#also if it takes you that long to realize basic things about the world and the way it operates you're just stupid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has a low social media market share in South America.

#also if it takes you that long to realize basic things about the world and the way it operates you're just stupid

quinnfebrey · 5 months

Text

it’s really funny that taylor has adopted a reputation for being well-read and book smart because every time she opens her mouth about a real world issue i am forcibly reminded that she stopped going into school after 10th grade (her words), and even then, her formal education was provided by the state of tennessee.

because… what?

to frame patriarchy as this inherent thing that has ALWAYS existed and is as naturally occurring as a blue sky, is just not true. and to frame capitalism as this thing that is inherent is also just… not true. i could never unpack in just a post why those claims are ahistorical, but i will say that it is fucking nuts to look at an issue of capitalism and say “yeah it’s a problem, but, well, i’m just going to win at it 🤩” and call it feminism.

and that is the problem with white feminism. it just turns into idiots trying to speak on single topics and cherry pick their agendas, even though, in a sociopolitical or socioeconomic sense, it doesn’t work like that. you cannot talk about feminism without discussing western society, organized religion, global superpowers, communities of color, colonization, climate change, corporations, monopolies and more. anything less is useless at best and misleading at worst.

(because when you don’t, you get brain dead hot takes like “patriarchy has existed since the dawn of time, and so has money!”)

it’s like how greta thunberg said that she started as just a climate change activist, but now she’s basically a total anti-capitalist advocating for a complete disruption and overthrow to the way the world currently runs because she realized that advocating for that and advocating for climate justice are one and the same.

and if you criticize taylor swift for talking out of her ass, you’ll be hit with brainwashed swifties throwing out the word “misogyny” or “you’d never ask another celebrity this” or “you’re holding her to her own standards” because they’ve been hearing taylor’s bullshit feminism for so long that now they’ve adopted it as their own

taylor’s feminism will NEVER surpass the self-serving role it fills in her life because to do so would mean confronting the bigotry she has upheld, the questionable people she spends her time with, the wealth she is hoarding, her impact on the environment, and much more.

which is… fine, i guess. she doesn’t have to be a good feminist. but in that case she needs to pick a side and shut her fucking mouth about it. because letting her romp around spewing out the most egocentric and individualistic interpretations of it is boring and unhelpful.

#*#i knew that quote kept sticking out to me #like girl what the hell #taylor swift #time magazine #person of the year #white feminism

2K notes · View notes

yeagerfate · 10 months

Text

seeing you without makeup for the first time

characters: miguel o’hara, miles morales (earth-1610), pavitr prabhakar, hobie brown, gwen stacy

warnings: none!

notes: thanks so much to @rulaineyu for letting me use this idea! check her blog out if you’re a genshin fan, her works are really well-written and entertaining! requests are open! thanks so much for all the love on my previous posts, it means so much to me!

To be honest, Miguel doesn’t even notice. You’d been as little fatigued, having been extremely overworked lately, and just decided not to. When you visited Miguel’s office, you almost wanted him to compliment you, though you knew that wasn’t what your Miguel was like. Something in his mind was telling him something was out of the ordinary, but he just ignored it. Finally, he realizes what’s actually different when he overhears you talking about it with Hobie, (he says he likes the inconsistency), and he feels so bad for not seeing it before.

The next time he sees you, he tells you that he thinks you look pretty. He doesn’t mention the make-up thing at all because he doesn’t want you to think he’s complimenting you just to please you. When your cheeks turn a little red, and you stutter when saying thank you, Miguel smiles to himself proudly.

It doesn’t take Hobie long to notice. Sometimes, he wears make-up to his concerts, so he knows the basics. It makes him happy to see your natural face for the first time. He thinks you’re beautiful, with or without make-up, and he tells you so. “Thank you,” You said. “I think you look handsome, too, with or without make-up.” He’s a bit more clingy, which surprises you, but he just likes to see you be a bit more vulnerable than usual. Hobie also enjoys talking with you about make-up, and what you like to use. He’s not new to it, but it’s always nice to get some tips so he can look perfect!

Miles can tell you’re a bit nervous about his reaction to something, but he doesn’t know what it is. He’s aware that you’re not wearing make-up, but he doesn’t think much of it. Miles is a bit naive when it comes to beauty standards and the makeup world, so he doesn’t really know how nerve-wracking it can be to not put on anything for the first time. As always, though, he tells you that he thinks you look lovely, which is always nice to hear. On a whim, he decides to ask you about it. “Are you okay? Is there something wrong? You look a little anxious.” You grin sheepishly and tell him you were just nervous about his reaction to you not wearing make-up for the first time because of the asshole boyfriend you had before him. Good luck! Miles will not be leaving you alone for the next week at minimum :)

Even though he doesn’t wear it, Pavitr loves makeup, so he definitely notices. As always, he gushes about how beautiful he thinks you are. He holds your face in his hands and studies the natural shade of your lips, your natural eyelashes… he thinks you’re a beauty. Like Hobie and Miles, I think he’d also be a bit more clingy and affectionate. The next time Pavitr comes back to headquarters, he raves about you to Miles and Hobie, who are both happy for him and a little uncomfortable. Oh well. They’ll just have to hear about it until he goes back home!

Gwen has done your makeup multiple times, for fun and for parties, so she knows. She’s already stopped wearing makeup around you occasionally, and you were extremely supportive, so she wants to be the same for you. However, Gwen is always a bit shy when it comes to vocalizing how she feels, so she’ll feel a bit anxious. She doesn’t want you to think you look ugly without makeup, but it’s a bit nerve-wracking for her to say what she wants so say. Eventually, she gains the courage to do so, and the way your eyes brighten when she does tell you how pretty she thinks you are is something priceless.

#atsv fluff #atsv x reader #itsv fluff #itsv x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy fluff #gwen stacy x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar fluff #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #fanfiction #x reader

3K notes · View notes

just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months

Text

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.”

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?”

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.”

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow.

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels.

There’s no way he could’ve denied her.

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that.

“You coming?”

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit.

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.”

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.”

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet.

“Oh hey, can I help you?”

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute!

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-”

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer.

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both.

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?”

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.”

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?”

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?”

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that?

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.”

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-”

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!”

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones.

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.”

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox.

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.”

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him.

Legs.

And an ass.

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile.

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe.

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament.

It’s Good Housekeeping.

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again.

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with.

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

1K notes · View notes

mockerycrow · 6 months

Note

HELLO the biggest congrats on 4k, you absolutely deserve that and so many more!!!

Could I see a female!reader x Ghost with the prompt:“I had a nightmare . . . can I stay with you tonight?”

TY and yet again, congratulations 🤍🤍🤍

REASSURANCE (Ghost x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; thank you so much anon <3 i hope you enjoy!

[WARNINGS; not proofread (like most of my fics), silent panic attack + light dissociation, implied you’ve never seen his face, hurt/comfort.]

You know Ghost has nightmares—everyone knows Ghost has nightmares. No one really wants to talk about it because he doesn’t, but everyone has seen the man up at ungodly hours of the night, or perhaps beating the absolute shit out of a punching bag at the on-base gym.

No one except for Price knows what Ghost’s been through, but no one really questions him. It’s unrealistic to think Ghost is the only one waking up due to their dreams—even Price does on the occasion. What Ghost doesn’t do is ask for help.

You had a weird gut feeling about tonight; you weren’t really restless, but you weren’t tired. Every time you laid down to try to get some sleep, your eyelids would slowly open back up. You tried multiple methods; white noise, thinking about nothing, thinking about a story, taking a sleep remedy—nothing.

You had a weird tightness in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. It’s no big deal, you’ve had several nights like this. Nights where you stay up, half expecting something to happen. You aren’t sure if its the military-esque anxiety flaring up, expecting an attack of some sort or if it’s just one of those nights.

You’re laying in bed, trying to think of what you have to do tomorrow. Might as well try to think of something useful, right? Let’s see, you have to do morning training and then you have to eat, brief with price, it’s your turn to help the armourer—the weapons master, you like to say to piss them off—and you also have to do paperwork.

A very tame evening, you think, avoiding the Q word everyone oh so desperately hates; including yourself. Because the second you say it, you’re going to be called by Laswell, or General Shepherd, or some other CIA federal agent bureaucrat about some fucking thing that’s happening in the god forsaken world that only, and only task force 141 can handle—

—Someone knocks on your door, breaking your disorganized thoughts. Your eyebrows furrow; no one should be up, maybe Price is, or Ghost. Did you forget some paperwork? You sit up, slip your slides on your feet, and you walk to the door. You unlock the door and open it, wincing from the bright light of the hallway pouring in, and you’re met with the large figure of Ghost.

You blink, unsurprised. “Hey.” You utter. “Did I wake you?” God, Ghost sounds rough. It sounds like he garbled glass—er, maybe that isn’t the nicest way to describe one of your superiors voices right now. It’s clear he just woke up. You shake your head in response, stepping aside. “Here, come in. It’s bright.”

Ghost silently obeys, stepping inside of your room. You close the door and head over to your desk. You feel around in the darkness until you feel your lamp and you click a button, turning it on, illuminating the room just enough for you to see Ghost. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants with one of his black, long-sleeve compression tops to go with it.

He’s wearing a basic black balaclava without the iconic skull, but.. His eyes are different. Distant and weary, cautious—panicked almost. Your eyebrows furrow together as his broad shoulders are tense, fists clenched.

“Ghost..” You call softly. He seems far away—he needs your help. “Ghost.” You say more insistently and louder, noticing the way his chest is barely moving. “Ghost, hey, can y’hear me? You need to take a breath..” You murmur, slowly approaching him.

He’s frozen but you see how his eyes flicker towards you, taking a moment realize where he is. You offer a soft smile you always show him and you nod. “There you are, big guy. Can I touch you?” You make sure to ask because you never know; a soldier during a flashback, touching them? That can be fatal—you trust Ghost as you don’t think he would ever hurt you, but you never know a person.

It takes him a moment to nod, which makes you promptly and gently grab his wrists. You gently guide him to your bed, and you sit him down. You’re nervous—you’re about to calm him down in one of the only ways you know how to, but you’re worried about the consequences you’ll receive afterwards. Oh well, you don’t care, not when Ghost’s eyes are as unfocused as they are.

The bed dips under his weight and you gently spread his legs, standing between them. You grab his arms; they’re deadweight, but his eyes flicker some recognition, allowing you to guide his arms around your waist. You guide his head to lay against your stomach, your hands cradling his masked jaw and the back of his neck.

Ghost takes in a harsh, shuddery breath which makes you hum in approval. “There you go, Ghost. Breathe, you’re alright.” You say in a mellow manner, your thumb brushing over his masked cheek. Ghost takes in another harsh breath as his arms tighten around you. You continue to try to ground him, talking and praising him for his efforts to stay calm. You know he isn’t in the right mind, but you’re still shocked he’s allowed you to touch him for as long as you have.

Something in your gut unravels as Ghost pulls his head away ever so slightly, ripping his mask off and throws it away like it was constricting his breathing. He buries the side of his face back into your stomach, taking you by surprise. Your met with his blonde hair in the low light, your heart stuttering.

You hesitate only for a moment before you bury a hand in his hair on the back of his head, your other hand returning to his jaw, your heart hammering as you note he has stubble as well as something on his skin, like deep scar tissue.

Ghost lets out a noise which you quickly hum in response. “It’s okay, let it out.. Won’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You assure him, causing another noise to escape him, almost like a laugh. “Kinda hard t’do that when a pretty girl is comfortin’ you.” He croaks, his voice broken—both his voice and sentence making your brain short circuit. You laugh in return, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Shush,” You murmur. “Just relax.”

Ghost nods against your stomach, shakily exhaling. You stay like that for a while; neither of you are sure for how long, and neither of you care. You’re enjoying the rare vulnerability Ghost is displaying, and he’s enjoying the grounding touch you’re currently providing him. The silence is comforting as you comb your fingers through his hair, and you enjoy the weight of his head and his arms.

“I had a nightmare…” Ghost utters. You hold your breath as he looks up at you, and oh god, he’s hot. “..Can I stay with you tonight?” You’re mesmerized by the way his nose is curved—clearly has been broken a couple of times and wasn’t reset right—by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his big, beautiful brown eyes.. You nearly forget to respond. “Yes,” You push out, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension between his brows. “Always.”

1K notes · View notes

ktgoodmorning · 1 month

Text

Silent Communications

(love language series- physical touch)

Mapi Leon x Reader

Inspired by the love language physical touch- The team doesn't know you and Mapi are dating and you struggle to keep it hidden throughout your away game travels

Words of affirmation felt too obvious of a choice for the Mapi fic. I swear that eventually I will manage to write something shorter and less fluffy but today is not that day. Anyways, I'd love any feedback or requests any one has, my inbox is always open.

The rest of the love language series:

Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation

Masterlist

The team was unaware of your relationship with Mapi. Everyone knew you had been best friends for most of your lives and attributed your closeness to that. They knew you tended to be touchy and cuddly together but still never thought much of it because the two of you had always been that way. It also helped your case being Spanish. They were completely unaware that your relationship had turned romantic. They’d occasionally tease you for your closeness, but it didn’t bother you. You knew they meant no harm and often you were willing to join in joking.

Eight months ago, you and your best friend confessed your feelings for each other. Growing up together, you had only become closer as you got older. It didn’t surprise you. From the time you were a teenager, you knew your feelings for Mapi were different. For a while you couldn’t pinpoint why, it wasn’t until teammates would tease you about how you were “basically dating” that you realized it was true. Or at least you wanted it to be true. You learned to ignore those feelings, trying to preserve your friendship. It was more important to you to keep her close than to act on your feelings. However things changed when you had caught on that she might be feeling the same way. You’d catch her staring at you, looking at you differently than she used to. She’d always be doing little things to help you out- bringing you coffee, carrying your bag for you, buying you dinner. There were little touches here and there that just felt different. It was always small things but felt so big.

The longer you noticed your best friend acting this way, the more it drove you crazy. One day when you were out to breakfast with Alexia, you decided to get her opinion on the matter. You were tired of trying to ignore your feelings. She knew Mapi just as well as you did, and you knew she’d be honest with you. When you asked her if she thought there was any chance of Mapi sharing your feelings, the older woman looked at you like you were crazy. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “I thought you already knew, that girl’s crazy about you.”

From then on, your world changed. You left your breakfast date with Alexia to go straight to Mapi’s house- a place that was basically your second home. The two of you had a long conversation, spilling your hearts out to each other. You discussed what you wanted to do, how to move forward. Ultimately you had both decided you wanted to try dating but planned to take things slow, making sure you weren’t doing anything that could risk your friendship in the process.

Things couldn’t have gone better. Your friendship transitioned seamlessly into dating. It was better than either of you could have imagined (and you both spent plenty of time imagining it). In the last eight months, you continued to grow closer in ways you hadn’t even known possible and were happier than you had ever been before.

You had decided not to tell anyone about your relationship. It just seemed easier that way. If people knew about your growing romance you’d have to deal with the media, the criticism of teammates dating, the fans, and any outside opinions that didn’t matter to you. Neither of you wanted any of that, you just wanted each other. You didn’t intend to keep it a secret for this long but somewhere along the way you became accustomed to it and it just felt easier than breaking the news.

A few of your closest friends, as well as each of your families, knew but that was it. It felt like it was only fair to tell Alexia since she had been the one to confirm Mapi’s feelings. Other than her, Patri and Pina were the only other ones on the team to know about your relationship. Before you had gotten better at sneaking around, they had walked in on you mid-makeout session on the middle of your couch. You had forgotten they were even coming over when you and Mapi had gotten a bit distracted. It’s safe to say, after that happened the pair of you were much more careful. Even though it wasn’t part of the plan, it was helpful having the three of them clued in. The group of five spent a fair amount of time together so not having to hide around them gave you a chance to relax.

Typically, you and Mapi were good at sneaking around. Because of how close you had been prior to dating, nobody questioned most of the things you did. As long as you weren’t outwardly kissing or saying anything too cheesy, nobody thought much of it. The only time things became harder was when you were traveling as a team. When you traveled, unless you got roomed together, there was no solace of coming back together when training was over and getting to spend time with just the two of you. It was almost harder when you were around each other so much yet never in the way you wanted.

You had been stuck on the bus far longer than you would've liked. Sometimes you were excited to join the other younger players, playing games and turning the bus ride into a social event. Today wasn't one of those days. You weren’t sure where it was you were even going to be playing, you just knew you were exhausted and cranky. You took a seat by yourself in the front, not really interacting with anyone. Mapi was with the much louder group having fun in the back. She could tell you were tired and wanted to give you some space to sleep. She also knew you enough to know that if you were in a bad mood you were going to be clingy and she didn’t want to accidentally let everyone in on your secret. When there was a lull in conversation, Lucy questioned your girlfriend, giving her a suggestive look, “Mapi, where’s your partner in crime? We don’t usually see you two apart.” It was clear Lucy was teasing but also was genuinely curious as to why you weren’t hanging out with them.

“She’s just taking a nap, probably trying to get away from you, idiota,” Mapi rolled her eyes, trying to cover up that she too was a bit concerned about you. It was unusual for you to isolate yourself. She sent you a quick text to check in with you but when she got no response, she decided she needed to come check on you herself.

When the defender stood up, she knew more quips were coming her way. “Ooooh Mapi? Gotta go check on your girlfriend?” The way Mariona sing-songed this made it clear she was joking but Mapi still couldn’t help but panic. She awkwardly laughed and turned away from the other girls, hoping to hide her blush. Patri and Pina shared a quick look as they knew the comment from Mariona would leave their friend panicking. They did everything they could to hold in their giggling while Alexia glared at them, hoping to make them stop. Nobody else seemed to notice this as they went back to their karaoke and left Mapi alone to join you.

You felt someone sit in the seat next to you, immediately recognizing the scent as your girlfriend. Your eyes were shut, trying to sleep, but failing. The side of her leg pressed up against yours and she gently placed her hand on your knee. It was clear to her that you weren’t asleep because of how much you were moving around, trying to get comfortable. “Hey,” she spoke gently, rubbing her thumb against your knee to get your attention. You slowly opened your eyes and Mapi greeted you with a soft smile. “You okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” she spoke softly, voice full of worry.

You nodded, “yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night so I was hoping to sleep on the bus.” You rubbed at your eyes, starting to accept that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Here I’ll stay with you,” you couldn’t help but be grateful at the offer.

Still, you tried to protest, “Maps, no. Go have fun with your friends, I know you like to keep busy on the bus. I’ll be okay.”

The look on your girlfriend’s face made it clear she’d be staying by your side, “Hmm no thanks. We’ll put some headphones on, you can snuggle up against me, it’ll be great. It’ll put you to sleep in no time,” the way she spoke made it clear it was a statement, not a question. It’s not like you would complain, it did sound pretty great. She took your silence as agreement and pulled out her headphones, passing one to you. By the time you had put it in, she had put on a playlist that the two of you had made together. Her arm wrapped around you so you could place your head on her shoulder and use her as a pillow. You couldn’t believe how quickly you fell asleep. Mapi had that effect on you, always putting you at ease.

At some point, your girlfriend had also drifted off. You woke up, still snuggled into her, with her head resting on top of yours, her one arm still around you, and her free hand interlocking yours. This was by far the most comfortable you’d ever been on the bus. You carefully grabbed your phone so as to not wake up Mapi. You had some texts in your group chat with you, Mapi, Alexia, Patri, and Pina. First was a picture from Patri taken from the back of the bus where you could see the tops of your heads lying against each other, you shared earphones hanging between you. It was followed by a text from Pina, “better be careful if you want everyone to keep thinking you’re ‘just friends’ ;) “. You smiled to yourself, knowing she was right, but being too happy right now to care. All you could do was close your eyes and drift back to sleep.

When you eventually got to your hotel and got off the bus, the two of you seemed to be the hot topic of discussion. Everyone was teasing you, first for Mapi giving up her precious social time for you, then for how closely the two of you had cuddled up, and finally for the way your hands remained interlocked as Mapi led you off the bus and into the hotel lobby.

The only downside to Alexia knowing about your relationship was that she knew better than to let you two be roommates on trips like this. You were paired up with Bruna which you really couldn’t complain about, and Mapi got paired with Mariona. With neither of your roommates knowing about your relationship, finding time alone together was about to get much more difficult.

At breakfast the next morning, you went to sit down next to your girlfriend. She stood up to greet you with a hug and a soft kiss on the top of your head. It was likely a bit too long of a hug to be considered friendly but somehow no one commented. Alexia just shook her head, smirking to herself at how obvious you were being. Sitting down at their table, you tried to leave space between you while you ate so as to not raise suspicion, but you should’ve known that it wouldn’t work. Mapi always had to have a hand on you in some way. It was usually subtle, but it sure didn’t make hiding things any easier. You appreciated it though. You liked how she could be talking to anyone and you still knew she was thinking of you. That’s what was happening now as she settled into conversation with Alexia. The silent communication between your touches was better than any words could express.

Your next chance you got to be together wasn’t until after training, back at the hotel. Patri and Pina invited you both to come hang out in their room with them. That’s how you found yourself, laying against Mapi’s chest while she and Patri played FIFA. Her arms wrapped around you tightly while she held her controller in front of you. “Ay, (y/n), did you only come over so you could have time to be all cuddly without the rest of the team around?” Pina quipped at you while you both continued to watch the game, she was somehow both joking and also entirely serious.

Before you could respond, your girlfriend spoke up for you, “hey just be happy this is all we’re doing. We could be making out right now if we wanted to.” She somehow managed to hold you tightly while still playing a close game with Patri. You giggled at how she kept moving under you the more involved in the game she got. “Amor sit still! You’re blocking the screen!” Mapi whined at you, only making you giggle more at how quickly her tone changed. You ended up moving further down to cuddle into her leg so that she could still see. She shot you a glance to make sure you knew she wasn’t actually annoyed with you but relaxed when she saw your soft smile. “Comfortable?” she chuckled lightly at how you burrowed into the side of her leg.

“Did you really have to ask, amor?” you smiled at her before turning back to watch the game she was playing.

All of the sudden you heard the sound of the door opening, making you jump. However when you saw Alexia’s blonde hair round the corner, you quickly relaxed again. “Ooh the lovebirds are here, are you guys just here so you can makeout?” She shot you a smile knowing that you two would always spare them from seeing you be too handsy.

You rolled your eyes playfully at your captain, “you guys always say that but we’ve really only made out in front of you once and it wasn’t even on purpose. And you weren’t even there, Ale!” You sat up a little more so you could see her face.

“Gracias a Dios!” the blonde shot back at you, mirroring your smile.

Deciding to have some fun with this while also taking advantage of this limited time to show affection, you decided to try something. “You know, Ale, if you wanted us to be like that, all you had to do was ask. We sure can…” As you said this, you moved back up in Mapi’s lap and started to slowly leave kisses along the side of her neck. You didn’t want to distract her too much from her game but you also knew how much she’d be enjoying it. Plus you loved a chance to annoy your friends. This time, it was Alexia who started the retching noises. You felt your girlfriend tilt her head to the side to give you more room to continue down her throat, clearly having fun with this. Pina quickly joined in the sound effects when she saw that you weren’t planning on stopping. Finally Patri wanted to know what was going on and took a quick look over at you. Of course she had no choice but to join her friends in their shouting.

What you hadn’t planned on was that the whole scene had distracted Patri just enough to allow your girlfriend the opening she needed to win their game. “Yes!! I won!” You broke apart from her throat as she suddenly shouted. The two of you high fived and shared a real kiss in celebration of your unplanned teamwork. Everyone else in the room just groaned at the two of you, Patri flopping back onto her bed, cursing in Spanish in protest of her loss. You just settled back into Mapi, sharing a couple more short pecks as you did so.

The next day was your match. When you did your morning walk as a team, nobody seemed to notice the way you and Mapi had linked pinky fingers as you went. You wanted to be close and to spend it with her but you knew that holding hands on your team walk would be too much. The pinkies worked perfectly because nobody else could see it past the long sleeves of your jackets.

The match didn’t go as easily as everyone hoped it would. The score was tied 1-1. Barcelona had been winning most of the game but around minute 75, the other team equalized and both teams had been fighting hard for a winning goal ever since. Exhausted was an understatement. You and Mapi were both starters and were in the entire game. All that was on your mind was scoring. You had to. It was 2 minutes into injury time when Aitana made eye contact with you. She was running the ball up the field and you could tell exactly what her plan was as she did so. She slotted the ball through three defenders and directly to your feet. With one touch you sent the ball sailing past the keeper and into the back of the net. The crowd erupted and before you even had time to process, Mapi had run straight to you, beating everyone else as they all headed your way. Immediately Mapi scooped you into her arms, picking you up as she hugged you in celebration. You knew your other teammates had also surrounded you, but to you, it felt like just you and your girlfriend, alone in the middle of the pitch. She continued to hold you up, kissing your cheeks repeatedly. Your other teammates almost got bored of trying to celebrate you because of how much Mapi was keeping you to herself as the game wrapped up. You all made your way around the pitch to thank the fans, while your girl kept you at arms reach, overwhelmed with pride for you.

The two of you were the last ones to enter the changing room, walking hand in hand pulled into her side. Lucy noticed this immediately and couldn’t help but comment, “Jesus, Mapi are you ever gonna share her with us?” You could already see your girlfriend starting to blush as you made eye contact. “Do we get to celebrate with her at all tonight or is she all yours?” The rest of the room laughed and added their own comments but you and Mapi were lost in each other’s stare, having a silent conversation among yourselves.

You gave her hand a tight squeeze, encouraging her to do what you knew you were both thinking. “Alright you caught us,” the defendender sighed, “we’ve been dating for almost eight months now.” You held up your joined hands as if it were proof to show everyone (not that anyone needed it at this point). The room immediately interrupted into cheers. Of course it did, everyone knew how perfect you were for each other. If you had been best friends almost your entire lives, of course you’d make a great couple too. You and Mapi just smiled at each other, giving her hand another squeeze, trying to communicate that this was the right move. You didn’t even notice everyone around you until you were tackled into a group hug with you two at the center of it. It was exactly where you wanted to be- holding onto your girlfriend tight while all your best friends piled in around you, celebrating your love. It was everything you could ever imagine. Mapi was everything you could ever imagine.

The rest of the love language series:

Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.

Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.

You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #espwnt #mapi leon #espwnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon imagine #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #maria leon #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi

497 notes · View notes

starsstuddedsky · 8 months

Text

Persimmon Problems

jaemin x reader

summary: fantasy crushes are all fun and games until it stops being a fantasy and he’s really talking to you. but what are you supposed to do when he invades every part of your life?

genre: fluff, angst, university au, non idol au, he’s not a frat boy but he’s basically a frat boy, inaccurate depictions of student council, I don’t actually know what this is

warnings: swearing, drinking, implied sex (it’s pg-13), lmk if I missed any

wc: 18.3k (oops)

a/n: ahahaha remember that jaemin dream… yeah. anyways so I’ve looked at this for so long that I don’t even know what this is anymore, all I know is that I can’t keep working on it. also I still don't know what a persimmon tastes like so.. yeah. I really wanted to try one but if this stays in my drafts any longer I will go insane. I hope you all enjoy!!!! as always I'd love to hear what you think :)

You’ve never had persimmon before but you think maybe it’s the best word to describe Na Jaemin. He is a persimmon in your palm, an unknown flavor to be discovered if you dare to bite. It doesn’t help that he chose to wear orange today, the sweater a shade away from pink.

There’s a pinch at your side. “You’re staring again.”

You glare at Renjun, who doesn’t bother to look up from his laptop, working on the graphic for the student council. “Was not.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Just don’t let the pretty boy distract you from paying attention because I needed to finish this yesterday.”

“The only one distracting me is you, and you aren’t pretty.” You pretend his silence is agreement instead of him trying to force you to take notes as Professor Bae closes up the lecture.

It’s not that you can’t focus around Na Jaemin–your perfect notes at the end of class prove just the opposite. Jaemin simply exists in another world. There is your corner, mostly filled with student council responsibilities and never ending university work, and there is Na Jaemin, honorary member of every frat on campus. Not that you’ve been thinking that much about him, but his Instagram shows up in your recommended often enough for you to know that he goes to parties nearly every weekend. The sliver of overlap in the Venn diagram of your world and his only includes Microbiology on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1 to 4, and that’s enough for you. To fantasize about him from here, a fruit you’ll never have the opportunity to try.

Jaemin starts to turn around and you quickly turn to Renjun, resisting the urge to peek at him out of the corner of your eye. You look at the shapes on Renjun’s computer instead.

“That looks like shit.”

“Trust the process,” he says.

“You spent the entire lecture working on this, you are aware we have a lab where you actually have to do things right?”

“You don’t think you can handle it on your own?”

“Stop trying to bait me into doing all the work.” You close your laptop, standing and stretching. You see Jaemin out of the corner of your eye, a blob of black hair shuffling down the aisle toward the door to the classroom. The orange-pink sweater is actually a cardigan, large cream colored buttons keeping it together. That’s when you realize you’re staring again. Shit.

“Are we eating before lab or do you seriously think you’ll finish that thing in the next thirty minutes?” You ask Renjun, who still hasn’t moved.

“You want to be president when you aren’t even pressuring me into posting the election announcements that were supposed to go out yesterday?”

“I want to eat something before we have to stare into microscopes, so what do you want?” You wonder if he’s focused enough to miss you grabbing his wallet out of his bag.

“Whatever you want is fine and if you use my card it will literally decline.” You curse and toss his wallet back into his backpack.

“Should have taken that class with Chenle, his card never declines.”

“That’s because it’s his parents’ black card.” He finally looks up from his laptop at you. “Are you getting the food or not?”

You open your mouth to say something extremely witty and/or smart, but your stomach rumbles. “I’m going to fire you when I’m president.”

“And who else will put up with your bullshit?” he calls as you walk down the aisle. You prepare a mature response (sticking your tongue out at him), walking backwards. Directly into someone—bouncing off their chest, more specifically.

Hands grab your shoulders before you can react, straightening you before you have a chance to fall. “Woah there.”

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” you say as you turn around and find Na Jaemin staring at you. Apologies spill out, even as he smiles at you, a true, knees-to-jelly, threat-to-sunshine smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says.

“Sorry,” you repeat. Your brain struggles to diversify its vocabulary with him looking at you, smiling with his eyes in full focus. His eyes are so dark it’s difficult to distinguish between his pupils and his irises. Staring, again, the third time in an hour. Why can’t you be normal around him?

“I was blocking your way out anyway, so it wasn’t all your fault.” He steps back, letting you out of the aisle. At least, giving you the space to do it, since your feet decide not to work. He tilts his head at you, sending your brain into a spiral of predictions, ranging from he’s going to ask you out (rather fantastical) to he’s going to tell you that you have something stuck between your teeth (horribly realistic).

Instead, he says, “You’re YN, right?”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

His smile widens when you say yes. “Student council vice president, right?”

You don’t trust your voice so you nod.

“I’m Jaemin,” he says, extending his hand for a moment like he wants to shake hands but he pulls away at the last second. “Your picture is on the website.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth going through the motions on its own since your brain’s whiteboard has been wiped completely clean. The only thing left is NA JAEMIN in giant bold letters, bright red marker and all.

“Yes, it is,” he says. Does he know the effect his smile has on people? Legally it could be considered a weapon. He pauses a moment longer, like he wants to say something else but instead he turns away, walking back to his seat, waving at half the class because of course he does.

You don’t have to turn around to feel Renjun staring at you. You don’t feel like hearing his judgy comments, even when they’re only passed on through his eyes. Whoever said eyes are the window to the soul was right—Renjun’s give you a clear view of the most judgmental person you have ever met. You leave the class without looking back.

Very few places nearby campus sell edible food, and even fewer are ever empty enough to be able to grab food and eat before the three hour lab starts. Today is even worse than normal, as if everyone has chosen to be hungry at the same time as you. You end up at a 7/11, grabbing Takis since they’re the only chips Renjun will eat. You grab an iced tea, tapping your finger in line as you wait. Getting the food was enough of a distraction to keep you from thinking about Jaemin but as you wait for the person in front of you try to get a discount using a coupon that expired three months ago, you go over every millisecond of the interaction–and god, you were so awkward. All you really did was apologize to him, you couldn’t even move. You have got to grow up, stop acting like a middle schooler with a crush.

The cashier finally gives up, giving the person a discount and waving them out. You set your food down and smile at her. She does her best to put a customer service smile back on her face, though you can see the exhaustion. You thank her as profusely as you can.

By the time you make it back to the lecture room, there’s barely five minutes left of break.

“Thank god, I’m starving,” Renjun says, grabbing the bag out of your hands. You keep your iced tea on the side farthest from him, glaring at him until he tilts the bag so that you can reach it too. “We are going to make Donghyuck cook tonight, I need real food.”

“Agreed,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spew hot chip dust everywhere.

“And I took pictures of you embarrassing yourself in front of Jaemin, so please try to replace me as your social media correspondent.” He smiles at you over the purple bag.

“You’re horrible, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Music to my ears, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately, Renjun’s graphic does look good, though still not good enough to warrant how much time he spent on it. The messy shapes don’t look half as bad when they’re the right color, and all the information is listed (not in Comic Sans, though it’s only a matter of time before he tries to use it again. You have yet to find out if he actually likes the font or just wants to be annoying). He posts it an hour after the lab, which wasn’t half bad. Your percent error was under 50% for once.

It’s a Friday morning, no classes since your university actually listened to the student requests for a three day weekend, which the student council (you) takes full credit for. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are responsibility free. Instead you sit in cheap plastic chairs rented from the events and planning committee and under a tent that’s in serious danger of blowing away.

You cling to your ball cap, NCIT STUDENT COUNCIL embroidered on the front. The papers in front of you whip around, the weights on top of them holding steady. At least it isn’t raining, though the thick clouds overhead get darker every minute.

Realistically, there’s no reason for you to be here. All the information about running for student council is posted online and with over 30,000 students, only a small portion of the student body actually care—none of whom are walking around campus at 11 in the morning on a Friday. You pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders. Just another fifteen minutes and then Jisung will relieve you. Mark should be the one freezing his ass off since he’s the one that insists on upholding tradition, but as president he takes advantage of avoiding work whenever he can.

Only two and a half months before that privilege is yours. Assuming you are elected, of course, but there’s no real danger in losing that. You’ve been a part of the council since freshman year, appointed as vice president as a sophomore. Few people have more qualifications, and fewer are actually interested in the position. Usually the competition comes from within the cabinet, but none of the rest of the guys have said anything about the running, though that might be because you haven’t shut up about the position since freshman year. Either way, the position is all but yours, and there is absolutely no reason you need to sit here when you could be studying for midterms.

A strong gust of wind blows from in front of you instead of behind and this time you are too slow. Your cap flies off your head, tumbling across the empty quad. You shuffle after it, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly over your shoulders, which helps protect you from the cold winds. Unfortunately, said cold winds don’t stop blowing, and your hat blows faster than you can shuffle. It reaches to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the squad by the time it finally stops.

Moving as fast as you can wrapped up one dry day away from mummification, you try to snatch the cap before it gets blown away again. You bend down to reach for it but a pair of sneakers appear in front of you and a mitten-clad hand grabs it before you can. You stand up and find Jaemin, wearing bright red earmuffs that have a green headband to make it look like a pair of cherries. He holds your hat out, smiling when he sees you (when he recognizes you?).

“What’s wrong? Hat got your tongue?” He waits, with an expectant smile. The boy next to him, wearing more layers than you, shakes his head. “Sorry,” Jaemin says, “bad joke, I know, but I couldn’t help it.”

Even the most lovesick part of you can’t defend him on that one. You take your hat from his outstretched hand, sticking it back on your head when you realize what your hair must look like after crossing the quad with all the wind.

“It’s Jaemin, from microbio,” he says, as if there’s actually a chance you don’t know him.

“Thanks, Jaemin from microbio.”

He flashes a smile that warms you better than any sun. “My pleasure, Vice President.”

“You can just call me YN,” you mumble.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You swear he winks, though maybe it’s the wind blowing in his eyes.

The boy next to him nudges Jaemin with his shoulder, keeping his hands tucked safely in the pockets of his jacket. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “This is Jeno, he’s–God, I guess he’s my best friend.” He glances at Jeno, unimpressed. “The position is temporary.”

“Thanks!” Jeno says brightly.

“Jeno, this is the vice president of the student council,” he says.

“YN,” you say, “I’d shake your hand but…” You show your hands, stuck keeping the blanket wrapped around you.

“It’s alright, I lost my gloves, so my hands are stuck here.” Jeno lifts his jacket with his hands in the pockets, just to prove his point.

“Hey, I didn’t get a handshake,” Jaemin says.

“Did you need a handshake?”

He tilts his head, showing off his jawline, not that you’re paying attention to that at all. It simply calls attention to itself, and who are you to ignore a jawline that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo (not the ninja turtle). He must be cold with so much skin exposed.

“I’ll settle for some advice,” Jaemin says. Right, maybe you shouldn’t be comparing his face to famous works of art mid-conversation (save it for the Instagram stalking like everyone else).

“Advice?”

“I was actually looking for you anyway.” Jaemin glances at Jeno before meeting your eyes again. “The student council election is open to anyone, right?”

“The presidency is open to seniors that are enrolled here, but yeah,” you say. “Why?”

He shrugs. “I’m going to apply.”

You blink at him. “For president? Of student council?”

“Yeah,” he says. Jeno shuffles beside him, stuffing his hands impossibly deeper into his pockets.

President… but that’s your position. If it wasn’t for the senior-only rule, you’d already be president. You rose through the ranks, suffered through a vice presidency with Mark to get here–it’s your position.

“Do I apply there?” He asks, pointing at the table you’re supposed to be sitting at.

“The application is online,” you find yourself saying, “you have to submit a resume and go through a qualifying process, and submit your proposals for campaign policies and a whole bunch of other stuff, it’s all on the application information.” You’re about halfway through your own application, though it’s mostly copying and pasting from the document you’ve been working on since you joined student council.

“You can scan the QR code on this blanket, it’ll take you to the application.” You hold it straight, cursing Renjun in your head for being so creative with marketing. You look like an idiot, waiting for him to scan your shoulder.

“Cool,” Jaemin says, pulling out his phone, but instead of scanning the code, he hands it to you, a new contact profile with your name already in it. You glance between the phone and the smiling boy. “Can I ask you if I have any questions?”

Jaemin is asking you for his phone number. To help with his campaign, against you. Your brain works in overdrive, trying to determine how you are supposed to feel. Your heart doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the internal turmoil. You put your number into his phone and hand it back to him.

“Sure,” you say, even as your brain screams at you not to. “Whatever I can do to help.”

He grins and your brain fully malfunctions, gears popping, cartoon sparks flying. “Thank you, YN.”

“No problem,” you mumble, knowing that’s not true at all even without a functioning brain cell. You should have let him call you vice president when you had the chance–this is so much worse.

“I should go back,” you say, taking a step backward, a gamble considering your history of walking backwards around him. Trying not to linger in Jaemin’s presence is like a planet resisting the pull of gravity to the sun–no matter how hard you try, you can’t beat physics.

But maybe he isn’t the sun because when you take another step, Jaemin takes a step to follow you. Are there stars that revolve around planets? But Jaemin doesn’t revolve around you, he doesn’t even exist in your solar system. Maybe a black hole is a better metaphor, sucking you in from a galaxy over. You should stop making metaphors based on middle school astronomy.

You peer at Jaemin as he continues across the quad, walking leisurely beside you as you shuffle. Jeno trails behind slightly, risking the cold to pull out a phone.

“Are you following me?”

Jaemin looks at you over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. “You think you’re that special already?” Before you can answer, he laughs. “But, yeah, I am. I can’t leave you all by yourself out here, anything could happen.”

“As opposed to by myself at the table?”

He shrugs. “There’s two chairs. I could sit with you.”

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, looking him up and down. He’s got a puffy jacket (bright red, probably to match with the earmuffs) and jeans. “You’d freeze in five minutes.”

“You could–”

“Are we going to Doyoung’s or not?” Jeno calls from behind you.

“Right,” Jaemin says, “I definitely did not forget about that.” He glances at you. “Rain check?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to keep me company freezing my ass off,” you say, “but seriously, I wouldn’t let you stay anyway.” You reach the table, turning to face him.

Jaemin pouts. “Why not?”

“For starters, I don’t want to be responsible for the hypothermia you’re bound to catch,” you say, “and it’s a student council thing. You’re not a part of the student council.”

“Not yet.”

Right. The standard, crush-threatening-the-dream-you’ve-spent-three-years-working-toward-situation. “Also, no offense, but I barely know you.”

“Offense taken,” Jaemin says, holding a hand over his chest. “We’ve taken half a class together!”

“We’ve spoken twice if you count today!” You say. Does he really not get it? “At the very least it would be awkward.”

“I take full offense to the idea that I could ever be awkward,” Jaemin says. He folds his arms over his chest, eyeing you. “I’ll prove it to you.” Your gut twists, sending off the warning bells, but there’s no way Jaemin is actually flirting with you. He probably hates the idea that someone doesn’t immediately trust him with their heart and soul. He doesn’t need to know that you already do. That’s why there’s simply no way he’s flirting with you–it simply doesn’t make sense.

“Dude, we seriously need to go,” Jeno says. “Doyoung is spam texting.”

Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at you. “I’ll see you in class.”

“Bye Jaemin,” you say. You watch him walk away with Jeno, throwing his arm over his friend’s shoulders. He doesn’t look back at you.

What just happened?

Jisung approaches so quietly you jump when you turn around and he stands in front of you. “Was that Na Jaemin?”

“Yes–wait, how do you know him?”

Jisung avoids your eyes, turning to watch the pair of boys trudge away. “Renjun talks.”

You’re going to kill him. But first you need to defrost, so you hand the blanket over to Jisung and jump a few times to warm yourself up, trying in vain to make up for the loss.

“What was he doing here?” Jisung asks, wrapping himself so tightly his feet are bound together. One strong push would send him tumbling over, probably unable to get up. If only it was Renjun.

“He wants to be president.”

“Of student council?”

“Apparently.”

“Huh.” Jisung sits back. “Aren’t you supposed to be president?”

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Jisung stares at you.

“Have fun!” You say. The air without Jaemin is so much colder. Maybe your toes have frostbite. “It’s cold!”

Jisung grunts, huddling down and you don’t spare a second look at him. There’s a solid chance he’s texting Renjun already, since your best friend has decided to be a dirty gossip. You walk along the sidewalk and try to tell your heart that no matter how pretty his smile is, Na Jaemin is bad for you. Your heart reminds you that he saved your hat.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out, fully expecting to see a message from Renjun but instead a string of numbers show up. you better save my number :). You stare at your phone until it fades to black, which is why you know the exact moment it starts to snow. Though it’s March and the groundhog didn’t see its shadow, a snowflake falls on your phone, melting quickly. You walk home in the snow, thoughts of Jaemin piling up a snowbank that no plow can clear.

For breakfast on Tuesday morning, you have an untoasted bagel with a side of impending doom. You woke up with the feeling, a knot in your gut that usually only appears before exams or after you drink too much coffee, but today has chosen to warn you of unknown horrors yet to come. It has to be the dream you had, only you forgot it the moment you woke up.

[Bitch #1] You’re just trying to avoid jaemin.

You don’t know why you expected Renjun to support you. Unsurprisingly, he found out about Jaemin’s intent to run for president before you made it back to your apartment, and dedicated an hour to lecturing you over FaceTime, then spent the entire pregame on Saturday side eyeing you.

Jaemin’s message sits at the bottom of your recent texts. He hasn’t sent anything since Friday, though neither have you. You close your phone and try not to think about him, an impossible task. In the end you can’t think of a valid excuse, and go to your morning lecture. It’s one of your favorite classes (world history of medicinal developments 1200-1600) but today your mind drifts, still trying to figure out why today feels so off. Are you forgetting an assignment? You’ve checked the syllabus for all of your classes and the reminders your professors sent out but nothing has slipped past your the list on your planner. You check your outfit after class to see if you put something on backwards but you look fine. By the time you head toward microbio, you’ve resigned yourself to a day of inexplicable anxiety.

You should have trusted your gut.

You take one step into the room and the knot in your gut twists itself into a mess that spells out leave now while you still have the chance.

In your normal spot at the back of the classroom, sitting beside Renjun, sits Jaemin, grinning and waving at you like he’s been sitting there the entire semester.

You walk carefully down the aisle of desks, stopping in front of him. “You’re in my seat.”

Jaemin doesn’t seem to notice Renjun’s snort, opting to smile at you. “Hello YN, it’s nice to see you.”

“Hi Jaemin,” you say, “you’re in my seat.”

He rolls his eyes, sliding his backpack to the side and slipping into the next seat over. “I was just getting to know Renjun.”

You glare at your best friend, sitting beside him. “I’m sure he’s been lovely.” Renjun smiles innocently, turning back to photoshopping a graphic of the student council.

Jaemin pulls out his laptop, sitting leaning back into the chair. Is he planning on sitting here for the whole class?

“What are you doing?” You ask softly. Renjun continues to click around, not even pretending not to eavesdrop.

“I told you, I could never be awkward,” Jaemin says.

“Speak for yourself,” you mutter, shrinking in your seat. Does he really not notice the class staring at you? Okay, maybe staring is an exaggeration, and it’s not the whole class, but the people he normally sits with keep glancing back at you and whispering to each other.

Professor Bae walks in and they turn back to the front, saving you from (more) embarrassment. From the corner of your eye, you watch the boys at your sides—Renjun doesn’t bother to open the notes doc he shares with you, opting for continuing the edit, which you can’t really complain about because it’s the series of posts you asked him to make. Jaemin pulls up a cartoon series, Teen Titans, volume off with the subtitles on.

“Is this what you do every class?” You whisper.

Jaemin looks away from his fake typing for a moment. “She grades for attendance, not participation.”

“Are you even passing this class?”

Jaemin grins. “Sweetheart, I skew the curve.” Just to prove his point, he pauses the bickering superheroes and pulls up the grade review for the class. True to his word, his scores are well above average, rivaling your own. With the exception of Renjun, you haven’t met anyone who’s gotten similar grades.

Jaemin smiles, switching back to the show. He exudes confidence, and why wouldn’t he? Not only hot and popular, he’s smart too, smarter than you—it takes you hours of studying, exam cram sessions, paying attention in class—he doesn’t even hide that he isn’t paying attention, and from his reputation alone, you know he doesn’t spend as much time studying as you. Does he know what he’s getting into with student council? Even the laziest of presidents put in several hours of work a week.

Jaemin laughs at the show. Renjun finally glances at you, raising his eyebrows at Jaemin in a silent question. You shrug, mouthing, I don’t know either. He purses his lips and turns back to photoshop. You’re sure the second Jaemin steps away he’s going to be on your ass again.

Belatedly, you realize you’ve spent far too much of the class thinking about Jaemin. Professor Bae has already moved on from weekly announcements to new topics, meaning you have a date with YouTube review videos tonight. Thank god Professor Bae actually cares about her students and has recorded lectures. You just have to hope you didn’t miss one of the exam hints she only drops during class.

Jaemin and Renjun stay quiet for the rest of the class period, though it does little to help you actually focus. Between Jaemin existing next to you and the inevitability of Renjun’s judgment, it’s hard to stay focused on virus identification. You take half the notes you usually do.

But can you really blame it on them? It’s you that loses focus, you that is distracted by Jaemin beside you when he doesn’t actively try to pull your attention. He may have disrupted the balance of the universe by sitting beside you, but that doesn’t mean you have to fall off the scale.

Professor Bae announces the end of lecture a couple minutes early. You swear you see her raise her eyebrows at you and glance at Jaemin before disappearing into her office for the half hour break before lab. Is it too self-absorbed to wonder if she’s taking things the wrong way? But what is the wrong way? None of it makes any sense except that maybe Jaemin is too stubborn for his own good. Funny how a week ago he didn’t know your name and now you can say he’s ‘too’ something.

“So what do you normally do during break?” Jaemin asks. “Other than bounce off the chest of your roguishly handsome classmates.”

You roll your eyes to keep him from noticing how flustered his comment actually makes you. “Go over the prelab in case someone forgets to do it–”

“I always do it!” Renjun says.

“–but usually get snacks and do homework. Lately Renjun has been doing a lot of student council work during class, but that’s because he doesn’t know how to manage his time.”

“Says the one who asked me to design a scheduler for them.”

“Just because you’re good at Canva doesn’t mean you’re on top of your work.”

Renjun shakes his head. You can tease him all you want, at the end of the day, you know that it doesn’t really matter. The truth is, he just doesn’t need to study as much as you. Sort of like Jaemin, and absolutely nothing like you.

“What do you normally do during break?” You ask.

Jaemin purses his lips. “Well, my lab partner rarely does the prelab, so usually I let him look at mine.” From the row where Jaemin normally sits, a guy in a striped yellow polo glares back at you.

You glance between him and Jaemin, who turns away from his partner to look at you. “Should you go over there?”

“Probably.” He doesn’t make a move to get up, instead tilting his head and smiling at you a little. “You’re very interesting, YN.”

You cough, breaking eye contact to fiddle with the A key on your laptop which is in serious danger of falling off. “Well, your lab partner is probably going to try and inject you with a virus during lab if you don’t go over there.”

Jaemin laughs. “You’re probably right. I’ll talk to you later.” He stands up and glances at Renjun, who finally looks away from his laptop. Jaemin nods at him and flashes a smile at you, showing perfect rows of white teeth, and finally turns around, backpack half open in his hand.

You tear your eyes away from him, turning back to Renjun, who sits with his elbow on the armrest, chin in hand. He softens his eyes and looks up at you. “You’re very interesting, YN.”

“Shut up,” you say, pushing his elbow out from under him, though he doesn’t fall like you wish he would.

He shakes his head. “I do not like that guy.”

“Really?” You frown. “Why?”

“The fact that you’re even asking me that.” He sighs. “He’s just not my favorite type of guy.” He glares at you before you can tease him. “You seem to exclusively be attracted to shitty men, and then I become associated with them through proximity and it’s overall not a fun time for me.”

“Okay first of all, you barely know Jaemin,” you say, “and second of all, nothing’s ever going to happen with him.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows.

“Seriously,” you insist, “he’s literally Jaemin, and I’m… not his type. You can hate him all you want but don’t do it on my behalf.”

Renjun stares at you a little longer. He doesn’t believe you, and he’s probably right not to. But he turns back to his computer and doesn’t argue back.

“I didn’t do the pre lab, though,” Renjun says, “that was a lie.”

“I’m going to kill you and make it look like an accident.”

Jaemin doesn’t show up to class on Thursday. You stare at your phone, the single message in your conversation with him. Curiosity and something bitter boil together, making it impossible to think logically. He acts so friendly around you it would be easy to mistake him for a friend, but it’s not like you don’t have friends. You wouldn’t have a second thought about sending a text like this to Renjun or Donghyuck–but you’ve never felt butterflies when either of them looked at you.

So when your phone dies, you slip it into the pocket of your sweatshirt instead of trying to fight Mark for a charger (ever since “someone” stole one, he’s been overprotective of the cords). It’s movie night anyways, it’s not like you need your phone.

“Wait,” you say, “since when are we watching Endgame?”

“We literally just voted,” Donghyuck says, “You could have tied it for Lilo and Stitch but you weren’t paying attention.” He glares at you.

Mark throws an arm over your shoulders. “It’s all good, YN can just make the popcorn.”

“It’s hitting buttons on a microwave.”

“Oh, would you look at that, the movie’s starting!” Mark says, pushing you off the couch and towards the kitchen of his apartment. You glare at him, but the guys have made you watch Marvel movies enough times that you are glad for the excuse to escape any part of it. It’s bad enough you can hear it from the kitchen.

The shelves in Mark’s apartment are tall enough that he keeps a stool in the kitchen so that he can reach the highest of them. Of course that’s where he keeps his popcorn, so you jump as high as you can, snatching the box. Except you pull a little too hard and the box flies clean out of your hand, your feet slipping out from under you. You tumble to the ground, narrowly avoiding banging your head on the faux marble countertop.

A moment later, Donghyuck appears standing over you, box of popcorn in one hand. “You could have just used the stool.”

“That’s so much work.”

“And yet it keeps you off the floor.” He holds out his free hand and helps you stand. Your tailbone hurts a little but otherwise it seems you dodged major damage.

“You okay?” Chenle shouts.

“Fine,” you shout back. You wonder what the odds are that they’d let you bleed out to finish the movie—probably higher than what you want to calculate. At least Donghyuck is as anti-Endgame as you.

He sets the box on the counter, pulling the plastic off a bag and putting it in the microwave for five minutes. You would’ve just used the popcorn button but Donghyuck insists it tastes better this way. He turns around, leaning against the counter and studying you.

“So,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows. “‘So’ what?”

“So, Jaemin.” Donghyuck stares at you, eyes unreadable. He’s been like this ever since you met him—pulling people apart with his eyes and extracting the most important bits, all with a smile on his face. He knew Shotaro was going to drop out before Shotaro did.

“He’s…” A friend? A crush? The guy you wish would stay out of your life so you could keep daydreaming about him?

“He’s sort of famous,” Donghyuck says. “Or infamous, depending on who you ask.”

“And if I ask you?”

Donghyuck smiles like this is going according to his script. “He’s lots of fun to party with. I don’t know anyone that doesn’t like him.”

“But?” You jump when the first piece of popcorn pops.

Donghyuck pins you down with his eyes. “But he isn’t the boyfriend type. I mean, I’m not best friends with the guy, but it’s pretty obvious, and I talked to—”

“Stop.” You hold a hand up. “I know exactly what kind of guy he is, I’m not an idiot.”

“I’m not saying you’re an idiot, I just—”

“Donghyuck, I get it.” You stare back at him. “I really do, but I promise I know what I’m doing.” Okay, maybe that last part is a lie, but you know what you aren’t doing. You don’t expect a single thing from Na Jaemin.

“I heard he’s running for president.”

“Come on,” you say, “you think he can beat me?” Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. He won’t call you out on it, but he doesn’t have to. Your lie doesn’t even convince yourself. Jaemin has it all—grades, good looks, and, most importantly, popularity. Yes, he can beat you. Easily.

“Why are you helping him?”

“Jisung can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?”

“Renjun was actually the one that told me, but that’s not the point,” Donghyuck says.

“He hasn’t even asked for help,” you say, “and it’s not like I’m going to give up. I just…”

“You like him,” Donghyuck says. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to try to deny it but you won’t fight a battle that’s already lost. But you won’t admit it either.

“I know what I’m doing.”

Donghyuck chews on his lip for a moment. “Just be careful,” he says, “I do care about you. A little. Just a tiny bit. And from what I know, Jaemin is a good guy, but I don’t want you to get hurt because he isn’t what you want him to be.”

“Gross, stop acting like we’re friends,” you say.

“Never mind, I take it all back,” he says, “and I won’t be your vice president.”

“Too late.” You shrug. “You already signed a contract.”

“Fine, I’ll veto everything you propose.”

“You don’t have the power to do that.”

He tossed his hands up. “What is the point of being vice president?”

You beam at him. “Doing the shit I don’t want to do!”

Donghyuck opens his mouth to argue back but he pauses, sniffing at the air, and that’s when you realize the popcorn has long since stopped popping. Behind Donghyuck, smoke rises.

He curses, pressing the button to open the door only to take a wave of smoke straight in the face. At least the bag isn’t on fire. You laugh as he waved his hand in front of his face, coughing.

“Dude, what is that smell?” Mark shouts from the living room.

You spend half the movie bickering with Donghyuck while trying to get the sharp smoky scent out of Mark’s kitchen. By the time the Avengers have all the infinity stones again and are in the final battle, you are curled up on the floor with a blanket, the popcorn bowl confiscated by Chenle when he realized how much you and Donghyuck ate while making it (it sort of tastes like smoke anyways). Two Marvel movies later, Mark shakes you awake and sends you and the rest of the guys out.

You’re so tired by the time you get home, you plug your phone in and fall asleep. That’s why you don’t see the message until your alarm goes off the next morning.

[Na Jaemin] you busy?

For the past three weeks, you’ve tried meditation. Renjun swears by it, but you’ve seen him lose it over half a quesadilla, so it doesn’t exactly instill confidence in you. Still, you set aside ten minutes every morning to listen to the podcast he sent you. It’s meant to be calming, to connect you with yourself, and usually you do feel better, at least for a few minutes.

You peek at your phone, checking how much time in the lesson is left (3 and a half minutes). No new notifications.

Jaemin’s message gave you a heart attack when you woke up. He sent it at 8:12pm, probably right after your phone died. So seeing his message first thing in the morning woke you up pretty fast. You sent an apology that you definitely didn’t rewrite fifteen times, and now you wait.

But no, you’re meditating right now. Clearing your mind, not thinking about a single thing except the air that floods your lungs, letting your heart beat twice before releasing the air again. You peek your right eye open. No new notifications.

The narration ends and you sigh, laying back on your bed and checking your schedule for the day even though you’ve memorized it. In half an hour you need to be in the library to meet with your study group, then a council meeting, some space for lunch (which will undoubtedly end up crashed by Chenle or Donghyuck), then more homework in the afternoon. Tonight you’re supposed to go to a party thrown by one of Mark’s friends from grad school—depending on whether Renjun can find out if he’s a poli-sci major or not.

You jump when your calendar disappears and the incoming call screen pops up. You stare at Jaemin’s name for a couple seconds before your brain begins to function again, and you slide the button at the bottom of your phone to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“YN,” Jaemin says. His voice is a little deeper than normal, raspy like he just woke up. “I was starting to think you’d blocked me.”

“Sorry, my phone died last night and Mark doesn’t let anyone use his chargers.”

Jaemin laughs, the phone distorting the quality, sounding choppy and un-Jaemin. “Damn, does the student body know he treats his council like this?”

You laugh a little but can’t think of anything else to say. The silence stretches longer as Jaemin doesn’t speak either. The ceiling of your apartment has a constellation of holes, evidence of the former tenant’s antics. You have yet to figure out exactly what it could be—stabbing the ceiling with a broomstick? What does Jaemin’s ceiling look like? He’s so hard to pin down, like the more you get to know him the less he makes sense. He’s the type to have a messy room with clothes tossed everywhere and a bed that’s never made, yet he’s also the type to keep it neat, put up diagrams to match the college aesthetic of studying even if Jaemin himself is allergic to it.

“So,” Jaemin says, apparently realizing you aren’t going to say anything else. “I actually texted last night because I wanted to see you.”

You shove down the butterflies that spring up. “For what?”

“First of all, it’s cruel that you don’t think I’d want to see you just to see you. But also I was gonna ask to go over microbio together because I heard a rumor that Professor Bae talked about the final.”

“Don’t you have a lab partner?”

“Yeah, he’s who told me she talked about it. Unfortunately he’s worse at taking notes than me.” He pauses. “Besides, you’re much cuter.”

“Oh.” The butterflies breach containment, digging like madmen trying to escape your stomach.

“So are you free?”

Despite just checking your schedule, your mind goes blank. You frown, trying to remember what you’d just seen, and thank every deity that might exist that Jaemin can’t see your face right now.

“I’m free after the council meeting. How is 12:30?”

“Damn, council meetings on Fridays,” Jaemin says, “that works though. Meet you in the library?”

“We can use the council room on the third floor,” you say, “no one else will be there.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says, “see you soon, YN.”

“Bye, Jaemin.”

The butterflies have turned into zombies, rotting in your stomach and spoiling the leftover popcorn from last night. It’s just sharing notes. It’s just Jaemin. He’s just a boy from another world. The butterflies groan and demand chocolate.

Council meetings feel a little bit like the Magic School Bus series. The tagline plays in your head: A normal council meeting? With this group? No way!

Some of the blame can be directed towards having such an eclectic group of majors, Mark as the only true political science major. The rest of the group has been adamant about keeping the council safe from political science majors (how Mark doesn’t see the horrors of his classmates you truly don’t know). Another point towards Jaemin, being biochem and pre-med.

Though being a non-poli-sci major doesn’t mean he can handle the presidency. Mark can barely do that. Not that he’s a bad president. Though it sometimes feels like you do all the heavy lifting for him to take credit for, he does work hard. No, Mark’s problem isn’t his leadership—it’s that he doesn’t know when to give up.

The council meeting is long done but he continues to bicker with Donghyuck, who holds the entire student council hostage.

“It’s a proven fact,” Mark says. “How are you arguing with science?”

“Can science tell me what I feel?” Donghyuck folds his arms over his chest. His laptop has faded to black, the meeting notes long forgotten. “This isn’t about facts, it’s about my experience!”

You check your phone. The meeting has already gone over fifteen minutes. Any longer and Jaemin could walk in on a very not-empty room with Mark committing a crime against Donghyuck for saying that Froot Loops have individual flavors. Maybe it’s time to intervene.

“You’re just gaslighting yourself,” Mark says, “it’s not physically possible!”

“Well, you’re not physically possible!”

“That makes negative sense. I’m getting dumber listening to your attempts to argue.”

“Okay,” you say, standing up so quickly your chair falls back. “This isn’t council business anymore. All in favor of concluding the meeting?” According to the official rules, Mark is the only one that can conclude the meeting, but Jisung’s hand flies up, followed quickly by Renjun and Chenle.

“Cool, majority rule,” you say, ignoring the outrage on Mark’s face. Donghyuck pretends to be mad too, but he was only arguing with Mark to piss him off. He’ll probably follow the older boy around just to ruin his day. The two always have some fight going on—you’re convinced the reason Donghyuck agreed to be your vice president (if you win) is just because Mark would hate it.

Jisung leaves first, eager to escape from Donghyuck and Mark. Donghyuck pauses long enough to write a few more summarizing notes on the meeting but catches up to Mark before he can vanish, continuing to pester him about Froot Loops.

“Going home,” Renjun says, “we’re going out tonight, by the way. Turns out Taeyong is an econ major, and also a former frat president.”

“Huh,” Chenle says, “I can’t believe neither Donghyuck or me know him.”

Renjun shrugs. “I need to finish a couple projects since nothing will get done tomorrow.” He grins. “See you guys later.”

“Bye Renjun,” you say, tapping your phone screen to check the notifications.

[Na Jaemin] in the library [Na Jaemin] lost in the library [Na Jaemin] nvm found the stairs

[yn] need me to come find you?

[Na Jaemin] nah i don’t get lost (yes please)

“You’re texting with Jaemin?” Chenle breathes over your shoulder, making you drop your phone. Unfortunately it’s still open, your messages easy to read and Chenle doesn't hesitate to snatch it. At least the rest of the guys left, only Chenle is nosy enough to wonder who you’re texting.

“This is painful,” he announces. He hands the phone back to you. “You could at least add an emoji. Or, like, send more than one sad message.”

“Why?”

Chenle shakes his head. “You are texting the Jaemin, right? Na Jaemin?”

“Is there any other?”

“You’ve got a chance here,” Chenle continues, ignoring your question. “Not many people—well, I’ve actually heard he’s quite experienced but that’s beside the point, because you have a chance and that’s rare.”

“Genuinely, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You glance at the door, just in case Jaemin appears. Somehow you don’t think you want him overhearing this conversation.

“Okay, look,” Chenle says, “you’re you. Student council, 4.0 GPA, plans to be the next director of the WHO or whatever—”

“That’s not at all what I want.”

“—never a second you aren’t working, and then there’s Jaemin, and sure he’s a STEM major too, but the he’s type that strolls through life, who has things fall into his lap because he’s hot and lucky but you can’t really be mad about it because he’s Jaemin.” He pauses, like that explains everything. But you already know that Jaemin exists in a realm outside your own. Chenle waits a moment longer then shakes his head. “You know what, you’ll figure it out eventually.” He glances at you with a frown. “Maybe.”

“Good bye, Chenle,” you say pointedly.

He moves extra slow, closing his laptop only after spamming the save button. He once forgot to save a spreadsheet after a two hour budgeting session and you think he’s still traumatized. Still, spending a full thirty seconds hitting CTRL + S is excessive even for him—he’s stalling, trying to be as nosy as ever.

“I’m meeting him at the elevator so you can stop stalling,” you say. You hover over the send button, Chenle’s “advice” infecting your brain. You hit send before you can overthink it any more.

[yn] on the way now 👍

Chenle sighs, returning to peeking over your shoulder. “You’re hopeless.”

You grin and give him a thumbs up. “Thanks buddy. If you hurry you can run into him in the elevators.”

Chenle perks up, grabbing his still-open bag and sprinting out the door. You feel a little bad for lying to him, but he was the one that didn’t read Jaemin’s messages closely enough—evident from missing the fact that he’s on his way up the stairs and how Chenle thinks he might actually be flirting with you. You shake your head at the thought.

Just when you reach the doorway to the stairs and wonder if you should meet him in the stairwell, the door flies open. Despite climbing three flights of stairs, Jaemin breathes normally. A different backpack than usual is sling over his back, bright orange, like… well, an orange. (Persimmon, your brain unhelpfully supplies).

“Hi,” he says. “Sorry I’m late.” You wonder how anyone is immune to his smiles. A smile like that robs you of everything irreplaceable and leaves you missing it as soon as it’s gone.

“You’re not late,” you say, showing him the time on your phone as you walk to the council room. “Exactly on time.”

“Oh.” He glances at you, and when you turn your phone back to face you, you understand the awkwardness.

[Chenle] good luck 🤪🤪🤪

[Chenle] have fun with the hottie 🔥🔥🔥

[Chenle] but not too much fun 😼😼

You clear your throat, praying he didn’t get a chance to read all of the messages. “Chenle’s just making fun of my emoji use. Or lack of emoji use.”

Jaemin nods. “I hate to take the side of someone I’ve never met over you, but he might be right.”

“I use a perfectly respectable amount of emojis,” you say. “Besides, I’ve never seen you use any.”

“You’re just going to have to text me more to find out.”

You’ve never been so happy to see the doors to the council room. It’s nothing more than a glorified study room, with a rectangular table that stretches in the middle of the room, eight wooden seats set around it. A giant whiteboard stretches the majority of the back wall. The only truly special part of the room is the projector that hangs from the ceiling, with a screen that needs a button to come down. The walls that line the hallway are glass, along with the doors, so that anyone can see the council discussions, though tucked away in the back corner of the third floor, only the occasional passerby is subject to the bickering.

Jaemin raises his eyebrows and whistles. “This is nice.”

“Don’t lie,” you say. “The only nice thing about it is that we have full access to it whenever we want.” You point to the sign that reads Student Council Members Only. Truthfully, the six of you use it more as a private study room than for actual council work.

“It is nice,” Jaemin says, holding the door open for you. He pauses in front of the whiteboard. Chenle had been sitting closest to it, apparently spending the final thirty minutes of the meeting drawing out different game plans for the basketball club he somehow has time for.

“Chenle,” you explain, “he thinks he’s a part of the Golden State Warriors.”

“How much council work actually gets done in these meetings,” he says teasingly.

“You catch on fast,” you say. “It took me the full first year to realize how incompetent we are.”

“How come?”

“The president just wanted resume padding. He was incredible at sucking up to faculty and making the right people think he was a great leader, but he would send us fresh-terns to pick up condoms and sent Donghyuck with a fake to get drinks once.”

“Fresh-tern?”

“The freshman interns,” you explain, “since the president is the only elected position and the rest of the council is appointed, the only way to get known is through the ‘internship,’ which technically is open to anyone but only freshman are dumb enough to dedicate that much time to a job that does absolutely nothing—like, it doesn’t pay or even guarantee you a spot on the council in the future. It’s all based on whether the president likes you or not.

“Anyway, our president last year was marginally better, and he tried to abolish the seniors-only president rule but couldn’t get it to pass in time, so we ended up with Mark. Not that Mark is a bad president, though council meetings could be half as long if he wouldn’t go on tangents every two minutes.” You stop, realizing how much you’re talking. You’ve come dangerously close to telling him the truth about the presidency. Jaemin says nothing, probably bored. “Anyways, we’ve got a few new initiatives this year but mostly we try to maintain the annual events and keep Mark’s head on his shoulders until he graduates.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jaemin says.

“Sometimes.” You pause. “How’s your application going, by the way?”

He glances at you, smile fading a little. He turns back to the whiteboard, this time studying the fading drawing Renjun made a month ago of a goat fighting Donghyuck. “Still figuring things out. Mostly working on my campaign goals.”

You nod. A part of you wants to press further, learn more about his plans—but because you want to beat him or because it’s Jaemin? Why is it so difficult to think clearly around him?

You sit at the table and open your laptop, pulling out your notes. He sits beside you, scraping the chair against the tile floors until his knee is an inch away from yours. He must not notice the way your breath catches in your throat when he leans closer. A moment later and your brain is invaded by his scent, a clean smell like laundry detergent or body wash.

“It’s organized by subject,” you explain. “Usually I take notes in class and then Renjun reviews and organizes it with keywords and highlighting and this coding system that I don’t really get but he swears by. Either way it works for us.” You show him the keyword that Renjun uses to signify exam hints, combining it with the past class’s date to cross reference the relevant information.

Jaemin lets out a low whistle. “This is crazy.”

“Yeah,” you say, “Renjun puts a lot of time into it. But when we study for exams, it’s worth it.”

“You know Renjun from student council?” He asks, beginning to type a few notes.

“I guess that’s where I met him first,” you say. “But he’s pretty much my best friend. The whole student council is pretty close, way closer than the group Mark came into. He tells us horror stories about how they made the fresh-terms compete just to turn them against each other, though that’s back when it was filled with poli-sci majors.”

“None of you are poli-sci?”

“I’m public health,” you say, “and Mark is poli-sci, but the rest of the guys avoided it. We swore that the next council would be free of the plague of poli-sci majors.”

“You really hate them?”

“They deserve it,” you say. “But also it’s because I made the mistake of dating one last year.” You shudder at the memory.

“Really?” Jaemin looks away from his laptop, staring at you instead.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine. “It was a moment of weakness and he confessed to me with cookies.”

“Not making fun,” Jaemin says. “Were the cookies at least homemade?”

“Well, yes.” You shake your head, trying to stop the next bit from coming out. But Jaemin raises his eyebrows and you can’t help it. “He had his ex make them, actually.”

“No!”

“Yeah, and then dumped me for them after, like, two weeks, and the guys are all convinced that he cheated on me with them,” you say. “So, no, I don’t really like poli-sci majors.”

“A good observation,” Jaemin says. His approval makes your cells glow—scientists could discover a new form of bioluminescence from within you.

Jaemin continues to stare at you, eyes full of warmth. It’s so easy to get lost in them, glancing between the pure dark chocolate and fond smile on his lips. The change in light when your laptop screen fades snaps you out of it.

You eye him. “Do you even need these?”

“Nope,” Jaemin says. He grins at you. “Just an excuse to see you.” He turns back to the laptop and continues to copy your notes into his document. You turn around, giving him no chance to see the smile that creeps onto your face. You seriously need to get a grip. Jaemin needs to get a grip and realize that he can’t flirt with you like this, not without completely upsetting the balance of the universe. But even as the world slides sideways, you smile.

“Nothing special.” That’s what Renjun said when you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. But March 23rd falls on a Friday this year, and everything snowballed from there.

That’s how you find yourself wearing an outfit even the most lenient parents would dub inappropriate, wearing more body glitter than exists in the state of Utah, taking your fifth shot.

“Sixteen more to go,” Renjun says, patting your back. Why you promised to match him shot for shot, you aren’t quite sure. You had reasoning, at some point. Definitely before the shots.

At least you aren’t alone—Donghyuck curls his lip after his shot, lime slice snatched out of his hand by Mark before he can take it as a chaser. Mark laughs as he grimaces.

“What’s our motto?” Donghyuck shouts.

“Two and three to infinity!” Mark shouts.

“Nobody goes to the hospital!” You shout.

“To the grave!” Renjun shouts.

“Huh, I guess we should have coordinated that,” Donghyuck says. “I was thinking something more like ‘happy birthday Renjun.’”

“Shoulda said something,” you say. You take a step to the couch, the world tilting to the side, though maybe it’s actually you because you stumble into the wall. It holds you up until you make it to the couch, sighing as you reach solid ground. A couple people sit next to you, friends of friends of Renjun whose names you don’t know regardless of the alcohol.

“You’re YN, right?” The girl closer to you says, making you feel a little guilty for having no idea who they are. She beams when you nod. “I live in Apollo Hall, Karina is my RA, she says you aced biochem.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “Who do you have?”

“Professor Ahn,” she says.

“He’s good,” you say, “I had him for a different class and he talks off topic all the time but if you visit him in his office hours once, he’ll remember and be more lenient on the research report. I can send you my notes, too, if you want.”

She smiles even wider. “Really?”

You nod, your brain sliding around your skull with the movement—not a good sign, only five shots into the challenge.

The music changes, a Britney Spears song that Donghyuck must have slipped into the rotation. The girl’s friend drags her up to dance before you get the chance to ask for her name.

Dancing sounds like so much fun, until you stand up and realize that you’ve been hydrated too well. Your bladder announces its need for attention much like the maintenance worker that fixed the leak in your shower—loud and last minute.

You push your way through the people crowded at the edge of the room, making your way to the hallway where the bedrooms and, more importantly, bathroom are. You pass by a semi-familiar face flirting with a girl from Renjun’s study group, but your bladder gives no time for your brain to make connections of recognition, let alone time to wave.

Finally, you break the crowd, ignoring the couple making out concerningly close to Donghyuck’s bedroom door (something you like to call “not my problem”). All your focus is on the door to the bathroom, a piece of lined notebook paper taped on with RESTROOM scribbled in marker. Just as you reach for the handle, the door swings inwards.

You might have caught yourself, two or three shots ago. Instead you tumble forward, the floor coming to meet you fast. And then you aren’t.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Jaemin says, laughing. He caught you by the elbows, your face pressed into his chest. He helps you straighten up, though he doesn’t let go of your arms.

“Jaemin.” You grin at him.

He tilts his head. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re pretty,” you say. Jaemin tilts his head and smiles at you. Endearing. Endearing, that Jaemin has an amused expression on his face. Like he is endeared by you. How funny.

But he really is pretty. He must be hot in the leather jacket, loose over his broad shoulders. Yes, those broad shoulders. He’s hot too. But first, he’s pretty. His black hair falls just above his eyes, loosely split down the middle, framing the perfect angles of his face–the perfect line of his nose, gentle curve of his cheekbones, that jawline–and of course those lips. Perfect lips.

Jaemin leans closer. “You’re prettier.”

You burst into laughter, stopping only when you snort. “You almost sound serious.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything else, still smiling at you, only a couple inches of space between you. Ignoring those lips this close is impossible. They’re the prettiest shade of pink, and he must have put on lip balm–or maybe it’s the lighting–because they glow. What do they feel like? They have to be soft—you’d bet everything in your pocket (if these pants had pockets) he tastes sweet. Like a fruit, a yummy, juicy fruit, dripping with juice, which reminds you—pee.

You push past Jaemin, into the bathroom. “Need to pee.”

He catches his hand on the door before you can close it, frowning a little. “You’re not going to slip and crack your head open?”

“Nope,” you say. “Really need to pee.” He lets go of the door and you slam it shut, using one hand on the counter to steady yourself while you fumble with the lock. After an eternity, you finally get to the toilet, which, despite the number of people crowded in a house of two college guys, isn’t totally disgusting.

Two minutes, an empty bladder, and clean hands later, you push the door open. Your balance has improved just enough for you to feel confident in your ability not to die on the dance floor—and with perfect timing because Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz just started playing. You find Donghyuck in the middle of the room and join him, grinning when he cheers.

Renjun appears halfway through the next song, shots in hand. More of the tequila ends up on the ground than in your stomach by the time you knock it back but Renjun shouts, “Six!” anyways.

Another 2000s hit plays (it’s definitely Chenle’s playlist, which reminds you that you haven’t seen him in a while) and you get Renjun to stay on the dance floor for the full song. It’s hot and sweaty and you wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.

Donghyuck cheers again, hyping up the people that join your little circle. You turn to see Jeno, wearing a piece of fabric that technically could be called a shirt though it really looks like a hole for his head that’s completely open at the sides except for the ties at the bottom. Beside him, and right next to you, Jaemin grins at you. He throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you against his side.

“And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh!” You shout along with the song, vaguely aware of the rest of the guys singing along—except for Jaemin, who waits for Ludacris’s verse to come in to rap it word for word.

Renjun drags you away before the next song can start. “Number seven,” he shouts in your ear over the bass.

“What about Donghyuck?” You glance behind you where he starts a full performance, an empty water bottle as a microphone.

Renjun shrugs. “He’ll catch up.”

You watch Renjun struggle to pour the tequila, holding the bottle with two hands off the edge of the counter to get the mouth as close to the paper shot cups as possible. You can’t see how much tequila actually makes it into the cups but it burns its way down, sending your stomach spinning. Only a third of the drinks you are supposed to take with him but you’re already questioning the next round.

Renjun gets dragged away from you by some people you aren’t even sure are actually his friends, but you lose track of him when someone tugs on your hand. Jaemin, again. He lost his jacket at some point, wearing a shirt that matches Jeno’s, showing off his considerable arms. Even in the poor lighting from the strobe lights Donghyuck set up, you can see the definition in his biceps.

Yeah, you’re definitely staring.

Jaemin asks something but you can’t hear him over the music. You step closer, stumbling a little on your own feet. As always, he catches you, arm sliding around your waist.

“How are you doing?” He shouts over the music.

You grab his other forearm to keep yourself from falling over. “I’m so hungry.”

Jaemin leans closer, lips brushing against your ear. “Wanna get out of here?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he grins. “The McDonald’s, across the street?”

“I need French fries,” you say, letting go of his arm and spinning out of his embrace to face the door. He catches you before you can go too far (and fall on your face), looping his elbow through yours.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything falls silent. Not everything, because you can still hear the bass from inside the house, and cicadas sing, and the highway is close enough to hear the rumbling of engines passing by. But quiet falls in the space between you and Jaemin, a breath waiting to fall free.

He doesn’t let go over your arm, using his other hand to brace the three steps in front of Donghyuck and Renjun’s place. He leans on you as much as you lean on him, magnets stuck to each other, except magnets don’t struggle to stay upright crossing an empty street. Maybe if they could get drunk.

The street light flickers above you, crackling electricity. You can feel Jaemin’s bare arm against yours, firm muscle held taut. You peek at the boy beside you, his head tilted to the sky. Pretty. You won’t say it again for fear of being repetitive, but it’s the right word for this moment. Not just Jaemin, but the chilly night air, the faulty light above you fighting with the neon lights to illuminate your breath. You’ll blame the alcohol in the morning, but tonight it’s all pretty.

Jaemin swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he turns to meet your eyes. It’s definitely the alcohol but you don’t look away.

The crosswalk changes to the white man, beeping at you to cross the street. You tear your eyes away from him, settling for clinging to his arm to make it past the striped crosswalk illuminated by headlights.

You’re hardly the only drunk couple at McDonald’s. Jaemin notices you limping a little and drops you off in a booth, stumbling on his own to order. You must have done something dancing, though you don’t remember anything hurting. Your ankle hurts now, so you lean your head into your elbow and watch Jaemin’s back.

The fluorescent lights can’t make him look sickly. They show his arms in their full glory, open sides revealing enough of his body to make you self-conscious. The hint of a farmer’s tan dusts his arms, shoulders just a shade lighter than his forearms. Where did he get that from?

So many questions about him. So much to know. So little you do know but you like him so much it gets so hard to tell. What matters.

Jaemin puts his wallet into his back pocket, turning around and smiling when he meets your gaze. He slides into the seat across from you. “Potatoes are incoming.”

“Do you know what persimmons taste like?”

“What?” His brow furrows, a cute frown that makes you forget what you’d asked.

“Never mind,” you mumble. Opening your mouth any more around him is a dangerous game—you aren’t quite sure what will spill out.

He reaches out to tap his finger on your arm. Like the sun, being in his atmosphere makes everything warmer, his touch boiling your skin. The heat flows through your body, each cell vibrating with the need for something.

“You feeling okay?”

It takes considerable concentration to work past his finger, which has graduated to drawing shapes, and answer him. “Renjun wanted to do twenty-one shots for his birthday but seven is beyond enough.”

Jaemin whistles. “Is Renjun going to survive tonight?”

“Probably not,” you mumble. “That opens up a council position. You could be a good social media person. Your face is pretty enough.”

“Is that the only requirement for student council?” Jaemin asks. “Being pretty?”

“You can’t be a poli-sci major either,” you say, “which you pass. It helps that you’re smart, and kind. I like people that are smart and kind.”

“That’s a low bar,” Jaemin says. “What else do you like?”

“Hm…” Your voice rumbles, a funny feeling in the back of your throat. You hum for a little longer before you remember Jaemin asked you a question. What do you like?

“Sharks. They’re much cooler than dolphins. And potatoes, I love potatoes. I like Renjun. And Donghyuck. And Mark, even though he’s a poli-sci major. I like Chenle and Jisung. They might be my favorite people.” And you. I like you so much I don’t know how to say it.

“What about doctors?” Jaemin leans closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Do you like doctors?”

You lift your head up, pouting your lips at him. “Doctors have needles. I don’t like needles.”

Jaemin laughs. “Even if the doctor is super rich?”

“Rich? From taking all my money?” You cry.

“Rich from saving people’s lives,” he says. “Like a neurosurgeon.”

You squint at him, the blurriness of your eyelashes mixing with the blurriness of the alcohol and canceling out until his face becomes clear. “Are you actually pre-med because of Grey’s Anatomy?”

Jaemin looks away, running a hand to the back of his neck. “Maybe.” His biceps are almost enough to distract you from his admission. Almost.

“Oh my god.” You can’t hold back the giggles, trying to cover your mouth with your hand. Tears prick at your eyes and you gasp for breath, stomach twisting the alcohol with the giggles and turning over itself until you aren’t sure if you’re starving or need to throw up.

“It’s a perfectly respectable career!” Jaemin says.

“You want to be Patrick Dempsey?” You say between giggles. “Not even McSteamy?”

“Hey, he’s—wait, you watch it too?”

You shrug. “It’s fun.”

“Then how are you making fun of me!” He cries.

“I didn’t go into medicine because of it!”

Before he can say anything else, the workers shout a number. He glances at the receipt and shoots you a glare without a drop of malice in his eyes and leaves.

Jaemin being silly. Jaemin bickering with you. Hard to believe that even two weeks ago, you never would have believed he watched children’s shows in class and chose his profession because of a soap opera. Jaemin who keeps surprising you, who makes you want to believe that maybe he’s from the same planet as you after all.

He brandishes the brown paper bag in front of him like treasure. What does it matter that you’re grinning because of him and not the golden treats inside?

“For you,” he says, setting the bag in front of you and tilting it on its side so you can reach inside for the fries. “I didn’t know what sauce, so I fought… Okay, maybe flirted with the worker, but the important part is that I got one of each.” He pauses glancing at you. “Which apparently you don’t need.”

“So good,” you say, eating them properly: no sauce, just freshly fried golden perfection. You look up to find Jaemin smiling at you… fondly? Is that what’s in his eyes?

“What?”

He shakes his head. “You’re just cute.”

You stare at him, fry halfway to your mouth. He looks down, the tips of his ears tinted red as he grabs a fry and dips it in honey mustard.

The rest of your time at McDonald’s is dedicated to properly enjoying the French fries and not at all sneaking glances at Jaemin sneaking glances at you. You finish the fries long before the swirly feeling in your stomach goes away. The butterflies must be drunk too.

“Back to Renjun’s?” Jaemin asks, standing up and extending a hand for you to take. The most dangerous handhold of your life. You don’t think twice about taking it.

“Mm, I’m pretty tired,” you say, “and Renjun was pretty adamant about the twenty-one shots thing. If we go back, he won’t let me go until one of us is in the hospital.” Walking is easy when Jaemin lets you lean on his shoulder. Standing just outside the McDonald’s, your shadows stretch ten times as tall as you, the lines between you and Jaemin undefined.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t worried about him?”

“He swore to send Donghyuck to the grave before him, he’ll be fine,” you say, “plus Jisung is there, sober. They’ll be fine.”

“And you?”

“I’ll be fine when I get home.” You tilt your head up from his shoulder only for him to look down at you, his nose brushing against yours. Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding. But you don’t move away and neither does he.

“Take me home?”

He doesn’t move for a heartbeat, eyes flickering to your lips. Then he turns his head straight, patting your head with his free hand a couple times. “Okay.”

You whisper directions, a ten minute walk from Renjun’s place. The walk home is considerably less stumbly, your balance recovered halfway through the fries. You cling to Jaemin’s arm anyway, more afraid of letting him go than falling.

The building appears far too quickly, Jaemin pushing open the glass doors and walking you to the elevators. You don’t dare say a word to break the silence as the elevator dings to the third floor. He waits until you reach your door to disentangle himself from you, standing with the tips of his sneakers a millimeter away from yours, catching your hands in his.

“Goodnight, YN,” he says.

No. This isn’t the time for goodnight, not when every atom in your body might explode if he takes a step away. You tighten your fingers around his.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask. “See my apartment?”

He tilts his head, a little frown creasing his brow. “Okay.”

You fumble with your keys, hands shaking when you open the door. Emotions swirl around you, making it difficult to tell the difference between excitement and anxiety, if it exists. Calling the place an apartment is a bit of a stretch. Glorified broom closet is your preferred term–a bed shoved against the far wall with a tiny window next to it, desk tucked in next to it like a puzzle piece without enough space for a chair, a door for your bathroom, directly next to the “kitchen” of a stovetop oven and sink, and a closet that barely fits your coats.

Beyond being tiny, you left the place a mess, second, third, and fourth contenders for outfits strewn on your bed, unwashed dishes in the sink. The entryway is the only space for the two of you to stand together comfortably but you lead Jaemin farther in, balling up the clothes and tossing them into your hamper underneath the bed.

“I don’t normally have company,” you explain.

“It’s okay,” he says, “my room’s a mess too.” He picks up the pink teddy bear from your bed and smiles. “A gift?”

You shake your head. “Bought it myself for surviving sophomore year.” You pull the great white shark out from beneath a blanket. “Freshman year.”

“Cute,” Jaemin says, still looking at the bear.

You follow Jaemin as he wanders the tiny room. He pauses at a framed picture of the student council that sits on your desk. It was a gift from last year’s graduating cabinet, the whole group, president, appointed cabinet, unofficial members, and the fresh-terns, fifteen people in total.

“That one’s my ex,” you say, the word still strange in your mouth. “If you count two weeks as even dating.”

“The one in red?”

You nod.

Jaemin snorts. “I’m way hotter than him.” He sets the picture and turns, and suddenly only a couple inches of space separate him from you. This close, you can see exactly how pretty he is, long eyelashes that cannot be natural, even longer when he stares at his toes instead of meeting your eyes. And, this close, you can see the soft pink of his lips, lower lip jutting out just a tiny bit.

Not drunk, not yet sober, it’s easy to lean a little closer, brush your lips softly against his. The kiss is over before you can think about it.

You open your eyes to Jaemin staring at you, eyes wide, somewhere between disbelief and fear. You open your mouth to apologize but he moves faster, hand coming up to cup your face and pulling you closer until you kiss him again, your hand instinctively catching you against his chest. He links his fingers with your free hand, tugging you even closer to him.

He moves slow at first, a gentle kiss that takes your breath away anyway. He pulls away when the stars flood your brain, smile boyish and sweet. His thumb strokes your cheek into the shape of a heart. Then he slides his hands to the back of your neck, letting go over your other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you against his chest.

Jaemin knows how to kiss. He moves like it’s his last chance, desperate lips telling truths words can’t capture. And you might not have as much experience, but you understand the language of desperation. A never ending chain of fireworks explode within you, pushing you to wrap your arms around his neck, kiss him even harder. Your hands move on their own, tugging at the cloth of his shirt until he leans back, breathing heavily.

“How far you want to go?” He asks, chest rising and falling with each breath. “You know consent is so sexy.”

You laugh, giddiness making it difficult to think. “You have a condom?”

Jaemin grins, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He slips the shiny packet out, tossing his wallet to the floor along with his shirt. He gives you a proper amount of time to ogle his chest before tugging you against him again, your heart pounding so hard against him he must feel it.

He tilts your head towards his until his lips brush against yours, and when he speaks, you feel every word. “Now where were we?”

[Na Jaemin] sorry I had to go :( [Na Jaemin] wish I could have been there when you woke up [Na Jaemin] but! I have a surprise [Na Jaemin] [image attached] [Na Jaemin] see you in the morning <3

You blink at the message, a picture of him wearing a fuzzy headband in the middle of his skincare routine. Your head pounds a little, but otherwise your hangover isn’t too bad. Definitely not the worst it’s ever been.

No, the strange feeling in your stomach is something else. Last night is burned into your memory, every move, every touch. Jaemin, who you fell asleep beside, though the timestamp on the texts show he didn’t stay much longer after. Not that you expected him to. It’s Jaemin, you remind your traitorous heart. No matter how much he flirts, no matter what he did drunk, he was never yours.

Your phone rings, but it isn’t Jaemin.

“Hey,” Renjun says.

“You sound awful,” you say, throat aching.

“You’re one to talk,” Renjun says, “and you didn’t even get to double digits. Donghyuck out-drank you.”

“And how’s Donghyuck doing?”

“Throwing up in the shower, it sounds like.”

You laugh, the motion, sending your stomach spinning. “Happy birthday Renjun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I actually did call for a reason.”

“I am not helping with clean up,” you say, “Chenle swore he’d do all of it since he bailed on set up.”

“Not that,” Renjun says. “I’ll be over as soon as I can walk without passing out.” He hangs up, leaving you to frown at the empty screen.

Well, considering how late he got back, Jaemin probably won't be awake any time soon. You need to shower and rehydrate and try to convince your stomach to take something—and with how Renjun sounded over the phone, it seems like you’ll have plenty of time.

An hour later, slightly burnt toast, and post-Advil, the headache is mostly gone. Your stomach still twists at the thought of Jaemin. You jump at the doorbell but find Renjun wearing a mismatched sweatsuit and his bright orange crocs, glasses nearly sliding off the bridge of his nose. He wears the hood of his sweatshirt up but you can see tufts sticking up.

“God, did you shower?” You catch a whiff as he passes by, reeking of tequila.

“I was serious about coming over as soon as possible.” He groans, collapsing on your bed. “I think I maybe came over too early though. Might need to throw up.”

“Do you want toast?” You offer.

He glares at you. “Just sit.” Renjun rarely speaks with patience but today he seems extra short on it. Maybe because of the hangover, but the way he glares at the carpet before turning to look at you makes you wonder if something else is wrong. His eyes soften a little when he meets your eyes, his frown lightening just barely.

“I really wish I didn’t have to tell you this,” he begins. “Did you go out with Jaemin last night?”

“He… took me home,” you say. “What’s wrong Renjun?”

“Last night—well—this morning, I met some guys from Sigma Nu, who are friends with Jeno and Jaemin,” he says, “who were talking about how Jaemin is going to be president. About how he’s messing around with the frontrunner, trying to distract them or fuck around, trying to take the presidency.” He falls quiet, studying your face.

“He wouldn’t.” Your voice feels so small.

He wouldn’t, you said, but you can’t even convince yourself. Your heart flounders, drowning in a lake of its own creation, choking on fantasies. Your brain takes control in the chaos, gears turning despite the crashing waves. Facts don’t need oxygen.

1) Jaemin approached you about the presidency first

2) he pretended not to know you were running

3) he’s known for hooking up with anyone

4) he never belonged in your world

The conclusion is obvious, a conclusion you could have come to much sooner if you weren’t too busy getting swept off your feet by his easy flirting and sweet smile. Though your heart doesn’t want to believe it, it makes too much sense. So much more sense than the hope you were stupid enough to believe in. Jaemin isn’t that type. How many of your friends told you that? How many times did you tell yourself that? But you let him hurt you anyway because he held your hand and called you cute. How quickly a fruit can rot when it sits in the palm of your hand.

Jaemin doesn’t exist a universe away–he lives in your world, worse than a cliche. The type of boy that made you want to believe in him, even when you knew better from the start, and maybe that’s the worst part. He never hid who he was, what he wanted. It’s you that wanted more, that believed he could want something more. How pitiful.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun says softly. “I wanted him to be different.”

“Did you? Because everyone was telling me about how I needed to be careful, protect myself, not get hurt over him. Did any of you consider that I didn’t ever expect anything from him?” You shake your head. “No, you all thought poor little YN, getting their feet swept out from under themself over a boy that doesn’t give a shit about them? A boy that’s actively trying to stop them from achieving a dream they’ve had since they started college? Well, guess what? You all were right. Congratulations.” You bite your lip trying to hold back the tears but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun repeats. He pats your arm, looking away when you swipe at your eyes. He waits for you to take a shaky breath, hand on your arm. You grab the teddy bear, trying not to hear Jaemin calling it cute.

“I slept with him.” The admission burns its way up your throat. “Last night.” You sigh. “You don't have to tell me I’m an idiot.”

“Okay, I wasn’t going to say that,” Renjun throws his arm over your shoulders. “Though I’m kind of regretting sitting on the bed.” He scoots a little forward but squeezes your shoulder. “You’re going to do things you regret, there’s no stopping it.”

“Why do you always have to be right? Why am I exclusively attracted to shitty men?” Your chin digs into the innocent bear, jaw tightening. “Why can’t I just like a boy that likes me?”

“Do you think maybe you liked him too much?” Renjun asks gently. “Like maybe you liked the idea of him more than Jaemin himself.” He pauses, squeezing your arm. “Don’t let a boy that isn’t real hurt you.”

You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. “But he was real. Sweeter than persimmon. Like a strawberry. Or a mango.”

“Okay, I’m not understanding.”

“I thought he was a persimmon, a magic fruit I could imagine tasting sweet or sour or tart but he’s real and even though his flavor isn’t a mystery, it’s better than what I could have imagined. Like taking a bite of a pineapple and it’s the best pineapple you’ve ever had, juicy and sweet.”

“Okay first of all, that’s a terrible metaphor, please stop talking about how he tastes or I will throw up,” Renjun says. “Also persimmons are real.”

“I know that,” you snap, “but I’ve never had one, so they’re magic to me.” You stare ahead, grateful Renjun knows when you just need a little bit of time to work up the courage to say what you need to say. “I’m saying you are right. I didn’t really like him, not at first. But it’s worse than that because when I did get to know him, it was so much better. He wasn’t a dream, he was a boy who watches Grey’s Anatomy and does skincare even after a night of partying.

“I know it makes more sense, that his flirting wasn’t real, that he was never really interested in me. But nothing real about him makes sense, and I want to believe in him, still.” You purse your lips. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“You really liked him,” Renjun says, “that won’t just go away.”

“That would be too easy,” you mutter.

Renjun laughs. “You’re going to be fine. There are so many better men.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you say.

“And I was right,” Renjun says, “Jaemin is better than last time. Marginally. At least he isn’t a poli-sci major.”

You snort.

“See, you’re already laughing at him.” Renjun pushes you off his shoulder, standing up and groaning. “Now, I’m going to throw up in your bathroom, and then we can watch dumb action movies until your brain rots. The rest of the guys are supposed to come over, though I think Donghyuck is still throwing up.”

You bury your face into the bear. “Does everyone know?”

Renjun pauses. “The guys from this morning were sort of proud to be the ones to tell us.”

You groan. The door to your bathroom closes but you barely hear it. You clutch the bear a little tighter, as if the fluff could break through your chest and fill the spilling hole in your heart.

It would be too easy to blame Jaemin, to pretend like none of the pain is from your own stupidity. But you already told Renjun. You knew it from the start.

Knocking at the door, a knock that means only one person. You wipe the tears from your eyes and take a deep breath that does nothing to steady your heart.

“God, I was afraid I was waking you up.” Jaemin starts talking as soon as you open the door. He holds up a bag, a tray with two iced coffees and a hot cup. He looks unfairly good and, of course, he grins at you. “I wasn’t entirely sure what your hangover cure is, so I got hot and iced coffee, and there’s a breakfast sandwich and a donut and also these potato things, I really wasn’t sure what you’d like, but–”

“Did you know that I was running for president?”

Jaemin freezes, frown slowly curling his brow. “What are you–”

“Just answer the question.” You grip the door handle, knuckles turning white.

He pauses a moment too long. “It’s not like that.”

“Never talk to me again.” You fight the urge to slam the door, but your neighbors don’t have to suffer your wrath. You shake your head, “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit.”

Jaemin opens his mouth but you close the door, sliding the deadlock as hard as you can. He has the audacity to try to explain himself. If you didn’t want to hear him out so badly, you might laugh. Instead you turn your back on the door, sliding down it until you can rest your head on your knees and sob.

Jaemin makes it halfway down the aisle of seats on Tuesday before you turn to Renjun, panic and tears in your eyes. He glares at Jaemin so hard he freezes in his tracks and doesn’t try again. He doesn’t look at you in class, not even a peek. On Thursday, he walks straight to his seat.

Chenle doesn’t bother to throw his packages into the recycling after opening them. He says he’s hanging onto them to make moving out easier, but really he’s just too lazy to break them down. You have to step around them to get into his apartment, since he thought it would be fun to make an obstacle course out of them. Navigating these sober is hard enough, you have no idea how he makes it to bed after a night out.

But today, it’s worth it. It’s been two weeks since you cut off Jaemin, a month since the day you bumped into him in class (a month and three days but who’s counting?). He doesn’t look at you anymore. You haven’t fully escaped him–every once in a while you’ll hear his laugh from the other side of the lecture room. The sound still stabs between your ribs, a wound turned new each time you hear it. But it cuts a little more shallow each time. One day you won’t feel it at all.

And today, Chenle got a puppy.

She cries before you make it over the baby gate in Chenle’s room. A tiny ball of white fluff bounds toward you, tripping over her own feet.

“Hi baby!” Your voice automatically rises three pitches looking at her. “Aren’t you just adorable!” You crouch down, letting her jump on your knees. She won’t sit still long enough to be pet, sprinting around your feet, then back to Chenle sitting on the floor, back resting against his bed.

“Hi to you, too,” Chenle says pointedly.

“Hi Chenle,” you turn back to his puppy. “And hello puppy!”

“Her name is Daegal,” he says. You can hear him rolling his eyes. “‘Cause she’s got a big ass head.”

“Chenle is so mean to you!” You coo at the puppy at your feet. “But that’s okay, I’ll take good care of you. You can come home with me!”

“You hear that baby?” Chenle says. “YN wants to pay me $1000 to take care of you!”

You stare at him. “Did you seriously adopt a $1000 puppy?”

He shrugs. “She’s really cute.”

“You’re insane.” Daegal settles down enough to let you pat her head.

“I invite you into my home for some much needed puppy love and this is how you treat me?” Chenle sighs. “To think that I felt bad for you, that I told you about her before anyone else. This is how I get treated for my kind heart.”

“I don’t need your pity,” you say. Daegal licks your hand.

“It’s not pity.” He pauses. “Well I guess it is pity, but you’re also my friend YN. Believe it or not, watching you live the sad boy lifestyle over some dude, again, is not fun. I’d much rather watch you being happy with my puppy.”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” you mutter.

Chenle claps his hands, making Daegal jump. “But that does remind me, everyone has been too much of a coward to ask, but I’ve heard from tertiary sources about his reputation, but I’d love a first hand account.”

“What are you talking about?” You eye him.

“How was the sex?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

He shrugs. “Well, yeah.”

You pick up Daegal, staring at her instead of Chenle. She wiggles her tail, then her paws, so you set her back down. “I’m not answering that.”

Chenle narrows his eyes, studying you. “That means it was good.”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

“And yet you’re not denying it.”

“Please shut the fuck up.”

For once he listens. With Renjun, silence means peace–he doesn’t say anything that doesn’t matter. When Chenle doesn’t speak, it means he has something to say and he isn’t sure how to say it. You peek up at him and your suspicions are confirmed. He chews on his lip, frowning at you.

“Just tell me.”

Chenle purses his lips. “He dropped out.”

“Of school?”

He rolls his eyes. “The election.”

You stare at him. “Seriously?”

“He hasn’t touched his application since Renjun’s birthday and Donghyuck said yesterday he emailed and said he wasn’t going forward with it.” He doesn’t say anything about how technically you should be checking the email.

“But it doesn’t make any sense.”

Chenle shrugs. “I’m just telling you what I was told.” He stands up. “Now! How much do you like cleaning up dog pee?”

You glance down at Daegal, who squats in the middle of the room, a dark stain on the carpet beneath her. Chenle tosses you some paper towels and a can of Febreeze.

“Why am I cleaning up after your dog?”

“Because you tried to steal her,” he says, “and I’ve already done this three times today and I’m really sick of it.”

You shake your head but pull off a paper towel and press it into the stain.

“We’re going out tomorrow night, by the way,” Chenle says. “And you’ve passed two weekends in a row so you’ve hit a cap for the month. You have to come with, no ‘buts.’”

Apparently the grace period of pity is over. Whatever, it’ll be nice to do something other than hiding in your room watching Powerpuff Girls. And maybe you will see him. Maybe you’ll get an answer to the giant question mark that’s lodged itself in your heart when Chenle told he dropped out. Maybe the little caterpillar of hope that’s survived these past few weeks can metamorphize.

And maybe he’ll break your heart again. But you won’t get any answers daydreaming.

How Renjun can still drink Tequila, you truly do not understand. Ever since his birthday, the thought of it makes your stomach flip, and you didn’t even drink that much. But he sips on the margarita, insisting it doesn’t taste like alcohol.

“It’s disgusting,” you say, pushing it closer to him. “I am not drinking this.”

He rolls his eyes. “You do realize the whole gimmick of this place is all their drinks are made with tequila, right?”

“No one told me that!” You glare at Chenle, who showed up at your door at exactly 8:00pm and dragged you to the bar. “For the record, I would have pre-gamed. But I guess I can be the babysitter tonight.”

Chenle cheers. “Donghyuck, you’re back in! YN is babysitting!”

Your drink slides down the table to Donghyuck, interrupting whatever ‘conversation’ he was having with Jisung.

“I thought the whole point of dragging you out was to make you have fun,” he says.

“You better be fun, then,” you say.

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows but eventually take a long sip. “Brain freeze!” He cries, clutching his forehead. You laugh with the rest of the guys. It’s almost normal, except you can’t help but peek at the door whenever somebody walks in.

The night passes and the guys get more drunk. The bar gets more crowded–soon you are squished between Renjun and Chenle, barely able to breathe as the music slowly gets louder. The tequila looks more and more appealing but the guys need at least one person sober to make it back alive: Chenle arm wrestles a stranger while Donghyuck has some poor soul cornered, practicing his pick up lines.

When Chenle loses, you push past him, muttering something about fresh air that they probably can’t hear. You push through the crowd of drunk people, trying not to remember the last time you did this.

You squint at the steps, edges difficult to see with so little light. Who builds a bar on the second floor of a building? You make it to the final step but misjudge how close it is and your foot slips off the edge, sending you tumbling forward. You might have caught yourself, but you don’t have to—strong arms catch you mid fall, wrapping around your waist and swinging you clean off the stairs and onto solid ground. You aren’t surprised at all to look into Jaemin’s eyes as he lets go.

He frowns at you, eyes so dark they look black. Maybe it’s the lack of light, but the twinkle in his eyes, the glint you’ve come to recognize as trouble, is missing.

“Hi,” you say.

He drops his arms, stuffing his hands into his back pockets. “So you’re talking to me now?”

An apology begins on your lips but you can’t push it out. Not when you still don’t understand. “Can we talk?”

He glances at you. “Have you been drinking?”

You shake your head.

“Okay.” He doesn’t walk away, folding his arms over his chest.

When you imagined this conversation, the sun shined so that you could see the warmth in his eyes. He smiled at you, called you silly for ever doubting him. The Jaemin in your head wouldn’t ever do something to hurt you.

But Jaemin doesn’t exist in your head–it’s far past time you learned that.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have just cut you off. But I thought… I don’t know what I thought, let alone what I think now.” You force yourself to meet his cold eyes, searching for a hint of warmth. “Chenle told me you dropped out of the presidency.”

He nods slowly.

“But Renjun told me that someone told him that the presidency is the only reason you ever pretended to like me, but if you dropped out then I really don’t get it. Not that I ever got it in the first place, though, because you’re you and I’m me, and everyone kept telling me that, like I didn’t already know that you are supposed to be a persimmon and grow on a tree far far away from my lemon or pomegranate or whatever kind of fruit I am, because the point is we were never meant to be.” You take a deep breath, realizing that you don’t exactly sound sane. “What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t make sense. It made sense when you were trying to cheat me out of the presidency, but you dropped out. And it doesn’t make sense.”

Jaemin blinks slowly at you. “You would rather believe that I was trying to rob your presidency than that I actually like you?”

“Do you?”

He frowns. “Of course I do. I like you so much I think about things I’ve never wanted before, the silly shit–watching horror movies as an excuse to cuddle, having picnics by the river, buying groceries together–I wanted to do all of it with you.

“You talk a lot about how we’re different people—who gives a shit? If I’m the type of person that wants to be with you and you’re the type of person that wants to be with me, why does any of that matter?” He takes a step closer to you, and you can see you were wrong. His eyes aren’t cold, they’re full of emotion, dark waves of hurt. “What do I have to do to prove it to you? Should I tell you how pretty you are? How incredibly smart you are—not fake smart like me, but really smart. And when I’m around you, I like who I am. I know it’s cheesy but you bring out the best in me.

“I know I fucked up. I should have told you how I felt before anything else, and I shouldn’t have left. I regretted it as soon as I was gone but it was terrifying to lay next to you and give you my bare heart, even when I didn’t think you would ever try to hurt me.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if it hurts more thinking that you never wanted a relationship or thinking that I’d ever stoop that low. I mean, everyone tells me about my reputation, but I didn’t think you cared about any of that.”

Tears prick at your eyes. How could you be such an idiot? Listening to all the wrong people, especially yourself. Jaemin doesn’t exist in another world, he isn’t any kind of fruit. He’s a boy that you like that likes you back. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching a tentative hand out to rest against his arm. “I’m so sorry.” He drops his head, sighing. “I was an idiot.”

He sighs, staring at your hand. You start to drop it but he grabs it, squeezing your fingers. “Where do we go from here?”

You study him, eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. Jaemin who is not a fruit, not an alien, just a boy.

“Hey.” You reach out and cup his cheek, waiting for him to meet your eyes. “My name is YN. I think you’re really cute.”

For a heartbeat he doesn’t move. Then he smiles, cheek rising underneath your hand. “Hey, my name is Jaemin. I think you’re really cute too.”

“Oh really?” You slide your hand to the back of his neck, wrapping your other arm across it. His arms wrap on your waist, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes you flush against him, head tucked into your shoulder just as yours is tucked into his.

“I know we can’t start over,” he says, “but can we start again?”

“How about this time we just talk to each other?” You say, tapping your fingers on his shoulder. “No more rumors and gossip.”

He nods, chin digging into your neck a little. “I swear, I won’t give you any reason to doubt me ever again. I won’t be the kind of guy your friends call a red flag.”

You loosen your grip and lean back to look him in the eye. “Wait, did they seriously say that to you?”

“I ran into Donghyuck after I dropped out and we had a very… one sided conversation with his side doing all the talking,” Jaemin says, “and Renjun made it obvious from the start that he didn’t like me.”

You laugh a little, then even more when he pouts. “You’ll win them over again.”

“They really don’t like me,” he says.

You cup his cheek again. “You’ll change their minds.” He leans into your touch, closing his eyes. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. He gasps a little, hands tightening on your waist.

“Now, am I remembering incorrectly, or are you an amazing kisser?” You ask.

He grins, leaning forward and closing the distance without wasting a second. Neither of you can stop smiling, lips and teeth gnashing together but it’s still the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You stretch an arm out, only to find more bed instead of empty space. You sit up, shivering as the blanket falls away. Right, you fell asleep in Jaemin’s bed. His room is much bigger than yours, sharing an apartment with Jeno. He has enough room for a dresser and a nicer desk, even a chair. It seems he lied to you about being messy, because even when you show up unannounced, like today, his clothes are neatly folded and the biggest mess you’ve found has been three dirty dishes in the sink (which you later found out were Jeno’s).

Jeno, apparently, isn’t all bad–he did let you in even though your boyfriend was still out. He doesn’t fully trust you, but then again, your friends don’t hide their mistrust of Jaemin either. You maintain your earlier stance that time will heal that wound.

You hear a knife against a cutting board coming from the kitchen, so you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and shuffle towards the sound, unable to stop the smile from spreading up your lips when you turn the corner and find Jaemin standing at the counter. He glances behind him and grins at you, and even though you just woke up from a nap and probably have messy hair and marks on your face, he says, “you look sexy.”

“So cheesy,” you say. He laughs and turns back around. You slip behind him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his back and closing your eyes. He radiates warmth better than any blanket. It’s too easy to lean against him, take a deep breath of the scent of his laundry detergent and cling to him. Jaemin moves slowly, careful not to hit you by accident.

“What’re you doing?”

“A surprise,” he says, “at least my attempt at one.” He sets down the knife on the counter and taps on your hands, pulling them apart gently and spinning around to face you before setting your hands back on his waist. He tilts his head at you when you purse your lips and frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Still no ass,” you say, patting him a little lower than his waist.

“Hey!” He sticks his lower lip out. “I’m trying.”

“No one’s perfect,” you say, sliding your hands back up and sneaking a kiss to his cheek.

“You are,” he says, cupping your face to kiss you properly. Jaemin still kisses like it’s his last chance, drawing out every moment, lips lingering on yours until your head spins. It’s only when you can’t breathe that he finally pulls away.

“Good answer,” you say.

He smiles. “If you come to the gym with me I’d be more motivated to get an ass you’d be proud of.”

“You send enough pictures for me to know that if I saw you at the gym I would never survive,” you say. “You want me to die?”

He laughs, squishing your face together with his hands. “If anyone’s going to die, it’s going to be me, because you are too cute.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, still squished together in a pout. He laughs at the outrage on your face, letting go of your cheeks and slipping his hands behind your neck, kissing you one more time for real, letting go far too early.

“The surprise,” he says. He lets go of you with one arm, turning to the cutting board and holding up a slice of what he was cutting. It looks a little bit like a tomato, though it’s more orange than red, and about the size of a golf ball.

“A persimmon?”

“I still don’t really get the persimmon thing,” he says, “but I’ve never tried one.”

You blink at him. Jaemin makes it so easy to fall in love. He holds the piece closer to your mouth, waiting for you to open. A persimmon tastes sweet and mild and rich, a little bit like honey. Jaemin eats his own piece, frowning and nodding.

“No more magical mystical fruit,” Jaemin says.

“You’re going to make an amazing trophy husband,” you say. You tap him on the nose. “Maybe we could even be a power couple.”

He grins. “We’ll be so cool. Like Beyoncé and her husband.”

“Jay-Z?”

“Whatever.” Jaemin flips his hand. “The important part is that I am Beyoncé.”

You smack his shoulders softly. “Hell no, Beyoncé would never have a flat ass.”

“It always comes back to the ass.” He sighs. “Be honest: are you embarrassed by me?”

Once you never thought he could be embarrassing. That was before you knew he staked his career on a soap opera and wears jorts to the gym, before he called you drunk just to confess he accidentally stole your pencil, before he spent three hours putting up campaign posters for you (and then another two getting written up by campus police for not having permission). Before you fell in love with him.

“By you? Never.” You pat his cheeks. “Your ass leaves much to be desired, though.”

thank you for reading!

#🌟 stars galaxy #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct reader #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct fluff #nct angst #jaemin #na jaemin #nct jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst

1K notes · View notes

katszumi · 17 days

Text

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

pt two

914 notes · View notes

amomentsescape · 4 months

Note

A candle lit bubble bath with the slashers (and Sinclair brothers) after very bad and long day of chasing a victim who was being extra difficult?

Slashers + Sinclair Brothers & a Bubble Bath with Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

A/N: I didn't really go into detail about them having trouble with their victim. I mostly focused on the aftermath. I hope that's okay!

Freddy Krueger

He's honestly worse than a teenage girl

Immediately comes to you ranting and calling the victim every name in the book

You just wait for him to get the anger out of his system

Once he's done dumping all of his thoughts out on you, he insists on spending some time just relaxing with one another

He clearly needs it

Jumps at the opportunity of a bath with you, excited to be this close to you (especially with no clothes on)

He likes when you lean against him, giving him full access to place kisses on your neck

Can change the lighting in his world to whatever he feels like

He says he just doesn't like candles

But you're certain the flames freak him out a bit

He keeps the water from getting cold, allowing you both to stay in the tub for literal hours if your heart desires

Michael Myers

Michael is pretty self-aware that his anger is explosive

So when he comes home after wasting his whole night chasing down one victim, he's fuming

Immediately locks himself in the bedroom for a good hour, not wanting to accidentally hurt you

You've been through this a few times before, knowing that he'll come to you when he's ready

Once he feels calm enough, he comes out and sits beside you, letting you rest your weight against him

Seeing how dirty he is, you insist on having him join you in the tub

He denies it for a bit, but eventually gives in when he realizes you're just going to keep asking

Has your back against his chest

He sort of just sits there for a while, letting the water do its thing

But if you start putting shampoo in his hair and help wash him up, he won't be opposed

Jason Voorhees

The only way Jason will ever take a bath is if you're in there with him

He's learned to find some relaxation in the warm water now, and today is one of those days where he feels like he really needs it

He comes home and just hugs you for a bit, trying to get rid of his frustrations from earlier

And once you lead him by the hand to the warm tub, he's already feeling a bit better

He's a little big for the tub, so you kind of have to sit in his lap when you join him, not that he minds

Practically becomes putty in your hands

Rub his back? Loves it

Give him little kisses? Melts

Literally just poke him? All yours

You're basically the only thing that makes Jason feel better after days like these

Thomas Hewitt

After the day he had, he just wants to see you

It's actually his idea to take a bath in the first place

He thinks it's the perfect excuse to be close with you

Will pull you up to your feet and lead you towards the tub

He already has the water running

Needs you to add the bubbles though

He just thinks you have the magic touch when it comes to adding the right amount of soap

Unsurprisingly, he's the one that wants to pamper you

Helps wash your back and rinse the shampoo from your hair

He isn't sure why, but taking care of you is what puts him in a good mood after a long day

There's just something about seeing you so happy that makes him feel happy too

Bubba Sawyer

When he comes home, he immediately grabs your hand and is blubbering about his day

Is making huge gestures on what went wrong and how upset he is

All the while, you are already leading him to the bathroom, Bubba not even paying attention to where he's going

You help him get out of his dirty clothes and lead him into the tub

You also begin lighting some of his favorite scented candles while he sits, him still freaking out

It's only when you get in the tub with him that he calms down

You both sit facing each other, pushing a toy duck back and forth

It's his favorite

His whines of anger slowly turn into giggles as you start throwing bubbles at him

With you, his mood can do a 180 in a matter of minutes

You both end up in a bit of a water fight though, soaking the whole floor

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is pissed

After chasing around this victim, knocking over furniture, and almost breaking his arm, he is practically ready to burst

You have to hold him tightly to you as you shush him, trying to calm him down

It only seems to work when you suggest taking a bath together to relax

He helps light candles while you tend to the water and bubbles

About makes you fall when he drags you into the tub with him, making you sit right in front of him

Gets very touchy and wants to help you get clean

But you also switch the roles too, helping him wash up even though he insists on just washing you

He eventually relaxes though, closing his eyes as you run your fingers through his hair

You both end up falling asleep together, only waking once the water cools

Norman Bates

He doesn't quite remember what had him so upset, but all he knows is that he needs some down time

When he walks through the door to see that you've already made him his favorite tea, he gives you the kindest smile

You offer a warm bath to help ease him, and he simply requests that you join as well

You both sip on your mugs while you catch up on everything that happened today

He enjoys talking with you

And having you cuddled up against him makes it all even better

He doesn't even remember feeling upset before

He just closes his eyes and leans his head back, still silently listening to you talk

Billy Loomis

He comes home silently fuming

(He got out most of his yells and punches earlier)

Before you can even ask about his day, he is grabbing you and pulling you to the bathroom with him

Doesn't say anything, just starts the bath and begins piling his dirty clothing onto the floor

Once the tub is full, he's pulling you in with him, wrapping his arms around you roughly

You both don't have to say anything, just finding comfort in being with each other during this time

He does take this moment to just reflect though, thinking of all the ways to kill in the future so another victim doesn't give him such a hard time

But don't worry, he's back to his usual self once the water has cooled

You both end up cuddling on the couch, still wrapped in your towels

Stu Macher

The moment you see his face through the door, he's on a tangent

He's telling you all about what happened, but he's talking so fast that you can barely keep up with him

And the whole time he's ranting, he's stripping off his clothes, rummaging through bags of chips, and pushing you towards the bathroom

You still don't understand how someone can multitask as much as him

He's helping you undress, still talking about how terrible the victim was and how frustrated he is feeling

But the moment he's in the tub, he's all lovey dovey

Insists on being held by you, wanting to be babied

He didn't even let the bath fill completely before hopping in, so he's practically yelling over the sound of the water

But it's worth it to be with him when he's so needy

Eric Draven

Even just one person escaping means another crime waiting to be committed in Eric's eyes

So when he comes home, his head hung a bit low, you immediately know

He sits beside you and leans into your arms, listening to your quiet reassurances

Once his mood seems a little lighter, you hurry into the bathroom and get the water running

You already had plenty of candles lit since Eric enjoys the gentle light they provide

He gets in the tub first, making sure the water isn't too hot or cold for you

Then, he opens his arms wide with a soft smile

You sit between his legs and let his full frame engulf you

Making you feel safe and secure is a guaranteed way to make Eric feel content

It never fails

Vincent Sinclair

He's absolutely exhausted

He just wants to lay with you and feel your hand in his hair

The moment he comes home and finds you waiting by the bathroom, a soft smile on your face, he's instantly put in a better mood

And this joy only increases when he sees the gentle flicker of the candles and the soapy bubbles of the tub

Immediately pulls you into a long hug, physically relaxing in your arms

And the moment the warm water engulfs him?

He's literally in heaven

Will gladly let you wash his hair and rub the soap along his back

That tough victim he dealt with just an hour before is long gone from his mind

He knows that whenever he needs fixing, you're the one to come to

Bo Sinclair

Bo isn't very easy to calm down

When he storms in, a scowl on his face, you can tell that things didn't go well for him

You just let him rage around for a bit, waiting patiently for him to calm down on his own

You can always tell he's feeling better once his eyes meet yours

"I have the bath running" is all you have to say

Bo gently nods

He'll never admit it, but during moments like these, he just wants to be pampered and babied

Leans his full weight against you, sighing in relief as the bubbles engulf him

"You always know just what I need, darlin'"

Expects long scalp massages and gentle squeezes along his arms

But don't worry, he's sure to return the favor, pressing soft kisses to your bare shoulders

Won't let you leave the tub until he's ready, and that's usually when the water has turned cold

Lester Sinclair

Although he doesn't really participate in the killings, he's still expected to help clean up

And boy, did his brothers leave him with quite the mess

He comes home filthy, his white t-shirt no longer recognizable

"Oh, honey. Looks like you need a bath."

His frustrated gaze softens quickly when looks at you

"Please," he insists

He pulls you in with him, wanting you to hold him so close that he is literally engulfed by you

Gazes at the different candles you lit while you talk to him softly

Even if his day didn't go well, he still wants to hear about yours

It's the best way to lighten his mood, knowing everything you were up to while he was out

794 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 3 months

Note

"The moon is beautiful tonight" bro if someone said that to me I'd choke 💀. So here's a request ig. Octavinnle and scarabia saying this phrase in casual conversation causes like. it doesn't mean anything in twst, but yuu doesnt know that. So yuu just looks at them like

And suddenly they're being a hell of a lot more affectionate towards them specifically, which is really starting to fuck with their emotion at this point. Cause like. "I've thought of what we'd act like as a married couple a million times and you are acting exactly like that"

So now like, idk, 2 months later or something, the boys basically do a "reject me so I can move on. Or not, please not, actually"

And yuus like? We've been together for 2 months now? I thought we were taking it slow but not this slow??

He doesn't even fully remember what he said, or the context that brought it up. If someone were to offer him all the world's wealth and power he wouldn't be able to tell them what brought about this change.

If he did he might find it ironic that in your world there was a place and time where "I love you" could be translated into "the moon looks beautiful tonight." For what else could he have been trying to say?

I LOVE THIS TROPE I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH. UNREQUITED REQUITED ACCIDENTAL LOVE CONFESSION MY BELOVED. Anyway yeah sure I can do this easy. Also can someone tell me what "ig" means I am an elderly woman ☆ヽ(o_ _)o notes: they/them used for Yuu, angst with the intent of comfort, not all of them follow the flow of the prompt exactly sorry, idk if I like this one? I'm so sorry it took so long I loved this prompt but for some reason when I sat down to write it my brain fried. More fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Azul

What He Says:

You can't actually see the moon from Octavinelle, so how the conversation topic got around to it is quite lost on you. "You just don't really seem like an astrology h- person to me?" It is all you can do to bite back a different description as you try to pretend your focus is on the silverware you are rolling and not the ever so slightly disheveled octomer across the office. You treasure these times, though you have to wonder just how intentional they are. Azul always has an aura of manufactured perfection around him, so to see him with ink stained hands and a crooked tie... you wish you were quick enough to get a picture with something other than your mind's eye.

"I could say the same about you," he smiles as he speaks in a way you want to believe is affectionate "though I suppose it shouldn't, every planet large enough to host life will have a moon." Your fingers fidget with the napkins as you wonder where to take this talk, talking with Azul is a lot like a dance at a masquerade you haven't been invited to. One small slip and he has you at his mercy.

"I was surprised your moon looks so similar to mine." You try. "It was very comforting to know it still represents my deepest, truest self."

"Then it must look beautiful tonight." Azul says softly, as if he is more testing the words in his mind than he is saying them. But still you startle and drop the silverware and make him jump.

"I'm sorry?" You stumble over yourself to pick it up and see a worried Azul standing in front of you.

"I said the moon must look beautiful tonight." He says as he bends to help, so casually that he has to call out to you again to make you realize this isn't a dream.

"It is." You pull yourself up and stand closer to him than you have ever previously dared.

When He Breaks (Two Months Later):

Ramshackle Prefect: Morning Azul ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Azul stares at his phone as if he is unused to the words on his screen. His thumb hovers over the heart as if he could reach out and touch what sits on the other side and know.

You: Morning, a bit early for you isn't it?

Not that he is upset exactly, this is a lovely thing to wake up to. But it's torture, pure torture to lack the context for any of this. When you started messaging him in the morning he had been too pleased to think critically. His mind conjures up images of how sweet you could sound when half asleep, what it would be like to hear that wish from you every morning out loud instead of on a screen. He shakes his head trying to blink back the tears as he rises, these thoughts are like one of those mirages he'd heard Jamil describe before. If he looked too hard it would disappear and leave him with nothing but sand, and there is nothing a merfolk fears more than the absence of water.

Ramshackle Prefect: (｡•̀ᴗ-) Ramshackle Prefect: hehe im goin back to sleep now. Ramshackle Prefect: dont overwork urself. it's supposed to be the weekend!!!

"Supposed to be the weekend" he wants to die. His heart hammers away at his chest as reads and re-reads his messages searching for a sign of how or why he is getting these messages. It's a thankless task, he's done this every day for... it feels like years but he knows from his carefully kept notes it's only been two months one week and three days. And he does mean notes, so what if he's taken to keeping Yuu's file in his night stand it's still kept in a file which means it isn't a diary. Not that it would be a problem if he did-

Ramshackle Prefect: oh before I forget is it ok if I stop by the lounge later? I tried making a pudding and want to know if it tastes good Ramshackle Prefect: y'know to people who don't eat literal dirt

-so no he wasn't keeping a diary but maybe Jade is on to something and he should really start because he hears those are good for managing stress.

~~~~

"Not that I am unimpressed with your efforts," is what Azul says out loud with a great deal of effort "but is it just me or have you been trying to cook a lot more lately?" It had started with little sandwiches and maybe a salad on days he was still at work late into the night, dropped off with the claim that Yuu was worried he wasn't taking care of himself but they never actually stayed to watch him eat it. This was new, as if they were testing the waters of something from their position on his couch, face still puffy with sleep as they settle themselves deep into its puffy cushions and watch him at his desk. Maybe they were concerned he would not want a desert and intended to stay and make sure he didn't throw it out. That had to be it, but then why visit dressed so casually? He can count on one hand the times he has seen Yuu out of an NRC uniform, and none of those allowed him a glimpse of their actual preferences in clothing.

It's like they've forgotten who they are dealing with.

"Well yeah, it's a good skill to have." Yuu looks at him with a genuine unguarded smile. "Besides it's fun to get your opinions on my food, I don't always understand how you come up with them but I feel like it helps."

"My I didn't realize you held my advice in such high esteem." He feels much more like himself now with this information. Of course Yuu has been messaging him more, they need him for something. It might sting, but it's safe. Logical. Something he can work with. "Maybe I'll just have to start charging you, can't have you taking my secrets and stealing away my customers, can I."

But for some reason this just makes you laugh. "No need to worry about that, I only really cook for you. And Grim I guess but like I said, he literally eats dirt. I mean just the other day-

"What did you say?" Azul's voice sounds strained.

"About Grim eating dirt?" You say, and Azul finally for someone so smart and so proud on his ability to read people thinks that he might have made a mistake. "He says he's making a tier list."

"Why are you so painfully human?" His smile is strange, you can't say you have ever seen him like this before, it's a strange mix of happiness and resignation. "Your heart is so- prefect do you trust me?"

"Yes." You answer, seemingly confused as if your answer to that question shouldn't have been something he doubted.

"Would you trust me with your life? Your secrets?" He makes his way out from behind his desk to stand above you, to look down at you and confirm that for some damnable reason you are still calm. "Would you trust me with your life?"

"...only if you wanted it." Finally he sees a trace of fluster in you, finally you feel as nervous around him as he does around you constantly. He places a finger under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Then tell me how you feel about me truthfully. Because everything you have said and done up to this point has been driving me crazy into thinking I have a chance." You blink. Once. Twice. And then a look of pure confusion distorts your perfect face.

"You- you don't know? But I thought- I mean you said-" And then suddenly Yuu has managed to jump out from the couch and the intensity of the moment stutters closer to comedy as Azul watches you curl under his desk like it's an octopot. "You said the moon was beautiful."

It's Azul's turn to blink. Once. Twice. He feels like he should be holding back tears, or disappointed in some way but- "I did say that... but what does that have to do with, anything?" You don't move and Azul considers his options, and decides to walk slowly to his desk and pick up the pudding before settling himself just out of sight from where you are hiding. And he waits, he waits for you to speak like his hands aren't clammy and he is not worried at all about what you might have to say.

"In my world when you say that it means something." You sound so small and alone, but still he waits. "I was really happy to hear you say it, but I didn't think... no I just didn't think. I'm so so so sorry."

"What did you think I said?" His mind is racing with the possibilities, but he has an idea because really what else could he have said that would explain all of this behavior?

"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing." You sound close to tears and Azul can't have that now can he? He crouches down to look at you curled under his desk and thinks that Floyd must have been wrong when he called you a shrimp, how could you be anything other than another octopus, waiting for someone who understood them too?

"As embarrassing as saying it again?" He doesn't wait for you to reply. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." He watches your breath hitch in delight as he fully invades your space and whispers what it looks like he should have just said all along. "I love you."

And gets to hear the one thing he has wanted most. "I love you too."

Jade

What He Says:

"And that is the Hero constellation." Jade makes sure to keep his hand as close to you as plausible, resting the back of it against yours as he uses his pencil to point at the star chart you are examining to avoid having to move it away from your addictive warmth. He delights in the way you try to suppress your shudders yet make no move to shake him off, what a dangerous game it is you have decided to play tonight. "Named after the Hero who dove into the underworld to fetch back his beloved from death itself."

"It looks familiar." You swallow and try to focus on the stars, Jade had been kind enough to offer you some "opinions" (because help would cost you and he has no intention to charge yet) when he saw you struggling to read your astrology homework. "But I don't think it was as important to astrology back in my world..."

"Oya? Your world also values the guidance of the stars?" Jade is always hard to read, but even more so in the dark. Something to do with his natural habitat you suppose, not that you are excited about the potential he sees you as some sort of prey. Not that you couldn't be if you knew just what sort.

"Well yeah sometimes. But I think it has more to do with the zodiac constellations and the position of the planets." You smile and hope this little bit of information is enough for Jade to take as payment instead of a favor but he simply hums.

"Yes I do seem to recall you saying something like that." He says with a smile and you desperately wrack your brain for how he could know that when you know damn well it wasn't to him.

You were only sort of right, he had been there, just out of sight listening intently as you described the differences in the mythological origins of the various signs and their importance in match making.

"Only in some cultures Ace!"

But you had made no mention of whether or not that culture was yours, which was all Jade really cared about. Not that he placed much interest or faith in the stars but if you did that was important data. But no matter how carefully he tried to poke the only thing you ever seemed to really like talking about was the moon. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." Jade says, bitterly, head full with ideas that he wants to give but cannot without overplaying his hand. And yet-

"Do you mean that?" He turns his head abruptly, blinking in confusion down at your flustered self. Jade knows right away that he has said something without meaning to, your reaction screams it but just this once- no he is always selfish when it comes to you. So in keeping with his habits, he drops the pencil and folds his hand around yours properly.

"Every word." It is all he can do to keep his teeth from showing as he watches you fold into him. Normally when Jade offers to walk you home you make up an excuse or outright decline, but when he offers tonight you are happy to accept. You even let him help you pick up your things and when he decides to push his luck and ask for your hand-

You let him take it. His brain is fried, the only thing he can think of and feel is the texture of your skin and the weight of your fingers intertwined with his. Neither of you speak on the way back to Ramshackle, Jade barely hears himself whispering you a goodnight as he swears you stare at his lips in the same way he always dreams of yours.

His mind works overtime as he walks back to his dorm, thinking and re-thinking his words and wondering if he has reached the right conclusion. Data, he needs more data on this change. You have let him get close to what he wants in moments of weakness before, but you have never let him touch and as much as he wants to throw himself into you and be consumed with his assumptions...

When He Breaks (3 months later):

He is long past collecting data at this point, he is just being a coward. Jade is fairly certain that Yuu is courting him... but that pesky doubt keeps creeping back in the longer he looks at them. Not that Jade is unfamiliar with doubting himself, or waiting to strike but you...

"Are you alright, Jade?" You're laid across his lap without a care in the world watching that damn moon again, completely unaware of him unraveling beneath you. "You've been spacing out a lot lately."

"I've just had a lot on my mind~" He caresses the side of your face and you let him, you even whine a bit when he retracts it and speed up his heart rate just enough to make him hyper conscious of his breaths. "Can I ask you something?"

"Technically you already have." You squirm to try and dodge his flick but don't seem too fussed by it. "But sure, what's bothering you?"

"Do you hate me?"

"What?" Oh that look of shock on your face is precious he hasn't seen it in a while. Slowly, giving you just enough space to run if you want Jade bends towards you, smiling wide and tootful as he repeats the question.

"I was wondering if you hate me dear Prefect. Because you see," he sniffles and tries to pretend he doesn't hear you groan in exasperation "our relationship these past few months has been nothing but pure torture for my poor self."

"Oh has it now." You don't sound like you believe him how tragic. "I didn't realize I was such bad company."

"Oh the worst sort." He whimpers. "The sort of company that takes advantage of the thin lines between you and does all sort of things to your poor heart."

"... thin lines?" Finally. FINNALY. You sound just as worried as he's been these past three months. He ceases his blubbering and looks at your embarrassed face properly. It's adorable, he'll have to ask for your forgiveness later for his lengthy pause admiring it later.

"Please be truthful." He whispers just a tad lower than is necessary. "And be gentle with me in your rejections so I can move on if I must but first-"

"We're not dating?!?!?" How rude you don't let him finish before you interrupt and try to run away. His long arms interrupt your retreat, pulling you down with peels of laughter (from him it's clear you don't find this funny) as he rolls you onto the grass, pinned directly beneath him. You look good like this, eyes focused entirely on him and no longer pining after the moon.

"There seems to have been a misunderstanding." He says and you try your best to glare threateningly up at him. "I can't quite remember anything I might have done to make you think we were together. Was it something I said?"

"You said... I'm so stupid."

"I don't seem to recall ever having said that outloud." You try to knee him in the groin but he pins your leg down with his own, such useful things though a tail would have made this entire confrontation much more efficient.

"Of course it doesn't mean the same thing. This is a different world." You look genuinely distraught, and though Jade doesn't regret his teasing one bit he doesn't want to keep you in suspense much longer. So he bends his face directly next to your ear and whispers.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Your breath hitches and Jade rolls to his side, pulling you up onto his chest before you can go back to being angry at him. "You're right, it doesn't mean whatever you think it should here. After all if I wanted to say how I feel about you I wouldn't use a metaphor."

"And just what would you say about me?" You sound so impossibly small, just as in need of reassurance as he had been just mere moments ago.

"I would say that I love you, of course." It's hard to say out loud, but worth the reward of your warmth settling into him once more, with clarity this time and no need for cowardice.

Floyd

What He Says:

Floyd has been in a strange mood lately, not quite bad, not quite good, and yet somehow very clearly not somewhere in between either. Reflective is the word you would choose yourself, but no one is really asking your opinion they just want you to fix it.

Not that you have any real clue how you are going to do that, you will be the first to admit you didn't have much of a plan when you asked if Floyd wanted to climb up to Ramshackle's roof and shoot the breeze. Not that you are really complaining it had been funny watching him try to figure out the climb.

"I though you were supposed to be good at this." You laugh from your perch waving a bag of flavored potato chips in encouragement as Floyd snorts just below you.

"I'm real good at parkour, just haven't really climbed trees before. I ain't a monkey fish." Still he manages to hoist himself up just fine and plop himself next to you with a thud that reminds you of just how much weight there is to him. He's tall and lean, his figure seems to go on forever as he stretches himself out next to you, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a breath and holds out a hand for a chip.

You stuff it into his mouth and try not to laugh too hard when he chokes. He spits some of the chip shards back at you and tries not to smile too wide when you sputter and whine about how gross he is for spitting on you.

"Ya do this a lot back home?" It's not the first time Floyd has asked about your world, but it is certainly the most random.

"We've got stars in my world too." You snort, trying to think about just how you are going to turn this conversation around into something more cheerful. "But nah, pretty sure someone would have called the cops if they caught me on the roof at 2 am." Floyd rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his arm to really look at you as you look through your grocery bag of loot deciding which of the drinks you brought up you want to drink.

"I meant invite people to hang out real late." You stop your search to look down at him and find your words caught somewhere between your heart and your throat. Not like this. You want to say. Not for this reason. But instead you shrug and try to offer a bottle he doesn't take. You aren't avoiding the question tonight. "Ya gotta have done something for fun, right?"

"Sometimes I'd walk around a store or something." It's weird explaining stuff to a merman, sometimes they get what you're trying to say but other times they come back with "so it's like that time Jade and I got caught chasing a dolphin around the school playground and got yelled at for tying him up in seaweed" and you just have to smile and say "yeah totally" because what the hell. You're pretty sure it's not but you lack all sorts of context to try and make him understand. "Or we'd sneak out and just drive around and talk about stuff. There's- not a bunch of exciting things I know how to do I guess." If this was a normal night Floyd would roll his eyes and lie back down, whine about that's why you always make him do all the work because shrimpies have shit for brains and his plans are always so much better.

But he doesn't. He reaches over and tugs on your leg, gently enough that you can run away if you want but clear in his desire to have you closer. So you move, expecting his hand to drop but it doesn't, not until he settles his head in your lap and he physically can't keep it there anymore.

"Ya ever talk about things that matter with those guppies?" Maybe he's homesick and that's why he's so focused on this. "Things that make ya miss them?" Maybe he's just projecting that onto you since he knows you will listen and be nice about it. But then his hand reaches up and turns your head so you can look him in his eyes. They're glowing, you barely realize your own hand going to cup Floyd's cheek before he moves his other to keep it from going. "You ever miss one of em in particular?"

"Not really." How could you when Floyd looks like this? "It'd be nice to see my friends again, sure, but it's not like there's one specific person I miss." Floyd lets out a breath that it sounds like he has been keeping in for a long, long time. His hands both fall to his side as he lets you look away in embarrassment, wiggling in slight happiness when you choose to rest your hands on his shoulders.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Floyd's voice sounds sleepy and oddly content. Your eyes immediately snap back to him, but he isn't looking at you now. There is a a slight red tinge to his ears that makes you laugh quietly as you run a finger over the shell of one. So that's what this is about.

"It's always beautiful with you around Floyd." And finally he is looking at you with a smile.

When He Breaks (2 weeks later):

When you gave Floyd a guest key to Ramshackle he'd been extremely happy. Sure he'd acted like it was no big deal in front of you, beyond a few teasing comments about how buttering him up wouldn't get you anywhere unless you put it in writing. But back at his dorm he had been beyond insufferable, obsessing over just what color thread he should attach to it (purple for the sea witch, teal for the eel, or grey for ramshackle? decisions decisions), wanting to keep it close at all times until he had an excuse to replace it with you.

Because that's what he needed right? An excuse? Floyd wasn't exactly... shy in showering you with his affections but you. You. Until that stupid conversation on the roof a month ago you had always been sort of shy about it, if not outright dismissive. He assumed it was because you just didn't reciprocate but now...

"Floyd?" You can't really remember the last time he knocked, even before you gave him the key he sort of just let himself in. But today he knocked, only once and waited for you to open the door in eerie silence. Even when Floyd was coming over because he was bored he still managed to drag himself through the door or a window if he was so inclined.

So why not today?

"Not having a good day?" You try softly, he walks into your lounge with an eerie quiet about him. The last time you saw him something very nice happened, so you can't exactly say you are too worried but. It still sucks to see someone you care about in distress.

"Kinda." Floyd doesn't look like he had much of a plan now that he's in your dorm. "Had a lot on my mind is all."

"Aw that's no fun." You both stand doing nothing for what feels like an hour but you're sure is only a few seconds. "Do you uh want to talk about it?"

"..." And just like that Floyd feels really silly. He wanted to see you so that's why he came, but he wants to be as far away from these painful feelings as possible. "I kind of want to take a nap."

"Oh?" You don't sound surprised, but are clearly confused. Floyd begins to head towards the guest room without looking back. The guest room feels like you just enough that it can soothe his longing and distance himself from his internal conflict. "Would you like to use my room?" Or he could just not be allowed to distance himself at all because you could just say- "I've got some stuff to do but I can join you af-"

"Are you fucking serious." Floyd's voice is dangerously low and he is dangerously close to your face like you have said something wrong. "Look Shrimpy-" He swallows, like he's really considering what it is he has to say so he breathes and just goes for it "Yuu. You're killin me with this. Humans are already so fucking confusing. I give ya a shell and you get all cold for a week, and now, now you wanna sleep with me?" He pouts at you, like your suggestion had been scandalous. "'s like you think we're together or something."

"... we're not?" That's the only thing you can think to say even though the fact you have to say it answers the question for you.

"No?" Now Floyd sounds confused. "Ya- you can't do this to meeeeeeee." Despite his protests he seems just fine with grabbing onto you and dragging you into an embrace and resting his cheek on your head so you can't see his face anymore. "There's supposed to be a process to these things ya know? I'm supposed to give you gifts, and then you're supposed to give me some back and then I tell you I love you but every time I tried that I said something stupid instead. Like 'oh wow the moon looks beautiful tonight or some shit." He huffs and he puffs and he waits for you to say something. But you don't, you take a deep breath.

And laugh.

"Is this fucking funny to you?" Floyd is taken so a back he lets go of you only to find you laughing harder. You stand and reach to cup his face. Floyd doesn't like being squeezed, but there's something about the light squish you give to his cheeks that he likes, he likes a lot.

"No- well maybe a little bit. It's just, I knew. I knew what you were trying to say." Yuu says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world, like it's something Floyd should have known all along. "I owe you an apology, I should have asked, made sure you knew. In my world, it's sometimes considered too forward to say 'I love you' so instead..." You close the distance between you once more, leaving just enough room that Floyd can back away from you if he wants, "instead we say 'the moon looks beautiful tonight.'" Floyd takes in a deep, deep breath and you wait. The anger and frustration slowly fades as he exhales, shoulders sagging as he searches your face for signs.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." He says it slowly, voice dipping low with the same strange gravity it had the first time he said it.

"It does, doesn't it?" You smile, and Floyd finally reaches for you, arms wrapped much more loosely than you ever thought possible.

"You're really mean sometimes ya know that." As if he doesn't find that attractive.

Kalim

What He Says:

Sometimes you worry about Kalim. He has this way of talking about things that, if it had been anyone else who said it, should be a major cause for concern. But because Kalim seems relatively happy most all of the time and has a family with a bunch of money no one really makes much of a fuss about it.

So when he says, off handedly, completely as a joke, that you should listen to his worries sometimes you don't give him a chance to play it off. You sit up from where you had been lying down in the Scarabia Lounge and move just a bit closer to where Kalim is relaxing so he can see how serious you are.

"Of course you can talk to me if you have worries." Your voice must have been abnormally serious because Kalim doesn't respond immediately. At first you wonder if the noise of the party behind you had somehow drowned out what you said but then you see Kalim's face. He looks conflicted, as if there is something he desperately wants to say, but instead he looks at you with a smile.

"I don't really have any." But he doesn't laugh when he says it, not that he sounds unhappy exactly just thoughtful. He doesn't move away from you either.

"Even if it's something you think might be silly," you say slowly forcing yourself to continue even as Kalim looks away "of if you're able to dismiss them. If something makes you sad for even a moment, you can tell me. I won't offer my opinion if that's not something you want, or won't help, I can still listen."

"You're really insistent about this huh?" Kalim sits up now too and you turn to look up at the stars decorating Scarabia's night sky. You wonder briefly about how exactly they might have gotten that to work when he says it. "The moon is beautiful tonight." He sounds so wistful but it's gone in a blink as he reaches for your hand and doesn't let you respond to his admission. "C'mon! Let's take the magic carpet and get a better look." You try to contain your excitement as he lets you lace your fingers together and doesn't even try to let go.

What He Breaks (1 week later):

Technically, Kalim isn't the one who breaks. He notices, of course he notices, the way you are more comfortable in seeking him out. How comfortable you now are with his casual touches, how willing you are to hold his hand and even give it a little squeeze. It's heaven, like he found the treasure cave the Sorcerer of the Sands had searched so long for. If it was up to him he would have let it go a little longer.

But it isn't exactly up to him, it never is. Not that Jamil looks angry exactly, but then again as Kalim has come to accept he's not the best at reading his moods.

"I thought you said you weren't going to ask Yuu out?" No Jamil sounds confused and Kalim fidgets with his bracelet under his questioning stare because he knows what he's about to say will probably actually make him mad.

"I didn't." Jamil takes a deep breath and Kalim immediately waves his hands to try and soothe him. "Promise! I remember everything you said about wanting to know and I agree it's just... are you sure you aren't misreading things? That Yuu isn't just... comfortable around me now?"

"... it's always a possibility given just how weird the prefect can be, but no. I'm pretty sure you must have said something that's given them the wrong impression." Jamil sighs and rubs his chin thoughtfully. "It's going to be awkward, but you should probably clear things up with them and tell them how you really feel."

"You mean tell them I'm not allowed to-"

"Like I said before," Jamil actually smiles now, and Kalim really hopes it's real "it's not my place to tell you who you can and cannot date. Sure your parents might have an idea about what they want you to do, but you and I know that a political marrige would never really work for you. It's just not how you're built." And with that he leaves Kalim to his thoughts.

~~~~

"Have you ever considered throwing smaller parties?"

"Haha this is a smaller party~ I only invited you and your freshmen friends." So Kalim says and so you see, but you suppose everything Kalim does comes from a rather skewed sense of small. It's nice to look out on though, Ace is amusing one of your other classmates with his card tricks while Jack and Deuce take turns at arm wrestling. Epel even manged to get Sebek to participate in something, though he might have regretted making it an eating contest. And above it all, tucked away in a little alcove, Kalim rests his head on your shoulder and hums along with the music playing through his dormitory loudspeakers. It feels domestic in a way despite the grandiose display around you.

"It's very nice Kalim." You lean your head on top of his and he sighs in contentment. "But you said there was a worry you wanted to tell me about?"

"Mhm. I'm worried I said something accidentally that made you realize that I liked you." If he wasn't holding you so intimately his words would have been like ice water over your self confidence. You still cringe and Kalim laughs slightly, happily holding you just a bit closer. "Hey I didn't say that I don't like you, I just want to make sure you understand what that means. I could put you in a lot of danger you know?"

"More than half a dozen overblots?" You lightly joke but Kalim just hugs you a little harder at the thought. "We'll cross those bridges when we come to them, it doesn't make me love you any less. After all," you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and smile as he shakes in happiness "the moon looks beautiful tonight." Kalim gives a little gasp.

"Oh that's a wonderful way to say it!"

Jamil

What He Says:

"I get that your world is a bit behind ours because it doesn't have magic, but really?" Jamil's voice lacks the usual venom that would accompany his teasing if he hadn't been the one to propose this idea. "Wanting to make a mix tape has got to make you practically per-historic." You try to suppress your own smile as you watch him work from across the floor.

"I prefer vintage." Your smile breaks free as Jamil finally laughs, you wonder if he knows just how beautiful he is as he swipes a misbehaving hair out of his eyes and gives his stereo another once over. "I'll have you know making mixtapes have a long and storied tradition in my world." You keep some of the possible implications to yourself, and try to pretend the concept hasn't been swirling around in you brain since he first suggested this. "Why aren't you using magic to clean it?"

"Because I get to keep you here longer." The words dance on the tip of his tongue and he forces them away with a smile.

"It's old, and I don't really want to go searching for a new one if I break something." The lie has just enough of a trace of truth to fool you, but Jamil isn't one for taking chances. "Aren't you supposed to be looking for stuff you like? You won't get that by staring at me."

"Not like I'm going to find anything till your done cleaning." You snort and finally take your distracting eyes away from him and direct them to his tapes. "I don't know any of this stuff." But you can still tell this collection is pretty impressive. Some of the tapes look newer, but there are others that while well cared for are clearly old. Album art featuring sandy landscapes and people posing is sandwiched between vaporwave cartoons and aesthetically confusing 3-d models. This belongs to Jamil so you have a feeling it's organized, but you can't tell how. Not that he leaves you wondering for long lightly taps your nose with a new cotton swab and nudges your pouting face towards a specific section of the box.

"Here, I set some aside based off the kind of music you said you liked." And some that just reminded him of you, but that's nothing you need to know, yet if ever. "Anything else you can think of?"

"Do you have any songs about the moon?" The question pops out of your mouth before the thought that birthed it is fully formed, making you stumble over your explanations. "Yeah go ahead and laugh there's just... this one song I miss." It makes you think of him, from the few words you can remember. You've written it down again and again to try and make sure you don't forget them, but the tune has begun escaping you; much like all your memories of home will one day be fragmented, not that the reality makes it hurt any less. "I'm worried I'll forget what my moon looks like." Jamil's amused confusion remains, but his eyes soften in response to your distress.

"Is there a specific reason you need the song? Yo- The moon is beautiful tonight, do you need the exact song to see it?" Jami

"N-no." Your voice shakes. Neither of you move to look away, what gives you the strength to move yourself to sit next to him you don't know. But he doesn't move away and you let out a deep breath from sheer and relief and joy. "I think I'll be able to see it just fine next to you."

What He Breaks (two months later):

Things have been going missing from Jamil's room lately. Nothing he actually needs really, the sort of little things you would take if you were really desperate to remember the feel of a person. The sort of things you would take if you were dating that person, which isn't at all the thought he would have had if he didn't know who was taking them. Not that Jamil could come up with a reason for Yuu to be taking these things, his first thought had been to take something of Yuu's the next time he visited Ramshackle, but that seemed to make you happy. "Fair game" he'd thought. "I want an excuse to see you and you want an excuse to see me."

Still he wasn't prepared for this.

"Jamil!" there is something refreshing about how calm your happiness is. You've always had a way of extending that calm to him, wrapping him in it and allowing him some space to breathe. But today, today. Today the Ramshackle Prefect has decided that he wasn't allowed peace, because yesterday they had stolen his sweatshirt, and today they have decided to wear it. "Everything ok?

"ha." Jamil wants to tug the hood of his dorm uniform over his head. He wants to run, he wants to shake you, he wants to scream. He wants to do a three act play complete with an interpretive dance because that would be easier than trying to speak. But he has to, because there's only so many deep breaths he can take before you reach out to make sure he's ok. So he takes your hand in his as you do and places it directly over his heart. "You know," for some reason he finds it easier to smile now that you know how nervous he is "you can't have taken that without knowing what people might say."

"Oh I don't know." You smile and bring yourself into his space, that strange calm he finds in your happiness begins to weave itself around him again. "Maybe I wanted to clear some things up. Make it good and clear where I belong." Jamil takes another deep breath, your arms go around him and he makes sure to look long and good into your eyes to make sure there isn't a shred of a crimson glow. That this is something you have decided of your own free will and not a dream or an accident involving magic.

"I never properly asked you out..." Technically he never asked you out at all, but Jamil would rather die than say that out loud. Maybe sometime long long in the future when he's ready to laugh at it and not now when he needs you to confirm that's what you thought he did in the first place.

"Oh! That's not-" You bury your face in his chest with a light laugh and he tries not to die in the time between the seconds until you respond. "I was so happy to hear you say the moon line it didn't really occur to me you might be worried about that."

"Who wouldn't?" Not that he's worried now, every other possibility has been ruled out so he can say exactly what he's been wanting to for so long. "Will you be mine?"

"I already was." It sounds so much better outloud than he could have ever dreamed.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #“Or not please not actually” did something to my brain #such a nice way of phrasing that ur mind

699 notes · View notes

h4ndwr1tten · 9 months

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — i'm so sorry this came out so late. if you didn't see my other posts, i mentioned that i basically rewrote this bc the original was so bad, and then i went on vacation. it's still kinda bad i'm sorry. dividers by benkeibear.

cw — not proofread (is anything i write even proofread?), established relationship, kinda ooc nanami, pregnancy, few mentions of sex, mentions of birth control, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, a lot of crying, sappy shit, angst, hurt/comfort. lmk if i missed any!

synopsis — after a hellish week caused by a misunderstanding and sickening fear, you decide you'd had enough of not speaking to your boyfriend and reveal your secret.

part 1 | part 2

for the past week, you've noticed that nanami had been taking on longer shifts than normal. in fact, it wasn't normal, because if there was one thing he absolutely hated in this world, it was working overtime. he'd leave for the school early, sometimes before you'd wake up, and come home past dinner or when you were already in bed. what was even more surprising (and hurtful) to you was that he was taking more time out of his day to put up with gojo satoru and his antics, rather than be around you.

you knew he was avoiding you. it was quite obvious, and nanami made no effort to hide it either. during the now short amounts of time he was home, he barely spoke and looked at you. this must have been what it felt like to him on that night, you realized.

you also knew that nanami would come around and talk to you. or, at least, you hoped he would. you knew him like no other—your boyfriend was a rational man who always thought things carefully and through. you convinced yourself that he was still upset and in need of space to think about that night, and maybe even what you were up to during that. maybe he was thinking of the possibility of you seeing someone else, having feelings for someone who wasn't him. by letting him ignoring you, you believed you were giving him the time and space he needed.

throughout the week, your pregnancy symptoms had become more prominent. you also found out that your birth control expired, which explained why you had gotten pregnant. you felt stupid for not checking the date. you began experiencing morning sickness, strange cravings, fatigue, even mood swings. but nanami wasn't there to see it happen. he'd already be at the school when you would be hunched over the toilet. he'd be on his lunch break while you'd be eating ice cream topped with pickles. you would be asleep half the time he was gone, which would help prevent the overthinking you faced while you were awake. you would be elated to hear him come home, but then tear up right after when you realized it would be another night without hearing his voice, without feeling his arms around you.

everyday you thought of revealing to him that you were pregnant with his child. and everyday, you thought of how he might be enraged and leave you for good. but despite the stomach churning fear you had, you were desperate to hear him speak to you. desperate to be held and kissed by him, to be looked at as if you were the most ethereal being in the world. you were desperate to hear nanami tell you he loves you, and always will.

after long thought and contemplation, debating with yourself about whether to confess or not, you came to a conclusion. you had had enough of this distance between you and the man you loved. tonight, when he came home, you were going to tell him the truth.

you were exhausted. you felt like if you blinked once, your eyes wouldn't open for another 9 hours. but you had to stay up. you were waiting on nanami to walk through the door.

and luckily for you, he did. you heard the faint click of the lock followed by soft footsteps padding into the kitchen, where you were waiting with a plate of food for him.

nanami took one brief glance at you before looking back down, not bothering to greet you. you inhaled deeply, weakly fighting back tears.

"hi, ken," you started nervously. he didn't reply, but he began to occupy himself with the mail you left out on the counter, telling you that he was listening.

"i made you food," you continued, "but it might be a little cold. i made it earlier but you didn't—"

"i already ate, thank you," nanami cut you off, not meeting your eyes.

"oh."

your heart began to beat erratically, and tears began to flood your eyes. you kept thinking to yourself that he's upset, and for all he knows you might be cheating on him. you reminded yourself why you were doing this, and that you had to push through if you wanted this misunderstanding to end.

"how was your day?" you asked shakily, opening your eyes despite the tears that were still there.

your heart sunk lower when you saw that he was making his way to the bedroom, and you swore it cracked when you hear the barely there "good" and a door shutting.

with your elbows propped on the counter and keeping your trembling frame up, you buried your face in your hands. this went much smoother in your head. you imagined nanami to have accepted the dinner you made him, take a bite of it at the least, and let you talk to him. but he was refusing to let down this cold front he kept up around you. you were beginning to have second thoughts about telling him.

but you couldn't keep hiding it, you knew that. so, wiping away any stray tears and taking a few deep breaths in, you made your way to the bedroom.

you found nanami on the bed, already dressed in his pajamas and hair free of any product. his glasses were set neatly on the nightstand and his phone was in his hand. nanami wasn't the kind of person to be addicted to his phone, and even though you've been going through it for a while now, him not paying you any mind and more attention to his phone was painful.

"ken," you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

without craning his neck, nanami looked up at you with his eyebrow raised. he seemed tired, exasperated, and looked as though he didn't want to talk but just wanted to get it over with.

"can we talk? please?" your voice was thick with emotion, the please coming out softer and cracking.

nanami sighed before tossing his phone onto the bed. he finally, for the first time in days, looked at you and held your gaze expectantly.

"go on."

letting out a breath you didn't know you held in, you began slowly, "i am so... so, so sorry, kento. i know i hurt you and i made you believe that i would see someone else. and i'm not, i promise you. i could never love anyone else the way i love you."

nanami's eyes softened, and you could practically feel the worries of you cheating dissipate from him.

"so what was with you night?" nanami asked, the most he's ever said to you so far.

you almost choked on a sob when you realized what you had to do next.

"o-okay, uh... while you were at work, i found something out," you basically whispered. there was no need for extra details. you were getting straight to the point.

slowly, you turned to the dresser behind you and reached for your purse. your hands shook violently as you dug inside for the piece of plastic that made your life a living hell this past week. as you clutched it tightly in your hand, knuckles whitening, you closed your eyes and tilted your head up. you couldn't control the tears any longer, and the sobs were growing harder to keep down.

"love?"

the name caused a whimper to escape you. you inhaled shakily, trying to reduce your crying before turning around with the test results hidden behind your palm. as you walked towards nanami, you felt as though this was the last time you would ever see him, speak to him, and be around him.

with a quivering hand, you hand him the test.

"i'm so, so sorry," you whisper.

nanami flipped the test over, his eyes scanning every inch of the device. it took him a few seconds to realize what it was, and by the way his eyes widened and expression contorted into one of shock, you knew he had seen the results.

and when he didn't say anything, you swore your heart had actually broken.

"i'm sorry," you repeated through a heavy sob, no longer able to keep in your cries.

you turned around, back faced to nanami as you continued to cry into your hands. the lack of response was a response in itself, you believed. you knew it was over. you knew you were going to have to pack all your things, find somewhere else to stay, and raise this child alone.

that is, until you felt a gentle hand on your waist and a quiet voice behind you say, "y/n, look at me. please."

so you did, hesitantly. you turned back around and peeled your hands away from your tear stained face, but avoided eye contact, or even looking at his face. keeping your head down, you were afraid of what you would see, or of what you would read.

then both hands came to your cheeks, cupping them carefully and tilting your head up. your eyes met his, and instead of finding the anger you were expecting, you found comfort and understanding.

"is it mine?" he asked first, likely to confirm that you hadn't been with anyone else.

"yes," you replied without hesitating. "kento, it's only ever buh—been you."

he nodded, believing you completely. he began wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, even though more would fall every time he wiped at them.

"y/n, why didn't you tell me sooner?" nanami whispered. he wasn't angry with you, however. just a bit hurt and curious.

"because, kento!" your voice coming out steadier than expected. "you have your whole life planned out. you have goals and dreams and you know what you want in life. i couldn't, i can't ruin that for you."

"and i was scared, ken. i was scared that you'd get mad and leave me and that you wouldn't want anything to do with our kid. and—and maybe i'm selfish for not telling you, maybe i'm selfish for hiding something so important, so life changing, and maybe that makes me a bad girlfriend. but i couldn't let you go like that. i love you too much to do that."

nanami now had watery eyes at your confession. despite still feeling a bit upset at the fact that you had kept this from him, he fully understood and didn't hold it against you. and despite already knowing, he even felt elated to hear that you loved him so dearly.

"y/n," he sighed, "i would never, ever get mad at you for this."

you froze, sniffling and looking up at him. the curiosity in your eyes urging him to go on.

"you becoming pregnant wasn't—isn't on you. this was mostly caused by me," nanami said, hoping it would ease and erase the feeling of everything being your fault.

"but i was stupid and didn't realize my birth control was expired," you replied.

"even if, y/n. we both did this, we both had sex, we are both in this together. this is our child."

"i know that, ken," you sighed, hiccuping shortly after.

"then you do know that since this is a result of both our actions, i will be there for you, for us? there is no way in hell i would leave you for getting pregnant, i'm the one who got you pregnant in the first place. yes, this is life changing. yes, i have goals, i have plans for the future—for our future. because every time i think about it, you are there. it doesn't matter if our timing isn't right, it doesn't matter if we aren't married yet. i am extremely confident that one day, i'll put a ring on your finger and we will spend eternities together, with this child. do you understand, y/n, love?"

his ramble was so sweet and so genuine, just as all his other rambles were. no matter the situation, whether you'd be feeling insecure or you both got into an argument, nanami never failed to reassure you and make you feel better. they were waves of relief and comfort, like sudden shelter from pouring rain. like being bundled up in blankets and full of warmth after shivering for so long. like a breath of fresh, cool air after a steamy shower.

like nanami telling you that everything was alright, and no matter how tough the situation felt, he would stand by you.

"yes," you breathed, "i understand."

"good," nanami whispered back.

still holding your face in his hands, he pulled you towards him and planted a lingering kiss on your forehead, and then a peck before removing one hand from your face and down to your hip. nanami squeezed you gently and walked you both to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you into his lap. he slid his arm around your middle, then moved the hand still on your face to the back of your head and gently guided you to the crook of his neck. you wrapped your own arms over his shoulders and squeezed him tight, the way he was doing you. you continued to pour out whatever remaining feelings of sadness and relief, quietly sniffling and whimpering into his neck, all the while nanami would softly rub up and down your back, occasionally patting, combing his fingers through your hair and scalp, and whispering sweet nothings and reassuring affirmations into your ear. leaving sweet kisses around your face, into your hair, on your shoulder.

when your cries died down and all that was left were hiccups, you quietly muttered, "i'm sorry for doubting you and thinking you'd leave."

"shh, don't apologize," nanami assured you. "i understand. i'm sorry i thought you were seeing someone else, and i am truly sorry for giving you the cold shoulder and not talking things out with you like an adult. i was hurt and afraid to face the truth, but i realize i was wrong. do you forgive me?"

pulling away from his neck, you looked into his sincere amber eyes, cupping his cheeks. nodding, you answered, "of course."

a small smile graced his lips, followed by a gentle kiss on yours. pulling away, you tilted your head down and rested your forehead on his. both of your eyes shut, your arms squeezing each other in silent reassurance.

"i love you, y/n, and our baby, and this future we're creating together."

m. list

#TRASHHH #i'm sorry this took forever #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #nanami angst #nanami kento angst #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

1K notes · View notes

moongothic · 3 months

Text

When people talk about there being "evidence" for the theory that Crocodile could be Luffy's other bio-dad, they tend to point out these kind surface-level details, easter eggs and Crocodile's odd behaviour during the Marineford-arc. And while all of that is very important as it lays down the groundwork for explaining the theory to people, unironically I think there's even more to the theory. When you really think about the implications the theory has on Crocodile's character and how that would tie into the long running narrative elements and themes in One Piece as a whole, I think it kind of changes everything

So, in this post I want to analyze and speculate about the theory, going a bit "beyond" the basics we already know. Heavy emphasis on the speculation-part, because I'm not here to provide conclusive evidence to prove that Crocodad is Real, rather, I'm here to speculate about how it could be real in practise, and try to explain how so many things would suddenly add up if the theory was true. I'm here to prove that Crocodad would make sense on a narrative level.

Quickly starting with a brief-ish summary of the Basic Thesis of the Crocodad Theory, just so we're all on the same page:

Naturally, if you already know the basics, feel free to skip this bit

Crocodile has secret beef with Ivankov. Although there is no proof that the beef has anything to do with Crocodile being trans, when you go out of your way to introduce a new character whose power is Magic HRT, it's a natural conclusion for people to assume that if these two know each other, then Crocodile could be a trans man. And naturally, if we're assuming he's Luffy's other dad, then he has to be trans

Dragon, as the leader of the Revolutionary Army, is in canon considdered to be the world's Most Wanted Criminal. He is extremely famous as pretty much everyone (except Luffy) knows who he is

Crocodile knowing the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army doesn't inherently mean he was involved with the Revolutionaries, nor that he has ever met Dragon, but being familiar with Ivankov means it is entirely plausible the two could've met in the past

(Sidenote but I do have a loose theory how Crocodile could've been involved with the Revolutionaries; not relevant here but if you wanted to read it, here you go)

Despite this, when Dragon is revealed to be Luffy's father during the Summit War, although Oda includes the reactions of all the other Shichibukai, he very specifically leaves out Crocodile's reaction to the revelation. This is suspicious as hell, because surely, between his ties with Ivankov and Dragon being world famous, he would've had some thoughts about Luffy being Dragon's son (wrote about this in more depth)

For Crocodad to be real, we are assuming that Crocodile did not know Luffy was Dragon's/his son until Sengoku's announcement during Marineford, this being the reason Oda didn't show that reaction; it would've been too revealing

(We are assuming that Dragon never told Crocodile his name; this is entirely plausible considdering his full name had been a secret to the whole world (as explained post-Enies Lobby), and Dragon had kept the existence of his son a secret even from Ivankov and Kuma. We also need to assume that Crocodile did not name his son, otherwise surely he would have realized Luffy was his son when they met in Alabasta)

This is why Crocodile ends up saving Luffy's life twice in Marineford (as well as Ace's) when until the revelation he had no reason to even care about the idiot

Crocodile choosing to save Luffy's life probably means one of two things; either he really hates the World Government more than the child who foiled his plans to take over Alabasta, or he cares about his son despite knowing Luffy hates his guts

Again, this is just the basic concept, if you want to read more and see all the more easter egg-type hints, I'd reccomend this post, this post and this post (the third one repeats most of the stuff the first two do in but less detail, but also adds a few more notes extra notes). But now that we're generally speaking on the same level, we can delve deeper.

Please, go get yourself a drink and maybe a snack, this is gonna get long and deranged

Going to start with a fairly small thing.

Through out the series Oda has been repeatedly hinting at Crocodile having A Past, some History, A Backstory that lead to him becoming the way he is. But Oda hasn't actually told us what that backstory is. On the surface, this wouldn't be that strange, after all, there's lots of characters whose backstories we haven't seen, for example Mihawk. We know essentially nothing about that man and how he became the way he is. But what's different about Crocodile as opposed to Mihawk and many others, is that Oda hasn't hinted at there being an interesting backstory there that's worth telling. Like I'm sure Mihawk could have an interesting story, but Oda hasn't alluded to that at all. So the fact that he has repeatedly told us that Crocodile does have a backstory, but at most gave us two whole breadcrumbs in an SBS, is a little suspicious. (For clarity, the hints we've gotten so far to Crocodile's backstory were his repeated comments about not trusting people and how he had given up his dreams in Alabasta, while Summit War gave us the Secret Beef with Ivankov and his grudge against Whitebeard. In an SBS in Vol 78, Oda did confirm that Crocodile had his ass kicked by Whitebeard after he became a Warlord in his early 20s, and that he went "quiet for a while" until he started his heroics around his 30s, setting his eyes on Alabasta. Indeed, we have some breadcrumbs of lore, but this hardly paints a full picture. We know nothing abot what he was doing in his late 20s, which would've been the time Luffy was born btw)

What I'm getting at, is that Crocodile clearly has a backstory, but the fact that Oda hasn't spilled the beans yet would indicate to me that it's likely Oda has been saving up that backstory. Which would make sense, Crocodile hasn't been in a role in the story yet where spending time to tell his story would've been appropriate. So really, we're just waiting for the right time for those beans to be finally spilled. But what makes things even more interesting is that One Piece has a very specific track record of not giving its villians extended and dedicated backstories/flashbacks. Villians can cameo in other characters' flashbacks (Moria, Arlong), they can have their own little segments inside the the heroic characters' flashbacks (Orochi, Doflamingo), they might even get their own SHORT dedicated flashbacks (Lucci whose flashback was 6 whole panels long). But villians do not get their OWN, dedicated and EXTENDED flashbacks. Flashbacks are for the heroic characters. There has been a single exception to this rule and that was Big Mom. That's it. And while I'm positive this rule is going to be broken at least one more time before the series ends, really. What do you think is more likely to happen? That Crocodile becomes such an important villian again, this late in the game, that he deserves his own flashback so we can finally find out what his deal is? (When Blackbeard and Imu are also there mind you) Or that Crocodile's role in the story might not be that of a villian anymore, and that Oda had been saving up his backstory all this time because it could reframe his entire character and how we view him?

Oda loves taking inspiration from various mythologies and pop culture alike to bring life into his work.

This is nothing new or surprising, we all know this. For example, Oda did base the original seven Shichibukai on the Seven Heroes from Romancing SaGa 2, each Warlord more or less matching a description of one of the game's villians. Crocodile just happens to match Wagnas, the queer coded leader of the group, who had the noble swordsman Noel (Mihawk) by his side when the group was created to save the world from a great evil. Meanwhile Alabasta as a whole took a lot of inspiration of Egyptian mythology, Crocodile in that arc matching the role of the crocodile-god Sobek. Sobek is a protector god ("Guardian of Alabasta"), associated with military power (literally what Crocodile wanted to obtain) and fertility, carrying the epithet of "he who loves robbery" (man stole a lot of things, from money and lives to rain and nearly a whole dang country). Sobek's name is speculated to come from the words "to impregnate" or "to unite", both being potentially very interesting coincidences (depending on if Crocodad Real and what Cross Guild's purpose in the story is going to be) (if you want more details you can go read the Wikipedia article on Sobek). (Also I'm sure there's something interesting to be said about Sobek's fusion with the sun deity Ra, Sobek-Ra, and how Luffy is our lil Sun God)

The reason I'm pointing this out is that based on Oda's hinting and/or references to mythologies, people have in the past been able to predict certain plot twists and reveals way ahead of time. For example, most recently people were able to predict that Saint Saturn had been the one to give Ginny (and by extension, Bonney) the Sapphire Scale-disease based on a certain legent about ushi-oni, which is what Saturn just happens to be. (Here's one of the many Reddit posts that predicted that reveal) And there is one particular story from Japanese mythology I want to bring up, as it may be relevant to our Crocodad Discussion here. The story of Toyotama Hime. Here's a quick TL:DR;

Princess Toyotama had travelled from the depths of the ocean onto land so she could give birth to her child. When the time to deliver the baby came, Toyotama asked for her husband, Hoori, to not look at her while she gave birth, as she would change into her true form. And while Hoori promised he wouldn't look, he couldn't keep the promise. He peeked in on her wife as she was giving birth, only to discover that she had transformed into a gigantic wani. Horrified by what he had seen, Hoori fled, leaving his wife and child behind. Hurt by what had happened, Toyotama abandoned her son and returned to the ocean. (You can read different summaries of the legend on the Wani-article as well as Toyotama's article on Wikipedia)

Now historically speaking, "wani" in mythology can have referred to serpent dragons, sharks or sea monsters. But in modern Japanese, the word translates to "crocodile". It's what Luffy and a few other characters call Crocodile on numerous occassions. Hell, Crocodile's favorite pets are his gigantic bananawani. Historically speaking it might be more accurate to say that Toyotama had transformed into a sea serpent, but for our intents and purposes, Hoori abandoned Toyotama after she became a crocodile.

I can not tell you what exactly the relationship between Dragon and Crocodile was like, how it began and how it ended. There's no way for us to know when Crocodile transitioned (beyond "after giving birth to Luffy"), nor do we know how Dragon found out about it and how he reacted to it. There's a million options for how things could've gone down, and nothing to truly go off of to even make a guess. All we do really know, is that 1) Dragon does not seem to wear rings at all. 2) Crocodile wears rings, but leaves one out specifically on his ring finger, where one would normally wear their engagement/wedding ring (mind you; for the first half of Alabasta Oda drew Crocodile without a ring on his middle finger, but from the latter half onwards, through Impel Down and Marineford, it's always the ring finger). 3) This suspicious ass comment

"I don't know they have kids or not" YEAH RIGHT

If we wanted to use the story of Toyotama Princess as a jumping off-point though. It's entirely plausible that soon after giving birth Crocodile transitioned thanks to Ivankov's ability, and because Dragon wasn't into it, the two broke up/got divorced. The unfortunate reality is that many couples end up breaking up if/when a partner comes out as trans and chooses to transition. Just like Hoori abandoned his wife because she turned into a crocodile, Dragon could've divorced Crocodile because he transitioned into a man. And Dragon would not be a bad person for it (as long as he was respectful about it). If Dragon is straight and just couldn't see himself being with a man, that's just how it is. At the same time, this would be a gut wrenching, painful thing to go through, and this kind of heartbreak could have devastating concequences for Crocodile's character. Concequences that could play deeply into One Piece's long running narrative elements, which is why a lot of my speculation from here on does end up relying on the Toyotama Myth possibly being inspiration for Crocodile's secret backstory. I acknowledge there's no quarantee that's the case, but I am here to make an argument for why it could be.

QUICK SIDENOTES

As mentioned before, although Ivankov holds the key to a weakness Crocodile has (in their own words), we don't know what that weakness is.

Crocodile joined the Shichibukai in the first half of his 20s (SBS vol 78), and he would've been 27 years old when Luffy was born. This means it's nearly impossible for Crocodile to be stealth trans, as he would've been a public figure for years; which means, Crocodile could be openly trans

A single earring on the right ear can be read as a "gay earring". The man does like his jewelry, so there's no proof he's signaling that he's gay, but if Crocodile's happy to let the world know he's into men, then surely there'd be no issue with him being openly trans either

His transition would've happened 17 years ago pre-timeskip, so in-universe it'd be old ass news and not worth bringing up to the readers if it doesn't add anything to the current plot or his character (which it wouldn't have during Alabasta nor Summit War)

If Crocodile's secret weakness wasn't him being stealth trans, and Ivankov can't detransition him against his will (can't hit Crocodile without Armanent Haki), then what is that secret weakness Ivankov knows about?

As Dragon told Kuma: "A child is a parent's weakness". If Ivakov was anywhere near Crocodile when his child was born (so that Crocodile was able to transition as soon as the kid was out) Ivankov could/should know about the child existing, and would thus be able to blackmail Crocodile by holding the information of his secret child hostage

However, Ivankov did not know about Dragon having a child

Meaning if Crocodile and Dragon were in a relationship, it must have happened in secret, otherwise Ivankov should've realized Crocodile gave birth to Dragon's child

So One Piece has a lot of narrative elements that come up time and time again through out the story,

And some of these have become more and more relevant in the story especially post-timeskip. This is not a comprehensive list of all of them, just the ones that could heavily tie into Crocodile if he were Luffy's other dad, as they could reframe his character. So, let's look at these narrative elements, how they've appeared in the story so far, and speculate how they could reflect in Crocodile.

🐊 People existing in the wrong bodies / bodies that have been altered (and what it means for you to be "you"/how does your body reflect who is on the inside) 🐊 Queerness

Wrote about this more in-depth in this post, but to keep things short; Thriller Bark, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa and Wano all heavily featured characters who have had their bodies either temporarily or permanently altered, sometimes with the person's consent and sometimes without it. Not to mention all the various characters through out the series who have gone through similar things, like Franky, Kuma as well as Brook, among countless others. As well as every Devil Fruit user who can transform their body (including every single Zoan user). People, the way they inhibit their bodies and the freedom to be who you are is very important to One Piece. That is already a very queer-coded narrative, but then we also have explicitly queer characters. Queer characters, who have been deeply important to the story, and whose presence has become more and more prevalent with time. Not to mention how queerness in general has been "escalating" over the course of the story. There's this video from Berry for A Thought on YouTube which explains this more in-depth, but to summarize the most important observation from the video; we have slowly gone from Kuina wishing she had been born a man, to non-binary drag queens (first one being able to temporarily change their own bio-sex by turning into someone else, to the second one being able to change anyone's bio-sex permanently), to two pre-transition transgender characters. All we really need for this escalation to reach its "peak" is if we had a (named, non-background) transgender character who has already transitioned. Unsurprisingly, Crocodile could fill that role really nicely.

🐊 Loneliness

Loneliness is generally speaking a very important theme in One Piece, as it's on the opposite side of coin with friendship on it. So many of our main characters have suffered for years from loneliness, by being ostracized and rejected by their communities, abandoned by their families, sometimes suffering for decades for the sake of their loved ones because they had promises to keep. Luffy himself considders loneliness to be most painful, scary thing imaginable.

Loneliness is something queer people struggle with. A lot. Being rejected by your loved ones for who you are is a painful, common experience for many. It alone can keep many queer people in the closet for years and decades, because the fear of being left alone and abandoned is too much to bear. Some people are accepting of queers but only as long as they stay "over there", pulling a full 180 when a family member comes out. Some people only ""accept"" trans people as long as they don't transition. And while some people may appear to be accepting of you when you come out or are early into your transition, many (trans men especially) lose friends and support the more they start to pass. Crocodile does not trust people. He set up base in Alabasta sometime around the age of 30, meaning he spent around 14 years by himself (until he recruited Robin), unable to trust anyone. That's a long time to be alone. Of course, there may have been a practical side to why Crocodile chose to spend over a decade in utter emotional solitude. If he was scheming to take over a country, then having anybody close who could leak his plans out and foil them would be dangerous. Hell, it's exactly what happened thanks to Robin. But having your significant other destroy your ability to trust people and then isolating yourself to avoid further heartbreak and "betrayal" could be another, potential reasoning as to why Crocodile chose solitude.

🐊 Two failed weddings and one relationship that never was

In Thriller Bark we witnessed Nami almost get married off to Absalom. On Whole Cake Island, we almost saw Sanji get married into Big Mom's family. During Egghead arc, we saw how Kuma never got to have the relationship with Ginny he had yearned for deep inside. I already mentioned Crocodile's missing ring. How his relationship with Dragon might not have worked out because of his transition. How Crocodile's queerness could've lead into solitude, out of distrust. We already have three relationships that never worked out. So how about a fourth one.

🐊 What makes a family (/chosen families) 🐊 Family reunions (with blood-relatives) 🐊 What it's like when your blood-relatives are really horrible people

For the first half of the series, One Piece did very much focus on the concept of chosen families, as most of the Strawhats grew up with non-blood relatives that they all considdered just as much family as their actual blood relatives (if not more-so); Luffy with Ace and Sabo, Sanji and Zeff, Nami, Nojiko and Béllemere, Chopper and Hiruluk, Franky and Tom's Workers. Chosen families are deeply important to this story. At the same time, a lot of post-timeskip OP has actually revolved around (blood) family reunions. Punk Hazard was about sending the kidnapped children back to their families (as well as Momonosuke to ""his father"" Kin'emon), Dressrosa was about reuniting all the broken families Doflamingo (and his family) had torn apart. Whole Cake Island was about Sanji reuniting with his blood family while being forced into a whole new one, and Wano allowed Momonosuke to reunite with his sister (and Kin'emon with his wife). On Egghead we've gotten to see the gutwrenching reunion between Bonney and Kuma, and we are all dying to see Luffy meet Dragon eventually. Not to mention all the other reunions many of us are waiting to see, like Shanks and Buggy, Moria and Perona. Luffy and Garp (currently held hostage by Blackbeard), Mihawk and Zoro. And many others. But indeed, not all the family reunions have been good. Sometimes, the blood relatives have been horrible people. Like Big Mom (to some of her children and husbands), Judge and Kaidou. Sometimes, your blood relatives suck ass.

Needless to say, Sir "I tried to bomb one million people to take over a country" Crocodile is not exactly the greatest guy around. But what might be arguably more important is that... Why is Crocodile a plot-relevant character again, on an emotional level? As I mentioned, characters like Buggy and Mihawk relate to certain characters, so potentially getting to see them reunite with other characters would have emotional weight behind it. Mihawk and Buggy are both relevant characters both to the plot but also on an emotional level, their return to the spotlight makes sense. But then we have Crocodile, a fellow member of Cross Guild. Sure, he's definitely there to help move the plot along, no doubt about that. But emotionally speaking, why the hell is he here again? Is there a character he could "reunite with" that would have that same kind of emotional weight behind it? You could argue Vivi perhaps, but between Vivi hating the man's guts and and Crocodile probably not giving a damn about her, I'm not sure that reunion would have that much emotional weight? Robin on the other hand could be very interesting, considdering she did live under Crocodile's protection for four years until she betrayed him, an action that seemed to have stung Crocodile. That reunion could be deeply interesting.

But you know what this post is about. If Crocodile is Luffy's other dad, then those two coming across each other would suddenly have enormous weight on it even if Luffy himself didn't know about it. Because if Luffy were to find out, Luffy would then have to decide if he'd acknowledge Crocodile as his other dad or disown him. Mind you, Crocodile already knows that Luffy hates his guts for what he did in Alabasta, not to even mention the fact that he tried to kill him three whole times. Luffy has every reason in the world to hate Crocodile. The man surely understands that. But then there's the fact that Crocodile isn't Luffy's mom, but his transgender father. If Dragon rejected Crocodile for being trans, why would his son be any different? Which raises the question, would Crocodile be afraid of that? Of meeting Luffy again? Of Luffy somehow finding out and then getting rejected by him too? How does Crocodile feel about any of this? Now of course, we the readers already know that Luffy canonically loves and respects queer people. Luffy would never look down on Crocodile for him being his dad (the warcrimes are different). But Crocodile doesn't know that. And this is what I mean by there being emotional weight on these two reuniting, as anything that could go down between these two could have massive concequences for Crocodile's character. And please, keep in mind, although Oda hasn't dwelled too deep into the subject in One Piece, there are people who aren't accepting of queers in this world.

This prince, and his entire kingdom, could not accept his mother for who she was. An entire country crumbled because their queen came out as trans. So just like there are accepting families (including Kaidou strangely enough), there are unaccepting, queerphobic ones too. So the fear of rejection would not be unfounded. (Also, if Crocodile and Dragon are divorced then those two coming across each other, especially after The Shit Crocodile pulled in Alabasta, would have a lot emotional weight on it too.)

🐊 The things you are willing to do and sacrifice to protect your loved ones

Shanks gave up his arm for Luffy. Zeff ate his leg so Sanji could have actual food. Béllemere died for her daughters while Nami sacrificed her freedom in an attempt to save her village. Tom gave up his life to protect Franky and Iceburg. Robin attempted to sacrifice her life so the Strawhats could continue their journey in peace. Sanji gave up his freedom for Baratie and the Strawhats. And so many countless more lives, given up for the sake of others.

So people often give Dragon shit for being a "deadbeat dad". I've discussed this in the past, so to keep it short; the World Government went out of its way to hunt an unborn child, hurting countless pregnant women, mothers and newborns while chasing for Gold Roger's son. A child who had "evil blood" and had to be exterminated from the world. Similarly, the World Government went out of its way to put a massive bounty on an eight year old child for the crime of being able to read ancient texts. Dragon would have known and understood that if he ever had a child, as the leader of the Revolutionary Army, his child would become yet another target for the World Government to hunt, just like Ace and Robin did. This should also apply to Crocodile; if the WG found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries they would no doubt strip him of his Shichibukai status and make him a wanted man again. Crocodile's child would thus be in just as much danger, even if the Government didn't realize it was ALSO Dragon's son. If Dragon wanted his son to be free and choose his own path in life, Dragon had to keep his distance from Luffy. The same would apply to Crocodile. Luffy probably ended up in Garp's care, not because his parents didn't want to raise him, but because they wanted Luffy to be free.

But as long as the World Government exists, if they ever found out about Dragon having a son, that child would end up in danger, he could become a target. And the only way to ensure that child's safety would be by eliminating the ultimate threat. The Government.

Now that is the ultimate goal of the Revolutionary Army anyways, something Dragon and co have been working towards for over two decades now. But most of their efforts have gone into freeing small countries by overthrowing corrupt governments and gaining support, little by little. Which is understandable, the WG is impossibly powerful, you can't just walk into Marijoa all willy-nilly, take out the Tenryuubito and free the world, the Government's forces would take you down within seconds. Dragon understands this, which is no doubt why the Revolutionary Army hasn't made a move against Marijoa directly until the latest Reverie. It'd be too risky, and if the Revs were taken down, who would be left to oppose the WG? Their slow approach makes sense. But at the same time, while the Revs did attack Marijoa, destroying the Tenryuubito's food banks and freeing a single slave... as long as the Tenryuubito are allowed to literally stay on top of the world, this attack has done nothing. They're just going to demand more tributes, they're going to enslave more people. It's going to make things worse for those who aren't in power. It's harsh and unreasonable, and I don't agree with them, but I do understand where some fans are coming from when they considder Dragon a "fraud". If you wanted to help free the world from this corrupt rule, then you have to actually strip those in power from their status, otherwise nothing will ever change. You have to actually fight the enemy.

I can not tell you for certain why Crocodile wanted to create "a military nation powerful enough to oppose the World Government", I do not know for sure why he wanted to obtain an Ancient Weapon. But nuking Marijoa out of orbit sure would be a fast way to end the rule of the Tenryuubito, ensure nobody would get hurt by the World Government's corruption and slavery ever again, and make sure your son would never become targetted by them. A line of thought I'm sure Dragon would not have agreed with. But a line of thought Crocodile could believe in.

Remember how we still don't quite know what Cross Guild is up to? How the Shichibukai are based on Romancing SaGa 2's Seven Heroes, a group formed by Wagnas (Crocodile) with the swordsman Noel (Mihawk) by his side to save the world from a great evil? And how Cross Guild has been focusing on hunting down Marines by putting bounties on their heads? Make of that what you will.

🐊 Learning not just to love and trust others but to be loved as well

Robin tried to sacrifice herself not just because she loved the Strawhats, but because she thought she herself was unlovable and did not trust the crew, believing they too would betray her eventually. Sanji tried to sacrifice himself because he thought he was unworthy of being loved. Ace went through most of his life, thinking it would've been better if he had never been born at all. We know Crocodile does not trust people. The logical assumption here is that it's because he was betrayed in the past and had his trust broken. Did he ever have a crew, in his younger pirating days? If so, what happened to them? Did they betray him, leave him? After Whitebeard kicked his ass? Who knows. If Crocodile was in a relationship with Dragon though, it does mean that one point he loved and trusted someone, deeply. So much so they had a child. But if their relationship ended because Crocodile is trans, that would have broken his heart, wouldn't it? Made it hard for him to trust anyone ever again. And what would make you believe you were unlovable more than being rejected by your significant other for being queer. But as I mentioned before; Luffy loves and respects trans people. His affection towards queer characters through out the series is absolutely unmatched (the way he exclusively uses the "-chan" honorific for Bon Kurei, Ivankov and Inazuma, calls Yamato a man, and is far more interested in Okiku's spooky mask than her being trans). What would be a better way for Crocodile to be reminded that he can be loved and that he can trust others than being accepted by his estranged son?

🐊 Inherited Will

In Alabasta we learn Crocodile once had a dream that he gave up upon after learning how strong the most powerful pirates of the Grand Line, the ones standing between him and his dreams, truly were. In Marineford we learn Crocodile lost to Whitebeard in his youth. During Miss Goldenweek's Cover story, we learn Crocodile dreamt of becoming Pirate King.

A dream that he shares with Luffy. An inherited will Luffy carries on.

You know the RPG trope where the final boss is either god or your dad? Yeah. This line really hits different when you shout it at your father.

Now, all of this is fine and dandy, but what does this actually do? How would Crocodile being Luffy's other bio-father add to his character, impact Luffy and the story as a whole?

Now there's no way for me to fully predict how the plot is going to develop through out the Final Saga and what might go down. There's a million moving pieces and a billion potential directions things could go. We could be here forever debating those things. But as I did explain in detail already, if Crocodad Real, it could heavily impact Crocodile's character depending on what does/doesn't happen.

For one, we could have an idea of why Crocodile is a plot relevant character again; if his ultimate goal had always been to destroy the World Government to protect his son at whatever cost, then we might know why he wanted to create Cross Guild to begin with; either create a military force strong enough to fight the WG on their own, or, if nothing else, dwindle down the Government's forces and be a general nuisance that leaves the WG vulnerable (perhaps enough so that the Revolutionaries can do the hard work) and/or unable to spend their resources on hunting down Luffy and the Strawhats. Crocodile could be acting as bait, a distraction to protect his son. There's a few options there. This would also give us an idea of where that Cross Guild plotline could be heading; some people believe CG is there to join the race for One Piece and get defeated by the Strawhats, and that'll be the end of it. But now we would have another option, of Cross Guild joining the expected final war against the World Government together with the Strawhats and the Revolutionary Army. So that's one way Crocodad could impact the story and the general direction its heading.

But then there's the character-side of things, how would Crocodad impact our characters? Now obviously, the three characters that would be most impacted by the theory would be Crocodile, Luffy and Dragon. There's some other characters too, Ivankov (since they didn't know), Robin, potentially some Cross Guild members (could they learn to respect Crocodile more sincerely if they learned that the man did in fact have a heart and something/someone he cared about and wanted to protect?) and maybe even Garp, but realistically, it's the core of the family itself.

Now Dragon already would know about everything so there'd be no Shocking Revelation for him. And based on what we saw him say about Sabo maybe being responsible for Cobra's death at the Reverie, we can make an educated guess that Dragon is Not Happy With What Crocodile Did In Alabasta.

So the two aren't on good terms, probably. Dragon might just be absolutely furious at Crocodile for what he did. Understandable tbh. I guess we're just going to be left wondering if the two could somehow ever reconcile, and whether or not they still love each other deep down, despite all the pain and hurt (and warcrimes) they've gone through.

Then there's Luffy. And I guess everything boils down to two major questions; will Luffy ever find out the truth, and if he does, will that impact how he feels about Crocodile? 'Cause it's entirely plausible the series could end with Crocodad being real and Luffy never finding out. And in that scenario, well, Crocodad could impact those other aspects of the story, just not Luffy. And in some ways that could be fine too. It could still be meaningful for Crocodile (and Dragon) that way. But what if Luffy did find out? Now, mind you, it's already a bit of a mystery how Luffy feels Crocodile as of now in the story; back in Impel Down he still understandably hated the man's guts with a fiery passion, but after Marineford Luffy does kind of owe Crocodile his life after he saved him. And Luffy is generally speaking pretty respectful when it comes to stuff like that. But also Luffy was unconcious when Crocodile yeeted him and Jinbei out of Akainu's reach, so does Luffy even know Crocodile saved him? (Though surely he would remember Croc sparing Ace and getting guarded from Mihawk) Not to mention, when the Cross Guild reveal happened, the only comments we got about it where Luffy calling Buggy an idiot and Zoro being confused about Mihawk being there. They didn't even acknowledge Crocodile. It was almost like Oda seemed to avoid the subject?

We also need to considder how much would Luffy find out? Just the basics, that his other parent is a trans man and just happens to be Crocodile? Or like, everything? From whatever his plans were with taking over Alabasta to however Crocodile might feel about his sweet baby boy? Because if all Crocodile had wanted to do was protect his son, despite knowing he might never see him again, and if Crocodile did still unconditionally love Luffy despite everything that happened, despite knowing (/assuming) that Luffy already hates him... Well first off, Robin nearly assassinated Iceburg and was willing to let the World Government potentially get their hands on an Ancient Weapon just to protect Luffy and co (on top of all the deaths she helped cause while working for Crocodile, all because she wanted to read the Poneglyph herself). If Luffy was willing to forgive Robin for all that, would he not forgive his dad for doing the same? And Luffy isn't one to dismiss kindness, when people express that they genuinely care about him and his well being Luffy does respect that (even if doesn't fully reciprocate the feelings, like with Hancock). And Luffy has deep emotional intelligence too. If Crocodile was convinced he'd be rejected by Luffy for who he was, especially if that had happened to him in the past to begin with, over something Luffy wouldn't bat an eyelash at (like being trans), like. Luffy wouldn't be shitty about that.

We know Crocodile is a broken, traumatized man. We don't know how much shit he has gone through though, beyond getting his ass beat by Whitebeard and The Divorce. Knowing how Oda likes to layer trauma in character backstories*, there definitely could be more to Crocodile than just those two things, but for the sake of this post, let's just focus on The Divorce. *(Like how Robin was alienated by her community long before the Ohara Genocide, and then spent decades of her life fleeing from the Government, hurt and abandoned by people time and time again. Or how Kuma was born into slavery, lost the love of his life and finally gave up everything he had just to save the life of his daughter. Early OP flashbacks may have been a bit simpler, but as time as gone they have definitely gotten more complex and layered, so I would not be surprised if Crocodile's Full Backstory had like 3+ layers to his trauma)

One important part of One Piece has been teaching/reminding certain characters important lessons, to change their view of the world and make them better people as a result.

Here's some of the messages of One Piece, its beating heart and soul

And of course, sometimes some characters can't have their minds changed, at least not that easily. But their ideals and worldview can always be challenged and proven wrong. This is what happens to many of the villians in the story. Like Moria's ideas of how he shouldn't have to do any of the hard lifting himself and how instead of having friends he can just have replacable zombies instead. Moria's worldview was wrong, and is exactly what led to his downfall in Thriller Bark. Or Spandam and the CP9's ideas of justice, how anything they do can be justified as it is for the "good of the world", including killing innocent civilians. They can do that, because they are "heroes of the world", they are "justice". Needless to say, none of the CP9's actions during Enies Lobby could be considdered "heroic", and, well. If "justice always prevails", then their defeat did prove theirs was a false one. Or how Enel isn't a god, how Doflamingo doesn't have a god given right to rule (neither does Wapol for that matter), how Akainu's ideas of "absolute justice" are monstrous at best, how the way Judge and Big Mom treat their families is not how a family should be like at all.

During Alabasta, Crocodile's plans were foiled because of he didn't trust his underlings with his secret identity and refused to communicate properly with them himself. That one conversation between Crocodile and "Mr. 3" (Sanji) is more or less what allowed the Strawhats to reach Alabasta just in time to stop him. But although distrust is what lead to Crocodile's downfall, he still carries that core belief even now; he still doesn't trust others. Which raises the question, what other beliefs might Crocodile still carry deep inside?

That he can't trust anyone because people will betray and leave him sooner or later? That nobody would ever stay by his side, that nobody will ever love him?

Are those not the exact same core messages of One Piece, the false beliefs that we've seen proven wrong, time and time again?

It really wouldn't be right to end the series without Luffy proving Crocodile wrong once and for all, and make him change his worldview, now would it? But hey, the good news is that there might be no better way to prove Crocodile wrong than to have his son unconditionally forgive him and accept him as his father.

All of this to say; yes, I think if Crocodad was real, it would heavily impact Crocodile's character and whatever character arc he might have. Like I'm not arguing for Crocodad in the name of meme'ing. His whole story could suddenly tie into so many of series' core themes and messages, and tie into our main character in a meaningful way. It could impact heavily where the story as a whole is heading.

The other, more likely option is that Crocodad isn't real and that I have lost my marbles thinking I was onto something with this post. In the end, time will be the judge of that. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my utter derangement.

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #If you've been following me for long enough and read most of my daily CrocoPosting then this is mostly repeating shit I've already posted #But there is also some shit that's like. I can't remember if I posted it or if it's still rotting in my drafts unfinished #This is. So obscenely long. Good dear god.#But this is it. This is my fucking thesis.#My Brain is Soup

447 notes · View notes

caeunot · 3 months

Note

Can you do a friends to lovers fic for johnnie with them being super touchy as friends

i love this !! thank you for also being my first ever ask<3

johnnie guilbert x reader

you and johnnie have been friends for a few months now, you two became close quite fast since you both have similar interests and world views. you didn't have a youtube channel of your own but you loved making lil cameos in johnnies vids or even jakes since you love eating almost as much as he does.

you were hanging out with jake and johnnie with a few other of their friends like jc and scuff, you guys had been out the whole day and you were exhausted. as you made it to the couch you slumped next to johnnie and complained about how tired you were, "im sure it's fine if you lie down for a bit" he said, you nodded and lay down on johnnies lap using it as a pillow. at first he looked a bit confused but he soon relaxed and started gently playing with your hair while still talking to the others.

your friends definitely noticed how touchy you two were, but to be honest your love language was touch and it was painfully obvious, so no one over thought when you were extra affectionate towards johnnie. when the two of you were together you would often fix his hair or if a peice of his clothing was folded you would fix, sometimes the two of you would even cuddle depending on the circumstances.

you didn't intend to actually fall asleep but you did, and when you eventually did wake up you felt a soft blanket on top of you, you then looked around and realized that everyone was gone. well everyone except johnnie. he was still on the couch with one hand on your waist the other on his phone.

"hey sleepyhead you finally awake?" you sat up and rubbed your eyes, "why did u let me fall asleep that's so embarrassing.. how long has it been" you say anxiously as you can see it's become dark outside. "only 4 hours" he says with a smug face, making you roll your eyes.

you dramatically fell forward into his shoulder, "four fucking hours" you mutter through his shirt. he puts his phone down and let his hands run through the hair by your shoulders before slowly pushing you up to face him. "everyone was already tired and left soon after you fell asleep and I didn't mind at all okay? I promise it's fine" he says with a reassuring smile.

you appreciate his words but demand that you do something for him in return, as your looking into his eyes you then decided what it is, "can I remove your makeup for you? as like a thank you!" he makes a confused face (which reminded you of a puppy). "you don't have to do anything, makeup wipes take basically a minute to use there's really no need"

but your mind had already been made, plus since you were staying over for the night you had brought all your skincare and decided to give him a mini facial.

you sat down on the side of their bathtub and johnnie sat down next to you, you took out a wipe and started removing the makeup. you then held his cheek in your other hand so that his face can be more stable. when your done you let him splash his face with water and you take out your foaming cleanser. to do this you sat even closer to him, basically feeling his breath as you took your hands and gently massaged the cleanser into his face.

"i don't think you could be a professional with those nails, like your so close to poking my eyes out" he says after you finished, he noticed your facial expressions change, "but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it" he says almost defensively.

as you finish off with moisturizer you can see he's on the verge of falling asleep, you knew you were done but a part of you didn't want this to end. "hey johnnie there's ooone more thing to do okay?" he nods and let's you lead him towards his room. "you can just sit down on your bed" you say confidently, as if there was an actual need for any of this. johnnie is that exhausted to the point where he is just mindlessly following your instructions, which made what you were going to do a whole lot easier.

when he sat down you also started yawning yourself, as if you didn't just come out of a nap but anyways. you took his hairbrush from his side tables and sat down next to him. without saying a word you started to brush his hair while gently moving it around. "are you having fun" he says, scrunching his face up slightly.

once you finished and put the brush down you decided to be a little more forward and leaned back against the end of the bed while gently moving johnnie so that he's laying on your chest. he didn't say a word until you started brushing your fingers through his hair, this time you moved it in a way where your long nails were massaging him and he accidentally let out a small whimper.

he immediately got embarrassed and sat up. "shit sorry I know you didn't mean it that way I'm just exhausted and it felt really good'". you noticed that from those words the tension between the two of you seem to change. "hey it's okay, just come sit back down". he bites his lip in slight hesitation but he then goes and sits back down in his original spot.

you massaged his head gently for a bit longer before slowly moving yourself lower to where you faced him on the pillow. "the spare room is so far away, can I just sleep here tonight?" without responding, johnnie slips his arm around your waist and tucks himself gently against your chest. "yes please".

❣

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert imagine

887 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 4 months

Note

omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭

Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity.

And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.

…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing.

You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.

But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.

—

When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.

However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.

You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.

But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.

Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine.

Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.

The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.

Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.

But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?

A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.

Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.

“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.

“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.

“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?

Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.

Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.

In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets.

The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.

There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.

The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.

In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.

—

However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were.

Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.

But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.

“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.

“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.

“Because needles are scary,” you whine.

“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”

“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.

“What about the needle?”

“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful.

“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.

Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.

“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.

“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.

“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.

“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?

“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.

“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you.

“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.

“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.

“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”

“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.

“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”

“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’

“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”

Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…

—

Bonus:

“Dottore?”

“Yes, [Name]?”

“Can you make them… gummy?”

“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”

“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this.

“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.

“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.

“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”

“[Name].”

“I’m sorry.”

612 notes · View notes

takecareluv · 9 months

Note

hello, maybe some headcanons/concepts on meeting vinnies friends🥺love your stuff so much

she’s the one || vinnie hacker x reader

word count : 873

author’s note : i thought i posted this already ?/? i’m so sorry, nonnie! i didn’t realize it was still in my drafts >.< i hope you like this! i started writing it as a short concept but then it became longer so i turned it into more of a headcanon / blurb ( idrk !) also thank you so much for your kindness <3 mwah !! <3

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

vinnie’s down bad from the moment he met you, there’s no doubt about it. he’d been practically begging the universe for a girlfriend for ages now and finally, after months of sulking and swiping left on the endless amount of l.a. girl that are basically carbon copies of each other, here you are ; everything he’s been searching for — a diamond in a sea of glass.

after just one date with you, he knew you were the one and he wasn’t shy about sharing his excitement. his friends weren’t used to this side of vin, and although most would find it annoying to hear him go on and on and on about this perfect girl he’d been seeing for only a short period of time, his friends were happy for him ; and dying to meet the mystery girl that’s got their best friend cheesin’ non stop.

it wasn’t too far along in the relationship that vinnie would bring up introducing you to his friends. they meant the world to him, and now so did you, of course he couldn’t keep you hidden for long.

you, however, were extremely nervous to meet the infamous group. knowing vinnie’s current living situation, you knew his friends would be around a lot ; so in your mind, if they didn’t approve of you, you could kiss your relationship — also known as the best thing that’s ever happened to you — goodbye.

vinnie assured you a million and one times that wasn’t the case and you had absolutely nothing to worry about. his friends would love you just as much as he did — well maybe not as much as vinnie did, that would be impossible, but a close second.

so here you were, sitting passenger side in vinnie’s mazda, on your way to his house to meet only a few of his closest friends — baby steps, as vinnie called it.

the car ride was filled with vin whispering sweet nothings to calm any and all of your nerves ; his hand on your thigh, as it was during every car ride you shared, giving gentle squeezes as to say a silent ‘i love you’ ; and short kisses pressed to your lips, cheek, forehead — anywhere vinnie could reach while the light was still red. it didn’t take long for you to become a blushing mess and forget all the worries that filled your mind only minutes prior. that was the effect vinnie had on you, and one of the many reasons you loved him — you’ve never felt more safe and happy with anyone in your life.

after a longer ride than anticipated, thanks to the constant bustling streets of l.a., you pulled into the driveway of vinnie’s gigantic home.

the anxiety you were feeling quickly came back to you once you saw just how many cars filled both the driveway and garage of the house — way more than you expected. vinnie could see you eyeing them while simultaneously doing the math in your head. he realized by the looks of it, it would seem as if there was a party going on inside when in reality, as he hurried to explain to you, most of those cars were his own — immediately causing you to let out a big sigh of relief. but wonder, how many cars does one person need?

being the gentleman that he is, vinnie opened the car door for you, holding his hand out to guide you towards the house.

before you made it to the front door, he paused, pulling you into a hug as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you and they’re going to love you, i promise. you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

and vinnie was right, like always, he was quick to remind you later. his friends adored you.

jett was especially impressed with your knowledge on cars — little did he know it came from all the babbling you heard whenever vinnie visited you after just spending hours at the warehouse.

you originally planned on staying for only a little bit before heading to a dinner reservation, but the boys begged vinnie to cancel it, not wanting you to leave just yet. and how could vinnie say no to that. he was just thrilled to see his favorite people getting along.

instead, he ordered food for everyone and you spent the rest of the evening watching anime and playing games with the group — getting yourself into an intense game of mario kart with jack.

hera even joined the party and cuddled up right next to you on the couch, squishing herself between you and vinnie.

vinnie couldn’t help the smile that was glued to his face. his best friends, his favorite girl and his precious cat all together in one room — it couldn’t get better than this.

when it was time for vinnie to drive you home, the boys were already inviting you back over for a barbecue the following weekend. a barbecue vinnie didn’t even know they were having until that moment.

the following morning they were all telling vinnie how lucky his was to have found you and that you were definitely the one. even commenting on how they’d never seen him so happy.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker x y/n

776 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

lovelyparagraphs-blog1

latest trends celebs

sofiartwork-blog

Sofia Ayarza

miltonsbreadmill

Oddly familiar, comfortably numb

heinzzysset

Heinz7777

rest-daughter-right

Untitled