apartment for breakfast.

“I thought your mother liked having the place—a place—to herself,” Helena objected.

“This morning I think she’ll like making maternal noises,” Myka said. She insisted they stop and buy grapefruit and Pop-Tarts, “because symbolism is important.” Helena considered objecting but then reckoned that this stood as one of many lessons, and that her life going forward would be easier if she absorbed those lessons as they presented themselves.

“Three,” Jeannie greeted them.

Helena winced: “Please don’t keep count.” Still so small, that number. What would change as the tally increased?

“I read up on that third Emperor Napoleon,” Jeannie informed her, with a Myka-esque innocent blink. “He instituted several much-needed reforms. So on a scale...”

“Oh. Then please carry on.”

“Actually I’d find that a little weird,” Myka said, with a wince of her own.

“That. That’s what you’d find weird. In addition to my family, of course.”

“A little.”

“You could name my first grandchild Napoleon,” Jeannie suggested.

“Really?” Helena said. Not the worst of names. But also: children. Charles and Jane had been talking of having a child, and Helena had thought that when they succeeded in doing so, that would be that, childwise, for the Wells family. And yet... Napoleon?

“Not really,” Myka said. She frowned at her mother.

A thought struck Helena. “Donovan.”

“What?” Now Myka swung her frown toward Helena.

“First there is a mountain.”

Jeannie said, “I remember that song.”

Myka’s face softened. “I don’t hate it.”

“The song, or the name?” Helena asked.

“I’ve never heard the song. I think. But the name is nice.”

“I can’t wait to tell your father,” Jeannie said. “He’s been terrified you’d name your first after the dog.”

“The author, you mean,” Myka said, and the frown was back.

“No, the dog. The one-word version.”

“Why wouldn’t he like that?”

“For a little girl’s dog, it was charming. An actual human?”

“We’ll name her Emilywilson,” Myka declared. “How about that?”

“Sweetheart, your father’s the one you have to reassure about the name. I just want a grandchild. Name it Child One if you want to.”

Helena, hoping to inject a bit of levity, asked, “But then how will little Two feel?”

Myka raised her eyebrows. “More than one? Really?”

Helena had meant it in jest, but... more than one? “We’ll need to talk about it,” she said.

“We will. The things we get to talk about now!” Myka seemed to glow at the very idea.

Helena had a strange and wonderful presentiment of their doing exactly that: talking about things. Coming to real agreement when an issue was essential, reaching détente when it was not. All while the tally grew: Four. Five. Six. Seven. In some universe, surely there were uncountably many Emperors Napoleon, each bettering the previous.

Aloud, Helena instructed herself. Take this lesson from Myka: speak it all aloud. “Uncountably many Emperors Napoleon,” she said.

“Forget Maine,” Myka countered. “We’ll move to Florida and buy a grapefruit orchard.”

“Most likely more profitable than refusing to fish for lobsters,” Helena said. “One and Two will need college funds.”

“Three?” Jeannie suggested.

“I don’t know how much money there really is in citrus, particularly if this cheapskate raids the grove every morning for breakfast. Three might have to be one of those pretty never-children,” Myka told her. Then she turned to Helena. “But we’ll need to talk about it.”

“We will,” Helena agreed. The things we get to talk about now... Helena was reasonably certain she was glowing too.

****

Once Myka’s mother and the overall prohibition were gone, Myka did not seem to lose interest. And she and Helena did talk about things. Helena was becoming accustomed to the idea that she would never become accustomed to what Myka would say... happiness pushed up against surprise, always, to make a double bed.

“Here’s a funny thing,” Myka said one morning, standing in Helena’s kitchen, holding a cup of coffee, just as Helena had hoped she might but despaired that she would never.

“Oh god,” Helena responded, because while she was of course thankful for the circumstance under which Myka was speaking, she was still not quite fully thankful for never knowing what she would speak about.

Myka laughed, as she always did. “No, no. It’s just a question; what’s funny is that I never thought to ask you. Why’d you come to the U.S.?”

It was true, though not very surprising, that the topic had not yet come up. Many practical, reality-related issues hadn’t yet come up, perhaps in part due to temperament but mainly due to time. Helena could still easily count their nights... then again she might always keep that count, reflexively. Joyfully? Myka was looking at her, so Helena said, “Sorry. Preoccupied by a number—”

“Thirty-six?”

“That’s the one.”

“We should give each other cards for significant ones. Maybe the primes?”

“Tomorrow, then. I’ll bring you flowers as well... no, I’ll have them sent to you at City Hall.”

At work, Myka had in fact been high-fived more than she had received pies to the face. Apparently most people’s hearts weren’t made of stone, and it was true that Myka was porous when it came to the extent of her happiness. Not to mention, her illness had banked her some goodwill... but it was most likely Myka herself, being herself, that led to the indulgent responses.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Myka accused, but not seriously. “You, to the U.S., why?”

“It isn’t a very interesting story,” Helena said. “Not nearly as interesting as your gratifyingly enthusiastic response to receiving flowers. But since you ask: my mother was fascinated with America, and Americans, when she was young. She instilled it in me, I suppose, and so when I was deciding where to study...”

“I thought that kind of fascination usually went the other way—Americans love the British. The accent, the royal family. Scones. I know my mom did, and I guess she instilled that in me, if we take you as evidence. But so why did your mother—”

“She had an American penfriend.”

“A pen pal?”

“Yes, that. I heard about her my entire childhood, not least because I was nearly named after her.”

“I can’t imagine you not being ‘Helena.’ What was it you were nearly named? And why weren’t you?”

“Jeannette,” Helena said promptly. “Or, as my mother always called her, ‘American Jeannette,’ and in fact that might have been my name, but my father prevailed, because my mother had been the one to name Charles. Although now that I think about it, I don’t know why she wanted his name to be Charles. It isn’t a family name, not that I’m aware, and his ears were of perfectly average size, thus no connection to the prince, so I—”

“I’m going to take a wild stab here,” Myka said. She had set her cup down and crossed her arms, and she was regarding Helena with what was, even for her, an enigmatic expression.

“Are you? At what?”

“Your mom’s name is Sarah.”

Nonplussed, Helena said, “That stab wasn’t wild at all. It was in fact... wait.” No.

“Okay,” Myka said.

“No. Oh no. No.”

“Always with the same bad argument.” Myka’s smile. As if she had always known... but she couldn’t have. So: her smile, as if she had always been—would always be—willing to believe.

“I don’t understand,” Helena said. She didn’t. At no turn had she understood.

Myka said, “Well, me neither.” But she moved across the wide space of the kitchen; she put her arms around Helena, and that was something Helena did understand.

A kiss, a long one, and she understood that too. “Words about destiny,” she said, when she could.

Myka said, familiarly, against Helena’s neck, “Does it really even matter why?”

“I don’t enjoy being set up.”

“You were set up with me.” Still familiar, still against her neck.

“That improves the situation,” Helena conceded. “Marginally.”

“I’m going to make you regret that addition.”

“Are you?” Now it was Helena’s turn to put lips where they would be familiar. And persuasive.

Myka chuckled. “Depends on how you thought you’d be spending the next several decades.”

Helena determined to take this literally. She leaned back and moved her left hand in front of Myka’s face. “I have a ring, my acceptance of which indicates that ‘married to you’ is my thinking in the matter. More-detailed projections are your job.” This was true: speculating about the gamut of possibilities, from fantastical citrus groves to children, real or never-, delighted Myka.

“Speaking of projections,” Myka said, “I don’t think it’s too crazy to predict, based on this new information, that the wedding—which was already going to be fantastic!—just got that much better. My mom always wondered what happened to her pen pal from England.”

“Is there any prediction that you would consider ‘too crazy’? But my mother wondered too.”

“Both busy raising daughters destined for each other.” This Myka emphasized with a kiss, but...

...so chancy, all of it. “What if it hadn’t happened?” Helena demanded, as if Myka would be able to say. “What if something in this Rube-Goldberg destiny had gone wrong?”

“What if it had? Well, what if it already did? For all you know, this is destiny’s backup plan. She tried a ton of other ways, but then finally threw her hands in the air and said ‘Go forth and matchmake, Helicobacter pylori!’”

Speaking of throwing one’s hands in the air: Helena didn’t perform the action, but, “I give up,” she said. “You win: it’s H. pylori’s fault.”

“Bank on it,” Myka said, her words accompanied by a bright-eyed smile that spoke equally to their past, their present, their future. She followed that with a kiss that was soft and sure, a word about the short term, a promise of the long. “But better yet, bank on me.”

END

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krystalkoya · 5 years

Text

Ad Hoc | 01

So I finally did it. My first published fic, hopefully it’s not as cringe as I think it is. If y’all like this let me know. I have a couple ideas for this fic that I won’t completely give up on if at least one person likes this

read on ao3!

pairing: coworker!hoseok x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (the superior trope!), future angst, future smut (18+), humour

rating: nc17

word count: 3.1k

chapter warnings: none!

———

Summary: Landing your dream job as an advertising exec at Kim Entertainment straight out of college was nothing like you imagined. Mostly due to the fact that your college rival, Jung Hoseok, sits ten feet away from you and never misses an opportunity to make your life a living hell. When a position opens up at the firm to be chief of advertising, you jump at the opportunity, but not without having to go up against Hoseok who is also vying for the position. In a dirty game of deception and betrayal, the last thing you expect to come out of it is love.

Series Masterpost

———

Dear god if you had to sit through another minute of this goddamn staff meeting you were going to kill yourself. That is, if the meeting didn’t bore you to death first.

Ever since the company had come under new management a few months ago, the new manager, Minho, had instituted routine monthly meetings to go over the company’s goals, its relationship with clients, projected sales for the year… you know, all that business mumbo jumbo.

And that was all fine and dandy. In fact, you actually thought the meetings were beneficial… if they were being held once every few months or so, not every damn month of the year. But, like a good employee, you faithfully attended each monthly meeting just to hear that nothing had changed since the last one.

If you were being honest, you had no idea how Minho got so far in his career. He was a nice guy, too nice really, a little awkward, but absolutely no balls below the belt whatsoever. The man couldn’t even tell Barbara, the resident granny (who, frankly, was due to retire ten years ago) that she was taking too long on her breaks. And not the socially acceptable one or two minutes late but more like fifteen minute breaks becoming thirties instead.

Looking past the fact that the man seemed the type to be terrified of his own reflection, you guess you could see why corporate hired him — when it came to marketing, he knew his stuff.

Just as you were beginning to ponder what you would be having for lunch that day, a reuben from the sub shop down the street sounded nice, but then again you had been craving Mexican lately…, you suddenly felt a [not-so-light] kick to your shin.

Jerking in your seat, you looked up to see the smirking man beside you. You were about to retaliate with a scolding and an even harsher kick to the shin but before you even had a chance he was he shushing you with a finger to his plump lips, pointing in the direction of Minho to indicate that you should pay attention.

“… to conclude our meeting today, I have some good news pertaining to the advertising department.“ You perked up a little in your seat, thoroughly intrigued for the first time ever first time that day.

“Corporate wants to change things up a bit in the ad department. That’s why they told me to let you all know that a new position is opening up here to be Chief Advertising Officer. CAO if you will.”

At the silence that ensued in response to his attempt at a ‘joke’, Minho took that as his cue to explain it (which only ever makes things worse).

“Get it… CAO, like CEO and CFO. They’re… they’re acronyms.”

“We get it, it just wasn’t funny.” Calls, you guessed it, Barbara from her seat in the back. The only one bold enough to say what everyone else was thinking because she’s set for life. Minho won’t fire her, a) because of the lack of balls situation mentioned earlier, and b) out of fear of securing a lawsuit for age discrimination on their hands.

At this point, it was just better to let the old bat retire on her own terms — she only had about a year left, two tops.

Minho, poor guy, shakes his head defeatedly, ignoring Barb’s comment in favor of finishing his announcement. Chuckling awkwardly, he begins again, “Right… Ah- as I was saying, a new position is opening up to be Chief of Advertising. Corporate wants things to be a little more streamlined in the ad department. They’re thinking a head of advertising position will achieve that. Anyone can apply so if you think you have the necessary skills, by all means have at it. But unless anyone has any further comments or concerns, this meeting’s adjourned.”

Usually you’re already up and on your feet before Minho can say ‘any further questions’ but today you’re left stewing in your seat. As a member of the advertising team here at Kim Entertainment you couldn’t be happier in your current position. But now that this opportunity had been presented to you, you couldn’t turn it away. More creative freedom and a higher salary? There was no way in hell you weren’t getting this promotion.

But with opportunities always come challenges. And you don’t know how you managed to forget one of the biggest challenges standing in your way ever since you started working here a year ago.

“I actually have a question, if you don’t mind.”

God, even the sound of his voice irritates the mother-loving shit out of you.

“Yes, Hoseok, go ahead.” Minho says, slowing in his collection of the papers on his desk.

Jung. Fucking. Hoseok.

“So what differentiates the Chief of Advertising from a regular person on the ad committee? And salary? What’s that like?”

“Of course, yes the perks of the position! You can expect a higher salary. It’s not set and generally depends on your experience and skill set, but it will be higher nonetheless. But some of the other benefits more freedom to work on your own commissions or projects, and you have final say in what ideas get pushed and what doesn’t.”

Everyone and everything that stood in your way could suck your left tit as far as you were concerned — you were getting this job. And fortunately, you would get to bury Jung’s ass in the process, a win-win situation for you.

“And, the interview process. How does that work? Is it just the standard interview and a ‘Congratulations, you got the job’ or a 'Sorry, better luck next time?’ or are they looking for something more?” He asks, arms folded and leaning back in his chair, his head tilted slightly in inquiry.

Despite not wanting to admit it, the man did ask good questions. You had been wondering this yourself.

“Oh! How could I forget! Yes there’s going to be a standard interview but in addition to that they also want to see an example of your own work. A personal project, if you will.”

A personal project? So in other words, they want to see what you can do when you are given full creative control over a project. This works out great because this has been exactly what you wanted to do for a while now. You couldn’t wait until the members of your team let you take the reigns on a project. Sure it was nice having a team to bounce ideas off of but sometimes, the feeling of being shot down for an idea you felt strongly for was disheartening.

“Come see me in my office so I can give you the full rundown of what corporate expects to see from you for this position.” He says looking at Hoseok before adding, “And that goes for anyone else who plans on applying. But for now, meeting adjourned. Let’s keep up the good work guys. I like what I’m seeing, great improvement from last month.”

Literally nothing had changed from last month, but that is the last thing on your mind right now, as it is too preoccupied with figuring out what you are going to do for your personal project. And also, how you are going to make it better than Hoseok’s as he is clearly also interested in the position.

As everyone begins to file out of the conference room, some chatting excitedly with each other, others uninterested in a job offer that has nothing to do with them, you follow suit. As you make the trek back to your desk, a pep in your step while you run over all the possible ideas you have for your personal project, Park Jimin falls into step with you.

He bumps his shoulder against yours as you walk, alerting you of his presence, rather violently, you might add.

“Big opportunity right? I have no doubt you’re applying for it. Or am I wrong?”

You give him a look. “You bet your cute ass I’m applying. I’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. I just have to figure out a way to outdo that asshole Hoseok and I’m set.”

Jimin flashes you a grin saying, “Aww, you think my ass is cute?” He briefly glances back at his derriere, giving himself a pleased smile before he turns back to you. “I’ve been doing this new thing where I incorporate squats into my workouts. They’re killer on leg day but I guess they’re finally paying off. Anyways, what have you got against that guy? Seriously, he’s not a bad dude from what I can tell.”

“Yeah, to you maybe!” you exclaim.

By this time you have reached the break room and Jimin reaches for the coffee pot to pour himself a mug while you watch him, thoroughly annoyed with the direction the conversation has taken. He offers you a cup but you shake your head, leaning against the counter with a sigh.

“Him and I… we have history. Goes back to my college days and I’d rather not relive those thank you very much.”

Jimin turns around to face you, leaning his back against the counter as well as he takes a sip of his coffee. You giggle when he grimaces, presumably because he forgot to add in the appropriate amount of sugar and creamer to the bitter cup of black coffee.

His next statement, however, wipes the grin right off your face.

“Ooh, a romantic tragedy. Tell me more. What, did he dump you for another girl and now you’ve got some sort of vendetta against him? Spicy. Tell me more.”

“What? No! Absolutely not. First of all, I’ve never dated nor will I ever date that asshole. And second of all, why couldn’t I have been the one dumping him?”

Jimin shrugs, muttering into his mug as he takes a sip, “I guess it could’ve gone that way too. But it’s easier to imagine him dumping you because… and don’t take this the wrong way… you’re you.”

Okay ouch. You’re offended to say the least. “And what is that supposed to mean?!?” You explode. You were doing that a lot today. Jimin must be in the mood for mischief.

“I tell her not to take it the wrong way and what does she do, she takes it the wrong way,” he mutters into his coffee mug, almost as if he’s talking more to himself than to you.

“Listen, no offense, but you didn’t seem like the type to be popular throughout college, or high school, or… at all really. You’ve got this quirky, kinda awkward, vibe going on with you. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute but you don’t strike me as the type to be the ‘life of the party’.” Despite the fact that you’re glaring daggers into the side of his head right now, he elaborates. Unfortunately for you (and fortunately for Jimin), looks can’t kill.

“…Hoseok on the other hand radiates 'I was popular my entire life’ type of energy. I was thinking maybe you two hooked up or even dated for a bit but he dumped you to avoid jeopardizing his social status. Again, no offense to you or anything. If anything I’m offending him, because he was the asshole in this hypothetical situation.“

"You’ve put lots of thought into this haven’t you?” You say incredulously, truly astounded by how elaborate his story is.

Jimin takes a sip of his coffee (now appropriately sweetened) and sighs dramatically. “Sadly, yes. I’m afraid it’s kept me up into the wee hours of the morning for several nights now. So please, do me a favor and tell me what happened. I’m right aren’t I?”

Try as you might to deny it Jimin was right. At least partially. The part about about you and Hoseok dating or hooking up or whatever definitely wasn’t true, but is is true that the two of you ran in different social circles. You were more likely to be caught with your head in a textbook than at a party, where Hoseok seemed to have spent at least 40% of his time in college.

With a sigh you relent, dropping your guarded stance and admitting your defeat.

"Ok, fine, you might be onto something.” Jimin’s eyes widen excitedly and you’re quick to elaborate before he can get anymore ideas.

“Hoseok and I were never together in any way, thank god, but it is true that we were at completely separate ends of the social spectrum.”

Jimin smirks proudly but you pointedly ignore him.

“And… there was a brief moment in time where we were actually friends, or acquaintances, I guess? But that didn’t last long.”

“Friends? The two of you?”

“Very briefly. We stopped being friends when I found out he was a gigantic asshole. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s get back to talking about that promotion. I was thinking– ”

“Promotion? You mean the one I’m going to get?”

At the sound of a voice that didn’t come from one of the two of you, you and Jimin snap your head around to see Hoseok standing near the doorway of the breakroom.

Unfortunately for you the universe had not answered your calls for a stress free day void of having to interact with the devil in a suit standing a couple feet away from you. Better luck tomorrow.

“Ew, have you just been standing there like a creep listening to our conversation this entire time?” you scowl out at him.

Hoseok shakes his head, hands in his pants pockets and a sly smirk on his face as approaches. He walks past the both of you, not paying you any mind, as he stops at the coffee machine and pours himself a cup.

“No. Trust me, I have better things to do than eavesdrop on your conversations. I just happened to come in and I heard the two of you talking about the new job offer opening up.” He’s not even looking at you, the pretentious prick, too focused on stirring in the appropriate amount of creamer into his cup.

“Want some advice?”

“I don’t ” you bite back.

He ignores you. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get your feelings hurt when I get the job so I wouldn’t even bother applying if I were you.”

He’s still stirring that stupid cup of coffee and the fact that he’s not even looking at you while he insults you, like you’re not even worth the time of day, is extremely infuriating.

At this point you are seething, but you try your very best to not to go off on him as much as you want to. Working with him on a daily was already difficult but now that you two are vying for the same position? Oh, things are only about to get a hell of a lot worse.

“Thanks for your concern, but if you’re so sure that you’ve got this job already then you won’t mind if I go ahead and apply then. Since you don’t consider me to be any competition then it should be fine, right? Or did I read this all wrong and you’re actually worried I might get the job over you?”

Finally finished meddling with his coffee, he licks the red stirrer clean with his tongue and discards it with a flick into the trash can nearby. Mug in hand he spins around and leans against the counter, flashing a smug grin your way. And you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t affect you at least a smidgen. His smile was stunning, smugness to it and all. So what, he’s attractive. You still hated the man’s guts.

“I tried to warn you so I don’t wanna see any tears when I get it. But I suggest you get used to calling me 'Chief’ from now on. Has a nice ring to it doesn’t it?”

And before you can respond he’s already brushing past you and heading back to his desk, no doubt thoroughly enjoying the fact that he got the last word in while you’re left to gape like a fish out of water.

There’s a moment of silence while Jimin just stares at you seething at Hoseok’s retreating form disappearing into the main room. You almost forgot he was there at all until he finally speaks.

“God, the sexual tension between you two is strong. Can’t you guys just fuck already and end… whatever this is…?”

“Jimin!” you exclaim at him. “What you just witnessed was not sexual tension. It was just passionate mutual hate for each other.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“You know what, fuck you.”

Jimin’s airy laugh floods your hearing and you wonder not for the first time how someone so mischievous could look so innocent.

“Listen, I just need your support with this, can I trust you to give me that?”

“Right, about that. I was thinking of applying for the position too.”

You give him an incredulous look. He can’t be serious.

“Jimin, you’re in accounting.”

“So? You heard the boss man. He said anyone could apply!”

“Yes, anyone with the right credentials. Do you have a degree in marketing or advertising or any other remotely related field? No you don’t. Come on Jimin, I don’t have time for this right now. I’ve already got enough on my plate dealing with Hoseok, I don’t need to add you to the mix.”

“Relax, I’m just kidding. My department can’t lose me. I’m the best accountant they have. And trust me, you have my full support. I have no doubt you’ll get the job.”

You give Jimin a bright smile and thank him dearly. Despite being a pain in your ass at times, he really was a great coworker and friend at that. He’s one of the few people always reassuring you when you’re nervous about a pitch or an idea you have in mind.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. You hated to admit it but Hoseok was good at his job. If there was anyone who could beat you out of this promotion it was him, not to mention you have no idea who else was considering applying for the position as well. But you were determined. You had to get this job. And you’d bury Hoseok and whoever else decided to go up against you to get it. But first things first… you needed a project idea.

#hoseok x reader #bts series #jhope x reader #coworker hoseok #office au #future smut #future (slight) angst

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