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wondero28 · 1 year

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Beach Day w/ 4*Town

My first ever request! It still means so much to me, i hate that i can’t link to the original ask

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Also i uh- I don’t really go to the beach often?? I hope these trips are ok?? I dont think I’ve been to a beach maybe 5 times. Some of these run a little long though- im sorry-

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Robaire

- Robaire going to the beach seems like an innocent trip- but its quickly something that’ll turn into him trying to show off to you & make the most romantic possible trip

- Even if going to the beach was a spur-of-the-moment choice he’s already thinking of ways to make you smile and laugh at the beach. If its a planned trip then he’s going to work up so many romantic & cheesy displays

- He doesn’t spend much time shopping for the occasion, he’s mostly good to go regardless

- He wears simple green swim trunks & has a muscular body! He’s not ripped or anything- but Robaire works out & it shows so enjoy the eye-candy on the beach trip

- You both visit a beach that sits behind an expensive hotel & is somewhat private because of that. Robaire doesn’t really disguise himself but fortunately he doesn’t really need to since the beach is never too busy

- When you both actually get to the beach, Robaire is going to follow you around & let you have plenty of fun before trying anything too romantic. The first thing he’s going to WANT to do though- is just swim around in the more shallow water & play around with you. He see’s it as a good excuse to hug & give playful kisses (and if given the chance will absolutely smother you with affection). But if you both swim & his foot gets touched by a fish or washed up kelp??? The man is screaming like a gull & flopping over in a panic

- His real goal for y’all’s trip though?? To have a nice little dinner on the beach towels and just enjoy one another’s company. He brought a lot of your favorite snacks & a tiny radio to play music while you both rested & ate. He’s going to use the little dinner date to get close to you & compliment you on just about anything. And he does! It’s honestly super romantic until a seagull tries to steal some of his food- you’ve never seen Robaire flinch so hard (or watched anyone try to punch a bird before)

- Ultimately its a very fun trip, you come back tired but feeling loved from all his cheesy antics. If the other guys are there- he most certainly gave them death glares & explained prior to not interrupt his day w/ you

- Aaron Z & Aaron T definitely interrupted the both of you regardless because: A. rivalry & B. T screams so fucking loud its unsure of whether he’s dying to a shark or loosing at a game of beach ball

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Jesse

- I’m not saying he’s gonna make it a big deal- but he’s gonna make it a big deal

- No seriously Jesse treats y’all’s trip to the beach like y’all are preparing to fight a god. He’ll take you out shopping to get some new swim/beach clothes, new towels, sunscreen, a nice umbrella & cooler etc etc. its a fun day honestly, he makes it into a fun lil date for y’all

- the entire time you guys prep for the trip Jesse is absolutely ecstatic. He loves time like this with you and is hyped about getting to show off his body & new swim trunks

- Speaking of his beach body & beach wear- Jesse is a thick guy. Not necessarily got any pudge but he’s not a super masculine or thin guy. And he bought the most tacky ass Hawaiian floral swim trunks. If you tried to convince him to buy otherwise he’d be dramatic & fake upset, if you joined him in wearing tacky shit?? He’s grinning ear to ear

- You both attend a normal beach, probably later in the day so its less busy. He has sunglasses on & his hair up in a tiny ponytail to avoid being noticed or bothered (which works ridiculously well like ??? Wtf ??? How??)

- When y’all are actually at the beach, Jesse had hopes to try a lot of various activities but in all reality he just ends up lounging around and following you. He’s willing to try just about anything with you but if its left up to him, the both of you are going to snuggle up on a towel & probably lazily float around in the waves a bit later

- He compliments your beach clothes & flirts with you endlessly. It ranges from him telling you how much he loves how you look in the sunny rays to him using bad pick-up lines on you (like y’all Arent already dating 😒)

- His favorite part of the day is honestly probably going to swim in shallow water with you because he just wants to hold you close to him & be your floaty. It doesn’t matter if you’re bigger or smaller then him in any way- the man is insistent that he holds you and lets you relax in his arms while y’all swim around

- Later in the trip Jesse will 100% serenade you while yall are relaxing. He presents to you: a bag of chips and a little paper plate of food from one of the shops on the beach✨. You didn’t expect it to be as good as it was- you both promise each other you’ll need to visit the shop again. But oh? OH! He also got you a gift! While you’re eating Jesse pulls out a pretty little bead necklace with a shark tooth that he snagged from one of the beach shops

- “So you don’t forget about our first beach date!” He cooes, he’ll put it on you & says he doesn’t really expect you to wear it all that often but that he hopes you enjoy it regardless (if you wear it often after the trip- Jesse is filled with so much pride & joy)

- Ultimately its a very chill trip. Its full of a lot of kisses & loving touches, you both have fun (unless the rest of the band is there- then it’s probably a nice trip + a lot of hoots & hollers from the boys WHICH HE IGNORED SURPRISINGLY WELL?)

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Tae Young

- Going to the beach with Tae? I think you mean bird watching & animal hunting

- Not animal hunting as in like- hurting them. But animal hunting as in Tae wants to find a lot of different beach animals & get pictures of them

- Going to the beach with Tae Young was probably a spur-of-the-moment type trip so the two of you are wildly under prepared & probably visit a very public/busy beach. You both likely buy snacks & drinks from random shops set up along the beach, he’ll buy you both matching bracelets that have tiny animal charms in them. He also feed you freshly made goodies from random shops & makes sure you’re never too thirsty or hot on the beach! He’s a sickeningly sweet significant other >:0!!

- He tries to keep his identity hidden with a big ass sun hat & glasses- it works but there were 2 really close calls & he almost cried about both of them

- Aside from the hat & shades, Tae Young is sporting some swim trunks, a beach shirt with various tropical animals on it, and some on brand crocs (😎). You dont see much of his beach bod unless you drag him out to swim but he’s not super toned or anything. He’s got a little bit of pudge on his tummy from the snacks he consistently eats but its mostly unnoticed

- Y’alls day consist of what you’d imagine. A LOT of finding animals & getting pictures. You both actually end up staying on the beach well into the night because new animals started to emerge after the sun set. You guys see sea gulls, 1-2 pelicans, a lot of tiny hermit crabs, various lizards, some random unidentified fish that was hanging out in the shallows, and at night you even saw some moon jellyfish wash up!! Which Tae Young insisted you help him toss back into the water. The entire trip was filled with so many fun animal facts & an ecstatic Tae

- Speaking of the animals- Tae Young was 100% doing what no one should do on the beach. He was feeding the gulls. It was really chaotic but when he got you closer to him & had an arm around you while you both fed & watched the gulls?? It was honestly really sweet. And if you express wanting to try other activities with him he’ll do whatever you want in a heartbeat. He doesn’t want to make the trip about himself or his own fun- he just forgets that not everyone is buck wild for animals sometimes

- Also I didn’t mention prior but Tae Young PROBABLY invited the others. So for most of the day you can expect Aarons T & Z not far off because the both of them are trying to catch the animals they come across (ever seen 2 grown ass men trying to catch a pelican? It ain’t go well)

- Later in the night, Tae Young is going to lay around n cuddle up with you on a few beach towels. The two of you can just stargaze & talk. And honestly i think a lot of today made you both tired so Tae 100% offers to let you nap in his arms for awhile while he just gently rubs your back & peppers your face & hands with kisses

- Ultimately?? Super fun trip. Maybe not the most normal beach day/night but it was a unique adventure for you both. And y’all had the best cuddles and laughs that day

- Also jesse got a video of T being absolutely beaten down & bitten by a pelican. Its viral & the both of you are just standing in the background as Tae young shares a fact about how pelicans are scary because they try & usually do eat anything smaller then them (T cries abt this)

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Aaron T

- Ok so a trip with Aaron T, is really just a trip with Aaron T + Aaron Z. But a trip with Aaron Z? Is really a trip with Aaron Z + Tae Young. And a trip with Ta- ok you get it. The entire gaggle of boys is there with you guys unless you explicitly tell Aaron T he’s not allowed to invite anyone else

- Whether a beach trip w/ T is spur-of-the-moment or not- he doesn’t prep much. He loves visiting the beach & already had what he needed (or he thinks so at least)

- He dresses up with bright orange swim trunks, some sandals, and a long sleeve swim shirt that hugged onto him very nicely 👀. You didn’t directly see much of his beach bod (though hes willing to show you if you ask *wink* *wink*) but Aaron T is pretty thick and lean. Not really got a lot of defined muscles but he’s strong

- He takes you & the others to a public beach WITHOUT ANY DISGUISES because he “promises privacy” so naturally until he reveals y’all are actually sneaking over a natural rock wall to a more secluded part of the beach- you’re all awkwardly trying to hide faces & avoid fans. Sneaking over the rock wall seemed so casual for T, honestly no one else really expected to be sneaking anywhere so a few of you fell over & hurt y’all’s asses

- But once over that wall?? The beach was absolutely gorgeous. It was clean & almost completely empty aside from maybe 1-2 groups of surfers who had the same smart idea

- This was one if the few times when T was actually pretty quiet too, while you & him were setting up your own little spot on the beach, he was just calm & at ease. If you ask him about it, he’ll say he’s quiet so he can listen to the waves. Turns out our lovable and energetic boy is immensely relaxed by the sounds on a beach. Its cute really, you caught him sitting in the sand with his eyes closed just listening to everything around him. This kind of threw the other guys for a loop but you knew better

- Now if its up to T, the two of you are going to do surfing or boogie boarding. He will 100% use this as an excuse to wrap his arms around you (or be wrapped up in your arms) and be close to you while he explains how to use the board. If you’re not a particularly strong swimmer? You both boogie board & he will be close by. Anytime you fall or wipeout he’s laughing & cheering! Giving you kisses & hugs after every try

- If you both actually go surfing (cause yes he got a board appropriate for you & your size) the both of you are going into get a bit of friendly competition between you, T, and Z. And hey! Who knew? Aaron T is ridiculously good at surfing! And he’s having a ridiculous amount of fun. You’ve not heard such a strong belly laugh out of him in ages. He tells you outright that he’s super thankful to share this with you- that this was one of his favorite old hobbies he had to leave behind for the band

- If you don’t care much for the water he doesn’t mind at all, he’ll happily sit around with you on the sand. He convinced you & Tae to help him bury Jesse in the sand & then not help the blond out. Also he 100% forgot to bring food so he’s going to climb over the rock wall & come back with food. He brings the both of you some bags of snacks & while it isn’t SUPER romantic- the both of you share some chips & play the pocky game with them. It was goofy & awkward but it was so worth it

- Ultimately? A trip with Aaron T to the beach is filled with a lot of laughter, not even because of jokes. Just because of fun, and that was pleasant

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Aaron Z

- Unlike T, a trip with Z does not involve him inviting the others. So the both of you actually sneak away from the band one day to have a nice beach date. It was probably planned but- honestly he doesn’t mind being drug out to the beach at random. Not if its just you two

- Speaking of- Aaron Z really cherishes alone time with you, he had an easier time opening up & being more himself. So you can expect him to be more chatty and giddy on this trip then he is normally (its not that he’s uncomfortable around the guys- he just has an easier time being himself when its 1 on 1, and has the most fun being himself around you)

- Z dresses very casually for the occasion, hes wearing a black t shirt with some black swim trunks that have purple accents. He didn’t bother bringing shoes so he buys some crummy flipflops right before y’all head out to the beach (he only trips in the sand 1 time 😎) he intends on taking off the shirt for swimming- and his beach body?? Absolutely beautiful ✨ he has a classic beach bod with some decent muscle definition all over (if you make a comment on it you get to see him grin and blush)

- Also he’s similar to to Robaire if y’all got to plan. He got you both a nice hotel room that was out by a private beach, and you both end up visiting at one of the less busy times

- Beach activities for the day are completely up to you unless you force Z to choose something. So take the day to do whatever you like! He’ll be asking you questions & chattering away. You hear a lot of chuckles and snickers out of him, and he’s regularly keeping his hands on you. But not in a pervy way! He just likes physical contact so he’ll be holding hands, wrapping his arm around you, be sitting close, giving regular cheek and temple kisses etc.

- If you make Z choose the activities for the day, he’s probably going to ask you to go swimming with him & maybe surf if you feel comfortable. He’s not as into surfing as T is but he still likes & wants to show off his skills to you on the board! Ultimately though Z wont really have many ideas. Similarly to Jesse- Z just wants to laze around with you. He just enjoys snuggling up and talking

- If you’re not a huge fan of the water though, you can expect ALL KINDS of stupid little competitions between the two of you. Be it playing a game of beach ball, building a tiny kingdom out of sand, seeing who can find the coolest sea shell or sand dollar, playing tag etc. Z is competitive by spirit & adores watching you try to beat him. And as a bonus?? Winner gets to be peppered with kisses and love

- He definitely let you win a few games just so he could smother you with love & compliments. Its so rare to see him so consistently with a smile, but its what having such a wonderful S/O does to a guy 🥰

- The both of you keep some cool shells & sand dollars to remember the trip. And little do you know but Z has a TON of pictures of you from this trip. Selfies & some secret ones- his home screen is a new picture of the both of you in a selfie with him kissing your cheek

- Overall? A relaxed and pretty playful day at the beach, he probably wasn’t super assertive and thats fine. He was yours the entire time & thats what we care about

#4town #4townie #4town x reader #4town imagines #aaron t #aaron z #4town jesse #4town robaire #4town taeyoung #4town aaron t #4town aaron z

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binniesthighs · 3 years

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ANON THIS WAS SO FUN. Oh my gosh thank you so much for requesting this 😭

bites like bittersweet | reader x minho |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: that good good smut

Tags: aphrodisiac au, switch!minho, switch!reader, mentions of food, oral (m recieving), unprotected sex (stay safe!), degredation, pet names, dirty talk, accidental exhibitionism

Word count: 2.4k

“are you kidding me? I can’t believe that you actually spent money on this!! aren’t you just a tiny bit embarrassed?”

“what? I thought that it would be fun to try!”

“if this is your way of seducing me, I hate to tell you, but it isn’t going to work.”

minho threw the chocolate bars back down on the coffee table. he was right; they looked fake and you knew it. the giant logo on the front stared up at you and your skeptical friend. it was an obscenely large kiss mark with different icons of couples fucking for each flavor. you really should have had better judgement. right in front of you was $36 dollars that you would never be getting back.

“and you had to get all the flavors?”

your defeated arms rang themselves above your head. “what?? I wasn’t going to pass up mint, salted caramel and...what’s this called...yeah, cherri amore!”

“and why is it again that you’re asking me to try these--” minho snatched up the flavor Salted Caramelicious in Milk Chocolate to read the label. “--proven aphrodisiac and libido boosters?”

“I dunno!! you were the only one around I guess...?”

minho flicked up one of his eyebrows in his suspicion. “really? that’s why? I don’t believe you. you’re trying to get in my pants aren’t you?!”

“no! Why the hell would I want to get in your pants?”

“hmmm...dare I bring up the locker room incident from a couple summers ago?” sly as ever, minho punched your arm lightly. “i bet that you’ve been dreaming about it ever since then.”

“-have not!! you’re ridiculous.” you gifted him a punch back, but this one wasn’t nearly as joking.

minho rubbed at his arm with a dramatic little “ow” on his lips.

“I’m bored, you don’t have anything else to do, it’s probably a scam and I don’t feel like wasting my $36.”

for a moment, minho pondered in silence as you dished him out your best puppy-dog eyes. in all your years of friendship, there was nothing that did him in better than the way you could make your eyes glisten. “that should be illegal” he would gripe.

“Pleeeese?? ~I know that you like mint chocolate~” you waved the bar gratuitously in front of his nose.

“fine.” he clawed it from your grasp. “i’m sure that it’s gonna be shitty chocolate anyway.” minho’s fingers hastily tore at the little foil edges and wrappings then cracked it in his hand.

you teased him, “should I get us some wine to go with this chocolate?”

minho scoffed and popped a couple chunks in his mouth. “fuck, this is so waxy. I hate you for this.”

~💋~

to your right, your wall clock ticked on as late as it was into the night. you hadn’t expected yourself to get so sleepy, but you and minho had made up the couch into your usual mess of pillows and blankets that would often accompany movie nights. after a while, the two of you had decided to just let netflix autoplay each episode, not really caring that you weren’t quite watching anymore.

“--you feeling anything?” you asked minho for the hundredth time.

“...no; its same answer from the last fifty times that you asked me. like I said, it’s a scam. you were swindled. just admit it.”

“...I don’t think I’m feeling anything either.”

“we ate the shitty chocolate, and that was that.” minho huffed. “god, you owe me big time.”

“isn’t it supposed to take a second to kick in...? isn’t that how these things work?”

“hell if I know.”

your friend sighed out the same unimpressed sigh he had been repeating for the last 45 minutes or so. he sat up a little straighter upon his realization.

“wait...so you’re saying that you want me to get turned on???”

“ah-no!!! don’t misunderstand!! it’s not that I want you to get turned on, i just want to know if it’s a scam or not. you know...for science?”

“for science? since when was science a part of all this?”

“i-it always was!”

“let’s just...finish watching this episode or two and then you’re leaving, got it?

you nodded, “got it!”

around your shoulder, minho snaked his arm to rest it gently, leaning you into him just a little. this place had always been your favorite spot. nuzzled into him like this, you could nearly hear his heartbeat in his chest. with the tv droning and the muffled “boom-boom” of his heart, you were drawn to sleep with ease, however, as you drifted, there was something different about the pace in which his heart would usually beat close to you.

~💋~

at first, you were woken by the sound of explosions. in the time that minho had promised, “this episode or two,” netflix had already made it’s way to playing a movie. strangely enough, minho hadn’t bothered changing it; it was his least favorite kind: the kind with car chases and missiles and the end of the world.

secondly, you were awoken by his voice, urgent and shallow.

“hey. hey. get up. y/n, get your heavy-ass head off me.”

“wha-what is it? what time is it? what is this?” you rubbed your blurry vision away with your palms.

“I...” minho choked down a thick gulp. “I-I think that I’m feeling...something...”

“what?!” your head snapped to look him in his terrified widened eyes. normally he would make fun of the rat’s nest on your head, but this time, his eyes remained unmoving.

mortified, minho uttered out again, “I feel...something...”

“something what? spit it out!!”

“don’t you dare look but...oh god...” your friend choked in an inhale.

he didn’t need to finish his sentence before your eyes had drifted down to where the spiderman themed blanket covered his lap. sure enough, he tented the fabric in the most obvious way.

“shit-this is so embarrassing.” minho steadied his breaths then winced “it kinda...hurts.”

this time, your eyes widened. “hurts?”

“yeah it does, okay???? don’t fucking rub it in.”

you found yourself getting defensive, “well what the hell do we do now???”

“I don’t know!!!” minho yelled into the dark room incredulously.

“can’t you just...I don’t know...jerk it away??? ”

“right here???”

“NO like in the bathroom or something I mean!!!”

“greaaat, you broke my dick!! and you’re being of no help at all!”

“well what would you have be do then huh? suck it off for ya right here and now?? would that be sooooo helpful to you??”

in your frustration, you tore spiderman off of his lap, then there it was: in its full glory.

yes, the locker room incident had lingered on your mind from time to time but.. you certainly didn’t remember it looking like that.

in your whole life, you never would have guessed that the thought, “thank-you-god for-blessing-us-with-the-invention of-grey-sweatpants” would grace your stream of consciousness but...here you were.

“m-minho...I-I think that it’s effecting me too.” your eyes ogled his member: lusciously thick and long, practically fighting the pants that kept it in. it bulged in his pants gorgeously and he had even wet himself a little from his leaking pre-cum.

“Huh!?”

“wow.” you marveled.

you really don’t know why you had done it, but suddenly the entire room felt much hotter, and taking off your shirt made much more sense so, you did.

“what the hell are you doing?!” minho attempted to pull up a blanket to cover your chest.

“does it really hurt?” something must have possessed you: your voice had dropped several octaves and you felt yourself breathing out the words with air.

as soon as he had heard your voice change, it was like he was enchanted. “A-a little. ‘feels really...trapped.” minho ate up the way that your eyes raked over his hard-on.

“oooh does it?” you used your index and ring finger to walk your hand over to his thigh where you then grabbed at him in starving handfuls. his muscles felt so beautiful in your hands.

minho whimpered out the whiniest, most desperate little sound that he could manage as his closed eyelids fluttered. there was no way in this world that you could ever imagine him making such a noise, especially from your touch.

yeah, you might have dreamt about it a couple times or more.

your hand tranced the outline of his dick on his pants.

“oh-shit--” minho keened under your touch, jerking his body viciously.

“god, you’re fucking gorgeous when you’re hard.” the words left your lips unapologetically and by seeing the way that minho practically melted from the compliment, you felt your whole body swell with that same aching pain.

“--tou-touch--”

your hand gave minho’s cock one good hard squeeze and he grunted out so loudly that you were fearful it could have been heard from the next apartment over. shaky breaths trembled from his lips and he rutted into your hand.

“‘hurts so, so bad.”

you almost missed it, but single tears fell from both of his eyes.

“what do you want me to do about it?”

exasperated, minho threw his head into the crook of your neck, panting, “an-anything. but--I-want your mouth. please...”

“of course.” you cooed, then snuck your hand under the elastic of his pants, getting another squeeze in. his eyes had glared at your lips long enough, so you decided to grant them their wish. you practically threw your whole weight into him, knocking both of your balances away as you rushed your lips into his. both of your mouths were hot and insatiable: your sloppy kisses were an utter mess: and you had never used so much tongue before in your life. wet kissing sounds filled the space between you both and tangled up with your shameless moans.

in your own pants, the situation wasn’t much different, but your desire to utterly destroy your needy friend was overwhelming and you could ignore it for a couple seconds more.

minho rose his hips for you pull his briefs and pants off, then sat back down to display his cock, red, veiny and dripping. your mouth salivated just thinking about how amazing it would feel in your mouth.

your friend didn’t give you much time to think before he had pulled your head nearer to him, then tapped his tip on your lips.

“shouldn’t I tease you first? whatever happened to foreplay?” you licked his length up and down.

“just--I don't care about that, I’m ready now,--fucking--please, please, I’m begging you to take me in your mouth.

“~ahhhh~ you’re so cute when you beg.”

minho’s full length was nearly too much for you to handle, but regardless, you swallowed him down using every ounce of your skill. the way that he moaned for you sounded so pathetic and needy, but he only pushed your head down farther.

“my little cockslut” minho gasped, “taking me in so good with that pretty mouth of yours...you’re so amazing, it’s so...mmph...just like...I always dreamed it would be...”

he threw his head back to guffaw at himself. “I can’t believe that this is happening.”

“quit talking and let me hear more of those pretty moans of yours.” you demanded of him, switching to jerk him up and down with your hand. your own saliva coated each and every one of your fingers.

“gonna...make me cum!” minho’s fingers dug into the edge of the sofa. “can-can I?”

“no.” you answered with a devilish smile. “you’re not gonna let me have any fun?”

“sorry, sorry...what do you want from me now?”

you continued jerking him once you had crept your lips up his body, kissing up his chest and stomach. your thumb played with his slit, eliciting even more pre-cum to come dripping out of his adorable tip. you reached his mouth where you let him get a taste.

just as before, the sofa started feeling too stuffy and warm for you, so your frazzled brain searched the room for the next best place, and there really was only one other.

“come with me,” you circled minho in your arms, pulling you both down to carpeted floor, taking a couple blankets with you as they tied in your limbs. “fuck me into the ground minho.”

a fire lit behind minho’s soft brown eyes that you had never seen, and soon he had ridded you of all of your own clothes.

“oh kitten, there's nothing that I would love to do to you more.”

for mere moments, yours and minho’s bodies lingered, pressed flush against each other as both of your hips grinded together seeking some kind of relief and your mouths searched for hungry answers.

“be a good boy for me minho,” you whispered into him, “fuck me so hard I’m dizzy, hmm?”

“if you insist...” minho buried his head into your neck to bite into the skin, no doubt leaving marks for you later.

everything reached a certain symphonic climax once he guided himself into your entrance which was nearly twitching to be filled by him. his length and girth stretched you out perfectly, and soon you knew it wouldn’t take too much for him to show you all the stars in the galaxy behind your eyelids.

he thrust into you with feral sounding grunts, and your back burned a little against the carpet under you.

“don’t-don’t stop...mmm--”

body ablaze, the beginnings of your orgasm start to build in your core, begging for more and more. deep inside you, minho grazed your euphoric spot and you moaned out his name with reckless abandon.

“say it louder for me baby.” your friend would greedily command, adoring the way that his name would bounce off the walls.

“I’m close, god, minho--”

ding-ding-ding!

had you not been cumming with a searing white heat with minho jerking himself wildly over your stomach, you would have seen chan open the door, pretending to sneak his way in.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” chan threw his arms over his eyes. “...AND IN THE OPEN LIVING ROOM???”

“ch-chan?” minho threw the blankets over both of your gasping bodies, still recovering from your orgasms of seconds ago.

“ I...oh my god.” chan shielded his eyes the whole walk to his room.

“I’m sorry!!” Minho called after him, eyes then falling to his white painting on your stomach. “hmm. that looks kinda nice.”

~💋~

later, when you would be cleaning up, chan would discover your litter of half eaten bars of chocolate, then would turn them over to laugh in your face:

“uhhhh guys...you know that those are a placebo right?”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids oneshots #stray kids drabbles #kpop drabble #kpop imagine #kpop smut #Lee Minho smut #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #minho x y/n #minho x you #Minho x reader

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knuffled · 3 years

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Just Practice - Chapter 14

here’s the latest chapter! hope you all enjoy it! if you could leave a comment, it would mean the world to me! not that many people commented last chapter sadly.

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Out of all of Annabeth’s friends, Piper undoubtedly had the largest house. It was a beautiful three story house with a modern minimalist aesthetic, but it somehow also managed to retain a homely atmosphere. As an aspiring architect, Annabeth thought that it was a feast for the eyes, but Piper had never liked it, mainly because her father was hardly ever home. That was ideal for someone like Annabeth, but Piper was a huge extrovert so she found it unbearable having such a huge house to herself. Piper did her best to circumvent that by having friends over whenever possible, a role that usually fell on Jason’s shoulders, but Annabeth had dropped by after school instead to work on a partner project that they had been assigned for their history class.

Piper greeted her at the front door, practically half-asleep. She was wearing pajamas that had smiling cartoon cupcakes printed on them, her choppy hair was thoroughly disheveled, and her eyes were dazed and unfocused. Annabeth was particularly amused by the impression left on her face from sleeping with her cheek pressed against the seams of two sofa cushions.

“You look positively glamorous, darling.”

Piper half-heartedly rolled her eyes and led her to the living room. “Shut up, I was doing hot girl shit.”

“I didn’t know napping qualified as ‘hot girl shit’,” Annabeth said, making air quotes.

“There’s a reason they call it beauty sleep, babe,” Piper said.

They stopped at the living room, and the sight there only made Annabeth’s smirk widen. It was a complete mess, strewn about with empty bags of cheetos, bottles of kombucha, and half-empty oreo trays. Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest and gave Piper a significant look, wondering what sort of excuse she would come up with, but Piper just flipped her off and dove belly first onto the sofa.

“Before you ask, I was too busy to clean,” Piper said, voice muffled by a sofa cushion.

“Busy doing hot girl shit?” Annabeth prompted innocently.

Piper turned her head to glower at her. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

Annabeth bit back a smile and lifted a half-empty bottle of kombucha from the coffee table. She gave it a ginger sniff and gagged at the fermented smell.

“I don’t know how you can drink this stuff.”

“It’s good for your digestive system,” Piper said, sighing.

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to offset the fact that your diet consists solely of flaming hot cheetos and oreos.”

“I’m seriously like ten seconds away from kicking you out of my house,” Piper warned.

Annabeth laughed and said, “Alright, alright, I assume that means you’re ready to start working on the project then?”

Piper groaned into the sofa and forced herself to sit upright. “You’re an absolute menace.”

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack for her laptop and the project rubric instead of looking at her. “I love you, too.”

Piper sighed melodramatically and cleared the coffee table of its aforementioned debris so that they had a place to work. They spent nearly two hours researching content for their project, and Annabeth was happy with the amount of work they were able to get done. For all their bickering, she and Piper had always made an excellent team, and this project was no exception. That being said, by the end of the two hour mark, Piper was beginning to burn on fumes.

“God, why on fucking earth did I ever think taking AP Euro my senior year was a good idea,” Piper groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Spring break can’t come soon enough.”

“It’s still over a month away,” Annabeth laughed. “We could take a break if you’d like.”

Piper looked up at her abruptly with wide eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with Annabeth?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and said, “We got a lot of work done, so it’s fine if we chill a bit.”

Piper pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s cheek before she could react and beamed at her. “Want something to eat? I’m getting hungry.”

Annabeth scowled and rubbed her cheek. “Uh, do you still have Oreos?”

“Of course, I do,” Piper grinned. “I’m not a heathen.”

“Milk?”

Piper pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “Oh, Annabeth, I am so proud of you.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Annabeth laughed, shoving her.

Piper danced to the kitchen and came back a short while later with a fresh box of oreos and two glasses of milk. Annabeth’s step-mother was a health nut, so they never had junk food at home. She also had to adhere to a strict-ish diet because she was an athlete, so this was the first time in literal years that Annabeth had had the chance to eat an oreo.

“These are a lot better than I remember,” Annabeth said.

“You’re goddamn right. Oreos are gods gift to humanity,” Piper said.

Annabeth smiled. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“So ungrateful,” Piper sniffed. “You can get sent to hell for that sort of thing you know?”

“For not being obsessed with oreos?” Annabeth laughed.

“For having bad taste,” Piper said, giving her a significant look.

“Guilty as charged,” Annabeth sighed. “I mean, I’m friends with you after all.”

Piper groaned and shoved her. “Bitch.”

“You started it,” Annabeth laughed. “I was just enjoying my oreos in peace.”

“I have been nothing but a gracious host, and yet you come into my house and insult me and my all time favorite snack for good measure,” Piper said, shaking her head. “This is why whites don’t deserve rights.”

Annabeth raised her glass of milk. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Sometimes, I honestly wonder how Percy puts up with you.”

“Easy, he’s a lot nicer than you, so I don’t feel the need to sass him,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

“You’re just in denial,” Annabeth teased.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “How is he doing by the way? I haven’t talked to him lately, but I know State is around the corner.”

“He’s doing okay, I think,” Annabeth said. “I haven’t really asked him about it.”

“No Valentine’s Day plans, I’m assuming?” Piper asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nah, I don’t want to break his concentration,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “How about you and Jason? Got a hot date lined up or something?”

“We were just thinking of getting dinner some place nice,” Piper said, shrugging.

“So that means Taco Bell is a no, then?” Annabeth asked, grinning.

“Very funny,” Piper said, narrowing her eyes. “I think we’re going to some Japanese place downtown or something.”

“Hmm, sushi sounds nice.”

Piper shook her head and said, “It’s honestly impressive how you somehow always forget that I’m vegetarian, even after all these years.”

Annabeth’s face turned pink. “Oh, right, sorry.”

Piper knocked elbows with her instead of saying anything and reached for another cookie. Annabeth watched her dunk the cookie in her glass of milk a little too vigorously, causing some of it to spill onto her pajama bottoms, and couldn’t help imagining how Jason would have chided her for it if he had been here. It was still endlessly bemusing to her how two people so diametrically unlike one another had so much romantic chemistry together.

“You ever think about how wild it is that you and Jason have been together for four years now?” Annabeth asked.

Piper laughed and said, “Definitely have a lot more since graduation is coming up soon. It’s pretty insane to me too.”

“What’s your secret, oh wise one,” Annabeth asked teasingly.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “We just communicate really well, ever since day one. Neither of us hide anything from each other. If we are bothered by something, we talk about it. Sometimes that means we get into fights, but it’s still better than bottling everything up.”

Annabeth’s heart squeezed a little in her chest. In contrast, she and Percy hardly ever spoke openly anymore. The weight of all the things they had both left unsaid had snowballed and taken on a line of its own. She didn’t think it had brewed into bitterness, but it felt like ice on the surface of a pond. Shallow and liable to break at any moment.

“We also just genuinely like each other too,” Piper said. “There’s no way we would have lasted if we hated each other’s guts or got bored of each other. Kind of the opposite honestly. The more I got to know him, the harder I fell for him.”

“How could you tell?” Annabeth asked. “Was there a specific moment you realized or something?”

Piper hummed under her breath and stared up at the ceiling. “Hard to say. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic, just little things piling on top of each other, until one day, I just knew. Kind of like getting taller or falling asleep. You don’t notice it when it happens only when you look back.”

When Annabeth was silent, Piper continued and said, “I will say that the first time I can remember consciously thinking it was after a meet sophomore year. Don’t remember how it went, but I can still picture how he looked after the race. He was all gross and sweaty and caked with mud, but his cheeks were pink from all the running and it just made him glow. And at that moment, I just remember thinking ‘Wow, I’m actually in love with this guy.’”

There was something about the way Piper spoke that even Annabeth could hear how much she loved him just by her tone, that it made a lump form in Annabeth’s throat.

“I’m so happy for you two,” Annabeth said softly. “You are both two of the most amazing people I have ever met, so I’m glad you are together.”

Piper laughed and said, “It’s weird to hear you pay me a compliment, but thanks.”

“After that shameless display of ungratefulness, I would suggest you don’t get used to it,” Annabeth said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Piper rolled her eyes and sank back into the sofa. “Is there something going on with you?”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“You tend to ask lots of questions when you’re upset about something,” Piper said, shrugging.

Annabeth blinked. She had no idea that she did that.

“Nothing in particular,” Annabeth said carefully. “Just wanted to hear from someone that’s been in a relationship for four years. I’m still new to it, and I don’t want to fuck everything up.”

“Learn anything useful then?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth was quiet for a while and tried to choose her words carefully. “The part about communicating was helpful.”

Piper gave her a knowing smile. “Really? Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“I feel like it was easier when we were only friends,” Annabeth said.

“Hmm, Percy was just doing a lot of work behind the scenes for you to make you feel that way. Now that you’re in a relationship, it’s harder for him to do that, so it’s only exposing issues that were already there,” Piper said.

Annabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”

Piper shrugged and said, “Well, part of it is that Percy is stupidly empathetic, so he would anticipate your emotional needs and provide for them with you having to do much. The bigger problem is that you don’t really understand the way he thinks, so you are incapable of doing the same for him.”

A spark of anger lit in Annabeth’s chest. “Well, why don’t you spell it out for me since I’m apparently so ignorant?”

“Annabeth, chill. I’m not saying you’re a bad friend or that I know more about him than you do,” Piper said, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Then what are you saying?” Annabeth hissed.

Piper sighed again and said, “Look, I love you and everything, but you don’t fully understand that other people don’t think or see the world in the same way you do. I’ll give you an example. What do you usually do when you’re really upset about something?”

After a moment, Annabeth said, “I give myself some space until I am ready to talk about it.”

“Exactly,” Piper said, nodding. “Percy is not like that. When he’s upset, he wants someone to press him about it, like really press him. There are a lot of reasons for it, but one huge reason is that he doesn’t feel like his problems are worth anyone else’s attention, so you have to convince him otherwise.”

Annabeth was stunned. That had legitimately never occurred to her. She had always assumed that Percy would come to her if he needed to because that’s what she did whenever she was upset. She whenever she had given him space in the past, thinking it would help, it had looked like callous silence to him instead, a sign that she didn’t care enough to hear what was going on.

Her mind raced. How many times in the past had she fucked up monumentally because this had never occurred to her?

“Do you get what I mean now?” Piper prompted.

Annabeth nodded slowly and said, “I- I had no idea. I just sort of assumed he was like me.”

“That’s a perfectly normal thing to do,” Piper said. “Like I said earlier, I’m not telling you this because I think you’re a shitty human being or whatever. I’m telling you because the way that you and Percy communicate has some really deep, fundamental issues, and that it has been that way for years now.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Annabeth asked, trying not to let anger creep in her voice. “I could have done so much more to avoid hurting him.”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened to me,” Piper said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Your relationship with Percy is something sacred to you. You take pride in being close to him and knowing him really well. If I had said something contrary to that, you would have gone ballistic. You getting mad earlier was more than enough proof of that. I can only tell you now because you’re finally starting to notice issues for yourself.”

Annabeth grit her teeth and stared down at her lap. Piper was right. She was right, but it was so crippling to hear that Annabeth had been such a god-awful friend. Annabeth did take great pride in how well she thought she knew Percy, but ever since they had started fake-dating, she had started realizing she had deluded herself the entire time. It was incredibly jarring for her to realize that her vision of him compared to reality was so off, especially when she prided herself in the keenness of her judgment and intellect.

Piper squeezed her shoulder and said, “Look, I know this must have been a lot for you to hear, but you’re not alone. Almost everyone has trouble seeing people distinctly, as they are. People like Percy who do it naturally are the rare ones.”

“Then what should I do?” Annabeth asked tersely. “I feel so stuck.”

“Don’t assume so much. If you’re upset, tell him. If you want him to open up, ask him to. The only way to know what’s on his mind is to ask him. You don’t have to try so hard to read his mind for him,” Piper explained.

Annabeth nodded curtly and said, “I’m just so mad at myself.”

“I get it, but it’s not all on you. Percy also shoulders some responsibility, but it’s hard to blame him. Lord knows how much he has done for us,” Piper mused. “Besides, he has his own issues that he needs to deal with.”

“I-I’ll do what I can,” Annabeth said.

“If it’s you, I think you can do it,” Piper said, smiling softly.

As nice as it was to hear that, Annabeth had no self-confidence in her ability to be a good friend, not anymore. Still, Piper was right. Percy had done so much for her. If this could help him somehow, then she was determined to do her best.

After a few more minutes of silence, Piper said, “We should probably get back to the project.”

Annabeth smiled despite herself and feigned wiping a tear from her eye. “I never thought I’d live to hear the day you’d say that.”

:::

In keeping with tradition, Annabeth still somehow managed to find a way to be late to the State Swimming Championship. It was held at a neighboring high school not far from Westwood, but she had stayed up all night the day before painting a sign for Percy, which led to her sleeping through her alarm. She had brushed her teeth and taken as quick a shower as she possibly could before dashing out of her house, sign tucked beneath her arm.

By the time she made it inside, the first heat was already over. Annabeth scanned the bleachers and found all her friends sitting next to Sally. She took the steps three at a time and took a moment to catch her breath before she took a seat between Sally and Piper.

“Where’s Estelle?” Annabeth asked.

“Paul took her to go back some snacks at the concession stand. How have you been, dear?” Sally asked.

“I’m good. School is getting busy, but I’m getting by,” Annabeth said. “How’s Percy doing?”

“He seemed ready. Cautious, but focused,” Sally said.

“That’s good to hear,” Annabeth said.

Estelle and Paul returned with bags of snacks for everyone. They passed them around to all of Percy’s friends and squeezed past to sit next to Sally. Estelle was thrilled to see Annabeth and threw her arms around her neck.

“Annabeth!” Estelle squealed.

Annabeth laughed and hugged her back. “How have you been, Stella?”

“Good! I just lost a tooth last night. See?” Estelle said, giving Annabeth a toothy smile.

“Wow, did you get a visit from the tooth fairy?” Annabeth asked.

Estelle nodded vigorously. “I got five whole dollars!”

“What are you going to spend it on?”

“She used her money to buy snacks for everyone,” Paul interjected.

“Daddy!” Estelle huffed.

Paul held his palms up in surrender. “Oh, sorry, she told me not to tell anyone about that.”

“Thanks, Stella!” Annabeth said, smiling. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” Paul said proudly. “It’s the Jackson genes, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, hush,” Sally said, though she looked pleased anyways.

Paul grinned at her and turned to Annabeth. “It’s been a while since we have had time to catch up, Annabeth. I heard you got into Berkeley! That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, thank you,” Annabeth said, hiding a smile.

“It’s a wonderful school. I’m sure you’ll love it,” Paul said.

Annabeth was about to thank him, but they were interrupted by an announcement that the next heat was to begin for men’s free style. The State tournament was different compared to other tournaments held during the regular season. There would be a preliminary round of ten heats of six swimmers each, and then the top six swimmers would be selected based off their times to participate in a final round. The winner of the final would win the entire competition. It was therefore possible to have the best time in the prelims and still lose if someone placed higher than you in the last round. Annabeth had never been a fan of the way the tournament was run, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Percy was going to be in the penultimate heat, so there was still time before he participated. In fact, he wasn’t even out of the locker room yet. Annabeth knew that he was staying inside to maintain his focus until the start of his heat. She recognized one of his teammates that was in the next heat, so she paid attention to him even though it was hard to feel interested.

After the heat began, Annabeth was once again reminded of how much fiercer the competition was at State compared to the other meets. Percy hadn’t competed against many of the swimmers here because they lived on the other side of the state. It might have been a function of the fact that it was her first time seeing some of them, but the competition looked stronger this year than it had in previous ones. They were so skilled that Annabeth wasn’t sure Percy was a shoe-in for first like she had initially thought.

There was one swimmer in particular from the sixth heat, Castellan, that was particularly scary. The effortless, graceful way he swam reminded her a lot of Percy’s form, and he managed to win his heat by a wide margin. She had never seen him before in any of the other meets or from previous years either. He must have moved to the State sometime this season. Nevertheless, it sowed a seed of worry in her mind that continued to take deeper root even after his heat ended.

Eventually, Percy finally made his way out when his heat was announced. Annabeth was relieved to see the familiar cold intensity on his face that she was accustomed to. After the last meet, she had been afraid that his focus would still be shaky when State finally rolled around, but instead Percy looked more focussed now than she had ever seen him before. Everything about him gave off the impression that he was going to win.

When his heat finally began, Percy dove into the water clinically and quickly pulled ahead of the competition. Annabeth and the rest of their friends cheered loudly for him as he touched off the other side of the pool, almost a full body’s length ahead of the person in second. The rest of the race only solidified Percy’s lead as he pulled further and further ahead.

Once he touched the opposite wall, Percy burst out of the water and took a moment to catch his breath, but then he looked over to the opposite end of the pool and pressed his lips in a thin line. Annabeth was confused at first because his time was fantastic, and he had done so well in his heat, but then she realized his time had been slower than that swimmer from the sixth heat. Although it wasn’t an indication of how the finals would go, it was still damaging to realize that someone had done better than you in the prelims.

Annabeth worried her lip and turned to Piper when she felt her hand on her shoulder. “Why does he look so annoyed?” Piper whispered.

“That guy from the sixth heat, Castellan, had a better time than he did,” Annabeth muttered.

Piper blinked and looked back down at Percy. “Wait, really?”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. It’s not the end of the world or anything, but it’s gonna pile some extra pressure onto his shoulders.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jason ventured, from beside Piper. “If he keeps his cool, he can put up a good fight. Besides, I don’t think their times were off by a lot.”

“True,” Annabeth agreed. “It would have been a lot worse if it was a blowout.”

“There’s a break before the finals start right?” Hazel asked, speaking across from Jason.

Piper looked at the meet schedule and nodded. “Yeah, there’s a half hour to give the competitors from the later heats time to rest before the finals.”

“Should we go see him or something?” Hazel asked.

Jason shook his head and said, “No, there’s a chance that we just make him lose focus. Besides, there nothing we can really say to help him.”

“Well, that fucking sucks,” Rachel huffed.

Hazel nudged Rachel with her elbow and whispered, “Don’t swear! Estelle is here.”

Rachel winced and said to Sally, “Sorry, Mrs. Jackson.”

Sally gave her a mischievous smile and said, “You should be, dear.”

That got a laugh out of all of them, much to Estelle’s confusion. They talked amongst themselves during the break before Annabeth realized she needed to run to the bathroom. Annabeth wasn’t gone long, but on her way back, she ran into someone walking the other way.

“Ouch.”

Annabeth stumbled back and rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry, are you okay?”

“Oh, hey, look who it is,” Percy said, smiling down at her.

“Oh, hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “I was just coming back from the bathroom.”

Percy laughed and said, “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

There was an awkward pause where Annabeth debated if she should continue talking to him or if that would break his focus. His body language was relaxed, but Annabeth could tell that there was some tension in his shoulders. The way he lingered there gave her the impression that he wanted to talk to her, so she figured it was alright to say something.

“How are you doing?”

Percy coughed and looked away surreptitiously. “Fine.”

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t look fine to me.”

Percy blinked like he was surprised she had called him out. In the past, Annabeth would have ignored the signs under the assumption that he didn’t want to talk about it, but after her conversation with Piper, she didn’t want to keep making those mistakes anymore.

Eventually, Percy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you get a chance to see that Castellan guy from the sixth heat?”

Annabeth nodded and said, “Yeah, he seemed pretty good.”

“His time was pretty insane,” Percy said slowly. “Better than my PR.”

“It wasn’t that far off though,” Annabeth said, leaning against the wall.

Percy rubbed his chin. “That’s true.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you don’t think you can beat him,” Annabeth said softly.

Percy looked up at her abruptly with wide eyes. “Uh...”

“Guilty as charged, huh?”

There was a pause before Percy laughed humorlessly and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Usually, I never think about that sort of thing at meets. I’m only focused on doing my best. But now, I can’t help wondering if my best would even be enough.”

“I wish I could be super peppy and say that it definitely is, but I’ve had those thoughts too many times to say that to you. It would feel fake and you’d know it,” Annabeth started.

“That’s not exactly making me feel better,” Percy joked half-heartedly.

“Shut up, I was getting to it,” Annabeth said, knocking elbows with him.

Percy made a show of rubbing his elbows, which made her roll her eyes before she continued.

“Remember how you told me after the invitational that I had to believe that I hadn’t hit my limit yet, that I could still do better? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, and I’m realizing that you were right. I’m killing any chance of improving if I believe it can’t be done. At the end of the day, I still want to keep competing, so I might as well believe in myself and keep trying.”

Percy was silent at this, so Annabeth continued. “My point is, you’ve gotta have faith in yourself. If that guy is better than you, make him prove it. Don’t do that work for him. You’re an insanely good swimmer. I know you can beat him. That’s not me saying that as a friend, but as another athlete. I know you have what it takes. Only question is: do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t think I’m good,” Percy said. “If it was just me, I wouldn’t be so worried, but so many people have put so much effort and faith in me that I can’t let them down. Like, I’ve always disappointed people, all my life, and there’s a voice in my head that tells me this time won’t be any different.”

“Fuck everyone else,” Annabeth said vehemently. “The people that care about you just want you to try your best.”

When Percy remained silent, Annabeth framed his face with her hands and forced him to meet her eyes. “Listen to me: all you have to do is go out there and swim. Nothing else matters. Okay?”

Percy was quiet for a while before he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“You got this,” Annabeth said, squeezing his shoulders. “Give ‘em hell, Perce.”

“I will. Thanks, Annabeth,” Percy said, smiling. “I’ll see you after the finals are over?”

“I thought that went without saying,” Annabeth grinned. “There’s a chocolate milkshake from Martha’s with your name on it, after all.”

“Finally, something worth fighting for,” Percy sighed melodramatically.

Annabeth laughed and pushed him towards the locker room. “Alright, get going, champ. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Percy took a deep breath to steel himself and gave her one final nod before he made for the locker rooms. Annabeth waited for him to leave before she headed back to the bleachers. Piper gave her a questioning look as she sat down, as if to ask what took her so long, but Annabeth shrugged and remained silent.

The participants of the final heat left the locker room shortly after and stood in front of the pool. Percy’s lane was in the middle, right next to Castellan, from the sixth heat, but he looked composed and concentrated.

The swimmers stepped onto the diving boards and took their starting positions, bodies taut with anticipation. At the official’s whistle, they all dove into the water in unison. Percy and the other boy both quickly pulled ahead of the other four swimmers, but Percy lagged behind him ever so slightly. Annabeth leaned forward, forgetting to cheer, and worried her lower lip. She could tell Percy was trying to surge ahead of Castellan, but no matter what he did, the distance continued to remain unclosed for the first hundred meters.

Before they both touched off the wall for the final fifty meters, Percy seemed to lag further behind than he had all race. Annabeth’s heart sank, but somehow Percy surged forward on the last twenty meters and managed to pull alongside Castellan. At the end of the race, it was too close to tell who had won because they both appeared to finish at the same time.

Annabeth whipped towards the board on the far end of the pool and waited for the times to show, heart thundering in her chest. The subsequent seconds stretched like an eternity, but then numbers suddenly flickered on the board. It took Annabeth a second to process the results, but once she did, her heart soared in her chest.

Percy had won, but it had been unbelievably close.

Immediately, she looked back down for Percy and noticed the incredulous look on his face. It took his teammates tackling him for him to realize that he had won, a dumbfounded smile blossoming across his face. Annabeth clasped her hands in front of her mouth and tried to ignore the way her face hurt from smiling so hard. She could hear Piper and the rest of her friends going crazy beside her, but the noise felt distant like sound traveling through water.

They all made their way down to him, and Estelle and Paul were the first to speak to him before Sally pulled him into a fierce hug with misty eyes. After that, Piper jumped on his back and cheered while Jason congratulated him. Rachel and Hazel went next, followed by Frank and Leo, and through it all, Annabeth watched off to the side and tried not to tear up.

She felt so incredibly proud of him. All those years of grueling practice, nights spent staying late to get in extra laps at the pool, managing the pressure of his captaincy - all of it had paid off in the end, and she was so happy it had. He deserved all of it.

Finally, Percy locked eyes with her and slipped out of the arms of their other friends and wordlessly opened his arms. Annabeth didn’t even realize she was moving until she tackled him in a hug. He was still sopping wet from the race, so her shirt got wet but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Annabeth buried her face in the crook of his neck and squeezed Percy as tightly as she could.

It was hard to say how long they stayed like that, but eventually, she pulled away from his arms and looked up at him with a stupid grin on her face. “You did it! I’m so happy for you!”

Percy offered her an incredulous smile. “Somehow.”

“Shut up, you deserved to win. One hundred percent,” Annabeth said, poking his chest.

Percy’s ears turned red, and he tried to look away from her. “It was all thanks to a certain someone’s pep talk.”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” Annabeth said, but her heart felt ten times larger in her chest anyways.

“Seriously, I was really freaking out,” Percy said earnestly. “So thank you. Seriously.”

Annabeth bit back a smile. “You’re welcome. Seriously.”

“You never make things easy for me, do you,” Percy said, sighing melodramatically.

“Of course not,” Annabeth said. “I thought you would have figured that out after all these years.”

Percy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a slow learner.”

“At least you’re not a slow swimmer,” Annabeth teased.

Percy rolled his eyes and said, “So what next? Martha’s?”

“You sure you want to celebrate with me and not your family?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Percy laughed. “I know they’ll monopolize me later today. But first, I want that chocolate milkshake you promised me.”

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to get carried away by what he was saying. Still, she couldn’t help the feeling of exhilaration washing over her.

“Alright, Martha’s it is,” Annabeth said. “Go finish your shower and get dressed. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Percy nodded and left to tell his family their plans and to say goodbye to the rest of their friends, who were getting ready to leave. Piper gave her a knowing look on her way out, but Annabeth made a show of pointedly ignoring her.

A short while later, Percy met her at the entrance to the parking lot, his hair still wet from the shower. They drove to Martha’s in silence, only accompanied by the feeble radio in her dad’s car. The sun was just beginning to set, diffusing pink and blue across the spread of the horizon. At that proximity, Percy smelled distractingly of body wash, making Annabeth’s face prickle.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” Percy said, breaking the silence.

Annabeth glanced at him. “Hmm?”

“What you told me really helped,” Percy said.

“You’re being too nice,” Annabeth said.

“No, seriously, I was pretty sure I was gonna lose. Like on the last hundred meters, I kept thinking that it was only natural that I would let everyone down again, but then I heard your voice in my head, saying ‘All you have to do is go out there and swim’. I don’t know how or why, but that got me out of my own head and helped me win,” Percy explained.

Annabeth’s throat was dry. “I’m, uh, glad it helped.”

She caught his soft smile in the mirror. “Yeah, me too.”

“It’ll be your turn in April,” he said. “You’ll win State too, and then I’ll have to be the one buying milkshakes next time around.”

“Damn straight,” Annabeth said. “I can’t rest until I kick Reyna’s ass.”

“I can’t tell if you hate her or adore her,” Percy said, smirking.

“A little of both,” Annabeth admitted. “People that have never lost once in their lives piss me off, but Reyna’s a good person and fun to be around.”

“I did beat her at the batting cages,” Percy pointed out.

“Doesn’t count unless I’m the one doing it,” Annabeth said, shaking her head.

Percy’s grin grew wider before he turned away from her, making Annabeth scowl. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just thought that was a very ‘Annabeth’ thing to say,” Percy said, shrugging.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Percy said, still grinning.

“Asshole,” Annabeth huffed.

There was a lull in the conversation while Annabeth began to turn something over in her mind. At first, it had seemed like a stupid idea, but the more that she thought about it, the more she wanted to go for it.

“H-Hey, I know you said you’d get me a milkshake if I won and all, but is it cool if I ask for something else instead?” Annabeth asked, fingers curling tighter around the steering wheel.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.”

“Shut up, I’m being serious,” Annabeth laughed.

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Percy said, shrugging. “What did you want instead?”

Annabeth swallowed and said, “I’ll let it be a surprise for now. Just promise not to chicken out when the time comes.”

“You’re not gonna ask me to like run around school naked or something right?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth barked a laugh. “Tempting, but no.”

Percy hummed to himself for a while before he sighed and said, “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to trust you not to make me do something embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry so much. I promise it’s not that bad. Just wanted to ask you something. Besides, there’s no guarantee that I’ll even win, after all,” Annabeth said.

Percy yawned and curled up in his seat and closed his eyes. “I don’t know, I’m pretty certain you’ll win.”

Annabeth glanced at him. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Dunno, I just believe in you,” Percy said simply.

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and resisted the urge to tell him that he was making a mistake. Honestly, she didn’t think she had a snowball’s chance in hell of beating Reyna at State, but she would still try her best to repay Percy’s faith in her. As a fellow athlete, he wouldn’t say something like that just to be nice. If he thought she had a shot, then maybe he was seeing something in her that she couldn’t.

The sky continued to darken, and Annabeth found herself thinking that even if she couldn’t believe in herself, maybe she could believe in how much Percy believed in her instead.

#just practice #percabeth fake dating au #percabeth #percabeth fic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #i'm really happy with this chapter #hopefully people think the character work is as nuanced as it feels to me #i will give u my first born if you comment and reblog

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Promise: Izzy Gallagher

CW: Neglectful/abusive parent, minor whump (emotional/neglect, nothing physical happens here), referenced implied shock collar (on adult), whumpee’s child, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, isolation as punishment, referenced food control

@eatyourdamnpears, you asked for this, remember that. Also, I promise I’m going somewhere with this, she’s gonna get her crowning moment of badass.

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with their permission, his dialogue is theirs

“Your daughter has such lovely hair.”

The little girl sits tall in her mother’s lap, hands folded, breathing in silent shallow inhales and holding perfectly still as her mother’s cold hand turns her head to the side by a grip on her chin, to show off the style that had taken what felt like forever and ever to finish.

“Doesn’t she just? I mean, it’s clear where she gets it, don’t you think?” Her mother’s voice is bright and slightly brittle, a little less than thrilled with the compliment aimed at the girl and not the mother whose genetics provided the curl, the texture, the thickness.

“Oh, definitely. You made such beautiful children with your husband, Sav, and Isabella is such a lovely example.”

Savvie relaxes a little, but the little girl knows her mother’s mood isn’t entirely placated, her fingernails still press just a little too harshly into the little girl’s softly rounded face, still losing her toddler puppyfat, just starting to narrow to show an edge of her father’s looks married to her mother’s.

She keeps herself sitting straight, tries to pretend there is a metal stick up her back to hold her like this, and waits for the anger, the snapping words. Not until this woman leaves, though. Only when it’s just Savvie and Jax and the little girl and her brother that the worst parts happen.

Maybe the woman will stay a long time. They never do, but maybe this time.

“Was your hair like this when you were young?”

“Oh, yes.” Savvie twines one of the little girl’s curls around her finger, with pastel purple nail polish that glints in the light, and the little girl presses her top teeth down into the soft skin of her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

Her hair spills in a waterfall of lush dark brown, the kind of hair that overwhelms a child, her mother's hair. It's already long enough to reach the middle of her back, carefully styled with the front and sides pulled back and twisted into a floral clip. My mother - your grandmother, darling, you never met her - brought this back from Italy when I was your age, her mother had said with sparkling eyes as she fixed the little girl's hair into place.

It hurts, the way her mother pulls on her hair when she styles it. Her scalp aches from the brushing with hard bristles, the scratch of nails at her scalp, the pulling and twisting and bobby pins and the clip. Her mother is impatient, unhappy with how she wriggles when she has to sit so long.

Her father, banished to the corner of the room while Savvie works, had jerked forwards when Savvie snapped at her for moving and said, Savvie, please, she can’t help it, she’s four-

Then Savvie had fixed him with a glare, and her father had gone still and made himself sit down, and the little girl had apologized so that he wouldn’t be disciplined because of her, and she had held so so still and kept her eyes locked on her father’s hands, curled into fists over his knees, the only sign of the anger he wasn’t allowed to feel.

The little girl is four years old, and already knows better than to let her mother see that anything she does hurts - except for discipline, which is supposed to.

When Savvie and her guest keep chatting about the little girl’s waves of curly brown hair, she doesn’t wriggle, or shift, or move at all. She only allows her head to be turned, sitting perfectly still in her lap, a slight, faint smile fixed on her face.

She has learned how her smile should look from her father, who knows just how to keep them as safe as he can.

When her chin is moved to the left, so that the woman might admire the beautiful floral clip that looks like stained-glass against a creamy white background, set off by the dark of her hair, she is made to look right at her father.

He’s busy getting the tiny cakes and sandwiches ready for her mother and her mother's friend to eat, pouring their champagne and orange juice into fancy tall glasses, settling a small orange slice just so along the rim. His hair is styled, too, with some kind of product in it to fall a little bit over his forehead and one eye, and he wears a dark blue turtleneck sweater - they call them jumpers where her dad is from, he tells her that during their times alone when they can share secrets, in the single room in the house where her mother never follows - and pressed slacks. Her mother picks their clothes for when people come, for her, and her father.

Her mother chooses everything, overwhelms her, is the terrifying center of all of her fears. Her mother is the storm that knocks down tree branches and the snow that makes the house creak as it piles up. She's the wind that sounds like ghosts whistling through the attic. Her mother is the sharp fangs and claws that reach out from her dark closet, from the space under her bed, while she is left alone all night with no one but her teddy bear to hold onto.

It’s only in her father that the little girl finds hope. And even he can't give her anything until Savvie's storms have passed.

She watches his hands move, scarred and roughly calloused hands that have laid gentle against her forehead to check for fevers and held her tight when she has bad dreams, to set each small bite-sized morsel just how Savvie will like it. He’s not really looking, though. His eyes are on her, on the little girl, and not her mother, or her mother’s fancy cakes.

Save me, the little girl tries to beg with just her eyes alone, without losing the small smile, but she knows he can’t do anything, not really. If he tries, especially in front of guests, her mother will demand he get down on his knees for discipline.

He’ll try to hide how much the big black necklace he has to wear hurts him when she presses the button to the remote she always wears around her wrist.

He won’t be able to hide how it hurts for long.

It’ll be her fault, too. If her mother has to punish him for wanting to help. The little girl is always told that it’s her fault after he is shaking on the ground, made to say she’s sorry. She dreams about her father in trouble, getting disciplined, because of her.

Because it happens all the time.

So she folds her hands together even more tightly, until it hurts, and keeps her smile perfectly in place, watching her father look back at her, both of them utterly helpless.

All he does is swallow beneath the big black necklace, and keep moving the little cakes onto the special fine china plates, scalloped edges with pretty gold paint flowers in their middles.

The little girl loves the way the fancy plates look, but she is not allowed to touch them. When her father sets the plates down, one in front of her mother and one in front of her mother’s guest, she knows better than to reach for a tiny cake herself.

"Bella, you should tell Miss Gladia thank you for saying such nice things, sweetheart." Her mother’s voice is sickly-sweet, fake with love she doesn’t really feel, and the little girl turns back to the guest who sits across the table and wonders what she said that was so nice.

She can’t let her mother find out she wasn’t listening, or she will be disciplined again, or her father will, and both of those possibilities are terrifying and bad and she has to be a better child, make it better, be perfect, be good. She has to be perfect all the time, forever, she can never ever stop or he will be hurt, because of her.

Again.

Her fingers tremble and she forces them to go still by closing them into tiny fists where they can’t be seen, just like her father does. Be perfect be perfect be perfect be perfect be-

“Thank you, Miss Gladia, that’s very kind,” She says in her high piping voice, widening her smile a little to show how grateful she is, pretending she has any idea what either of them said with all her hope and heart. Praying her mother believes that she means it.

She watches her father place the guest’s plate down across the little circular table, how he doesn’t look at her. It’s too dangerous, she knows that, for him to show that he loves her in front of her mother. Too dangerous, at least, when her mother is pretending to love her, too.

He can’t help, but he’s here, and that makes it a little bit better.

She can smell, just a little, the cologne her father has to wear when her mother says so, blending with her mother’s overwhelming perfume, making her head spin and her stomach flip. She doesn’t want to eat, but her mother rewards her for saying the right thing by finger-feeding her a bite of one of the tiny cakes.

She can’t say she doesn’t want them, she doesn’t dare. Instead, she opens her mouth and bites down, feeling the burst of sugar-sweet and slight press of teeth through thick frosting layered over in pastel pinks and creams, little sugar flower on top crunching between top and bottom teeth.

She tries to enjoy it, but everything just tastes like being afraid.

“Thank you, Mommy,” She says, and Savvie laughs like it’s so ridiculous that she’s so polite, but if she doesn’t say it now she’ll be in trouble later.

“Bella, what good manners you have,” Miss Gladia says, and the girl smiles like she’s embarrassed and looks down, shy, as she is fed another bite. Her hands hurt in her palms from her fingernails digging in. “You’re doing such a good job with her, Sav.”

“Oh, I hardly have to do a thing,” Savvie says brightly. “Bella really just came out like this, she hardly ever cried even as a baby.”

The little girl doesn’t tell them that she hates being called Bella, it doesn’t feel like her name at all. When she and her father are alone, he calls her Izzy, and she likes that best. Izzy is a safe name, Izzy is a girl who is safe in the bright room with her father telling her their secret stories about the life he lived before, a whole big world the little girl will never be allowed to see, making promises the little girl already knows he can’t keep.

Izzy is the safe girl - Bella is the girl who must walk on ice that cracks beneath her feet, knowing if it breaks she won’t be the one who falls in. Her father will.

“Oh, you must be so proud of her,” Miss Gladia says, and takes a drink of the fizzy orange juice that the little girl can’t have because it has champagne in it, which is a grown-up drink that spark and fizzes and pops when her father opens it in the kitchen, the cork bouncing off the ceiling or wall, and she and her father sometimes feel safe enough to laugh, there.

Sometimes. If her mother is far enough away in the house that she won’t hear them.

“Well, I am, of course,” Savvie says, waving one hand to dismiss the thought. She takes a drink of her own special grown-up orange juice and neither of them offers the little girl anything. Her plastic sippycup is somewhere else in the house. It ruins the look of the table, Savvie said earlier. She will be thirsty until she’s allowed to leave the room.

Her tongue sticks thick to the roof of her mouth from the sugar and dense cake. She feels the need to wriggle, to shift, growing inside of her and has to quash it down, breathing a little bit faster, trying to keep it so silent that her mother will be too distracted to notice. She tries to focus on her hands, the only part of her that is free to move, squeezing them tight and relaxing and then squeezing again.

“... or I would be,” Savvie corrects, one hand on the little girl’s back. It looks like affection - it’s a promise, a threat, a danger. The little girl straightens her spine even more, until her back hurts, and she doesn’t say a thing. “If she didn’t have the worst tin ear.”

“Oh, really?” Miss Gladia sighs and shakes her head. “That is disappointing, coming from such a musical family.”

“Must have gotten it from her father,” Savvie says, long-suffering, and the little girl feels the tiniest bloom of warmth inside of her, that there is any part of her that is her father’s, and not her mother’s. Any part at all. “When I was four I was already able to play anything easy, really, and practicing five days a week. My daughter can’t even do a scale. Believe me, I have tried. She’s honestly been a bit of a disappointment from day one. No amount of encouragement has helped.”

The little girl thinks of her mother screaming at her to try harder, her tiny fingers fumbling and dropping the violin, wailing with fear at the rage in her mother’s face.

“I mean, you’d think she is choosing to be bad at music on purpose, some days.”

She’s scared of music, now. She is choosing to be bad at it on purpose.

The little girl remembers the discipline after she dropped the violin (it was an accident, she didn’t mean to, only she was just scared). She’s too scared to even touch the violin now, or the big piano in another room, she shakes and cries and her mother finally stopped trying.

She can’t make herself safe - but she can hide this one small thing, and that’s a little bit safer, even if it’s not very much.

Remembering, she has to blink back the threat of tears. Tears are even worse than being ungrateful. She can’t let the guest see them, she can’t.

"Oh, sweetie, are you all right?"

The little girl's stomach drops, and she tries to will the tears in her eyes away, but it’s no use - her mother’s finger and thumb grip her chin tight enough to pinch as her head is turned for Savvie’s inspection, her bright eyes roaming over her daughter’s face, seeing the glimmer, the flush, the way she is biting on her lip to hide how they tremble.

“Are you crying, Bella?” Savvie asks, and her voice is mild, but the little girl can hear the threat there, anyway, the coldness underneath. So can her father - she can see him, in the corner of her eye, go suddenly still where he was moving to clear the serving trays away and back to the kitchen. “Why would you be crying, lovie?”

Love in all its forms is a bad word. Lovie is the name for when the little girl is bad, I love you is what her mother says before she makes her father scream his apologies and what she says while petting his hair afterward and making him let her hold him until his shaking stops. You’re so loved is what she whispers when her hands close tight around Izzy in what she thinks is a hug.

Now that the tears are here, they won’t be stopped, and she shudders as they run down still-chubby cheeks and drip to leave watermarks on her pretty silk dress. Her breath hitches in her desperate attempt to hold them back, and her hands are fisted into the silk until her palms burn with pain from her fingernails and still she can’t stop.

“I-I don’t know, M-Mommy, I thought-... ab-about something sc-scary is all, is-... I’m s-sorry, I thought about a movie, scar-... scary movie-”

She and her father have talked about what to say, practiced it - make it my fault, keep yourself safe - and the words fall off her tongue like she means them and for a second she thinks her mother will calm. The press of her hand on the little girl’s back lightens, and she smiles, and her eyes twinkle, so big and bright, and the black parts in the center are so small.

“Well, Daddy shouldn’t be letting you watch those, should he?” She asks, playfully teasing, and looks up to her friend. “Honestly, what was he thinking?”

“Who knows?” Miss Gladia laughs, and her voice is kind, but the little girl hates her for seeing her tears, for making her have to tell the lie.

Then her mother’s eyes fall to the spots on her dress caused by her tears, and the hand on her back is suddenly pressing hard again. “Bella, what did you do?” Savvie keeps her voice light, airy, hardly bothered, but it’s a trick and the little girl’s eyes go wide to her father, who stands silent, watching them. She wants to see that he will save her.

She knows already that he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” She tries again, sometimes if she can apologize fast enough the danger passes, like a cloud moving away from the sun. This time, though, her mother’s smile stays brittle and she is bundled into Savvie’s arms as she stands.

“I’ll just take her to change and have some time elsewhere while we finish our visit. Do you mind waiting here for just a second, Gladia?”

“Of course not, Sav. I’ve plenty of mimosas and I have a phone, I’ll be fine.” Miss Gladia laughs and waves them away, and Savvie holds the little girl so tightly she aches as she carries her out of the room.

Why doesn’t anyone ever notice that she’s scared of her mother? If they notice, why don’t they care? Her cousins aren’t scared of their parents, they fight and throw fits while the little girl sits silent, watching them.

The difference is only that her father has the big black necklace, and none of theirs do. It’s the difference between being safe to have feelings and having to watch each and every one to make sure it’s only ever perfect.

The little girl is good; she doesn’t start to cry again until they reach the second floor, where the bedrooms are, and she realizes what her punishment will be.

“Savvie-” She raises her head, eyes streaming tears, to see her father following on her mother’s heels, his eyes locked on her even as he says her mother’s name. “Savvie, don’t, it’s not her fault, I can-... I know how to f-fix it-”

“You can’t get a water stain out of silk. Honestly, crying in front of guests, Bella, what is wrong with you?” Savvie’s voice is sharp, now that Miss Gladia is out of earshot. “Jax, get something for her to wear when she comes out of time-out.”

The little girl panics, then, wriggling to try and escape her mother’s arms, only to feel them tighten around her until it feels like metal closing around over her ribs. Her voice goes even higher-pitched, airy and breathless. “No, no, don’t put me in time out, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t do it please!”

“Every single word you say will only make me put you in time out for longer, Bella,” Savvie snaps, and the little girl falls into a wail she muffles by burying her face in her mother’s neck, solid as stone, no comfort to be found. “Jax, I said get her a change of clothes ready.”

“Yes, Savvie, but-... another dress for company, or-”

“No.” Savvie stops in front of a door, and it’s not the little girl’s bedroom door. She raises her teary head to blink, confused. It’s painted pale blue gray instead of the pastel pink of her own door, and Savvie pulls an old-fashioned key from her pocket and unlocks it, swinging it open.

“No,” The little girl whimpers. “Please, no.”

It’s the monster room - a huge old room full of furniture covered in big draping canvas cloth that looks like each is hiding something terrible underneath, the room the little girl is most afraid of. Heavy drapes keep out all the light but the tiniest sliver that cuts across the floor, and dust floats through the air.

The monster room is the worst room in the whole house, and it’s the only room she’s too scared of to go in there herself, and her mother knows it. She knows it, but the little girl wasn’t perfect this time, and she has to be disciplined if she isn’t perfect.

The little girl feels a new fresh burst of tears, lower lip trembling, and pulls in a breath just as Savvie says, “If you start crying again, Bella, I’ll leave you here all night.”

The little girl’s sob catches in the middle of her throat and she fights to swallow it, snapping her mouth closed and forcing her hands over it to press so hard her teeth ache, trying to tell herself she has to be brave. Brave and strong and not make much noise while she is hurting, like her father does. She sniffs hard, audibly hard, and slowly nods to show she’s listening, she’s trying, she can be good. “Yes, Mommy,” She whispers, an echo of her father’s eternal Yes, Savvie, which sometimes stops the violence.

“Savvie,” her father says from behind her, a new urgency in his voice. “Savvie, she can’t be left alone, n-not all night, she needs to eat.”

“There’s a bathroom in there and she’s potty-trained. If she cared so much about eating, she wouldn’t have embarrassed me in front of a guest.” Savvie carries her inside and the little girl is tense in her arms, clinging tightly to her terrifying mother and staring with giant desperate panicked eyes over the woman’s shoulder at her father, who wants to but cannot help her. “She should know better than to cry in front of guests. She can cry in here all she wants, nobody will hear it.”

“I will.”

“I’m not worried about that, you have work to do.” She pries the little girl’s arms off of her and drops her, unceremoniously, onto the dusty off-white cloth pulled over the bed. The girl whimpers as she hits the rough canvas and pulls herself up to curl into the tiniest ball she can manage, feeling horribly small, afraid, and alone, even before they’re gone.

“Pl-please don’t leave me,” She tries, in her smallest voice. “Mommy, please.”

Her mother’s eyes are cold and unfeeling when she spares the little girl a single final glance. “Don’t get tears on silk and I won’t,” Savvie says, and then points back out the door. “Go, Jax. I’ll let you know when you can come get her back out. Have her clothes ready.”

Her father looks at her, at the frightened child with her knees pulled up to her chin and ruffled ankle socks and patent leather shoes showing under the hem of her dress, tears making her face ruddy and shining, the wide eyes that beg him for some kind of saving, and then back at the woman who calls herself his wife. “Savvie, please, does she - does she have to be alone in here?”

“That’s the whole entire point, Jax. I said go.” Her mother’s voice switches from the cold hard edges to a sudden sweet softness, turning to slide arms around her father’s waist, leaning into him and nuzzling against his face, seeking a kiss. The genuine affection the girl is denied, her father receives, but he doesn’t relax. He allows it, that’s all. “She’ll be fine, sweetie. Besides, James’ll be up from his nap soon, don’t you want someone around to take care of him?”

The little girl isn’t old enough yet to understand that her mother is laying a new threat, to treat her little brother the same way she is treated. But she sees her father’s tension rise.

She can’t understand the unbearable, awful calculation he has to do, deciding which of them can handle her cruelty the best. It will be years before she can grasp how it must have felt for him, having to choose the infant who is utterly helpless over the daughter who has already learned to live in constant fear. She can’t understand, in this moment, that the torture that cuts deepest is how Savvie forces him to leave one to save the other, over and over again.

All she knows, then, is that he never seems to choose her. She can’t see that it’s not really a choice at all.

She only sees her father’s jaw set, his eyes lower, before he turns to her and says, gently, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Isabella,” and leaves, her mother right behind him. The key turns in the lock.

She is locked in the monster room, one tiny little girl, all alone.

She starts to cry in earnest once they are gone, wailing her fear and some small slim spark of anger that has yet to be extinguished. She screams and begs them to come back, promises to be so good, but no one comes back for her, and the shadows in the room have eyes.

This isn’t fair. She tried her hardest but she can’t be expected to never cry, and she leans over and smooths her skirt out and lets all her tears fall on the silk, ruining and ruining it.

She hates all her dresses, anyway. Dresses are stupid, another bad word she isn’t supposed to say, dresses are stupid and she hates them. They suck. They’re crap. They look stupid and she hopes all her dresses will get water stained and dirt-stained and gross.

The anger grows, a comforting flame to hold back the teeth and claws she is terrified of, and it takes over her tiny body.

She yanks the clip that holds her hair out and throws it as hard as she can, watches it bounce off the wall, throws her stupid shiny black shoes and balls up her socks to throw those and then she says every single curse word she’s ever heard her father say under his breath when her mother isn’t listening, and all the words he’s said in front of her, too.

She screams the words, until her throat aches, until her voice rasps, until her muscles are all standing out pressing on her bones, until she can’t hear her heart anymore, because the anger is bigger than her body, and her mother can’t hear her to punish her for feeling it.

Then, the anger is gone and she is still here, and she starts to cry again. The cloth sways like there are bodies underneath, whispering voices she can’t quite understand, and she is too scared to get down and feel the claws of something under the bed reaching out to pull her in.

Something creaks, like monster-steps, and she half-screams, but no one is coming. No one ever comes to help her, not until her mother thinks she’s sorry enough for whatever she’s done.

The little girl lays down on her side and makes herself very small and prays and prays and prays that she won’t be eaten by the monsters before time-out is over. Her body shakes with sobs and the canvas underneath her head grows damp with her tears.

Somewhere in her praying, she falls asleep.

The next thing she knows is drifting awake to find her father’s warm arms already holding her, her cheek resting on his shoulder, her forehead just touching the black nylon on the side of his neck. The sliver of light through the big dark drapes has gone golden and weak, as the sun starts to set. Her stomach feels empty and sick, and she sniffs as he walks back out into the hallway. “D-Dad-”

“It’s all right, Izzy,” He whispers, and she relaxes into the safe nickname. If he’s using it, it means Savvie isn’t here, or she’s far enough that she won’t overhear them. “It’s all right, it’s over.”

He doesn’t smell like cologne anymore. He must have scrubbed it off. He just smells like him, now, and the little girl, still half-asleep, smiles. She likes the way he smells, all on his own, just shampoo and laundry detergent and the only kind of love that’s safe.

“Sorry I was bad,” She mumbles, voice still slurred with sleepiness, and nuzzles into the big black necklace he wears around his neck, the one her mother uses to hurt him. She has never, in her whole life, seen him not wearing it. “I’m sorry, Dad. S-sorry I wasn’t good-”

“You’re perfect.”

Her father’s voice suddenly has an edge to it, a fierce insistence. His body shakes, muscles going tight and then relaxing. He must have made her mother mad, after she was locked in time out. Or maybe she had just wanted to hurt him for no reason - she does that sometimes, too. “D’you hear me, Izzy? You’re absolutely fucking perfect. She just can’t see it. She can’t-... see it. You did nothing wrong. I’ve got some-... some dinner for you, in your room, and James is in there with his blocks. Do you want to eat, play for a while before bed?”

Her stomach growls, answering for her, and she nods a little, sliding her arms up and around his neck. “Is-... is Mom gone?”

“She’s in her room. She won’t come and see you tonight.”

The little girl breathes a sigh of relief. She can just be Izzy, now, for the whole rest of the night until bedtime. If her mother doesn’t come see her, she can be safe, for just a little while, with her father and little brother, and she can pretend that’s all the family she has.

“I’ll be better next time, Dad, I promise.”

His voice is heavy with an emotion she isn’t old enough to understand as he answers, “You shouldn’t have to be, Izzy.”

“But I do have to be.” She sniffs a little, and flinches with instinctive fear at hearing herself make a sound her mother hates. Her father’s arms only tighten around her in response, and she reminds herself, heart pounding, that she’s safe, for now. “I try, Dad, I try to be a good kid, I do. I try so hard.”

“I know you do.” He kisses the top of her head, briefly coming to a standstill, his body still giving the occasional all-over shiver, what her mother calls ‘aftershocks’. “You try your hardest. But even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter, not to me. You’re good all the time.”

“I’m good?”

“Yeah, Izzy. You’re…” Her father sighs, and holds her so tight she almost can’t breathe, but unlike when her mother does it, when her father does she feels, for just a second, like nothing in the whole world can hurt her at all.

Her smile, hidden still against his neck, is wider than it ever is with anyone else.

“You’re the best. And I’m going to get you and your brother out of here. I promise.”

She doesn’t hear how carefully he promises to save her and her brother, but never promises to save himself, too.

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

#whump #child whumpee #child of whumpee #intimate whumper #food as control #shock collar #izzy fucking gallagher #I promise I love you Jax #isolation #captivity #family whump #is that a thing?#I just really like Izzy okay she goes through some shit but her last two pieces are just #triumphs over the first ones #you know what I mean?#like these first few are sad but they get better and she gets stronger #she grows up into a tour de force #but I wanted to showcase what she overcomes to get there

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hyunnielix · 5 years

Text

Fake Smile

During the current unsolved case, Y/N mysteriously vanishes forcing David to chose which is more important.

Pairing: Y/N x Detective Loki

Warnings: Prisoners Spoilers!, ANGST!, Fluff, Backstory?, Timeskips, kinda AU

Word Count: 2.2k

I won't say I'm feeling fine After what I been through, I can't lie Fuck a fake smile

You vividly remember the time he caught your eye, his darkened slicked back hair and distinctive warped version of a star tattoed on his neck that was nearly always covered by the collar of the shirts he wore. His build was somewhat muscular but complimented his height and he radiated dominance in his mannerisms. You observed his nervous facial tic which was yet another thing that interested you. His demeanour held something that drew you to gravitate towards him, curiosity and questions lingered in the back of your mind every time you saw him.

Luckily for you, he regularly visited the little Chinese restaurant you worked at, unfortunately, you usually had the day shifts meaning Mei your friend and co-worker served him during the night shifts.

“Y/N, it wouldn’t be a bother if you could possibly do the rest of the night shift tonight?” the raven-haired waitress called out as she began to hang up her apron, throwing her head over her shoulder with her brows furrowed awaiting your verbal response.

“I get it you have a family here, I understand it’s no problem,” You reassured her, your lips upturning into a weak smile as she mouthed many ‘thank you’s’ before collecting her bag and exiting through the doors and into the typical depressing weather of Pensylvania. The rain pattering against the windows was somehow relaxing, a nice contrast compared to the chaotic noise of the restaurant during the day.

The ear piercing ring of the irritating bell signalled the entrance of another customer, poking your head around the corner you tried to prevent a smile as you realised it was him.

“It’s on the house,” You murmured as you placed the last plate decorated with a cheesy fortune cookie on the white marble table in front of him.

“No one deserves to be alone on Thanksgiving,” You commented, leaning on one of the metal chairs as you peered down at the male who seemed to always captivate you.

“You are,” He observed, bringing the coffee cup up to his lips as his bright blue eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but take notice of the dark rings under them causing you to let out a sigh.

“Don’t have any family around these parts, I’m used to being alone doesn’t bother me really,” You responded a bit too quickly covering it up with a smile as he nodded, fascinated by your forwardness.

“Y/N,” You stuck your hand out, you’d noticed he wasn’t a big fan of physical affection so this would have to do for now.

“David,” He replied, his voice monotone as he pressed his lips into a line, gripping your hand shaking it politely.

Since then a friendship had blossomed between the both of you, always looking out for each other as if was like second nature and instinct.

The town had dubbed him the best detective for the sole reason of every case he had been assigned he’d closed. Although his occupation originally intrigued you, it was an outlet for his frustrations and internal demons, the violence you’d witnessed firsthand had frightened you to the core. It was almost as if Detective Loki and David were two entirely different entities altogether.

The new case he had been assigned was taking a toll on his physical and mental health, although he wouldn’t like to admit it he had a soft spot for children.

“Bob Taylor fucking killed himself under my surveillance,” The words fell off his tongue like venom as he paced around the living room, he was beyond stressed as you noticed his double blinking became more prominent when he was in a state like this.

“How did he do that, I thought he was in custody?” You questioned, tilting your head in confusion as you leant against the wall, arms folded over one another as you intently listened.

“It was my fault,” He admitted, shaking his head almost in disbelief before running his fingers through his longer slicked back hair in a defeated notion.

“All my fucking fault because my anger bested me and now those little girls are going to die because of me,” He raised his voice to the point that you were flinching from the harshness of his tone as he stood in front of you.

“You couldn’t have known the outcome stop being so hard on yourself, you can’t save everyone.” You tried to convince him reaching out for his shoulder, frowning at his self-hating tendencies.

“Who else do I blame,” He snapped, his fist colliding into the all just mere centimetres from your face causing your breath to hitch. Letting out shallow exhales, you began to feel your eyes water unsure of how to handle his aggressive outburst.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to-,” He profusely apologized shakily bringing his fist up to his mouth and cursing quietly under his breath turning around, you were the last person he’d want to scare away.

“C’mere,” You whispered softly enough for him to hear you, he turned his body to face you, his eyes glued to the ground as his chin trembled. Cupping under the side of his jaw, you brushed your thumb against his cheek trying to calm him down.

You wrapped your arms around his torso holding his body closer to yours, resting your hand on the back of his head comfortingly. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. You felt warm liquid dripping onto your shoulder, hearing the soft whimpers that left his lips completely broke you. You knew he was hurting and had trouble expressing his emotions but it’d never been this severe before.

“It’s going to be okay, you’ll figure it out you always do,” You reassured him as he pulled away, covering his face with the palms of his hands to recollect himself.

“But what If I don’t?” He asked, rendering you speechless as you tried to respond optimistically which was proving to be a harder task than usual.

A ringtone caught the attention of both of you, giving him a small nod dismissing him he quickly bolted out of the corridor and front door eventually towards his black car, phone held up to his ear in the process.

The last encounter you had with him was three days ago, you knew the vulnerability he showed you embarrassed him and the fact you brought that out in him terrified him. From what you could tell he was burying himself deeper in the case to avoid you which you didn’t blame him for.

They’d found one of the girls, Joy Birch but the Dover family’s daughter Anna was still reported missing according to the morning news you’d just happened to turn on coincidentally at the right time.

A weak knock on the door disturbed your concentration and train of thought as you mixed the tea mindlessly in a ceramic cup, placing the metallic spoon on the counter of the kitchen you strode towards the door hoping like hell it was David.

“Holly!” You were surprised to see the rather old woman as you opened the door, her frizzy grey hair and magnified glasses were her defining features that were prominently engraved into your mind, perks of having her as a neighbour.

“Y/N, sorry to intrude I just wanted to ask you a few questions about Alex,” She inquired, pushing her glasses up further on the bridge of her nose a sickly sweet almost fake-looking smile plastered on her face.

“Uh- Sure Ms, Jones,” You stuttered allowing her to pass you, closing the door after she’d walked in you felt a hard metal sensation at the back of your head realising it was the barrel of a gun you froze.

“It’ll hurt less if you don't move,” She explained, Sinking down onto your knees as you obeyed her non-verbal commands, she brushed your hair to the side exposing your neck.

“This should be just enough to knock you out,” She murmured as you saw the small syringe she was holding out of the corner of your eye. Dropping the gun she held your head in a lock position, injecting the black unidentifiable liquid into your bloodstream.

A feeling of nausea overtook your body, causing your eyelids to flutter shut against your will body crumbling into a heap on the ground.

“You’re too personally involved in this case detective, I think you need to sit on the sidelines for a while,” The chief explained lifting a glass to his mouth that was filled with a dark auburn liquid that could only be the distinctive alcoholic beverage whiskey due to its infiltrating smell, offering one to him as a polite gesture.

“No, sir you don’t fucking understand,” David cursed, standing up from out of the seat and towering his height over the chief intimidatingly, causing him to place down the second glass of poison for your liver.

“I will not stop until I find her, now are you willing to deploy your best officers or not?” He questioned rather confrontationally, pointing this finger onto the desk repeatedly to get the message across as he resisted the urge to blink again.

“Just be sure the little girl doesn’t get killed in doing so that’s if she’s still alive.” The chief taunted him, dismissing the detective from the short meeting that ended on a bittersweet note.

Dreading the information he had to give to Holly about her nephew Alex, he reiterated and rehearsed the particular words he was going to use as he reached the front door of the familiar house.

The iridescent moonlight that shone down momentarily distracted him from the fact that it was almost too quiet as he scanned his eyes around the property hesitating before deciding to press the doorbell, the obnoxious ringing of it almost deafening with the silence originally surrounding him.

Listening intently, what he could deduct as rustling around and movement in the house began to interest him more than it should.

“Miss Jones? You in there? He began to speak, voice starting off strong but ending in a whisper as he pushed the front door open easily, causing his suspicion to triple. A brief and almost faint noise that sounded remarkably like someone crying fully caught his attention.

“David! We’re in here,” You screamed muffled by the piece of cloth Holly had stuffed in your mouth, fighting against your gag reflex every time you attempted to open your mouth as warm liquid continually streaked down your cheeks unable to rid the shock out of your system.

“You little bitch,” Holly exclaimed referring to you, rushing to inject more of the deadly poison into the little lifeless girl's body beside you before yours.

Your eyes widened as your gaze fell on his shadow that seemed to be approaching the room silently, hearing a small exhale which you could only guess was him, he stepped into the doorway gun at the ready while his eyes focused on the scene unravelling before him.

”Stop, put it down!” He ordered, gun outstretched and pointed in her direction as she pulled out the half-emptied syringe and released her grasp on it, the small syringe collided with the floor causing a tiny clang.

“Make sure they cremate me. I don’t want to be buried in some box,” She commented, her gaze focused on yours a wicked smirk plastered on her face as she straightened up, still facing you.

”Turn around, show me your hands,” His tone was dead serious, adrenaline pumping through his system as he waited. Your eyes widened as you realised she was reaching in her pocket for the gun she threatened you with earlier.

“I will shoot her,” Holly threatened, pointing the gun at your head. The sound of guns firing sent electrical shocks through your body, eyes clenched shut as a bullet buried itself in the wooden planks beside you. What sounded like a body hitting the ground prompted you to open them.

“Requesting backup to the Jones's house,” He muttered, momentarily forgetting the address which caused him to curse as he ambled towards you, he’d been hit slightly grazed by the bullet causing a crimson substance to trickle down his face temporarily stunting his vision.

“Shh, sweetheart it’s okay I’m here now,” He dropped to his knees, removing the piece of cloth that was holding back your choked sobs before he wrapped his arms around you. You leant into his touch resting your forehead on his shoulder as he began to help you breathe properly. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, your crying stopped.

“You’re bleeding, fuck,” He exclaimed as he brought his hand down to your lower abdomen watching your face contort with pain as you struggled to speak, nodding instead in response to his observation.

“So are you,” You weakly replied attempting to wipe away some of the crimson substance streaking down his cheek while slumping back against the wall.

“Now take Anna and get her to the hospital, she’s not going to last,” You ordered, glancing at the lifeless child with worry, unsure of the specifics of what Holly had injected her with.

“What about you?” He questioned, face painted with concern as his brows furrowed while you tried to convince him to leave and potentially save the girls life.

“I’ll be fine, you requested backup remember?”

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dxitydoo · 4 years

Text

So... the iPhone SE...

Alright this one is gonna be a long one so scroll on past if you’re not interested. If you are, then buckle up because here’s a multi-part essay about my opinions on the new SE.

For anyone that saw my post about getting a new phone and wondered what phone I got, I got the new iPhone SE (yes, I’m an Apple person. Don’t come for me).

At first, I was seeing videos of people getting excited over the phone but now, as time has gone on, those same people are now making videos criticising the phone.

Admittedly, they have some good points to bring up. The battery of the new SE is not amazing. It doesn’t outlast my dad’s XR which is somewhat annoying to say the least.

My counter-argument to that is that it lasted a whole day of me playing games on full brightness in the sunlight and didn’t die on me once which is honestly incredible after the last phone i had but anywho we’ll discuss this later.

My problem with a lot of those videos is that I feel like they’re getting the wrong end of the stick about what the SE is trying to be and they’re comparing it to the wrong phones.

The Original SE

The original SE’s main selling point (seriously why did Apple name them like this this is confusing) was that it had the newer internals of the 6S (so the faster processor, the better camera, etc) in the smaller body of the older 5S.

That was why I, and a lot of others I’m sure, liked it. Because it was a newer phone but in a size I preferred.

It also didn’t break the bank.

The old SE was praised for combining new and old in a way that complimented the old form-factor and rejuvenated in while also allowing people to access the newer features that were coming out in updates. At the time of writing this (27/04/2020), the old SE still supports new iOS updates and runs iOS 13 with minimal hiccups (not counting the fact that iOS 13 isn’t the most bug-free of updates).

But now, in 2020, the new SE is released and people are criticising it for the same thing they praised it for back in the day. They’re complaining that it has Touch ID, that it doesn’t have a edge-to-edge display, that it’s small, that the battery isn’t good, that the camera doesn’t stack up.

Look.

Everyone is free to have their own opinion. If you don’t like the SE, that’s fine. You don’t have to. No one is forcing you to. Just keep scrolling coz I do like the SE and I’m about to defend it til I run out of breath.

The “Old” Body

The SE combines old and new. That’s it’s schtick, that’s its gimmick. It was the thing for the 2016 SE, its the same for the 2020 SE. Although I would’ve loved to see an SE with an edge-to-edge display like any of the X or the 11 range, I’m not super surprised it hasn’t happened.

In fact, the small changes they have made, such as all colours now coming with a black bevel (and the better colour matching between the bevel and the screen), make it look really high-quality and beautiful honestly.

It has the same body as the 6, yes, but it doesn’t look like the 6 because of that colour-matching. And I appreciate that.

Oh! And the back being the non-metallic colour? God that’s sexy. The back is more reminiscent of the 11 (or the XR, I suppose, depending on what colour you got) than the 6 or 7. So it’s not unchanged?

Touch ID and Haptic Touch

Again, a controversial topic. The Touch ID in the SE is like the 3rd Gen or something?? I don’t actually know. But it’s several generations in at this point and it shows.

I came from the original SE, which had one of the first ever generations of Touch ID (if not the first) and the speed with which this new phone unlocks is incredible compared to the older model.

I tap the button once and the phone unlocks instantly. That is it.

Maybe it’s cumbersome to have Touch ID back again after all this time but if you’ve come from a Touch ID phone, especially one of the older models (which really... I think that’s probably the intended audience), it’s a big improvement.

And look no further for someone who was viscerally against the fake button Haptic Touch thing.

I hated the idea of it. My view was I either wanted the real button or no button at all. Full stop. End of story. You’d never change my mind.

Yeah... the new SE changed my mind.

I have the haptics turned up to the highest setting and it actually feels like a real button. Its less spongy than a real button, of course, and feels stiffer (kinda? Maybe just shallower) but its actually a really satisfying feature.

I remember first trying the fake button on the 7 and it vibrated at the wrong time or you’d try to press it to do one thing and it’d do another. It was confusing and made it very difficult to use.

I will say now I haven’t actually tried using an 8 so I can’t pass judgement on that but i like the SE.

And the Haptic Touch is really really nice.

I never thought I’d have a phone that has built-in rumble when playing games but here we are. This is the future.

Aside from being kinda nifty to feel the vibration in your hands when something happens on-screen, the Haptic Touch vibrates under your finger when interacting with the rotating dials to set timers or reblogging posts on tumblr. It’s a weird experience but not an unpleasant one and I like it way more than I was expecting to.

The Small Size

As for the size?

I really like it.

It’s big enough that it feels like a step-up from my old phone but not so big that I’m struggling to hold it (*cough cough* the XR *cough cough*).

Okay so my touch-typing is suffering a wee bit at the moment but tbh I started to struggle on my old phone before I upgraded coz the screen was just a little too small so it’s more a me thing than an it thing. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.

The camera.

I feel the need to mention that my last phone was the 2016 SE so, maybe it’s because my standards are really low, or maybe I’ve never owned an 11 and, therefore, have no comparison for it that way? But I don’t think the camera is bad.

In fact, I would even go so far as to say the camera is really fricking good.

After using a phone with a front-facing camera that could barely shoot 480p, stepping up to 1080p on the front is Wild™. The difference between this new camera and the old one is incredible.

If you want a camera that shoots good quality photos, has good colour balance, can actually show the sky as blue when shooting through a window (yes this is how low my expectations are), then omg this phone is incredible.

Obviously, its never gonna beat the 11 with its two cameras and its not gonna be able to contend with the 11 Pro series with their three cameras but hey, the phone is like half the price so??

The Battery

Okay, so lets talk about the battery.

I know this is a bit of a sore spot with people because iPhones recently have been coming out with bigger and better batteries every year.

I did a quick check through and, according to Apple, the battery life is about the same as both the 7 and the 8, which makes sense as they all share the same body. Unfortunately, that means that its probably a size issue. As in, thats the longest a battery of that size can last in a phone. Which is kinda annoying.

But, this is a post about my experience with the SE and I haven’t ever owned a 7 or an 8. My mum owned a 7 and the battery on that was god-awful and I’ve had a much better experience with my SE than she did.

First of all: some context.

Again, a friendly reminder my last phone was a four year old SE. It was a 64GB one as well, so you know I’m being legit (they stopped selling the 64GB (in the UK at least) about a year after the phone’s initial release).

So the battery on my old phone was absolutely fine. At first. As time went on and the phone got older, it did, unfortunately, begin to struggle.

As a reference, a few months before I replaced it (given lockdown doesn’t give the most accurate overview of what it was like to use on a day-to-day basis), it wouldn’t make it through a day at school without dying at least once, sometimes twice.

I had to carry a portable charger with me everywhere I went.

I left my house when it was on 100% and, by the time I got to school after an hour on the bus, it would be on 60-70% on a good day.

Letting your battery die everyday is really not good for it but, try as I might, I couldn’t stop it from happening.

I tell you this to let you know that my criteria for a good battery is literally just “lasts me through the day”.

I’ve had my new phone for about three days now and it hasn’t died on me once.

I played games on it in bright sunlight with the phone on full brightness for several hours straight yesterday and yet it still lasted me through the day and then some. After being off charge for 11 hours, it just about hit 20% before I put it on charge.

Today, I was on social media: tumblr, instagram, youtube, for the majority of today. Both tumblr and instagram had an uncanny ability to completely decimate the battery life of my old phone. They could reduce it from 50% to 40% after 5 minutes. But, again, no problemo for my new phone.

It got to about 50% today before I put it back on charge to go have dinner.

I’d say that lasts through the day quite nicely.

Especially given it’s getting a lot more use than it would normally because a) I’m stuck inside with nothing to do and b) shiny new phone!!!

But I digress.

So, Why Does The SE Exist?

I’m gonna be real. I don’t think the iPhone SE (2020) is trying to be anything fancy. It’s not trying to be the next iPhone 11, it’s not trying to replace the XR. If anything, it’s replacing the 8.

I don’t think the SE is a bad phone. It does everything it says it does and it does it well.

I think the YouTube reviewers have it slightly wrong. I don’t think they should be comparing the SE to the 11 or the XR because, realistically, the people who own those phones aren’t gonna be buying the SE for themselves.

The people who are gonna be buying the SE are the people who have the 5s or the old SE or the 6s or even maybe the 7. (I’m not sure how noticeable the jump would be from 8 to SE, given they have very similar specs).

They’re the kind of people who want a new phone but don’t have the money to go for the more expensive XR or 11 range.

Or maybe they don’t want a giant phone because idk bout you but I have small hands and the XR is both large and heavy and that’s not practical. Plus, the XR with women’s jeans? Really? Not happening.

So, while I understand why reviewers are comparing the SE to the 11s or the XR—because the SE has the internals of those two and is closer to them in terms of release date—I don’t think it’s actually realistic.

TL;DR

YouTube reviewers are comparing the SE to the recent phones when they should be comparing it to the older ones, which is the more likely transition. The iPhone SE has a lot more going for it than people say and I really like it.

#long post #iphone SE #the new iphone #i have opinions #kinda a rant #apple #ios #apple ain’t perfect but the iphone SE is a decent phone #funny how i made that same argument bout the 2016 SE too #huh #makes ya think

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yackowarner · 5 years

Text

while I’m posting old writing snippets... here’s something FOP related that’s also old but good. It’s coswan

Preface

He seriously needed a coffee right now. Preferably one in his favorite mug, the pink one with the big red heart on it. Coffee just tasted better in that cup. And for this daily task, he needed the caffeinated drink. The bitterness of a black coffee got him through this. Usually he’d have something sweetened up, with mocha or cream or any other thing you could put into coffee, but black was all that helped here. Because this daily task—one he’d made a requirement for himself—had to do with teenagers.

Watching over teenagers, to be exact. Observe them. Make sure he knew exactly what to do with them when February fourteenth rolled around—he was Cupid, of course. The God of Love had to be aware of who he was shooting in the butt. But teenage love (though quite cute, he had to admit) was so unreal it almost made him sick. Teen love was all hormones and hungry children wanting to move too fast, to climb on top of each other all at once. True love in a teenager was rare, with both fairies and humans.

Today he was checking the fairies. He did it one high school at a time. Perhaps he missed a few people in the process, but he’d get to them eventually. There’d be an arrow in their rear at some point. Whether that arrow lasted a lifetime or not… well. It really depended on the person. Some people never had an arrow with their names on it.

He focused his attention on Carl Poofy Pants Fairy High School, on this particular day. He had the list of names with him, and (thank goodness) a cup of steaming black coffee on the table next to him. He could see the front doors of the high school in his mind’s eye, and the students milled about just like in any other school. Nothing out of the ordinary. Normal high school activities. There was a girl being followed by a harem of men—obviously the prettiest in school. One look down his list told him her name was Blonda, and her arrow was most definitely sitting in his archive. He just knew it was there. Cupid’s intuition was rather refined.

He focused again on the setting of the school inside his head, sweeping over a poor fairy child being turned upside-down by the captain of the football team… he mentally checked off all their arrows… and a few girls quietly gathered around their lockers laughing together. All their arrows were there as well—

Hold on. No. Wait. Back to the tiny fairy being bullied, he was now right side up, begging the football player’s forgiveness, for whatever he had done. Cupid tried… he truly did… but this green haired boy had no arrow. His name would be on his list, but… and in the group of girls, by the lockers. No arrow on one of them, the pink haired girl, too. Rare, so very rare, to have two arrowless people in one place. He supposed it to be possible. But he felt bad for the two poor saps who’d never experience the joy of love, the rush one got when they were pierced by his expertly shot arrow. Rare… rare cases happened where someone fell in love without an arrow. And not fake love. Real, true love. But never had the other person returned the feelings without Cupid’s guidance. It just meant that, one side of the couple had a more raw passion to it. Falling in love without a love arrow was so powerful. Cupid adored it when it happened. It powered his machines greatly.

He browsed curiously through all the other children. They were fine. Arrows were there. But… his interest had been sprung. He’d have to keep a close eye on those two, when he had moments of free time to spare. In fact, he decided to dig through his file cabinets, pull out the two fairies files, not very full right now. Oh how he didn’t know, how full they’d get. He’d need more than folders to keep the papers of these two organized. But at this moment, he just set the files down on his desk—with the other arrowless fairies and humans--to browse later on.

He was sure they were unrelated. Just two kids in the same school happened to have a similar situation. They didn’t seem to even see each other when he’d been watching the school scene. Neither knew of the other’s existence. Still, he liked carefully tracking these types. Just in case they were ones to fall in love all on their own. He needed that. And he needed it documented carefully.

Yes, he’d certainly be keeping a watchful eye and open ear over these teens. This… Cosmo and Wanda.

Chapter One

Today was the anniversary of her mother’s death. This day always had her thinking, thinking her life through, thinking about the choices she was making. That is—it made her think even more than usual. And usual was, well… a lot. She thought about her grades. They were perfect, spot on. And to keep them that way, she had to think about them. She thought about what she was going to wear. Not that she was very fashionable—she wanted to be presentable, though. She thought about what she was going to have for lunch today. Wanda thought about her family. How her father clearly loved her sister better. He was proud of Wanda, sure. She had the highest marks, and he bragged about it. But her sister was stunningly gorgeous somehow, much more so than Wanda—even if they were twins. Though Blonda had to start dying her hair when it began to lose its natural shiny blonde color, she was still the most beautiful. She was the head of the acting club at school. She had a posse of men carrying her things and giving her compliments. Wanda didn’t hate her sister. She simply couldn’t. She was family. But she loathed her inflated ego and tendency to rub things in the pink haired fairy’s face.

She was overthinking her sister, again. What else was there to think about? Oh yes, meeting the girls after school today, at the diner. And… her boyfriend. There was always him to think about. Not that she really enjoyed thinking about Juandissimo. Wanda was very back and forth on breaking it off with him—on one hand, she made all the other girls jealous by dating the most hunky guy in school. On the other hand, those girls were out for blood, and Juandissimo ate it up. He wasn’t very caring to Wanda’s needs, either. He never waited for her, dropped her off, picked her up, things you’d expect to be a common courtesy for a boyfriend to do.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to end it, however. She didn’t want to be the girl who dumped ‘the best thing that ever happened to her.’ She didn’t want to hurt Juandissimo’s feelings. He was not cruel to her—simply shallow and a bit untrustworthy. She would need a real reason to break up with the guy. Not just lingering discomfort.

Lost in these thoughts as she picked up her wand and floated lazily out of the house, calling goodbye to her father. Wanda hated having to open the big golden gate in front of her house. She was too rich for her own good, thanks to Big Daddy’s trash business. One would expect her to be stuck up. No, that was Blonda, not her. She was the good twin. The good twin who was dating the best boy in school. Right? Not that she was planning to marry the guy. No way. That was thinking much too far into the future, anyway. She was a junior in high school, she had plenty of time to think about it. Wanda almost slapped herself out of her daze. She was such a thinker. School was what she should be focusing on. Getting to school. Turning the corner into an alley, she spotted Juandissimo talking to another girl, and caught a whiff of the conversation. Something about… about… she quickly zipped back around the corner and hid, heart pounding. He’d been talking about her. He’d said something… something about how he enjoyed Wanda being beside him. Something about how it made him look good. She could barely process this information thrown in her face so suddenly. He couldn’t have meant it. He was trying to get the girl off his back. Her boyfriend wasn’t using her.

So after a few long deep breaths and a mini panic attack, she turned the corner again and called out his name, to which he smiled at her and took her arm in his and they went to school together, then separated as she went to her locker, as always. And her three best friends gathered around her. Well, one of them was her true best friend. That was Marigold. A dark-skinned fairy with eyes the color of the flower she was named for, Mari had tiny spiraling curls that she held back with a headband. Her voice was a southern drawl, with didn’t make much sense, since fairies didn’t have a south, but that’s how she talked, and Wanda hardly noticed it. The other two were best friends with each other, the light blue one Ella, and the teal one Nyx. However, the four were a little group. Wanda was comfortable with them. Ella and Nyx were always, always, asking her about Juandissimo. Just as they were now.

“Did he hold your hand?”

“Did he say anything romantic? Oh my stars, his accent probably makes everything sound romantic…”

Wanda shooed them away, giggling. Marigold didn’t look all that pleased—as she usually did when they were discussing the muscled fairy.

“I still say you dump the guy like a tonna bricks, Wanda dear.” She leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, and a pout on her lips. “I don’t like that there attitude ‘a his.”

“Relax, Mari.” Wanda replied, being casual about her inner conflict, acting as if there was none. “I can date who I want. And if I wanna dump him, I’ll do it. But for now… I’d like to keep the popular guy, y’know? Looks good on my rep.”

“Your rep? Wanda, datin’ a boy’s not gonna be on your college apps.”

“I know, I know. I just… Blonda. Y’know how she is, all perfect. I’ve got something over her on this. Blonda’s single.”

“And ready t’ mingle, yea. Girl needs to take it down a notch.” Mari shook her head disapprovingly. She was going to be a tough mother one day, if they allowed babies to be born again. Wanda didn’t know who, but some fairy baby had caused some disaster and they outlawed it. Shame, too. Although, this meant that adult fairies went pretty much insane with sexual activity, due to lack of repercussions and responsibility.

Not that Wanda was ready for sex. No way. She was in high school. No matter how many times Juandissimo asked her if she would ever want to—she told him she was waiting for marriage. That was her rule.

Wanda shook out of her thoughts and told Mari not to worry and headed off to her advanced magic class. She knew no one in the class, so it was her thinking time, she barely noticed spells flying back and forth, and always just casually put out her hair whenever it was set alight by that three-headed hydra some kid just loved to make. It always stooped one of its heads down to Wanda, the name tag around its neck, reading ‘Snowball,’ jingling as it waved back and forth.

"Hiya Snowball," Wanda mused quietly, patting the head of the creature. She wondered why he had a soft spot for her. One time during cheerleading practice he had suddenly appeared—his creator probably in gym class nearby—and stomped over to her, scaring the rest of the squad until Wanda shooed him away. She wasn’t afraid. The pink haired fairy was used to the crazy antics of the talented creative advanced magic class. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t feel she belonged there.

Wanda couldn’t do magic with her hands very well. With her wand, she was unstoppable. Hand magic took too much out of her. The teacher said it was probably because she was too rigid—too much of a stickler to the rules. Most other kids in the class flew up out of the open sunroof into the air, and had magic fights. Wanda preferred staying grounded and tried to use hand magic to write out lists of things to do. It always came out sloppy and she opted instead to rewriting it by hand.

Occasionally a little purple freshman fairy named Violet would fly over to her desk and watch her, talking quietly that she’d almost got it. Wanda liked the gesture, but she’d seen the stuff the girl’d done. Violet shook her head saying she wasn’t the one who made Snowball—she didn’t know his name, she said. Violet was the one who made the tall sunflowers by the baseball field. They were stories high. And she’d done it with her hands, not a wand. She continued to take careful care of them with her hands.

Wanda felt like a failure in this class, so she was glad to leave it each day.

Because the rest of her classes were a breeze. Hard work, but easy for her. Then the day was over. The end of the day meant a nice little quiet moment with Juandissimo. She felt it was the best part of their relationship. He’d meet her alone by her locker and kiss her on both cheeks, then on her hand, and they’d talk about their days. Juandissimo’s was always a more superficial story, less stressful than Wanda’s, but she liked hearing it. Gave her a different outlook, she supposed.

Then he’d be off to some party that she wasn’t invited to—because she wasn’t popular enough. He promised he’d get her into one of these shindigs one day. She wasn’t sure about wanting to go. Somehow she felt it might be the last straw that would end their relationship.

Wanda sighed, but tried to perk herself up enough before shutting her locker and taking her wand from her purse to zap outside the school—doors are for chumps, y’know. At least there was the diner with Mari, Ella and Nyx. They did it every week, this outing. Ella and Nyx lived for it, they were always giggling and pointing behind the counter—something funny that they refused to tell Wanda. Though Mari seemed to know what it was, she wouldn’t say a word either. Wanda hated to be kept in the dark.

Today, however, they weren’t pointing. Wanda glanced at the counter to make sure nothing was different. Didn’t seem so. Until Ella spoke up, clearly miffed.

"Like, where is he? I need my weekly source of adorable comedy! He’s here every Wednesday."

"…Who?" Wanda gave her blue friend a raised brow. "Is this ‘he’ the thing you’re always laughing at that you won’t tell me about?"

"There’s a fairy over the counter always giving you the eye, Wanda! He’s embarrassing himself and it’s kinda funny. Almost cute in a way. How have you not noticed!?" Nyx blurted out quickly, not taking a single breath in between sentences. It was clear the secret had been killing her, her face was red.

Mari rolled her eyes from her position next to Wanda. “He’s got a crush, quit makin’ fun a him. He’s prob better than that there Juan-dee-see-mo. Or however you say it.”

Wanda gave her best friend a glare, but her anger wore off quickly when she heard a squeak from Nyx across the way, who was pointing frantically behind Wanda with Ella covering her mouth to prevent the teal fairy from screaming. Wanda turned, and who she guessed was the boy in question had a tray in his hands, looking like a server.

Oh yes, she recognized him. He worked here a lot. Not that she knew his name, or anything, but… wasn’t he usually washing dishes behind the counter, not serving the food?

Her question was soon answered when the boy didn’t notice a wet floor sign—honestly why was he walking when he could’ve been floating—and tripped, landing all of the food on the tray right on Wanda’s dress and face. She didn’t make a sound, just closed her eyes in surprise.

Now, Wanda could’ve gone off. She was ready to make her head explode, to be honest. But when her eyes drifted open and the little green fairy was giving her the most apologetic and embarrassed look she’d ever seen on anyone’s face in her entire life… well. She couldn’t help but smile.

"I-I-I’m sorry!" He said quietly, picking a french fry out of his hair. "I can… I can fix…"

"It’s alright," Wanda assured him, like he was a lost puppy-dog. "It’s really okay." She was getting ready to stand up…

"No! I can…fix it." The green fairy’s hand was aglow, soft yellow light emitting from his fingertips, and the next thing Wanda knew, she was sparkling clean, no trace of the food left.

"How did…?" She muttered, looking at her clean clothes in wonderment. He was amazingly talented at magic!

"I’m so so so so so so sorry they’re making me do waiter duty for the first time and I’m not very coordinated! I’m sorry really really really sor—"

"It’s fine, really…" She scanned his shirt for his name tag. "…Cosmo." The name rolled nicely off her tongue. A cute name, made her smile again. Why was she smiling again? Wanda was supposed to be moody and in mourning today. Not grinning like an idiot.

"I guess this is my punishment for Snowball burning off the manager’s hair—I totally embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl—"

“Snowball?” Wanda’s eyebrows shot up. “Like big hydra Snowball? With three heads?” Pretty girl?

“Yea, he’s my pet…how’d you know him? And my name too, how’d…?” he cut off when she pointed to his name tag, and he glanced down and looked embarrassed again, his whole face and ears turning bright red.

#fop #fairly oddparents #coswan #fanfiction #fairly odd parents #cosmo and wanda #writing

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jessicagetsmytitle · 6 years

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Four Things part 2

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Jeon Jungkook

Genre: angst, fluff, (eventual) smut

Warnings: foul language

Summary: Tae tries to find comfort from his awful life in his boyfriend but finds something bigger and better.

A/N: wow I am a sappy writer what does this say about me?

Word Count: 900

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The sun was their alarm clock.

Bright beams tore through the window they forgot to curtain and danced across Taehyung’s face, waking him from his peaceful slumber.

He groaned and moved his arms to rub his eyes but couldn’t, Jungkook was in them, all snuggled up and sleeping with a serene expression on his face.

The warm glow of the morning sun turned his skin to a golden shade and left shadows where his impossibly long lashes caught the light. He looked so angelic and pure in that moment, just like something out of a novel Tae would read.

It would have been a crime to disturb him.

Tae only pulled him closer and gazed at his face.

There are a million things Tae loves about Jungkook and a million things he loves to do with Jungkook.

There are the materialistic things like how Jungkook has the most toned body he has ever had the fortune to leave hickeys on and how he bought him a really nice set of oil paints for his birthday. Things that might be a tiny bit shallow despite how careful Tae is to not become one of those guys that measure a relationship with how nice the other’s body is and how expensive the gifts are.

And there are the emotional things, like how he remembers that Tae prefers his Kalgooksoo cold so he buys it ahead of time so he doesn’t have to wait and how he’ll watch cartoons with him no matter how busy he is. The things that give you this fuzzy and warm feeling in your chest because despite being together for years, you still feel a rush of affection and adoration towards them and they never stop making you feel loved.

One thing that Tae will always love about Jungkook, is how well he fits in his arms when they sleep together.

Whether they are just sleeping or actually fucking, Jungkook always seems to make his way between his arms. It’s like his safe space is a place where he is loved and cared for and with someone that makes him giggle at the worst moment because he remembered a joke Tae made about something like hits, who tries to cook him breakfast but manages to make something that resembles chili paste (it was supposed to be puttanesca), or sings him made up lullabies that don’t rhyme because he’s winging it as he goes.

Tae loves him for that.

Jungkook’s little mumbling brings Tae back to him as Jungkook mutters about something that has to do with cows, and he returned to studying his boyfriend’s face.

It’s in that moment, a moment where he is listing every single thing he loves about him, that Tae realizes just how much he loves Jungkook.

He wants this-no needs this.

Mornings where he can expect to wake up to his peaceful face, a bed that’s warm thanks to their shared body heat, nights just aimlessly talking and kissing as the TV plays a boring news channel that they’re too lazy to change.

He needs Jungkook and his soft kisses, needs his love and quiet thoughtfulness, his bright laugh that makes Tae feel funnier than he really is, his sass and sarcasm that keeps him on his toes and humble, and his clever wisdom that leaves Tae thinking all day.

Taehyung needs Jungkook like lungs need oxygen.

In that moment, even with Jungkook in his arms, Tae can’t help but feel terrified and ecstatic at the revelation.

Falling love was always a concept too big for Tae to swallow growing up.

What is love?

The first thing you’re going to think of is something cheesy and cute like flower bouquets and candlelit dinners with rose petals scattered everywhere.

Maybe you’ll think of something more physical like passionate kisses and holding hands as you walk in the park.

It could be anything, chocolates on Valentine’s Day to writing songs and poems about them.

Tae’s parents never had anything like that, and of course, that left an impact on Tae.

So what is love?

For Tae, it’s the perplexing idea that you’ll meet someone you won’t be afraid to be honest with, the idea that you will be able to give another human being with feelings and problems your feelings and problems, your dreams, fears, childhood, and heart to the point where they could easily crush you and all of your soul.

But you trust that they won’t.

Even stranger, they trust you back.

How can you bind yourself to someone and expect to their face next to yours when you wake up in the morning? How can you trust that they’ll come back after a fight and apologize thirty times because they hate seeing you cry? How can you believe that every compliment they give you isn't fake and given because they feel obligated to say something nice to you? How can you listen to the radio in the car and hear those pop singers describing something so pure and wonderful and smile at the person sitting next to you because you know what they’re talking about, you don’t feel like they’re just making all that up for the money? How can you love someone so much when you don’t even understand the abstract and unfathomable concept that is love?

Tae never understood how that could ever happen to anyone.

But he’s starting to.

#bangtan #bts #bts vkook #bts v #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #taehyung x jungkook #V X JungKook #taekook #fanfic #angst #fluff #jung hoseok #park jimin #min yoongi #jeon jungkook

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sinesalvatorem · 7 years

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Taking Me On A Date: A Comprehensive Guide

(As comprehensive as I can make a Tumblr post I wrote on the spur of the moment, that is. I will try to update over time with more info and links. You can also use this as general advice on interacting with me.)

I recently got into some conversations about how and why someone might want to take me on a date. As such, I’ve decided to write up in one place as much as I can figure out about what I’d want out of a date and what other people should expect from me.

What I Like:

I am bisexual, and am happy to go on dates with people of any gender/sex. I lean androphilic, which means I’m into a cluster of traits that tend to be correlated with maleness. I find testosterone-influenced features and masculine gender presentation and stuff to be sexy. However, they’re just part of what I find attractive, and I can be attracted to people with very little of either.

I’m someone with a mostly-male body (I haven’t been on HRT very long) and a very feminine personality / presentation / behaviour set. I can be reasonably described as a transgirl, though these days I’m somewhat confused by what being trans means. However, the important thing to note is that in any situation with gender roles I will almost certainly be most comfortable and happy in the female one.

This means that, among other things, I’d like you to take the initiative as much as possible. Suggest what we do, place an order on my behalf (after consulting me, ofc), escalate things yourself, etc. If things are going well, I would very much like it if you tried to kiss me (or asked to kiss me, if you prefer). [How to tell if I want to be kissed] If I really like you but I have to take the initiative to go anywhere, I will have a hard time, because doing so is very out of sync with my personality. I can and will do it if it’s clear that we both want it and you aren’t moving, but be aware that this is vastly dispreferred.

I also really like being complimented. You can be as shallow or silly or dramatic as you want, and I won’t interpret your compliments as fake or be repulsed by them. For more on how I perceive (and use) complements, see here.

I usually enjoy physical contact. In general, leaning against me, resting your hand on my leg, putting your arm around me, etc are all very nice. If for some reason they aren’t, I’ll pull away and say something to that effect. However, this is rare. Overall, err on the side of touching me, if you would like to. Kissing is as described above. If making out (ie: sustained, enthusiastic kissing) ensues, you can grope to your heart’s content.

Going on a date with you does not necessarily mean I would like to sleep with you, nor do I assume that everyone who goes on a date with me would like to sleep with me. However, it is a possibility. What I like sexually is an essay in itself but, luckily, an essay I’ve already written. You can read the guide to my sexual preferences here or browse my NSFW blog here.

What I Dislike:

Please do not issue direct commands to me for any reason. For anything you would command me to do, you should just ask me to do it instead. Seriously. Using the imperative with me ends very badly. Please consider this a hard limit.

I don’t like being talked down to. Don’t get me wrong - I like learning about things. However, talking to me like I’m too dumb to get what you mean, or saying things to the effect of “Oh, of course you wouldn’t know this”, will generally annoy me quite a bit. I like feeling like I’m learning something collaboratively with someone else, rather than providing them with an opportunity to feel superior.

Relatedly, I don’t like getting into heated arguments on dates. Especially if it’s in a public venue. I’m OK with arguing in a general sense, but it kind of counteracts the date experience. Here I can’t say I’m perfect - I might very well make the comment that leads to the argument. However, if I notice that this has happened and point it out, I would very much appreciate it if you were willing to set the argument aside for another time.

If I state a boundary in advance, please DO NOT approach it in the expectation that I will stop you at the right time. I encourage you to verbally ask what to do about something that seems like an edge case, but do not give the impression in your actions that you’re going to violate the boundary because you expect me to enforce it myself.

For an example taken from a Less Wrong thread:

Person 1: The other week I was making out and cuddling with a girl, and we'd already explicitly negotiated that we wouldn't be having sex. So at some point we were spooning, and I asked "Can I touch your breasts?". She hesitated, so I said, "Ah, that's a no, don't worry". She was obviously relieved, and we continued without any problems. This sort of thing only comes up a small minority of the time, but when it does I think it's actually pretty important to verbalise things. So I'm wondering whether you have a different system, or just never find yourself needing to check in with someone that directly?

Person 2: With the breasts, no, I wouldn't explicitly ask in that way. Hands go on body, hands caress slowly toward breasts. Pay attention to response. Another way is to look where you intend the hands to go, and go there. Perhaps a comment on the breasts first.

Person 1: For me it really depends on my model of what I think they want. Like, assume I'm pretty sure that there'll be a line somewhere. Obviously, the right thing to do isn't just "escalate until they give an explicit 'no' (either verbally, or by moving my hand away)". But even if you just proceed cautiously and keep gauging their response, they're likely to spend a lot of the time thinking about when/whether you're going to push past where they're comfortable, and steeling themselves to give that no when it happens. Especially with girls, most will have had more than a few negative experiences with pushy guys.

What person 1 did is an example of what I’m in favour of. What person 2 did would freak me out. Person 1′s response perfectly illustrates why. I frankly do not have the mental energy to keep track of how close you’re coming to overstepping my boundaries so I can enforce them. If you want to go further, please use words first.

(Note that I’m not saying that what Person 2 did is in any way Universally Bad. It probably works fine for some people. However, it does not work for me. I am writing this guide in advance specifically because what works for one person may not work for another, and I want to clarify where I stand.)

How To Communicate With Me:

When speaking to me, there is basically no need to worry whether what you’re saying to me is too private/TMI/unwanted/etc. I have no “Woah! Too much information!” reaction to speak of. If you’d like to tell me something, I’d like to know it, because I am infinitely curious about everyone. I am always in favour of deepening knowledge. (However, I will generally try to track how I speak to you to ensure I’m not stepping over any of the usual boundaries. This is me asymmetrically giving you permission to disregard that for me.)

I am somewhat guess culture in that I can’t clearly communicate my preferences one-on-one in-the-moment. (Which is why it’s so much easier to just write up this Tumblr post in advance.) Here is a very detailed explanation of what’s going on with my communication style. In case you TL;DR (though it’s only 2 pages), the important bits to note are:

I encourage people to ask me whenever they want something from me, because communication needs to happen somehow. If you can hedge it by giving me an obvious acceptable out (“but I know it’s far away…”, “but if you’re too busy…”, etc), that would be great, because it would feel 100% safe, but you don’t have to.

If you give me an out and I don’t take it, but I do raise an objection, assume that’s my true objection and you can troubleshoot it. If you don’t give me an out and I raise an objection, it may be my way of grasping for an escape clause. In that case, only troubleshoot to the first level, and back off if I keep giving excuses. If I start trying to pull out my hair, you probably broke me.

I view going on a date as exploratory. I want to learn how much I like you and how well we get along. I can usually tell pretty quickly how well I like someone from the cues I pick up in interaction. By the end of a first date, there’s a ~80% chance that I know whether I’m into you. However, if I’m unsure, I’ll lean toward trying another time. You can definitely ask about scheduling a second date right after the first one, and you can call me back as soon as you want. Rules about how long you need to wait are silly IMO.

I hate talking on the phone or via email. Instant messaging through Tumblr or Facebook is preferred, and SMS is OK. Even so, I am sometimes bad at keeping in touch with people online, even if I like them a lot and/or can consistently meet them in person. More details here.

I am OK with you being as explicit (or crass) as you want about the degree to which you’re into me from the get-go. This could be “You’re OK to hang out with” or “You are what gives the universe meaning” or anything inbetween. Yes, I’m completely aware of how weird that is in a first date context. No, I don’t particularly care that it is. (I will probably avoid being weird, though, because not everyone is as weirdness-tolerant as I am.)

After the date, if you invite me to go back to your house, I will assume that this is a polite way of asking to sleep with me, because this is how that’s generally used. (You can also directly ask me if I want to have sex with you but, if you’re looking for a polite way to ask, this is ideal.) If you ask me to head back to your place and I don’t want to sleep with you, I’ll decline, which works well enough if what you were actually asking was whether I wanted to sleep with you.

However, it’s possible that you want to invite me to hang out at your house for non-sexual reasons! And then my declining would be unfortunate if I actually did want to hang out more! In that case, you can say you want me to go home with you “for non-sexual reasons”. In that case, I won’t assume that you definitely don’t want to sleep with me, but I will assume that you won’t be disappointed if I decide not to. If you don’t want to sleep with me, or you do want to while also wanting me to visit for other reasons, this is the way to ask.

Logistics:

I live in the San Francisco Bay Area so, if you also live there, you can go out with me now. If not, you may be able to go out with me if/when I visit your city in the future.

To the greatest degree possible, I want you to plan it. Of course I want you to consult me on what I want and to ask if I approve of the place/time before we go but, the more you take over the planning, the more I’ll enjoy it. From The Art of Charm:

If you want the girl to like you and enjoy herself on the date, then you’ve got to take control every step of the way. Deciding what to do, where to go, how long it will take – all that logistical stuff – it’s all up to you.

The ability to lead is something all women find attractive in a guy. And by taking on this burden of responsibility, it means that the girl you’re out with doesn’t have to worry about these things. She can just relax, go with the flow, and enjoy herself and the time you’re spending together.

Frankly, the claim that “all women” find this attractive is false. However, I find this attractive in people, so I won’t deny that this is good advice about me. Specifically, the thing about it relaxing your date would be super true of me, and I will definitely enjoy my time with you a lot more if I can focus on you instead of on logistics.

Getting around will require me using the train system unless you want to pick me up yourself or pay for an Uber/Lyft for me. I can’t drive and I have a vendetta against buses. As such, I would appreciate it if we met up somewhere near a Caltrain or BART station.

I try to be very clear on whether I’m going to show up to something. If I cancel, I try to say so as far in advance as possible, and I also like to form plans at least two days in advance (preferably 3-5). I also try to confirm via messaging whether we’re definitely getting together on the day of the meeting, so the other person can back out. I am sometimes late due to the vagueries of the train system (or annoyingly early, because I almost always leave home early), but so far I’ve never flaked on my dates without saying anything. I would strongly encourage you to likewise tell me in advance if it isn’t going to work out - doubly so if I make the 5½ hour roundtrip to Berkeley (which I’m willing to do if we actually meet).

If things involve money, I would greatly appreciate it if you paid. This is because I’m broke (am recent immigrant who is new to the jerb-thiefing). However, don’t worry about me being an expensive date - you can openly optimise for thrift and I’ll be down with it. I also try to order things from the cheaper end of the menu. I disapprove of spending other people’s money as much as I disapprove of spending my own.

If going out involves getting food, we’ll need to discuss my very complicated and kind of restrictive diet. Just bringing that up in advance.