Tumgik
#i think they fail to mention how much less money they paid for their school
Text
Republican Boomers: Life’s not fair, get used to it!!
*Student Loan Forgiveness is introduced*
The same Boomers: Hey, that’s not fair!!
1K notes · View notes
mgaspary · 1 year
Text
Just Because You Quit The Job You Like, It Doesn’t Mean You Failed
Tumblr media
This post was published in my Substack email newsletter and on my website. Click here to view the original article.
Remembering the times when I quit as a teacher and succeeded as a writer is something I couldn’t imagine at all. I grew up thinking I could be successful once I studied hard and got good grades. But it wasn’t the case for me.
I graduated in 2013 with “almost” flying colors. I only needed 0.22 of my QPI to become a Cum Laude, an honorable mention awarded to college students next to Summa and Magna cum Laude.
When I found out about it, I couldn’t understand how I should feel. Should I be happy because I don’t have to face thousands of students looking at me as I go up the stage and receive the award? 
Or should I bury myself because I failed to give my parents the award they wanted me to achieve… at the last stage of my academic life?
Having 50 rejected job applications was enough for failure. It wasn’t as if I got hired in a small school for a $100 or less monthly salary. I was a full-time high school teacher at the time, teaching eight subjects in four different year levels. Hence, I make 32 sets of lesson plans every night.
It was tough. Indeed, it was. 
Learning there was no hope in my day job, I quit my teaching career and searched for online opportunities. That’s when I discovered I could earn a living as a writer. Yet, it won’t be an easy feat. It wasn’t. 
Free Articles on Lifehack
I needed to seek help from big websites and become a contributor with pay to gain experience with online writing. My parents thought I was crazy for working hard for an article without receiving a single penny in my account.
At the time, I didn’t know how PayPal worked. So, I started submitting posts with an assigned editor working with me. It was the first time I wrote about something I had never experienced. 
I learned how to create stories and literature in college because I was an English major. But I never wrote something about life or lifestyle. Not with a professional editor! I love writing. However, I have yet to work with an editor beside me to edit my work. 
I had to get used to having my articles edited, which could affect the message I wanted to tell. And because of having no options, I was forced to comply with what they accepted regardless if they destroyed the content wholly. All I thought of was having my name published on their website. 
After successfully publishing my first few posts, the editor, who worked with me first, told me about my writing style. 
She mentioned the areas I needed to work on and that my work follows a Spanish accent. That’s because the Philippines was under Spanish rule for 333 years. 
Given all the notes editors gave me for months, I practiced on my own and made a few blogs for free at WordPress.Com. That was before I got my first paid job as a writer. 
My First $50 In My Writing Career
I know it’s not that much. Yet, receiving my first $50 was big enough to prove to my parents there was something online. It’s proof that I could earn money without leaving the house, enough proof to never return to my previous job and collapse in front of my students again. 
I may collapse in front of my PC after working long. At least nobody could witness it, embarrassing myself. I’m not saying this is a good thing. This is my way to keep my solitude, despite the negative consequences of my actions, even with good intentions.
Teaching was once a solace. But the constant control of the authorities contributed to my choice to quit my job. I wouldn’t have minded if they paid me low, very low. If I had felt freer to teach the important lessons, I wouldn’t have left and continued teaching the students. 
It is not the reality for most teachers, unfortunately. As much as they want to continue to teach the basics to survive and the lessons to uphold, teachers desire recognition of their efforts but micromanaging them would hold them back. 
Only two teachers were working with me. For a small private school, it could be enough. At least in the eyes of the school owners. Yet, the harmony between the administration and the teachers was in constant friction. A gap between teaching the lessons and what I call the “truth” created confusion in my profession. 
I love to teach people, young and old. This is the main reason for choosing the course when I entered college. The idea of being deprived of teaching fundamental lessons was only in my mind once I started teaching in an honest, unsupervised classroom. I wasn’t in an internship anymore but employed.
Everything was on my terms. And I have to be responsible for that. Initially, earning some money to survive and pay my monthly bills was a good thing. The more I worked over 100 hours weekly for a small salary without benefits frustrated me a lot. 
I stayed longer because of my students, as the friction between me and the school authorities became unbearable. Finally, on the first of April, I submitted the final papers to the principal’s office before I left. 
And I never returned. Not only to the school I first taught but to teaching as a whole. Consequently, I searched the internet for money-making opportunities, making an income without leaving the house. 
After the trauma I had experienced during my first teaching experience, I desired to be alone and socially isolated for years. At least, I have a big reason to stay home without being seated in the hot seat in front of my parents.
With many second thoughts, I rushed into seeking job opportunities as a writer for the first time. After a long search, I landed my first online job as a news writer. 
They hired me, but then they weren’t satisfied with my job because of my terrible writing. In the end, they paid $50 through my PayPal account and fired me. (The website was shut down not long after I left.)
My First $250 Monthly Salary 
I never ceased a day to practice my writing craft and continued. I spent a few months searching for a new job until a company called me to work for them. This time, I was a news article writer. Again. 
But then, there would be a team working with me and a copyeditor who’ll guide me throughout the process in exchange for $250 per month. 
Yeah, I know. It’s not that much. But it's already more than I asked someone earning $100 in my teaching career. So, I learned the technical side of writing with an extra hour spent practicing my writing, too. 
In these kinds of websites, time and speed matter. They asked me to write five articles per day. In each article, I should write 350 words at least. All of them should be submitted within the deadline. Otherwise, the editor will scold us badly. I did. 
For 6 months, I worked and worked and worked until I burnt out. So, I quit. Before I did, I realized I could earn more. 
From $250 as my initial monthly salary for a few months, I went up to $350. From there, my mind was ticked with the idea that something was out there for me online. I knew back then that an online opportunity was waiting for me. 
My First $500
I feel frustrated every time I change from one job to another because of this and that reason. It sucks. 
From 2014 to 2016, I worked in 5 different companies (as far as I could remember) and had to adjust to different work protocols and with different coworkers. 
My application could have been more attractive to most I applied for. They wouldn't bother looking at my resume if I were to return for a full-time teaching job again.
In 2016, I quit my work altogether and became officially unemployed. I spent my years in the house, surviving with whatever my parents had on the table. 
Imagine a 24-year-old achiever without a stable income living with her parents, makes me ask myself, “Will I end up like this until I become 40 years old?” 
It’s frustrating. Of course, I disliked being dependent on my parents, given that I was already old enough to start my new life alone. I know.
By the time I got married in 2017, my schedule was filled with hectic schedules from processing one paper to the other because of the Embassy, etc. So, I didn’t have the time to work at all. Plus, I had my running Etsy business back then, too. It was a headache. 
At the end of 2018, I got hired as a content writer for a Japanese guy running an online business (lead generation) which hooked me with a great idea. Lead Generation. 
His business introduced me to the whole world of business. As a news and gossip writer, I now have my chance to learn about business. Though I never graduated from a business course. 
But then, he wasn’t content with my work. So, I left and earned around $300 or so before I searched for a new job. This time, a Finnish businessman hired me for a $500 monthly salary. That’s per the agreement, excluding bonuses. 
His generosity made me say yes and work for him until now. I’m still writing stuff for him and making money while I run my websites. I didn’t have to work 9 to 5 as my previous jobs required me to as long as I accomplished my tasks. That’s it. 
Conclusion 
You know what, believe it or not, I was an overachiever. I had straight As from grade school until college. If not an A, I had a B as my lowest grade. Those grades were enough to impress someone in the corporate world. But it’s not. 
Success in any career doesn’t rely on grades and how well you performed academically. It’s about your tenacity, determination, hard work, and patience. 
Also, you must be humble enough to accept all the ridicule people will bash at you simply because they think you’re doing nothing at home. But you know yourself. You’re working hard. So hard. 
I succeeded as a writer because I worked hard for it. It took me years to get out of the prison of employment and prove to my parents and everyone that being a writer isn’t that bad. Never. 
It took me years to have them accept my newly found craft. I was born to be a writer, and I love to write anything I want to write about. Be it technical or not. Writing is about loving the process even though you’re a beginner and clueless about the industry. 
All you need to do is to keep going and never quit. If you have a big dream that would cause a riot in your family, chase it as long as it doesn’t lead to trouble (with the police, if you know what I mean). 
Even if your close family discourages you, keep dreaming. Never allow anyone to stop you because they think it’s unimaginable. That only proves the level of their beliefs. You know that you can do better. So, go for it.
How about you? Have you ever thought you’d become a writer and earn more in this industry than in your 9 to 5? 
0 notes
crispyblake · 2 years
Text
This is an old post I had when I graduated from UMass Lowell. I was annoyed about the commencement speakers and how universities/university politics are in general, and I just felt like I had to write something up. I posted it on medium originally but am moving it here just to keep it on record. It’s a little preachy and I don’t expect anybody to read it, but it helped me vent at the time.
UML Commencement Blog
May 20, 2018
Dispatch from UMass Lowell’s 2018 Commencement
AKA “UML Should Properly Pay its Faculty and Tell Raytheon to Go Screw”
Had I known in advance the amoral principles that would be celebrated or what an undeservedly self-congratulatory enterprise it would be, I would have skipped the UMass Lowell Commencement out of principle. Granted, I should’ve known the whole show would be outrageously smug, this being the common characteristic of literally every university commencement in human history. But, on the promise of sharing a memorable moment with friends, I let go of my cynicism going into the Tsongas Arena only for it to return very quickly just a few minutes in.
The first thing that irked me (well, the first thing besides the Sheriff of Middlesex County ominously beginning the ceremony by creating a war-drum like beat which I thought was going to kick off the start of a ritual sacrifice) was the university administration’s officials heaping praise upon themselves. They cited UML’s growth, and its growing recognition in a lot of different academic fields. They (rightly) stated that a large portion of this growing success lies with the university’s faculty. They called the professors world-renowned and praised the way they build relationships with students and aid them in personal growth and professional development. This praise for faculty members from administrators rang hollow on my ears, however, seeing as how the university has failed to properly compensate their “world-renowned” staff.
The university is currently in intense negotiations with various sections of its teaching staff. But where the most tension lies is with the adjunct faculty of UMass Lowell, who make up a significant number of the professors on campus and teach a majority of freshman and sophomore courses. The university currently pays them absolute garbage, and significantly less than how much adjunct faculty, performing the exact same job, are paid at other schools within the UMass system. The adjunct faculty’s union has been attempting to negotiate a fair contract for three years but has been getting jerked around by the university the entire time. All the while, the people within the administration (who contribute nothing of value at the school) have been spending hundreds of millions of dollars on sparkly new buildings and paying themselves undeservedly comfortable salaries. You would think that a school administration that’s willing to heap praise on its professors and use them as applause lines would also pay them properly and treat them fairly, but you would be wrong.
When administration officials mentioned the partnership between Raytheon and UML, they said the two sides worked with each other, “To (their) mutual benefit.” In other words, UMass Lowell gets some of that sweet, sweet blood money in exchange for Raytheon getting special privileges from the school’s respected engineering and research programs. This includes office spaces on campus used for both research and recruitment, their almost guaranteed presence at every career and job event at the university, and of course celebratory recognition at events such as this commencement. The fact that UMass Lowell is in a very close partnership with such an immoral company should be a fact that brings shame and disgust upon everyone involved. And, if the university were being run by people of conscience, which it evidently isn’t, this partnership would end immediately.
This ultimately brings us to the commencement address itself, by a presidential historian whose name I’ve already forgotten. In between sharing quips exchanged when he met the Bush family, the historian condemned viewing politics as an existential struggle between opposing interests and encouraged Americans to come together, end the “divisiveness” of modern politics and attempt to hear from opposing viewpoints. I’m sure this point of view is popular amongst the political elite in this country, such as the Bush family — a family responsible for, among other things, the creation of a mass surveillance program of people all over the world and every American citizen, the illegal torture of thousands of people across the world and the murder of a million Iraqis. “Americans should stop being so divisive and critical, and just unite behind their war criminal leaders!” Not every viewpoint is worth listening to. I don’t want to hear what the Bush family has to say about anything, the only exception being to maybe try and get an understanding as to how these sociopaths sleep at night.
But more problematic with the historian’s claim that politics isn’t an existential battle is that it’s completely ahistorical. Political struggle has always been a conflict between different interests — opposing sides — vying for power and resources. You can see that even just within UMass Lowell. You either support the UML adjunct faculty in their struggle to get fair compensation or side with the administration against them; you either support the university in its cozying up to war profiteers or you’re against it. As a great man and far more memorable historian once said, you can’t be neutral on a moving train. You must pick a side in the moral causes of our time. So, Mr. Commencement Speaker, you can take your kumbaya respectability politics and shove them up your ass.
And, on that positive note, happy graduation everybody!
0 notes
cienie-isengardu · 3 years
Text
axelzp replied to “The Bad Batch”:
I think most people take issue with Omega and TBB due to concerns over whitewashing. Also, what do you have against the explanation of the biochips? Personally, I always thought it fit Palpatine's controlling nature better than the idea of clones just getting a command from some random guy in a hood, telling them to kill the Jedi.
First off, I apologize it took me so long to answer. I tried to explain my reasoning in a short and coherent way as possible, but apparently the years of frustration about this issue needed more space to be properly addressed. So, in advance, sorry for text length.
From all TCW changes done to star wars, the chip-in-brain is one of my top 3 reasons to dislike the whole TV show, despite many of its good moments. I understand why authors chose this sub-plot that allows them to separate the visibly individual "good" clones (thus making them more likeable for the audience / marketing) from the “bad” that kill the Jedi but frankly, I find it a cheap and kinda problematic excuse. Clones were victims regardless of which version people will accept but I really despite the idea that Jedi were their beloved generals and commanders - so beloved that clones actually had nightmares about killing them waaay before Palpatine ultimately won which undermines the whole point of Order 66. 
Jedi could never expect clones to shoot them in the back because they were used to their unquestioned obedience from the start of war. It was common knowledge, repeatedly mentioned in sources like “Jedi Trial” that clones were “bred to war, bred to discipline, bred to obey without question the orders of the powers that paid for their services”. Clones were made that way by genetic manipulations and years of intensive training; an indoctrination that makes clone troopers believe they have obey, no matter what cost.
Some sources, like Clone Wars Adventures’ “Orders” outright show us the mindset of clones:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and We’ve got nothing but each other ad our orders.
Because of that worldbuilding, I prefer Legends take on clone obedience and the Jedi approach to the problem than what TCW created. I talked about it more here, but the general sense is that I feel cheated by the idea of chips that turn people into some “programmed” machines because in such way, TCW erased the Jedi & Republic part in abuse & enslavement of clone troopers, while at the same time giving an unrealistic idea that Jedi were so liked / respected when most of clones did not have any special bond with them. And this is less about if Jedi were good military leaders or not and more that as generals/commanders they didn’t interact that much with common troopers. Because the chain of command doesn’t work like that. I’m willing to buy the close(r) bond between Anakin & 501st because frankly Darth Vader himself from the start was built as someone with better relationships with common troopers / “normal” officers than with most of the high ranking officers presented on screen. I’m pretty sure some other Jedi were caring and liking clones (and vice versa) but it is impossible for generals to know and be so close to all of their troopers.
Above everything else, Legends created an interesting situation in which the Jedi Council / Order knew clones would follow orders no matter if those were right or not and were aware how dangerous it could be yet they still didn’t do anything about it, because the obedience of clones were beneficial for them. Jedi not only took for granted their obedience, they mistook it for respect.
Tumblr media
Which really speaks a lot about Jedi's own moral failing and/or lack of understanding the difference between those two terms.
In the Legends sources, there was no need for chips, really, when from the start Kaminoans tinkered with clone genome, created the effective system of “proper” education to mold clones into obedient soldiers and Republic wasn’t really interested to undo the damage done by such indoctrination. 
Before TCW brought the chips and “nightmares haunting clones” there were officially established Contingency Orders for the Grand Army of the Republic: Order Initiation, Orders 1 Through 150. A guideline for unexpected and/or critical situations, so the Great Army of Republic [GAR] would know how to proceed - especially when troopers were given contradictory orders. The orders (also known as Clone Protocols) weren’t secret and there is a big chance that Jedi knew it, if someone bothered to learn the manual. The whole formula of Order 66 was described as:
"In the event of Jedi officers acting against the interests of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander (Chancellor), GAR commanders will remove those officers by lethal force, and command of the GAR will revert to the Supreme Commander (Chancellor) until a new command structure is established."
And here how the scene played in the RotS novelisation:
That concealed compartment held a secure comlink, which was frequency-locked to a channel reserved for the commander in chief.
Kenobi nodded and spoke to his mount, and the great beast overleapt the clone commander on its way down into the battle.
Cody withdrew the comlink from his armor and triggered it.
A holoscan appeared on the palm of his gauntlet: a hooded man.
"It is time," the holoscan said. "Execute Order Sixty-Six."
Cody responded as he had been trained since before he'd even awakened in his creche-school. "It will be done, my lord."
The holoscan vanished. Cody stuck the comlink back into its concealed recess and frowned down toward where Kenobi rode his dragonmount into selflessly heroic battle.
Cody was a clone. He would execute the order faithfully, without hesitation or regret. But he was also human enough to mutter glumly, "Would it have been too much to ask for the order to have come through before I gave him back the bloody lightsaber. . . ?"
The order is given once. Its wave-front spreads to clone commanders on Kashyyyk and Felucia, Mygeeto and Tellanroaeg and every battlefront, every military installation, every hospital and rehab center and spaceport cantina in the galaxy.
So there is really no “random hooded guy” calling clones to kill Jedi but Chancellor himself using an appropriately secured military channel with confirmation of his identity to issue a legal order in a critical situation (an opportunity created by the Jedi Council themselves who went into the Senate building to kill Palpatine). So why the clones shouldn’t listen, when the order came directly from the Supreme Commander of the Great Army of the Republic? 
Of course, the movie (and novel based on it) alone has this weird addition like “yes my Lord'', what I personally consider as the cinematic way to show the switch from Chancellor Palpatine to Emperor Darth Sidious. Still, I’m willing to give some benefit of doubt about the modification made by Kaminoans and if Order 66 could trigger anything hidden in clone subconscious. But even if there was something, it didn’t erase their personalities or changed the way clones behaved like it happened in The Clone Wars and The Bad Batch.
One way or another, the Order 66 worked out because clones “have no malice, no hatred, not the slightest ill intent that might give warning. They are only following orders”. Which I guess comes down to how clone troopers were presented - or maybe rather how they were seen by other characters in the Legends. As more detached, combat pragmatic, toned down, to some degree isolated from the outside world, less individual. Regardless of what Jedi or Republic citizens thought about clones, it did not make them any less human beings.
And here comes the paradox of The Clone Wars. The TV show made great effort to humanize clones by presenting them as very individual, outstanding people which in itself is a great thing. The names, the tattos, the different paintings of armours, visible variety of behaviour. All great to make the audience see clones as human beings, to get emotionally invested into them, because the more likeable clones were the better for marketing the story (and the cynical part of me thinks it really comes down to making money, isn’t it?)
But this effort became also the trap and the inhibitor chips is the excuse to make such loved, caring and brave characters into the detached clones gunning down the Jedi in Revenge of the Sith. 
The things that irks me a lot about this situation is the feeling like fans started care for clones because they were made into different type of characters than what they were (similar like Anakin’s movie characterization was thrown out of the window, to make him more suitable for fans who wanted the badass typical male hero instead of introverted, conflicted and traumatized young man). The clones get the visible individuality to make them the heroes we should root for, but then there is the “magical” switch that will cut down their heroic deeds because now they are “bad” and stormtroopers can’t have any personality. Which is just… frustrating. 
Don’t get me wrong, I adore how clone troopers get more visible individuality (even if sometimes if felt too exaggerated), but the “not standing out from the group”  was something that kept clones alive on Kamino and I can see why it was used as coping mechanism (the safe option) during the war. I regret that The Clone Wars didn’t show the transition from AotC nameless troopers into such individuals and how much it happened thanks to Jedi, what may help to build the feeling of supposed strong bond between Jedi and troopers. Because frankly, when we met TCW!clones, they already have names, different colors and marks on armor plates and helmets and for all we know, they could create their own “culture” without Jedi influence.
The final part of why I hate the chip-in-brain sub-plot is how it changed clones. Because even if that was a means to force clones into killing Jedi & ensure that Order 66 will be carried on no matter what, it shouldn’t change them into bullies toward their own brothers. But now in The Bad Batch, the clones don’t speak between themselves, are aggressive toward others and generally act like assholes for no real reason. And yeah, I get this may be a cinematic metaphor for a change from “good” republic soldiers into “bad” imperial stormtroopers and most likely something along the way “Republic/Jedi gave you individuality, Empire takes that away” but frankly, Republic did not give anything to clones. It did not acknowledge their human right, didn’t have any plan for their future, didn’t pay for their service or more expensive medical treatment for that matter, did not teach them they could - should - make their own choices.
Now clones are cheering for the Empire because inhibitor chips! They are assholes, because inhibitor chips! They shoot their *beloved* Jedi generals because of the chips! 
And in a way, I get this resolution, the chips make it clear clones were victims. But even without them, they were victims from the start. Except now clones are “programmed” while in Legends the senate (a power paying for their life) officially and legally renamed Republic into Empire and clones were glad for still having a purpose in life. The war ended (thus their usefulness), but they were still needed - still wanted - instead of being put down or closed at Kamino or whatever. I can see why the uncertainty of the future made clones cheering up for the Empire. And frankly, I personally prefer them not caring for the political change (because why should they? It never was their job to *judge* the rightness of their superiors) instead of being “programmed” like some droids and playing the role of fodder to kill for the “good guys”.
Dunno, if I explained properly my issue with inhibitor chips, it just feels to me as not really convincing and a too risky concept in the bigger picture of the things and the fact that Jedi just like that ignored this suspicion matter of Tup and Fives and biochips doesn’t help either. Like I said, I understand why the chips were introduced to the story, as the excuse in the change of clone troopers’ behaviour but at the end of day, Legends worldbuilding will always make more sense to me. I don’t need overly done differentiation of clones to care for them as an individual human beings (and it kinda seems to me like that, clones suddenly became fan favorite when every looks or act differently but not when the AotC literally presented them as an army created to blindly obey Jedi/Republic) and I don’t blame them for sticking with Empire because what better option they had, considering their upbringing and the pathological system in which they lived all their life?
Dunno, I’m biased and may just have allergy to TCW in general.
As for Omega, I’m not really surprised about this concern, especially after seeing TBB’s version of padawan Kanan (that if not for A) some basic knowledge about his backstory and B) Depa Billaba calling him by name, I would probably never have figured out who he was supposed to be). But for Omega alone, I don’t mind her look, because I’m used to Legends!Jango’s biological family in which his mother and sister were both blond haired women and frankly, some “defective” clones (including Rex?) apparently could be blond too, so it seems like Jango’s genome has a recessive gene somewhere for that color of hair. I try to hold my judgment about Omega and her appearance until the full backstory will be revealed because there is still a chance that Fett’s DNA was mixed with someone else's (still I hope Omega is not force sensitive…). I mean, Hunter has heightened senses while Wrecker has almost supernatural strength and both traits seem to be not really human, so who knows what Kaminoans really did with them.
 I understand people’s emotional response to Disney’s approach to characters and their visual look, especially since it isn’t the first screw up in New Canon (the models for characters in general and New Mandalorians especially). I’m totally okay with people’s criticism of that matter and demanding from Disney more diversity and respecting the already established ethnicity of certain groups. I’m aware I may not be sensitive enough to that matter as some other people (even more with barely watching TV shows to have any current and up-to-date comparison to trends in cartoons) and I’m pretty sure more qualified / invested fans already wrote or will be writing soon great metas about that. But the thing that irks me is hearing people saying that Omega *can’t* be Jango’s clone - I don’t like this sort of exclusion based on someone’s look alone. She may not look like Fett or other (male) clones but it is not something Omega chose for herself and does not erase her connection to the rest of the Bad Batch. Being angry at Disney/creators for her look is a different matter I don’t have any problem with.
75 notes · View notes
dustofbrokenheart · 3 years
Text
The Covenant: A Little Jealousy
Tumblr media
Reid Garwin x Female Reader
Word Count: 1,886
Summary: Reid accompanies you to a grad student social and gets a little jealous. Inspired by @saviorsong​s headcannon! 
The night air was crisp and the moon shone brightly overhead. It was well into spring so you were able to go out in a thin coat and a dress without feeling the icy prick of freezing temperatures on your skin.
The two of you were on the way to a dinner social your department put together for its grad students. A chance to get to get to know one another outside of the stresses of school life. With midterms over with, you were more than ready to have some fun.
Almost immediately after getting the email, you sent in your RSVP and put Reid down for your plus one. He grumped a little when you told him but you didn’t take him too seriously. He’d be contrary even if it was something he was actually interested in, just to get a rise out of you.
Reid and you lived only a few blocks away from the restaurant district, and opted to walk instead of circling around forever trying to nab a parking spot. Streetlights lined other side of the road. There was ample lighting. Still, you somehow managed to lose your footing.
Another couple was coming the opposite direction on the sidewalk and you scooted over to make more room for them. But when you moved to the side, your foot got caught in a crack at just the right angle. Next thing you knew, your leg gave out and you were stumbling forward, arms swinging wildly in a failed attempt to regain your balance.
You thought that you were going to hit the cement, and hit it hard, but strong arms were suddenly wrapped around your waist. It was a little jarring to come to a complete stop and all the air in your lungs was pushed out.
“Whoa!” Reid exclaimed in your ear. “That was a close one.”
You craned your neck to neck at him with large eyes. He slowly lowered you back to your feet but didn’t remove his arms from you.
“Y-yeah,” you stammered, adrenaline still coursing through you. There was ringing in your ears and your muscles were like jello. “Sorry, I—I’m still a little shaken.”
He rested his chin on the top of your head. “You’re alright, babe,” he assured you, his presence a big comfort. “Now, let’s get moving. If they eat all the appetizers before we get there, I’m gonna be pissed.”
The adrenaline drained out of you instantly and there was no stopping the snort that came out of your mouth. “Gee. Thanks for the motivation.”
“I know, I know: I should really do motivational speaking for a living.”
He let you go but kept your hand in his. You started walking again and it took him by surprise that you were going faster than him. So much faster that he had to stretch his arm straight out if he wanted to keep holding your hand.
Reid squeezed your hand to get your attention. You saw his brow raised in question and you returned the squeeze to his hand. “What? I’m going to be mad, too, if we don’t get any appetizers.”
You arrived at the restaurant in no time, half speed-walking, half running the rest of the way there.
Inside the restaurant, the hostess led you upstairs to the room reserved for the department. There were a lot of familiar faces, classmates and professors alike. There were even some kids running around which added more energy to the affair.
Guided by his nose, Reid quickly found the appetizer spread on a table that lined the far wall. The choices were top notch. Egg rolls, hors d’oeuvres, and meat filled phyllo cups all made his mouth water.
And even better than the finger foods were the drinks.
“Am I dreaming? Or are they really serving alcohol here?” He pointed to some people who walked by with bottles of craft beer in hand.
“I guess,” you answered less enthused. You’d been to several conferences by that point and alcohol had been served at all of them. But you didn’t want to bring him down. “You should go see if they have your favorite.”
“I think I will… What do you want me to get you?”
You thought for a second. “I’m feeling like white wine tonight. See if they have any good selections?”
He brought your hand up to his lips to place a gentle peck to your knuckles and promised he’d be back. You shooed him away equal parts thrilled and flustered. Despite most people’s first impression of him, Reid was quite the romantic, and normally you loved him for it, but you could already feel the stares from his display.
Holding your head high, you smiled politely at the onlookers and quickly made your way to a table in the corner with familiar faces. You said hi to your friends and in turn they introduced you to their plus ones. The conversation flowed effortlessly and your table was almost obnoxiously loud in your laughter.
“So where’s the boyfriend? Or did you come by yourself?”
You turned to the body besides you. Ben and you had a friendship that went back to your first semester in the program. The two of you had been in the same orientation session and found that your personalities meshed together well.
You knew that he was genuinely interested in meeting the boy you constantly talked about. Reid, however, walked in at precisely the wrong moment and took the question as a challenge.
“The boyfriend is definitely here.”
Setting down a plate of food and your serving of wine, Reid draped his arm across your shoulders and planted a kiss on you. The use of tongue would’ve been obvious to anyone who watched, including poor Ben.
Breathless, you pulled back and Reid allowed it. He kept his arm where it was and turned to Ben with a hard grin. “Who’s this?”
You cleared your throat as if to wipe the slate clean, like swipe of an eraser on a chalk board. “Reid, this my friend and classmate Benedict. He goes by Ben for short. Ben, this is Reid, my boyfriend.”
“Yeah, we’re basically married,” Reid joked.
You elbowed him under the table and gave him a look. This was nothing for him to be jealous over.
Ben stuck his hand out but rather than shake it, Reid picked up something off of the plate and pushed a small piece into your mouth. His fingers linger on your lips as you chewed the unexpected bite. Your friend slowly lowered his hand, realizing that a hand shake would not be happening.
Unbothered, Reid chatted away. “Do you like it? I knew you would. When I saw they had some, I made sure to get a lot.”
You were put in an awkward position.
On one hand, if you paid too much attention to Ben, Reid was likely to get more territorial. On the other, if you gave into Reid’s posturing, he may feed into it and put on an even bigger air. Not to mention that Ben wasn’t stupid. He probably already figured out that Reid wasn’t a fan.
Yes. You would have to play this very delicately.
“It is really good. Thanks, baby.” He practically preened and continued to feed you. “Hey, Ben? Have you started thinking about your final project for Bird’s class yet?”
The two of you shared your respective plans for a class you were both in, Reid observing with sharp eyes.
“I feel stupid now that I know what you’re doing,” Ben confessed. “You’re so smart. Probably the smartest in our year.”
“Yeah. She is,” Reid answered before you had a chance to speak up. His jaw clenched and he pulled you slightly closer into his chest. The boys stared each other down until Ben abruptly glanced down at his stomach.  
A loud, angry gurgle rang out. Ben looked horrified as he excused himself in a panic, presumably to rush to the nearest bathroom.
“Nice to meet you, Benedict.”
You figured out what was going on when you saw Reid trying to hold his laughter in. You glared at the blonde and he couldn’t control himself any longer. He wiped a tear from his eye he was giggling so hard.
“Are you crazy?” you hissed, trying to keep the volume down despite your anger. “That was totally uncalled for!”
He tried waving it off. “He’ll be fine. The spell wasn’t even a strong one.”
“First, he’s a good friend and only a friend. He didn’t deserve to crap his pants because you got jealous. Second, you promised to stop using so much.”
Still, he insisted, “It’s not a big deal,” as he reached to pick at the food plate.
Not backing down, you took a grape from him and flung it at his face. He rubbed his forehead in frustration.
“Seriously? He’ll be fine in ten, fifteen minutes max. Until then, he can think about how douchey it is to flirt with other people’s girlfriends.”
Flirting? At what point was any of that considered flirting? “Just because someone gives me a compliment, doesn’t mean they’re interested in that way.”
At last he deflated a little. Scratched the back of his neck where skin met blonde locks. “Okay, maaaybe I overreacted…but can you blame me? You’re amazing and I’m just a guy that manages to screw up all the time.”
Reid was a great guy, no question about it, but his self-doubt got the best of him sometimes. Being the “black sheep” of the family and the Sons left him with insecurities that he still worked through. Getting him to admit he was wrong was always half of the battle. Once he did, it was a simple matter of reassuring him.
“Hey,” you said as you stroked the back of his hand. “How many times have we had this talk? I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not even for Benedict?” he pouted.
“Not even for Ben,” you answered, pulling him into a hug. “And why are you so hung up on calling him by his full name?”
Reid scoffed. “It’s so pretentious. He definitely comes from old money.”
“Umm, baby, you come from old money. Is that the pot calling the kettle black?”
He muttered so you couldn’t make out what he said.
“Okay, how about we make a deal,” you offered. He lifted his head, seemingly interested. “You apologize for your behavior when Ben comes back—and you’d better call him Ben. You do that and I’ll give you a reward when we get home.”
To show him the kind of reward you meant, you kissed the corner of his mouth, your finger trailing up his thigh. His eyes widened, the black of his pupil dilated in normal, non-magical way. Oh, he was undeniably down to agree to the deal.
You gave hi one last peck. “Now remember: Ben. Not Benedict.”
“I don’t know. Benedict has more of a ring to it—” He stopped mid-sentence when you glared. “Fine. I’ll be nice to Ben.”
He may be a dramatic goof, but he was your dramatic goof. And if he needed a reminder every now and then, along with some tough love, then you were happy to do it.
“Good boy,” you said with a big smile.
_______________
Hopefully I did jealous Reid justice! I haven’t written him in a while so I hope he’s not too off the mark. Older Reid still has childish impulses when he gets jealous but he is mature enough to admit when he’s in the wrong now. And even though Pogue is the head foodie, I think all the boys are big eaters with the magic use and working out. 
Thanks for reading :) 
80 notes · View notes
angellesword · 3 years
Text
SAVE ME | KTH (09)
Tumblr media
Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?
Alternatively:
The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.
Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au
Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: bullying (verbal and physical) blood, mention of demons’ power, death (heart attack)
SERIES: CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 10
*unedited*
*** i bet you’re not expecting this update!! ahhh i just want to finish this fic before my birthday!!! wish me luck bc i have less than a month to do so!
Tumblr media
Your father was the person who taught you the meaning behind some Korean names.
It was some sort of bonding you two did when you were still a kid. The most memorable part was when your mother told you that she was pregnant, thus giving you the opportunity to choose a name for your baby brother.
Of course your father helped you decide. He told you different names and its meanings.
Jeongguk. This was what stuck to you the most. It meant center of the country. The moment you had heard about this, you instantly knew it was the perfect name for the unborn brother.
Jeongguk was meant to shine, to be the center, not just of the country, but of the whole world.
But you failed him.
You failed when there was a very short period of time where you were supposed to be making him the center of your attention.
And so now you reap the harvest of your failure.
Jeongguk was now the center of your life, the main reason why you were stressed out.
"Thanks for letting me know.” You clutched the phone near your ear tighter. "I'll be there soon." It took a lot of energy to say this, but you had to.
It had been months since Jeongguk started living in your apartment. You took him in despite his antipathy. Like hell you'd allow him to go back to his old house.
A house full of liars and users.
Jeongguk wasn't lying when he said your father died of heart attack. Your brother only told you about this weeks after the burial.
Everything had been taken care of. Your aunties, the siblings of your father, paid for all the expenses, but they were demanding to be reimbursed now.
Jeongguk also said that your aunties sold your father's house so now he had no choice but to live with them, but to do so, he first needed to pay for the amount of money they spent for your father’s burial.
Nothing was free. This was what they claimed. The money Jeongguk owed them had interest as well. Aside from this, your aunties also told Jeongguk that he had to pay for his share in rent and utilities monthly. If he couldn't do this, then he wouldn't be allowed to live with them.
Jeongguk begged your aunties to give him some time. It was obvious that he didn't have money, mainly because the siblings of your father took all of his assets.
Your brother felt helpless. He considered living on the streets, but then your aunties told him to go to you. You inherited a lot of money and rumor had it that you leeched off of your rich boyfriends for their wealth.
Jeongguk had been through a lot that was why you couldn't really blame him when did bad things—his way to destress.
"What did he do this time?" But Taehyung wasn't having any of it.
He already knew that Jeongguk got in trouble as soon as he spotted you looking for your car keys, face pale because of trepidation.
You were probably going to wherever the hell Jeongguk was. This had been your new routine ever since the younger boy moved in with you.
You had no idea how many times someone called you to inform that your brother was in trouble.
"The principal called. Jeongguk's in the disciplinary room.”
"Ah," the devil chuckled, bringing the magazine he was reading down on his lap. "Let me guess, catfight?"
"Don't call it that," you gritted your teeth. "This is serious, Tae. We need to go now.”
Although you couldn't say that Taehyung was entirely wrong. The principal explained that the reason why Jeongguk was brought to the disciplinary room was because he beat up his classmates.
You didn't have the chance to ask why since the only thing that was in your mind was your brother's safety.
You were certain you're going to lose your mind if you didn't seem him now.
Fortunately Taehyung realized that you weren't playing around so he did everything in his power to help you.
You couldn't deny that his presence was needed. You had seen his efforts to help you 'raise' Jeongguk.
He didn't look like the devil you knew. It was as though he turned into a person, someone who was simply looking after you because he cared.
Taehyung was no longer punishing you for trying to kill yourself back then, but maybe his reason was because you didn't really have the time to think about suicide now.
As stated, all you wanted to do was help your brother. You were trying to show him how sorry you were because he had to experience horrible things because of you.
It wasn't easy though. You felt like Jeongguk was going out of his way just to spite you. This was evident when you heard his response as to why he beat up two of his classmates.
"They're making fun of my satoori accent.”
You facepalmed. You couldn't believe he was capable of hurting people because of something like this. Jeongguk grew up in Busan and it had only been months since he transferred here in Seoul to study and live with you.
It was natural to still speak with satoori accent. Jeongguk should have just let it go and no—you were not siding with his enemy. They bullied your brother, but then Jeongguk's action was worse.
The two boys he beat up weren’t doing well. The blood on their faces said so. Your stomach was actually turning upside down just by looking at them.
You felt so bad.
But feeling bad wasn't enough.
You knew you had to face the consequence of Jeongguk's action.
No more running away.
"I'm sorry." Your lips trembled as you look at the parents of the victims.
Before they could speak, you already force Jeongguk to get on his knees.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Jeongguk screamed at you, yet you ignored him.
You held Jeongguk down, still forcing him to bow down. You were doing the same thing. Your knees hurt, but it didn't matter.
"Apologize to them, Jeongguk." You whispered to your brother.
He was struggling to remove your hand that was placed on his shoulder, the same hand that was forcing him down.
"I didn't do anything wrong!" Jeongguk was glaring at you.
This whole situation was like a slap in your face. You were forcing Jeongguk to do the things you didn't do when you hurt people in the past.
You could see yourself in him, but he didn't get the protection you had before.
Your mother tolerated your misconduct; you weren’t planning on doing the same.
"Apologize or you won't be getting your share." You whispered with force again.
Jeongguk's gaze darkened.
"You wouldn't dare."
"You very well know that I have the means to cut you off, Kookie." Your menacing tone was enough to send shiver down his spine.
You always got what you wanted. Jeongguk knew he would lose if he defied you.
It was better to say sorry to these dipshits rather than lose his share. He couldn't let you take away everything from him again.
So with his jaw still tensed, Jeongguk slowly turned to the parents of his enemies.
"I'm sorry." His heart was clenching as he said this. It was so difficult. "It's my fault so I'm willing to face the consequence of my action."
To face the consequence of my action. This was something you didn't get to do, yet you knew how painful it was to be the bigger person.
If you wanted, you could simply pay these people to let Jeongguk off the hook, but as stated, you wouldn't do that.
Jeongguk had the chance to be the person you should have been.
This was the right thing to do. The mistake must end with you.
"Don't think for a second that we'll forgive just because you apologized." One of the victim's parents glared at you. "You're a piece of shit. You are raising a monster!"
That was the last straw for Jeongguk. He was about to attack the parent, luckily Taehyung was able to stop him.
Your heartbeat doubled. You knew Jeongguk's action would drive them even madder, and so you bowed even lower, almost kissing the floor.
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry!" You cried.
Taehyung came to know that you were just distracting the parents, so he did what he thought you wanted.
He dragged Jeongguk out of the room before he hurt anyone else.
"My brother and I won't run away. Please. We're sorry!" You crawled until you were just inches away from the parents.
You clasped your hands together, looking up.
Never in your entire life did you imagine doing this, but this was the least thing you could do for Jeongguk.
And so somewhere between sobs and the principal asking you to stand up, you managed to bargain with them. You were going to accept what they wanted, provided that they wouldn't be pressing legal charges against your brother.
They only agreed with this term because you didn't budge when they claimed they wanted Jeongguk to be expelled from this school. This was his punishment. Moreover, you had to pay for the medical expenses of the kids.
That was the end of discussion. You immediately ran out of the room to meet your brother and Taehyung, unfortunately you couldn't contact the both of them.
You didn't know, but Taehyung used his power to teleport him and Jeongguk to your apartment.
Taehyung didn't have much of a choice since the younger man kept on struggling to get away.
At least the action shut up Jeongguk for a short while.
"W-Wait!" To say that he was surprised to witness (and experience) Taehyung's teleportation ability would be an understatement.
Jeongguk was actually flabbergasted.
"I—we..." The younger boy's jaw drop, he blinked rapidly as he examined the place.
He wasn't tripping. He was definitely inside your apartment.
"How did this happen? W-What are you?" Jeongguk was panicking.
He liked to act tough; however he was still a boy. He couldn't fight someone like Taehyung, especially now that he had seen what this devil was capable of doing.
"Ah, it's simple." Taehyung flashed his boxy smile, completely unaware of the fear he was causing Jeongguk to feel.
"I'm the devil. I can do all kind of things—" he showed off more by levitating.
Jeongguk felt like he was going to pass out.
What the fuck.
But Taehyung was not done yet.
Still floating, Taehyung moved closer to your brother. The latter couldn't step backward since his back was already resting against the wall. Besides, he was too stunned to even move.
"—including this," without a warning, Taehyung touched the corner of Jeongguk's lips.
The seventeen year-old boy could only watch as the devil's hand sparkled.
Jeongguk felt strange at first, but then he could feel his bruise and scratches healing.
The two boys who bullied him still managed to throw some punches. It hurt and as seen, it bruised.
"There." Taehyung broke into a much bigger grin. "You look brand new."
Jeongguk touched his face. It didn't hurt anymore.
"A simple thank you would do." The devil's lips protruded into a pout when Jeongguk simply stared at him, saying nothing.
Minutes passed. Taehyung was actually done preparing hot cocoa for him and Jeongguk, yet the latter was still frozen on his spot.
"Why?"
Taehyung was expecting your brother to express his gratitude now that he mentioned how he wanted Jeongguk to say thank you, but your brother was exactly like you—always saying the wrong things.
"What do you mean why?" Taehyung handed the younger boy the cup of cocoa.
Jeongguk took it because he was freezing. It was cold outside and he couldn't deny that he was still a bit shaken after witnessing some bizarre...things.
"You said..." Jeongguk gulped. "You're the devil, so why did you heal me? Why are you helping me?"
Taehyung's brow shot up. Huh. His similarity to you was uncanny.
"That's your concern?" The devil shook his head, there was a smile on his lips. He thought Jeongguk was going to ask why he was lying, or why devils exist—things normal people asked.
"No, it's not," Jeongguk sighed, finally moving around. He paced back and forth after placing the hot cocoa on the table.
He scratched the back of his head as he stared straight into Taehyung eyes.
"I have a lot of concerns, okay!? I don't know why my sister's suddenly acting like she cares, I don't why I feel indifferent when I should be mourning the death of my father! I don't know how you managed to teleport! I'm—"
"Hey..." Taehyung touched the either side of Jeongguk's shoulders, forcing the younger to look at him.
"It's okay. You're okay..."
The devil figured that your brother was having a panic attack. He was probably so overwhelmed with everything that was happening. It didn't help that Taehyung surprised him by revealing his true identity.
Taehyung was such an idiot.
"I'm just so confused." Jeongguk managed to whisper. Tears filled his eyes.
Taehyung helped your brother sit on the couch. He was telling Jeongguk to breathe.
It took a while, but the younger boy managed to steady his breathing. Taehyung gave him more time to calm down before speaking again.
Both of them were sitting on the couch. Jeongguk was staring into the space while the devil was looking directly at your brother.
"I guess I really caught you off guard, huh?" Taehyung chuckled softly. He was carefully observing Jeongguk's expression.
"Were you telling the truth?" Your brother turned to look at Taehyung, which the latter didn't expect. He nodded nonetheless.
Taehyung was selfish. He said things just because. He never cared about what others would feel, but he learned fast. He realized that he shouldn't have revealed his identity just like that.
But he couldn't lie now, could he?
"It's true. I'm a devil." He smiled sheepishly. "The devil of death."
Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He tried to remember if he smoke pot today, but he didn't.
There were only two probable reasons why this was happening.
First: he was going crazy.
Second: Taehyung was telling the truth.
"You can ask your sister about me if you want. She knows."
Jeongguk sucked in a breath once more.
"If you're telling the truth...then...why..." He didn't know if he could question the devil.
Jeongguk was scared of his answer.
"Why did I heal you when I'm supposed to destroy you?" And so Taehyung completed the younger boy's question.
Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek, nodding.
"It's a long story so I'm just going to tell you one thing.”
For some reason your brother nodded. He was captivated by the devil too. The same feeling you experienced when you first met Taehyung.
"Everything changes, Jeongguk." The devil uttered seriously. "Be it because of a person, experience, or even thing."
Taehyung laughed when he pointed at himself.
"Just look at me. Who would have thought that the devil of death would end up healing a mere mortal like you?"
Temporary, permanently, good change, bad change.
At the end of the day, it was still a change. This change would still affect something that could last forever.
"So yeah," Taehyung clasped his hand together. "I know it's ironic for me to say this, but there's goodness in every person. The one who hurt you before is probably out there, doing everything they can to help you."
Jeongguk knew exactly what Taehyung was talking about. He wasn't really being subtle about it. He used they, yet he was referring to you.
"I'll take that in mind," this was all your brother could say before retreating to his temporary bedroom.
Moments later, you arrived.
"Whoa.” The devil grimaced upon seeing your face.
You looked awful. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were bloody red. You were also shaking. It was cold outside.
"I-Is Jeongguk here? Is he safe? Did you treat his wounds? Do we need to bring him to the hospital—"
"Calm down, Barbie." Taehyung laughed, taking your cold hands to warm them up.
"Your brother is fine," he brought your hands closer to his lips, blowing hot air on them. "I may or may have knocked some senses into him."
You weren't sure about that. Jeongguk was a tough cookie. He had a rough childhood because of you.
"You didn't coerce him, did you?" You crinkled your eyes and Taehyung gasped dramatically.
"What do you take me for?" He tightened his hold on your hands. "I don't do what is not needed, you know?"
"Right." He was clearly talking about what he had to do back when you met Cha Eun Hye at the hospital.
"Jeongguk is sleeping now. I treated his wounds. Don't worry," he winked, though he didn't tell you that he used his power to heal your brother.
He didn't want you to freak out, especially because you seemed...tired.
"Thank you." You sincerely said.
You couldn't imagine this day without Taehyung by your side.
"No worries." The devil licked his bottom lip; his soft eyes made you feel like you were floating in the air.
You had never seen him this calm. The aura surrounding him felt refreshing.
He was still holding your hands.
"—you know I'll do anything for you," Tae continued and suddenly, you no longer felt like you were flying. Right now, you felt as if your heart was sinking deeper and deeper that you thought it was better to just let go and get lost in the abyss of his golden eyes.
You knew he was only saying this because your lives were connected, but the past months didn't feel like an act.
It felt real—like his intention wasn't a selfish act.
You realized that it didn't matter, not when you wanted to be selfish too. Today, you wanted to indulge on his warmth, to the comfort he gave.
And so you embraced him.
The devil didn't hesitate.
He hugged you back.
Tumblr media
88 notes · View notes
Text
The Batboys Growing Up as Yanderes Part 1: Bruce Wayne
This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of death, murder, stalking, kidnapping and unhealthy obsession. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.
As always feedback is welcome.
Tumblr media
Something broke in Bruce the night his parents died, and it only got worse as he grew older. It started with Bruce becoming afraid that everyone he loved would leave him. Even you, the girl he’d known for as long as he could remember. As time passed, that fear would lead to an all-consuming need to keep you by his side.
Alfred had tried to tell himself that this was normal, Bruce had just lost the two most important people in his life, and that he would grow out of it once he realized you weren’t going anywhere.
Alfred had never been more wrong. Once he realized that the changes in the boy were permanent, he was left with a choice. He could continue to be willfully ignorant, or he could accept that the young master wasn’t entirely sane and do his best to help him not get caught.
Alfred loved Bruce like he was his own, so he chose the latter.
As time wore on and Bruce’s feelings for you became more romantic than platonic things got worse. Bruce was always convinced that someone would try to take you from him, that you were going to leave him behind in the dust, or that you’d end up dead like his parents.
It didn’t matter that you were from one of Gotham’s more destitute neighborhoods and could only afford to survive because Bruce started paying your bills when the power was cut while your dad lay strung out on the worn old sofa.
Nor did it matter that you were only able to attend Gotham Academy because he paid for it. Bruce knew the world would try and take you from him one way or another, but he wouldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let that happen.
So he subtly sabotaged your grades so that they were barely good enough to keep you in the prestigious school, really the only reason he paid the tuition was that he liked to keep you close; you wouldn’t need a college education or a job. After all, he’d take care of you.
The dark parts of his brain kept whispering to him that you couldn’t leave if you weren’t able to look out for yourself, it didn’t matter if you could anyways, that’s he was there for. What good was being a billionaire if you couldn’t use that money to make sure that the girl you loved was safe and well kept?
Bruce thought one of the other kids was going to realize that you were everything good about the world concentrated into its purest form, and they were going to take you from him. It didn’t matter how many times Alfred tried to convince him it wasn’t true, that even if they did try and win you over, you’d never just abandon him.
Bruce’s possessiveness came to a head when you were fifteen, one of the kids from school wanted to take you out on a date and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Bruce pulled you in and kissed you fervently right there in the middle of the hallway. It was a statement you were his, and no one was going to take you from him.
When the kid who was hitting on you was found stabbed to death behind a bar that was known for overlooking age if you paid well enough, who would suspect Bruce Wayne, after all, he’d gotten the girl. Even if someone did think Bruce did it, what evidence could they find when the culprit dumped the knife in the river and burned everything else.
It wasn’t even a year after you first kissed that Bruce proposed, he’d done it on your sixteenth birthday. It started out with diner at the manor, he’d made sure to have the whole nine yards ready, candles, music, and a spread of your favorite foods. When he got down on one knee didn’t even hesitate when you said yes. Little did you know that you were celebrating when you should have been running because once that ring was on your finger, there was no going back; you were going to be Mrs. Wayne for the rest of your life, whether you liked it or not. 
The ring had been in the Wayne family since they founded Gotham, students and teachers alike knew that ring, because it meant that the person who owned it would have a level of power and prestige only a Wayne could achieve.
Suddenly teachers were a lot nicer to you, and the students who used to hiss at you over your lack of wealth wanted to be your friend. You weren’t stupid enough to fall for any of it; they just wanted to be your buddy because when you and Bruce got married, it would give you a level of influence only a Wayne could achieve.
Bruce hadn’t planned on you freezing everyone besides him out, but he can’t say that he’s too terribly upset by it. It just makes it easier for him to keep you for himself.
Bruce’s protective traits don’t surface until several weeks after the engagement, he gets a call from your father’s loan shark demanding ransom money. Apparently, dear old dad traded you in exchange for his debts being forgiven. The fiancée of Bruce Wayne would fetch a lot of cash; even more then the twenty-grand, her father was in debt.
Bruce wasn’t Batman yet; he knew he wouldn’t be able to take out an entire crew of crooks. So, he called the one man in the GCPD he knew he could trust, Detective James Gordon. Gordon came up with a plan to get you out safely. If it wasn’t for him, Bruce wasn’t even sure if he’d have gotten you back alive.
That moment is what sealed his fate as Batman, sure he’d been toying with the idea before, but now he knew that he’d have to make Gotham a safer place for you and everyone else who lived in it. Only there was something he needed to do first.
Sure, Bruce wanted to give you the big fancy wedding you deserved, but that would have to wait until he got back. Right then, he only wanted to ensure that you had unhindered access to the Wayne fortune while he was away so that you wouldn’t go without, Bruce also knew it would make it harder for you to leave him if the distance got too much for you to take.
It hadn’t taken much convincing from Bruce to get your dad to agree to sign the papers after all the man owed him big time, because your ransom had nearly been three times your dad’s debt. It had taken even less persuasion to get your dad to stay in Vegas after the wedding, Bruce didn’t want him anywhere near you.
It was only about a month after the wedding that Bruce left Gotham, though over the nine years he was gone, he never failed to send a letter each month. Sometimes they’d come with a gift, a dress from Paris, a jade hairpin from china, a painting from Venice, among other things.
When Bruce decided that it was time to come home he surprised you by coming back on your anniversary, he called Alfred as soon as he landed in Gotham and asking him to pick up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and to make sure dinner was perfect.
Bruce may have not been ready for Gotham to know that he was back yet, but he’d been away from you for nine years, far too long.
You flew across the room and in his arms in a heartbeat when he walked into the manor. He’d gotten taller while he was away, broader two. It was almost impossible to believe that he was the same person who’d left Gotham nine years ago, but it was him, you’d recognize those eyes anywhere.
You realized he’d left as a boy, but he’d come back a man. The thought of how many years you’d lost brought tears to your eyes. Bruce gripped you tighter as you fought back your tears, the years had been lonely for you, but for him, they’d been agony, now that you were back in his arms he wasn’t ever going to let you go again.
It hadn’t taken you long after his return to realize Bruce was no longer the boy you’d fallen in love with, he was less open about his feelings with you and distant. You’d also changed over the near-decade the two of you had been apart. You realized how unhealthy it was for Bruce to want to know where you were at twenty-four-seven, or that he wanted to control who you talked to.
When you were younger, you brushed these off as him just wanting to keep you safe, but now you understood that something was seriously wrong with your husband. The final straw was when you’d found out he’d been stalking you over the bat-computer. He’d investigated every aspect of your life from when he was gone
You packed your bags and tried to make your way out of Gotham, maybe even to leave the country, but you hadn’t even made it off the manor’s grounds. There was a sharp sensation on the back of your neck, and before you knew it, Bruce had caught your falling body in his arms.
Bruce had been afraid this day would come, and always he’d been prepared for it. There was a room in Wayne manor that he’d have to keep you in until you realized that staying with him would be the best thing for you.
Bruce held you to his chest as he walked to the room. He wasn’t sure if he was more angry or sad about you trying to leave him, but that didn’t matter, you were his wife, and he wasn’t going to let you go. Not now, not ever.
He hoped that in time you’d understand that it’d be better, you’d be safe, and Bruce would make sure that you were well cared for, heck all you had to do was ask for it and he’d give you the world. The only thing he wouldn’t do was let you leave him. You were his wife, and it was going to stay that way until he drew his last breath.
Tags:
@yanderepeterparker
@idkmanicantenglish​
717 notes · View notes
deadanddeactivated · 4 years
Note
Oooh and a Fae one, "You helped me. And now I will help you."
@magpiemorality​ said: That last one with Roman and any side!!
Favours
Ships: Prinxiety, Dukceit Characters: Roman, Virgil.  Remus and De mentioned, Pats there for a little bitSummary: “You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  Funny how a phrase can mean so many things.
Notes: I’m not sure how this ended up prinxiety but it did so i hope you dont mind and its also a lot fluffier than the last one.  I hope you enjoy!!
Ao3 || KoFi
--
“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  The first time Roman says it is immediately after the human has freed him.  The iron cuff lays on the forest ground, mechanical lock picked with learned skill and the runes picked with unintentional intent.  It had taken an hour, an hour the human had spent calmly speaking to him while he focused.  
He hadn’t known what Roman was, that was clear from the moment he stepped into the clearing.  He’d so foolishly given his name.  He was lucky everything Roman was had been suppressed by those runes.  Or perhaps unlucky, a returned name was an easy favour to give.  
And an easy favour appeared to be what Virgil wanted, staring at the freed fae with wide and panicked eyes.  An easy favour isn’t what Roman wants, too amused by Virgil’s fright.  It was so different to what he’d shown just moments ago when he was convinced Roman was a human victim or some cruel madman.
“I didn’t, I didn’t help you for a favour.”  Virgil says, taking another step back and gulping.  “You don’t, I mean, I don’t want anything in return.  Thank you.”  He adds, desperately trying to cling to manners even when it’s obvious he wants to run.  
An easy favour won’t do at all.
“You’re owed a favour.”  Roman says, hoping his amusement isn’t too obvious.  He doesn’t want to scare Virgil off completely.  
“I really shouldn’t be.”  Virgil argues.  “I was just helping, it’s only right.”  
“It’s only right I help you in return.”  Roman says, mouth twitching with a smile he really shouldn’t show.  The human’s eyes dart around, clearly trying to think of something to say.  
“I can’t, I can’t think of anything I need help with.”  He says after a moment.  “So, consider us even.  I have to go home now.  Thank you.”  He adds, giving a quick, polite bow before walking from the clearing.  As soon as he thinks he’s out of sight, he starts running.  
Clearly he doesn’t know that being owed a favour means Roman can’t hurt him.  Clearly he doesn’t know much about favours at all.  One can’t simply refuse a favour, not a favour owed by the fae.  It’s refreshing, Roman thinks, to see a human that doesn’t know how a favour can be lorded over a fae.
Or maybe he just wouldn’t.  After the hour they’d spent together, Roman would believe it.
--
“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  The second time Roman says is two days later.  It’s the first time he’s felt Virgil need help since they met and Roman jumped on the chance to appear.  Things have been settled back home - the witch that captured him has been dealt with, his brother has been assured he’s fine - Roman has nothing better to do than to grant Virgil a favour.
Or, more accurately, watch Virgil jump.  Which Roman appearing most certainly made him do, the human almost stumbling back into the aisle behind him.  De would be proud of how well Roman managed to hold in his laughter.
“I, uh, I thought we were even.”  Virgil manages once he’s recovered.  
“That’s not how favours work.”  Roman says.  “You’re still owed one.”
“I don’t need help.”  Virgil says and then quickly adds, “thank you.”
“You clearly need help.”  Roman says, trying and failing to hold back a smirk.  “Are all mortals so short?”
“I’m not short.”  Virgil huffs, glaring for a moment before quickly looking away.  “You’re just tall.”
“I am.”  Roman agrees.  “But you’re still short.”  He grabs the box of biscuits Virgil couldn’t reach and places it inside the human’s trolley. 
“Thank you.”  Virgil says, sounding more annoyed than he probably means too.  “We’re even then.”  This time Roman can’t help but laugh.  He immediately regrets that, it makes Virgil tense with fear.
“That’s not how favours work.”  He says, forcing himself to calm down and lean away from Virgil’s space.  That calms the human a little bit.  “You saved my life, I’m in your debt until I can do something of equal value.”  Virgil actually did more than that, considering Roman was merely a trap, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I was only trying to help.  I don’t need anything in return.”  Virgil mumbles.
“That doesn’t make you any less entitled to it.”  Roman grins.  Then, when Virgil blinks, he disappears. 
--
“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  It’s become something of a greeting over the last few weeks, one that never fails to make Virgil jump.  At least a little bit anyway.  Lucky for Virgil, today only gets a little jolt and the stack of papers in his hand are mostly okay.  
“I don’t need help.”  Virgil huffs.  He’d accidentally given up trying to be polite, but when Roman didn’t turn him into a frog (or whatever it was mortals think the fae do) he gave it up on purpose.
“Why not?”  Roman asks, taking half the stack of papers with limited complaining on Virgil’s part.  Maybe he thinks all these little favours will add up in the end.  Jokes on him, Roman’s doing this because he likes Virgil’s company.
“I can handle school myself.  I don’t need or want to cheat.”  Virgil says.
“You don’t know I was going to cheat for you.”  Roman claims, smirking when Virgil just shoots him a look.  “Well it wouldn’t be cheating, exactly, you’d just get to know everything right away.”
“And then what?  I’d still have to sit through my lectures.  I’d get bored.”  Virgil argues.
“Alright, alright.”  Roman gives in.  “Okay, I’ll make it so you can see the answers on the test before you write them.”
“That’s cheating!”  Virgil snaps then sighs.  “I don’t need help.”  He repeats.
“Fine.”  Roman sighs, dramatic as Remus.  He still works Virgil to the teachers office, holding the other half of the papers until there’s too much risk of being seen. 
He still works a little magic to make Virgil’s teacher lay off.
It’s not a favour, Virgil might never even notice, and De would likely call it a waste of time.
Roman thinks it’s worth seeing a little weight lift off of Virgil’s shoulders.
--
“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  Roman says, a little more seriously than usual, late one night while Virgil pours over bills.  Virgil looks his worst when he’s like this.  Hair a mess, reading glasses on his face, a notebook covered in numbers and priority lists.  Normally there’s a level of calm to his appearance, even if he still looks like a mess.  But his son’s in bed and there’s no one to act for.
Roman hates looking at Virgil like this.
“I don’t need help.”  Virgil says, tired and annoyed and over it.  Without a thought, Roman has a cup of honey milk preparing.  (He’d never drink it himself, of course, but it seems to help mortals calm down).
“I could make it easy.”  He could.  He would.  It’s not a normal favour, Roman knows that.  Most fae want easy favours, they want the debt paid immediately.  Making Virgil’s life easy?  That’s a favour that will last a lifetime.  A debt that would last a lifetime.
Roman wonders if Virgil understands the significance of that.
“No.”
Probably not.
“Why not?”  Roman asks, quiet and soft and with his back turned to Virgil so he doesn’t see how much it stings.
“There’s strings.”  Virgil mumbles, he sounds so tired.  “With any magic favour, there’s strings.  If you make my life easier, you’re making someones harder.”
“You don’t know that.”  Roman claims.  Even he doesn’t know that.  But he doesn’t really think about it either, so…
“Money doesn’t come from nowhere.”  Virgil agrees.  Roman shrugs.  Human money is a forgein concept to him.  “It comes from someone.  What if they need it?”
“What if they don’t?”
“What if they track it down?”  
“What if they can’t?  It’s magic.”
“What if they get a different fae, or a demon, or something to get revenge?  They’re magic, they could figure it out.”  
“I’d protect you.”
“You wouldn’t owe me a favour.
I’d do it anyway.  
Roman doesn’t say that because he’s pretty sure Virgil would understand what that meant.  Instead he lets them drop into silence.  Safe, if sombre, silence.
“Alright.”  Roman eventually gives up on silence too.  “So your favour can’t have strings, and it can’t be cheating.”  He says.  “Anything else?”
“I don’t want a favour.”  Virgil sighs.  Roman just hums and a few minutes later, when Virgil slumps against the table asleep, he carries the human to bed.  Once his human is tucked in, safe and sound and maybe admired for a moment, Roman returns to the table.
Well, he thinks with a sigh, he’ll have to ask De how human money works.
--
“You helped me.  And now I will help you.”  The next time Roman says it is the very next morning, when Virgil stumbles from his room to find Roman making pancakes.  Patton is already practically breathing them in, apparently unbothered by the stranger in their kitchen.  “No strings attached.”  Roman adds, when Virgil continues to look confused.
“No strings?”  He repeats, frowning.  “How?”
“I’m going to make your life easier.”  Roman explains, rather proud of himself for that.  “I don’t need magic for that.”
“Does it even count as a favour then?”  Virgil asks, still frowning but taking a few steps into the kitchen.
“Probably.  No one’s ever tried.”  Roman admits with a shrug.  “It’ll take a while though, so you’re pretty stuck with me.”  He adds, like he’s not at all worried Virgil will recoil at the idea and decide his real favour is for Roman to go forever.
Virgil doesn’t do that.  Instead he just stands for a few more minutes, frown still on his face, and then he sits at the table.  
“Okay.”  He agrees.  “I need your help.”
Roman doesn’t even try to control his grin as he places a plate of pancakes in front of Virgil.
“So does this mean Roman’s my new dad now?”  Patton asks about two seconds later, making Virgil choke on his first bite of pancake.
He avoids the question, Roman notices with hopeful glee.
--
There are strings, Virgil learns later.  They're just of the brother-in-law-kind.
Two strings, to be specific.  They don’t tell Virgil their names, even after Roman does.  They’re simply the Duke and Deceit. Which makes zero sense because the first is King of his court and the second is still fae so he can’t lie?  
His pair make no sense to Virgil, and they're a bit insufferable but he puts up with them.  After all, he had a string of his own.  
Patton gave Roman his name immediately, much like Virgil had (he’s still kicking himself for that).  Unlike with Virgil, Roman was fully fae when he was given Patton’s name.  He gave it back just as quickly, protected and safe in Patton’s hands although it would take Patton years to understand that.
Watching the two always makes Virgil’s heart swell, makes him wonder why he was so nervous about letting the fae into his life in the first place.  Roman clearly adores Patton, so it’s only fair Virgil tolernate Duke and Deceit (except he doesn’t just tolerate them at all, he loves his brothers-in-law and he’s not fooling anyone).
384 notes · View notes
themollyjay · 3 years
Text
Making Writer's Block Your Bitch
So, I try to have a coherent topic for these posts. I figure if I’m putting up content to try to encourage people to give me money over on my Patreon, I owe them good content. Today though, I’m cheating a bit, because it’s been a rough week, and honestly, I’ve had writer's block from hell.
The thing is, I don’t really get writers block the same way most people do. I hear people talk about how their characters just won’t talk to them, or how they don’t know what happens next, now how they don’t have any ideas, and so on and so forth. When I get writer's block, it’s generally none of those things. My writer's block comes in the form of exhaustion. When I can’t write, I can’t sleep, and when I can’t sleep, I can’t write. It gets to be a vicious cycle, which is why I’ve only managed to turn out about 14K words this week instead of 20K or so on Transistor, plus whatever other things I happen to knock out during the week. But writer's block is always a fun topic for writers to talk about, and also a fun way to piss off everybody around you, and hey, I’m sleep deprived enough to not care how bad an idea that is, so away we go.
I do want to start with a caveat though. If you are having difficulty writing because of depression, or some other form of mental illness, what I am about to say does not apply to you. It just doesn’t. Depression and other forms of mental illness are just that, illnesses. I wouldn’t expect someone who does manual labor to walk off something like multiple sclerosis, so I don’t expect someone who does mental labor to ‘walk off’ something like clinical depression.
That said, I think by and large, a lot of people who complain about writer's block are people who have failed to learn their craft.
What do I mean by that you ask? Good question. I mean that there are a lot of people out there who are writing, and who are absolutely capable of producing wonderful stories, who don’t know how story structure works. They don’t understand concepts like narrative promise, foreshadowing, Chekov’s gun, characterization, character motivation and things like that.
Let me explain.
When I start writing, I generally have a pretty good idea of who my characters are, where they are, where I want them to end up, and the first two or three major plot beats. That’s it. Now, I don’t always work that way, but I have found that I generally have an easier time, and honestly I generally produce better work when I do. I am also about a million times less likely to run into the dreaded writers’ block. Why? Because I understand how story structure and craft work. I understand narrative promise, foreshadowing, and so on.
But how does all of that help with writers block you ask? Good question. It’s because if you know how all of those things work, if you get stuck, what you have already written will tell you where to go next. If you’re stuck, go back and reread what you have written, and ask yourself “What is the next logical step?”, “What would the character I’ve been writing for however many thousand words do in this situation?”, “What resolution to this situation is foreshadowed by what I’ve already written?”, “What have I promised the reader?”, “What gun did I show on the wall?”
I’ll give you an example. I wrote a story a couple of years back that I knew was going to end in disaster. It pretty much had to in order to set up the sequel. This thing is, I wasn’t really sure how the disaster was going to play out for the longest time, but as I got closer and closer to the end of the story, I went back and reread what I’d written up until that point, and something that stuck out to me was that I had made a point of the fact that the characters in the story always met by the bike rack after school. It was something that got mentioned a lot in the story, and in the end, the bike rack became my Chekov’s gun. The bike rack became a major player in the disaster at the end of the story.
What it really comes down to is that if you study stories, good stories, and you figure out how things are set up and then paid off, when you get blocked, you can go back and look at what you’ve written and then ask yourself “What have I set up, and if I were the reader, what payoff would I expect from what I have set up?” The story should answer the question for you.
4 notes · View notes
tricktster · 4 years
Note
Do you regret your doctorate, or was it worth it?
WOOOOOORTH IT... but I am pretty aware that I’m something of an exception to the rule.
So, with rare exceptions, you can’t work in my industry unless you go through the other exact sort of program that I did, and it’s a tough one, and unlike other grad/post-grad programs (which you should really only do if your expenses are being entirely covered by the program, kids), this particular area of study doesn’t come with stipends - you gotta pay for it, it’s a LOT, and very little of it is fun. Even if you love the subject matter, it’s always a competition for the highest grade, the most prestigious extracurricular academic positions, the most speaking time, the best internships or research appointments... and because this field attracts a certain, uh, personality type, odds are good that you’re gonna hate a solid third of the people you’re competing against (not to mention the terrible people you have to impress...).
Now, there’s a carrot at the end of the stick, and some people do eventually get it. People in my industry decide to go into it because they have a pretty romanticized notion of what the day-to-day is like, or because they have a super rosy outlook on how much money you can make doing it, and neither of those perceptions are FALSE, exactly. For a small percent of people, they’ll make absolutely obscene piles of money... right up until they burn out from the endless hours and abusive treatment, quit their job, move somewhere far away, and consider becoming an homesteader but instead drink themselves to death.
The romantic version of the job actually exists too, believe it or not, and you can really truly do the romantic version! ... for roughly 38k a year - before loan payments - and essentially your tradeoff is that you never pay off your loans or buy a home or feel in any way financially secure and then you meet up with the rich burnout on his failing mung bean farm and you drink yourself to death with that guy.
But for most of us, how it shakes out is you make okay money, which is actually on the very low end of “okay money” after your loans, you have less free time than most people, your day-to-day ends up being pretty repetitive and boring while somehow also stressful, you drink more than you should, complain more than you should, sleep less than you should, and deal with the various types of people who you hated while you were in school who are now your bosses and coworkers, and everything just kinda goes like that right up until you get the hell out at age 65, look back at your life, and think “...the fuck happened there?”
That was almost my trajectory when I got my first proper job in this industry. Almost: I had the incredibly abusive boss, remarkably shitty pay, wild amount of stress... but against all odds, I stumbled into doing the one kind of work that wasn’t a repetitive grind? Normally, in order to do the kind of work I started out on, you need to do really boring stuff for years while you fight like hell to get any opportunity that brings you closer to the difficult, interesting, fun stuff. In retrospect, I got to start out doing the Fun Stuff because my boss did the Fun Stuff and needed help with it, but nobody with Fun Stuff experience in my field would ever work for that guy because he was so infamously awful, so he’d burn through someone fresh out of school every few years until he fired them or they quit. I didn’t know that at the time, I just knew that even though the environment was so bad and so poorly compensated that I regularly fantasized about quitting the industry, the work itself? That part actually ruled.
I stuck it out for two years, and then I hit my absolute limit one day. During the time I’d been there, I’d already seen a guy my age get hired, torn to bits, and then fired for a fuck up that was not his fault in the least (right after he signed a mortgage, and with a baby on the way!!!) I’d seen the only woman in a leadership role quit and take a new position because she simply couldn’t stand the abuse from my boss anymore. I’d had eight different people come to me in tears because they just couldn’t take it anymore. And one day, after possibly the hundredth time I’d observed my boss take credit for my work only to call me into a meeting an hour later to inform me that the thing he’d just stolen credit for was actually terrible (dude felt THREATENED by competent women)... I was just done. And by sheer dumb luck, I made the best decision I’ve ever made in my entire life: I texted the woman who had quit the word “Margaritas?????”
Three hours/margs later, I ducked my coworkers who had come out with us, cornered my former colleague in the bathroom, and said “I need to get the fuck out of this company. Does your company need a Me?” Two days later, I had an interview lined up, and on the night of that interview, one of the people who had planned on interviewing me had a conflict, so the owner of the company looked to see who was still in the office, and grabbed the first guy he could find to fill an interview seat. The seat filler in question went in knowing nothing about me, had absolutely no context for this interview, and had never hired anyone to work for him before because he did the Fun Stuff, and he had never encountered someone at an earlyish career stage who could also do the Fun Stuff. Still, one of the seats needed filling, and that, dear readers, is How I Met My Boss.
It was the single best interview performance that I have ever given. I was flawless. Boss told me several months after the fact that I answered one question so well that the owner started kicking him under the table. Interviews at this place normally take 3-5 rounds before the offer goes out. I got my job offer on the way home from the interview that night. And since then? Boss and I have accomplished things that were considered impossible. We’ve quadrupled our team’s business. Boss sets my salary so I’m finally getting paid. The actual work still rules, with the added bonus of getting credit for what I do. I am enjoying every single moment of this, the culture of abuse has been replaced with like... friendship? Friendly pranks? Genuine collaboration? And as a result, we’re kicking so much ass that we’re growing the team years sooner than we thought would be possible. We have a new graduate joining us soon, and with god as my witness, that new grad is never going to know how shitty this industry can be.
So, yes. TL;DR, for me, the luckiest asshole in the entire industry, dropping 6 figures of debt and years of stress and competition on this particular degree that granted me admission into this nightmare industry was worth it. With that said, even though I’ll personally do everything I can to ensure that the people who work for me feel the exact same way... I would certainly not recommend it for everyone.
92 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
S1E8 - “To Tell or Not to Tell”
Original air date: November 14, 1961
Episode recap
The Petries are hosting a dinner party. Buddy and Sally do a sing-songy comedy routine while Rob plays the piano. Rob gets up and does a physical comedy routine. Laura gets up and does (what I assume is) some sort of ‘60s-style dancing. Cut to the end of the party, all the guests leave, Rob is tired, Laura goes on and on about what I wonderful time she had dancing.
Next day at the office Rob talks about how much fun Laura had dancing for the dinner party audience. Buddy is worried. Apparently non-homemaking interests from the wife should be worrying to the husband. Mel comes in and asks Rob if Laura can fill in as a dancer on the show this week. Buddy gets more worried. He thinks being married to a career woman is bad. Rob calls Laura to see if she’s interested assuming she won’t be. She’s interested.
Back at home Rob and Richtie are having dinner together because Laura is still rehearsing at the show. He fails at making a TV dinner. They eat bananas instead. Later that night Laura comes home tired. Rob has questions about how to operate the washing machine. Roles have become reversed. Rob is not happy but keeps it to himself.
Next day at the office the snappy service guy is dropping off lunch for Rob, Buddy and Sally. Laura comes in on a break looking hot in her leotard. The lunch delivery guy gawks over her.
After Laura’s successful week as a fill-in, Mel tells Rob he wants to offer her a permanent contract as a dancer on the show. Rob is worried but delivers the news to Laura at home that night. Laura is happy. She had a fun week proving to herself she could do it. But her body can’t keep up. She wants to be a homemaker not a career woman. Rob is relieved.
Everything is about me
Ostensibly, we can make it on my salary alone. But then she went back to work part-time, and the budget balanced a little more easily. We were able to move into this bigger house. There was a little money for some fun.
But she wasn’t happy working, and we figured she didn’t need to work, so she quit.
And the budget got tighter. We can make it. But there’s not a lot of room for fun. Or all those finishing aesthetic touches on our new house.
Her going back to work part-time bought me some peace if I’m being honest.
In the back of my mind I figured as the kids got older, she’d be able to work more, and that be our money boost. I didn’t need to obsess over getting promoted to make an income leap. That leap would be solved for organically by her eventually working full time.
And I still sort of feel that way. But her quitting is a temporary blip. Like I said, she wasn’t happy. She was feeling stressed and not operating in a position of strength to be the best mom she could be. She wants to focus on her health and happiness and kids’ health and happiness.
She wanted to figure out what the heck she wants to do with the rest of her life. She wants to take an art class and find the right exercise program and start a garden and do whatever else projects.
Problem is all that figuring out costs money and there isn’t a whole lot of it to spare in the current tight budget. And my attitude is probably putting pressure on her that some sort of clock is counting down until she figures something out and gets back to work. I keep saying “this year” or “these two years” like there’s a cliff at the end.
And she really doesn’t love doing some of the things she would need to do to truly make this work. We backed off some expenses, like housecleaner and dog groomer only once per month. But haven’t gone truly all in.
To truly make this work, we would need no housecleaning, no dog grooming, no pool cleaner, no yard guy. Her do all that stuff, work it into a schedule. Do whatever the 2021 version of clip coupons is, and really lock down our grocery budget. Essentially do all the homemaking things.
Our kids’ soccer training schedules are brutal Monday through Thursday evening and we still haven’t figured out how to do dinner those nights in a healthy and cost effective way with our sanity in check. That would take effort that she doesn’t want to put forth.
So it’s been four months, and she is not any closer to figuring out what she wants to do, she is not any healthier or happier. The trade-off was supposed to be less money for more time and happiness. But I’m not sure we are getting what we paid for with the forgone part-time dollars she was bringing in.
I am not sure where that leaves her or us.
Episode observations
Life before cell phones
No major changes to the plot except I reckon many of these Rob/Laura conversations--both the routine and the difficult--happen via text not phone.
Clothes and fashion
Rob’s cardigan and polo shirt and slacks house wear, he looked like Mr. Rogers.
Richtie’s robe and button up pajamas, he looked like Hugh Hefner. 
Laura’s leotard, she looked hot.
Vocabulary lesson
Someone, I think it may have been buddy, said something along the lines of, “give him a rap, right in the mouth.” I assume raps means punch/hit/strike. I feel like I’ve heard this usage before but can’t think of where.
OK, wow, just Googled it, and this usage is the first definition in both noun and verb form, while rap as in the music is the second definition.
Best joke/funniest moment
Clearly, the funniest moment of the show was Buddy’s. He was funny throughout. But one moment in particular stood out. He’s talking to Rob about how to get Laura give up on a career in dance and says to take her on a skiing trip. Rob replies that Laura can’t ski, she’ll break her leg. Buddy gets this evil look in his eyes and says, “yeah” with a dramatic pause. The “yeah” was good enough, but he tags on, “you catch on fast.” They call back to this at the end of the episode when Laura mentions maybe she could dance on the show one week per year then Rob asks if she’d like to go skiing.
But I have to give honorable mention to a not as funny but just so well written joke. Rob is about to call Laura about her career prospects. Buddy says, don’t do anything rash. Sally says, leave him alone, it’s his rash.
(Dishonorable mention to Sally’s jokes about needing a husband. They are getting old and I would like them to stop.)
Assorted thoughts on life in the 1960s
Laura’s dancing at the beginning of the episode was odd looking to me. I guess it’s just dated. I kept waiting for it to be a comedy setup. That she’d get injured or something. Not that it’d be interpreted as good.
People watched sing-songy variety shows on TV backed then apparently. Up until this episode--or maybe the previous episode--I hadn’t put much thought into what the fictional Alan Brady Show was supposed to be. But I guess it’s a sing-songy variety show. And I guess people liked that sort of thing. I haven’t done a “checking in with my mom” section on this blog recently and probably should have on this topic. Maybe in upcoming posts I will get her take on ‘60s variety shows
The 1960s attitude on traditional gender roles were on heavy display. Buddy was laying it on thick about disdain for working women, e.g. “losing a wife, gaining a roommate.” (Buddy has plenty more borderline sexist analogies about working women sprinkled throughout.) Mel checks with Rob first about career decisions concerning Laura. Rob can’t cook, even a frozen dinner. Eventually Laura conforms to this too, admitting she’d wants Rob to take her away from all this, doesn’t want to be a dancer, she wants to be a wife.
Final thoughts
Sometimes I question if were are splitting the baby to some extent when it comes to working. At least at this point now that our youngest is less than a couple years to middle school. That is should we go full traditional model or full dual income model not this mixed economy model we’ve got going on? And sometimes I think maybe we’re doing exactly the work-life integration model that 2021 calls for.
6 notes · View notes
hobiwonder · 5 years
Text
crazy rich asians | 01
Genre: Chaebol!BTS. maid!reader. Smut, fluff. mild angst.
Pairing: Jin x reader, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x reader, Yoongi x reader. Possible future pairings.
Warnings for this chapter: language. brief mention of oral sex. Kissing !!!
Words: 9k+
Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t. Now some of the country’s most powerful - and rich - men would do anything to keep you quiet.
a/n: i turned it into a fic as requested!!! ngl…. am worried how people will receive this lol. This will be a short series. no major angst so don’t worry. i hope you guys like it bc i really enjoyed writing it. please let me know what you think n feed my motivation bubble so i dont take months to finish this ajdubejekbfjk.
Tumblr media
This was odd. Jin’s eyebrows furrowed – which he was strongly against since premature wrinkles were one of his biggest fears. He was closer to thirty than twenty so his concerns were valid. Jimin almost never visited his childhood home ever since their father got engaged to the secretary – another cliché – a few months ago.
“Hm… what changed your mind little brother.” Jin mutters as he passes the sleek Mercedes that belongs to his younger brother. Nevertheless, he can’t help the sly smirk that fights his muscles and spreads across his porcelain skin. He couldn’t wait to rub it in Jimin’s face that he finally returned when his bank account dried out. Most likely.
The plethora of house staff greeting Jin as he walked along the indoor fountain, trying to acknowledge most of them. They had too many servants and it wasn’t Jin’s fault that he didn’t care about most of them. But it was hard when they all looked so sheepish like they had some wretched secret they were supposed to hide but failed.
“Good Afternoon Sir, what brings you here?” Jin’s long legs are no match for the shorter man who usually took care of everything in the manor so he’s a little breathless as he Jogs besides him.
“To my own house? Where I lived for 20 years?” This really was becoming a strange day.
“A-Ah no sir. I meant no disrespect just wanted to be prepared to accommodate you accordingly.”
“Okay,” This was officially starting to annoy him and the furrow in his forehead was getting deeper. He would not get wrinkles because his servant annoyed him in to it. “Alfred… Anders… Andrew. Whatever your name is, I don’t need to announce my arrival at my own home. On second thought, maybe I should.”
The idea is very appealing as he swirls the thought in his head and it’s enough to make him forget the butler’s calls as he enters Jimin’s private wing. He isn’t surprised though when he already hears faint moans but not of a woman for once. It’s undoubtedly Jimin which is again – peculiar because getting off himself wasn’t something Jimin liked to do if he had ‘several other women ready to do it for me’ if quoting him directly. He guesses there is only one way to find out as he approaches the living area, looking at the back of his head resting on the enormous lounge sofa.
“Well hello there brother!” His tongue doesn’t form anymore words when he can finally see Jimin in his line of view – and his father’s fiancé frantically buttoning her blouse to retain some of her dignity. Jimin on the other hand is taking his sweet time tucking himself inside his slacks – shaking his head in disbelief as if Jin’s caused him immense grief.
“…and Amber.” Jin is no stranger to walking in on his brother – or friends really – indulging in all sorts of debauchery but this – this was quite interesting and to put it simply, messy. “Well, well, well. Did you come back to sleep with our step-mother or actually missed your family, god forbid?”
Jimin is no more rattled than a sloth as he runs his hands through his silky golden hair and smacks Amber’s ass as she’s still fiddling with her blouse. “A bit of both.”
“I-I didn’t know you’d b-be back so quick Jin-ah.” Her pearly white teeth that his father paid way too much for are almost blinding him. Yeah he’s not that bored today to play along with her games so he opts for just a dry smile. This was no surprise to him. Especially when the first person she had a fling with in this household was, well, Jin himself.
“Clearly. Thankfully you know father won’t be home until late. Run along now. I’ve got to catch up with your son.” Okay, that one’s on him. He liked to rub it in her face.
“Step-son.” She’s positively seething and Jin couldn’t be more delighted.
“Ooh. Naughty aren’t you? I knew you were always in a bit of incest.”
Jimin’s snort and Amber’s scoff come at the same time but at least it makes her on her way, heels clicking as she’s strutting away.
“I gave the staff one job and they couldn’t even do that.” Jimin walks towards the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a whiskey at 12 in the afternoon – bringing a smile to his face. He did miss his little brother.
“To keep me from finding Amber swallowing your unborn children?
“Thank fuck for that. I’m not ever going to be ready for kids.”
“Understandable. Considering you are one.” Jin’s shit eating grin makes Jimin pour another glass which he drowns in a second too.
“Please tell me how many ‘kids’ you know who’re worth half a billion dollars?”
Not a trick question.
“Almost all of our friends? Plus, we’re brothers you maggot. And I’m worth more.” His stance widens as he splays his feet out in some sort of power pose.
“What now? You want us sword fighting?” Jimin’s glancing to his crotch before he continues, “I’ll win because somebody didn’t let me finish.” Yes, very evident from the hard tent in his slacks.
“No need to resort to unsanitary methods. Talking will do.” He’s waving his hand in dismissal, watching Jimin taking a seat opposite – absolutely no attempts at hiding his boner. “So, what brings you back? Thought you were up in the Bahamas getting tanned and toned and weren’t due back for a few more weeks?”
“Correct but that was until father announced his surprise engagement.” Jimin is on his third glass of whiskey but looks more sober than a priest.
“Is there anything he does these days that isn’t a surprise? I found out I was moving houses from the real estate agent for god’s sake.” That makes Jimin snort out a laugh.
“Christ. He’s a bastard isn’t he?” Jimin had been in boarding school still when Jin had been effectively moved out of the manor in to a skyscraper penthouse because his father had wanted to ‘relax by himself and no kids’. As if he raised them on his own.
“Yup. Turns out he just needed the house to be snitch-free to fuck his secretary/future step-mom.” Plus he was still going through the divorce with their mother.
“I can understand why.” Jimin’s closing his eyes, heading leaning back again as a sultry smile spreads on his youthful face as if he’s reminiscing an irreplaceable memory. “Amber can make you forget you own name.”
“Right?” Jin is letting his inner, less sophisticated horny teenager alter ego slip through as he agrees with his brother about what a good lay their step-mom is.
“You already tap that?” When Jin just winks in Jimin’s direction, he’s clapping and chuckling like he can’t believe it.
“You’re no better than me brother and please, don’t take that as an insult. No offense at all.”
“None taken.” For a moment Jimin truly feels slightly happier. Looking at his brother and remembering sitting across from him while they talked about everything when they were younger and thought they had a chance at becoming people different than their father or their whole family. He had everything. They both had everything. There wasn’t one thing that either of them lacked or desired. So needless to say, their lives were a little grey and lacked excitement. Money though. That never failed to give him a hard-on.
Seeing his brother also made him happy, sure.
“Remember when we were playing in father’s office that one time he left it unlocked?” Jimin continues when Jin nods slowly, “And remember when we were rummaging through the drawers we found a safe and tried to break into it before Anderson caught us?”
“I knew it! He looked like an Anders.” When Jimin just blankly stares at him he mutters an apology and tells him to continue.
“Anyway. I went back and broke in to the safe.”
“Of course you did,” Jin is rolling his eyes but not finding it surprising that his little brother, ever the inquisitive little cat, went back to do exactly what he was told to notdo.
“No, listen,” Jimin’s eyes are increasingly growing frantic as he shifts forward, abandoning his glass of whiskey and Jin knew that this was something juicy. “There were papers inside the safe. Granddad’s will. I made copies.”
“Wait, you told me there was a bunch of cocaine and ecstasy. Nothing else.” Jimin shrugs once again to ask what was his point.
“And?”
“And you stole the papers but not the drugs? My teenage self hates you so much right now.”
“And that poor bastard should be thankful I looked in to the papers otherwise you would become penniless. Very soon.”
What was Jimin trying to say. “Get to the point Jimin. What about Grandpa’s will?”
Jin’s palms were becoming sweaty and a little tick in his left leg had already started and was about to become a full blown restless leg syndrome like a pathetic little office worker worried about losing a promotion.
“Well,” Jimin is moving across the room to sit beside his older brother, turning his lithe body to the side facing him as he starts to explain. “Grandad’s will stated that we were to receive 10% of our inheritance every year starting at the age of 35. Unless father remarried.”
The mention of money always sped up Jin’s heartbeat. It raced in his chest like he was about to win the lottery. Maybe he was?
“What then… ?” Jimin’s Cheshire grin slowly lighting up his whole face was never a good sign. Until now apparently.
“If he remarried before we turned 35, we are to receive our inheritance. In full. At once.”
Jin really felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Because that was a lot of money.
“That’s-”
“$10 billion.” There was a slight pause as Jimin eagerly awaited his brother’s reaction.
“I think I just had a powergasm.” Jimin is chuckling as he slaps Jin’s back, shaking his older brother out of joy as they both start to gradually laugh louder. Is this how supervillains felt? Jin’s never laughed like this before and it’s no surprise that it’s money that’s doing the trick. Poor people wouldn’t understand.
That’s when another realisation occurs. “That’s why he kicked me out of the house. Because he was going to get engaged and couldn’t risk us retaliating and finding this bit of information out.”
“Precisely big brother.”
“Fuck…. We’re going to be rich as fuck.”
“If he doesn’t figure out a way to get that clause crossed from the will.” Jimin seems a bit nervous for the first time since he had started talking.
But Jin wasn’t. Not when he had people on his side who would love to make some money as well. Well, more money. He wasn’t friends with poor people.
“Don’t worry about it. You still in contact with Taehyung?” Jimin looks at his older brother with a ‘duh’ face.
“You still have a dick?” Jin’s just rolling his eyes as he calls the first number under ‘Y’.
“What?”
“Hello to you too, Min. Say, you want to become rich?” Yoongi on the other end is snorting before he speaks with his signature lazy drawl.
“I’m already rich, you bitch. But I’m having a down day anyway. Tell me more.”
Jin is smirking towards his brother, his body is buzzing and this is the most excited he;s been a while.
“Meet at my place with the other boys. At 2. Lunch is on me.”
“Yes because I desperately need someone to shout me lunch.” He’s had enough of Yoongi’s sarcasm so he just hangs up.
“Well Jimin, lets go get our billions.” Jimin hands his older brother a glass of whiskey before they make a toast.
“Amen.” Jin furrows his brows again.
“You believe in god now?”
“After seeing Amber’s tits? Yeah.”
“Oh hello there. Eavesdropping were we?” A man is leaning against the wall behind you, hands in his pockets while he looks at you head to toe, two small dimples appearing when he grins rather…. cutely you might add.
“U-Uh, n-no?” The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago.
“Be careful next time little maid.” You hold in the scoff until he disappears inside the room.
“You guys have better discussed Amber’s ass and nothing else of importance because of the audience outside. The pretty little thing Anders hired.
“How does everyone know his name and not me? You don’t even live here Hoseok.” Jin’s scoffing while Jimin worries about the real problem.
“Fucking hell. The staff in this house is more loyal to our father than their own families. What do we do?”
“Leave that to me. Girls never kiss and tell when they’re with me.” with a wick, Hoseok is settling on the couch as well. “Just transfer me $50 million when you both get the money.”
Oh boy. Being rich was hard.
You were screwed. Or at least it looked like you were. Even though you'd been hired months ago - it was not usual to see the 'house Masters' (that's what Anders had called them anyway so you stuck with it). In fact you could count on one hand how many times you'd seen Kim Seokjin around the mansion. though he didn't live here so that wasn't too surprising at first but you did think that he would at least regularly visit his father. the numerous articles written about this family portrayed them as loyal as you can be to your own blood. What behind closed doors however, was a different story.
The eldest son rarely visited his father and his father, your employer, was even more of a rare sight around the Manor. In the three months you'd worked here, you'd seen Mr. Kim twice. And one of those times was when the annual Christmas dinner was hosted. But even for that, the youngest son, Jimin had not been present. So seeing the new face around the Manor today had confused you very much. But the way his perfectly sculpted features, luscious and shiny - oh god was it shiny - hair had told you that he belonged to this family. How close he was? You weren't sure. Until now.
Now that you'd been caught listening in to the scheming going behind the closed doors. He was the youngest son that was asked about a thousand times at the Christmas dinner and each time both, the father and the son, evaded the questions like experts. He was as handsome as the rest of the family so it didn't surprise you much when you found out his identity. Especially when the future house mistress had been lead in to the room by him, all smiles and charming demeanour. You'd naively thought that the step-mother and son - though she looked too good for her age as all rich people did - had quite a close relationship even though this was the first time you were seeing Master Jimin home. Until the moaning had sounded obnoxiously out in the hallway. Anders had tried his best to get to be anywhere other than cleaning the massive hallway that all the rooms connected to but in the end, you'd gravitated towards the noises. Knowing it was wrong for you to listen but not being able to help yourself. The young master's voice was so melodic, so serene, you were almost forgetting that the said noises weren't as innocent as the emotions they were evoking in you.
Your heart had sped up and your fingers had tugged down your uniform subconsciously at the erotic noises emitting from the room. Imagining yourself to be on the giving end of the scenario playing out in the room. But your fantasies had been broken when you'd hear Anders and Mr. Kim's older son's booming voice coming down the hallway. Quickly ducking back in to one of the rooms you were supposed to start dusting in, you'd only caught glimpse of the incredibly handsome Kim Seokjin reprimanding Anders for making him feel unwelcome in his own home. Though you felt for the poor old man. He was nice and looked after you more than you had expected. And the amount of work he had to see through was incredible and you were amazed at how he never failed to complete each and every one of his tasks. Except keeping Mr. Kim out of the young master's room that is. You'd heard the cheeky tone in Jimin's voice when he'd asked Anders to make sure that no one disturbs them. You'd thought stupidly that maybe they wanted to spend quality time with each other since Jimin was back home after a long time. And they spent quality time alright. The noises were a testament to that.
You were suddenly feeling the nervous butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of Jimin being found out by his older brother. And with his step mother no less. Like youwere the one doing something that scandalous. Craning your neck you'd tried to hear, maybe yelling? You'd assumed - wrongly, again - that the older master Kim would be horrified at finding out the debauchery going on inside the room but all you'd seen was a ruffled Amber - you think that's her name from the moans at least - and then joyous laughter which could only mean the brothers meeting. Rich people were bizarre. Did they not have any morals? Nothing settling uneasy in their conscience?
Not that you were any better because you were plainly eavesdropping and that was not how your mother raised you. Though she didn't raise you that much at all in all honesty. But she was quick to correct your mishaps or seemingly 'dishonest' activities. That was all she did really. Mostly your grandmother raised you until you were kicked out at the ripe age of 18 by your mother to 'find your own way' like her crack addicted self told you. She preached but never practiced her own self-righteous attitude more than when she needed to keep you under control. Though your visit down the memory lane is interrupted when your ears catch on to what the two men inside were talking about. The words 'cocaine' catch your attention - it was your mother's favourite at one point. Listening on further was just pure coincidence. But boy oh boy. What were you hearing? Were they going to possibly.... hurt someone for even more money? How much more could they want? They already had enough of it. You didn't realise the pout that had been on your face while you listened to the two brother calling a friend for some 'help'.
Not until someone was clearing their throat behind you, damn near making you knock your head against the wall you had been absentmindedly wiping for the hundredth time. Initially - for the millisecond of the reaction time you had available - you thought Anders would be the one to catch you and for some reason, you weren't as scared. Hence the sheepish smile on your face when you turn around to face whoever it was that had caught you so blatantly trying to listen to whatever was happening. Though your smile - as well as your heart - drops instantly when you see an unfamiliar face in front of you, yet again. And once again - the stranger is handsome, incredibly so. In fact, the toothy grin he's beaming your way is nearly blinding. His white teeth - definitely not natural, though you wouldn't be surprised if they were - smiling up at you as he leant against the wall besides you. How did you not hear him? His body was lithe and somehow you're not surprised that he snuck up on you so easily. Nonetheless, he did and you were in major trouble. He was good-looking enough for you to figure out that he probably belonged in the two master's circle.
“Oh hello there. Eavesdropping were we?” The man is leaning against the wall behind you, hands in his pockets while he looks at you head to toe, two small dimples appearing when he grins rather…. cutely you might add.
“U-Uh, n-no?” The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago.
"No! Uh I mean. N-No... that's what I mean." You're hoping the desperation in your eyes gives him a hint that you rather not get in to trouble.
“Be careful next time little maid.” His smirk doesn't dissolve. In fact, it seems to get wider. Most likely being able to tell how hard you're trying to make it seem like you were doing the right thing. Definitely not eavesdropping. The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago. Still watching you.
But alas, your mind malfunctions and the only thing you can think of is to get out of there. Too many good looking men you've seen to last you a decade. You're scurrying away back to the room you were originally supposed to be in and you can hear his chuckle even as you go further down the hallway to the room.
Slumping against the wall, your hand clutches just above where your heart should be. You were sofired. There was no way that whoever this was would not mention you lurking outside the room. Who was he anyway? Oh well, not that you would get to find out because you were stupidly caught eavesdropping. Eavesdropping! How cliché. It was impossible to focus on your work knowing that you will be in immense trouble. Pacing back and forth, rehearsing excuses and explanations to give Anders on why you were outside of your given area. And caught by a guest no less. From what you'd gathered about the older Kim son - he couldn't care less about your presence in the house.
One time he'd come in the living area, stayed for over two hours without acknowledging that you were even in the room. In fact, when Anders had called out to you to return to lend a hand at the kitchen is when he'd looked up at you as if it was the first time he was hearing a name that wasn't his own. Even then, he'd only looked at you for a mere few seconds before going back to the book he'd been reading.
But the newcomer - or old you guess, you'd only just started working after all - you weren't sure how he'd react to finding out your roaming outside his room. Surely, he would be just as aloof and uncaring of a mere maid as you, right? Maybe not if the handsome stranger told him about how well you'd been listening to the conversation inside. Oh lord. This was the only job that paid enough for you to send home and also keep a roof over your head. What were you going to do? You minded your own business but the one day curiosity got you was when you've been caught. Just your luck. Your mother was right. Your curiosity will be your end. And seems like it will be now as well judging from the sound of the doors opening from the young master's suite and several pairs of footsteps coming towards the room you were in.
Your limbs moving like lightning, making sure each and every one of the vases was picked up and dusted through thoroughly - it's obvious you're trying to look as occupied as possible. A few seconds later, the footsteps stop right outside the room you're in and your heart might as well have stopped pumping blood through your body as well with the way your temperature drops from the impending doom. Had they told on you already? Was Anders also outside the door? If he was alone you could've tried to weasel your way out of such a mishap but you doubt the you could even let out a squeak between the three intimidating men.
To your demise, when the men enter the room - Anders is nowhere to be found. The two brothers and the third stranger who had caught you stand in the doorway looking all too.... nerve-racking (for you). Instantly you know that theyknow how nervous you are. Nervous of losing the only source of income that was enough to sustain you. The older of the two brothers is looking at you up and down, slowly and calculating. Like it's the first time he's seeing you. Someone like you at least. Some who wasn't at the same calibre as he. Even his gaze makes you feel poor. Inferior.
Thought it doesn't seem to be intentional. He was inspecting you like you were an enigma when in reality he was the one clad in all sorts of bling you were sure you would only see in the movies. Being so focused and aware of Seokjin, you'd almost forgotten about the two other men in the room. While the stranger leant against the wall like he had earlier, Jimin had taken a seat on the large sofa a few meters away from you. Crossing his, muscular you might add, thighs. Getting comfortable with one of his arms splayed on the back of the cushions while the other rested on the hand rest - completely at ease. The exact opposite of you. While Seokjin was all curious eyes, Jimin seemed to be looking at you with sly eyes, blatantly checking out your frumpy uniform and the duster in your hand. The smirk you'd seen in the morning still ever present on his face.
Never having been in a room with an attractive man such as Seokjin himself - let alone three - you're about ready to faint.
"Are you boys going to start or shall I?" The stranger spoke first. Voice breezy like they were about to have a conversation about the weather with you.
your eyes must still be opened wide when Jimin speaks up. "Relax Hoseok hyung, let the girl breathe first. You okay sweetheart?"
His saccharine sweet tone instantly soothes some of the nerves and the smile he sends your way, the wrinkles appearing around his round eyes making you feel all warm inside.
"U-Uh, wh-what? Oh I-I'm-" The elder cuts you off however. Seemingly not being able for you to finish up your stuttering. Hm, he definitely wasn't as nice as the other two.
"Anyway, what were you doing outside master Jimin's wing, little one?" The nickname makes your face redder than it was, feeling your blood rush in your head suddenly. Never did you think that the sons of your employer would actually refer to themselves as 'master'. You definitely guessed wrong. At least Jimin hadn't. You reallydid like him better even if he was about to fire you.
And guess what you do next? Sabotage yourself even further of course. Your mouth has no filter when you're nervous because the words come stumbling out before you can stop yourself.
"I heard your plan to get money from your dad!" The words almost sound like a really long, poorly pronounced word. A breath leaves you in a rush like you' been holding it in for a while after your word vomit. "Or w-well I guess.... m-more money."
The last words are whispered almost to yourself but the way the men are now widening their eyes at you - you know they heard every word.
"Excuse me?" The handsome stranger - Hoseok, now you know - fills the defining silence with the most endearing laughter you've heard in your small life-time just as Seokjin's incredulous tone has you shrinking back in to yourself.
"And what do you suppose... you will do with that information, hm?" Jimin slowly gets up from his place on the couch, straitening his dress pants. The Cheshire smirk still upturning the corners of his mouth as he stalks towards you. Slow, with purpose, to undoubtedly make you more nervous than you were feeling surrounded by him and his older brother standing adjacent to you.
"I-I... I won't say a-anything." You're taking a deep breath before you say the next words - gathering all the courage that you were able to. About to do something you never dreamed you would have to. "If you don't f-fire me."
Even though you are outright blackmailing these chaebol brothers and with a witness present, you can't help the frown creasing your forehead at your unethical actions. Who were you blackmailing people that can probably have your existence removed from this earth?! They certainly had enough money for it.
"And if we do fire you, little one?" The screech that leaves your throat at the unexpected closeness of Seokjin as he leans his head down. Close enough that you instinctively take a step back as his deep coal orbs bore in to yours - challenging you to respond.
"I-I-I um," you gulp, looking anywhere but his intense eyes that won't let you breathe. "I'll tell y-your father!"
Your reply is defiant but nowhere near as threatening as you'd wanted it to be. In all honesty, you just want to keep your job. Seokjin's eyebrows shoot upwards at your feigned bravery and the bold claim. How would you even get in touch with his father?
You'd only ever seen him from a distance in person. Here's to hoping they don't call you on your bluff.
"Oh will you now?" His head tilts almost menacingly, still staring right down at you. The arms that come around to wrap themselves around you are purely in instinct. You were out of your depth here and desperately hoping they'd forget about this and ignore you. You were a mere house staff and a very lowly one at that.
Surely they won't fall to your words. This was stupid and you were doomed. You're about ready to apologies when Jimin speaks making your head snap towards him.
"Calm down, brother." His smile is then directed at you. "What's your name darling?"
"Y-Y/n." Your brain was on auto-pilot and you just wanted to be out of trouble.
"Well, y/n, don't worry." Jimin is close enough that you can smell his cologne. It smells heavenly and you almost want to sniff as much as you can to take in the smell while it's there. "Our mouths are barred," head leaning down just as Seokjin had been earlier, "as long as yours is."
Jimin was smooth. Slick and smooth with his hypnotic eyes, euphonious voice and tranquil words making sure you were listening. Comprehending every word. You're nodding along with him - actions a little quivery. Until another thought pops up in your head.
"W-What if h-he dobs me in?" Your head gestures towards Hoseok's animatedly in your nervous state. Completely missing the chuckle that sounds from the accused.
Jimin is biting his bottom lip, holding himself back from flat out laughing in your face probably.
"Don't you worry, sweetheart. We're all bounded in this contract. Deal?" He's nodding at you, prompting you to nod your understanding as well.
Seokjin is still scrutinising you, stepping back now that Jimin had taken over. You glance in Jimin's eyes before nodding once again - much more firmly.
"Excellent. Shall we seal this deal?" He looks around to Hoseok who just gestures with his hand 'as you wish' with a grin similar to Jimin's. It's like they're all communicating in some symbolic language that goes above your head. Seokjin doesn't respond but now stand besides Jimin.
When Jimin is looking back at you, a singular eyebrow raised - you nod as well. "O-Okay."
Hastily, you're wiping your clammy hands on your uniform to bring it forward and shake his hand. That's what he meant right?
The golden haired boy only smirks at your outstretched hand as his gaze falls back to your reluctant face. Your nerves are settling slightly when his arm is making its way to you as well - thanking god above that this was going to be over soon.
Until the said hands bypasses yours waiting to shake his and settles on the wall beside your head and your own eyes watch its descent. Before you can ask any questions or even make sense of what's happening, your head is tilted backwards slightly when a pair of voluptuous lips take their residence on your own. The noise of surprise leaving the back of your throat is the only other heard in the otherwise quiet room. Your hand instinctively going to grab at the arms caging you between them.
Jimin's kiss is all consuming, his lips gently sucking yours in the most unwavering embrace. Embrace is a bit of a stretch. While one hand had squashed any hopes of your escape, the other made it impossible as it held on to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his tongue swiped over your lips. A whimper leaves your mouth when he does so and only a few seconds later, Jimin is pulling away with a wet 'pop' of his lips. His petal soft ones are moist and gently coloured with a natural deep pink.
You're barely breathing, eyes half closed when Hoseok has stepped besides the smirking Jimin.
"What a-"
"We're sealing it with a kiss, Darling. All of us." You felt like you were going to faint. Kissing one of them was this taxing - in the best way with the way the butterflies were going haywire in your tummy - how were you going to kiss all threeof them?
"I- Okay." You sound defeated and overwhelmed but ready to have someone fill the void that was left when Jimin stopped kissing you.
Hoseok has taken Jimin's place, swiftly pushing his head closer to yours, nuzzling your nose with his - an oddly intimate act - before his soft lips push against yours. Your arms have found their way to the top of his chest purely on instinct once more. Needing to hold on to something so your weak knees don't give out beneath you.
His kiss is more delicate than Jimin's. Much softer. Until he pulls back for the first time of course. Only to crash his mouth on to yours with a ferocity you were not expecting. Your hands are itching to tug on the silky strands of his hair but you resist. You're not sure if you should even kiss him back. What were you doing? Kissing strangers. It was a little too late to think about that anyway because there was no plausible reason you could think of at the moment to stopkissing him back.
"That's enough hyung. Let her breathe." Jimin's impish chuckle sounds from the room somewhere just as Hoseok's touch gets dangerously close to the curvature of your breasts.
He breaks away with a dramatic 'chu' as his lips part from yours. Sparkling from how shiny they were from your combined saliva. Jimin was right. You really needed to breathe before you fainted - especially with the way your knees wobbled, trying your best to rest against the wall behind you. Hoseok's eyes are still staring raptly at you, the knowing smirk still ever present. It briefly slips down to your heaving chest and even though the uniform was virtually shapeless - you felt almost naked under his scrutiny.
Evidently, your cheeks are reddening even further as he steps back, your heart skipping several beats and blood pressure spiking shortly after when you realise who was next - Kim Seokjin. Somehow, you'd expected the state of subtle arousal to dissipate to a certain degree. The substantial dislike you'd acquired for his tone whenever addressing you had been pushed to the side as he took his place in front of you. Your eyes lock, heart stopingly striking features making you breathless once again.
He, undoubtedly, intimidated you the most out of all of them. Eyes flicking back and forth between the other men and Seokjin, you're trying not to get nervous with each second that passes. Hoseok had not waited long enough to let the panic rise from deep down and you were thankful for that. Because nervous you was not appropriate. Not at all. But then again nothing about kissing your boss's sons and their friends was appropriate. You were way past that point. He places his hand besides your head, just as the other two had done. Bracing your hands behind you on the wall, you're ready for him to steal your breath away.
What you weren't expecting was the gentle press of lips against your cheek. A surprised gasp leaves past your - very lonely - lips. Trying to hide the disappointment that's trying to claw its way on to your face, you stay very still like moving even just an inch might be catastrophic for you. Just as soon as he kissed you, he's pulling away. You hadn't noticed his other hand that had been just shy of holding your waist - hovering besides it like he was uncertain. Which was a crazy thought to you.
"Nowit's a deal." Jimin speaks up from behind Seokjin. Seokjin's broad shoulders had almost completely blocked your view of the other two men in the room that you had momentarily forgotten about them.
Seokjin moves away just as fast as his little peck on your cheek. Which makes you wonder if you were that indigent to him, this unappealing, that he'd resorted to a little peck on your cheek. This was ridiculous on its own because your perception of reality was so skewed considering the events that had transpired in the past hour. A few hours ago you were getting ready to do your weekly thorough cleaning of the vast left wing - now you were internally pouting at not receiving a kiss from one of the three most handsome men you'd ever laid your eyes on. Not to forget - two out of three were your employers.
The realisation is enough to jolt you out of your thoughts and speculations, looking around at all of them. "I should go."
Your words are shaky, rightfully so with how much physical intimacy you received in the last hour than the last month. Neither of the three men stop surveying your tremulous tip-toeing towards the door, trying to get out of the stifling room that was feeling too small with all the bodies occupying it.
They don't stop you when you're fumbling with the golden doorknob, finally pulling open the door. Though why would this day get any easier for you, right? And what had you done in your previous life to deserve this.... predicament. Standing in front of you, was another man. That's right. Another one. Beautiful, incredibly so. He seems to be just as tall as Jimin, ivory skin with a healthy amount of flush.
"Well, hello... maid." His deep - puzzled voice sends shivers down your spine as you stare Bambi eyed at him. Why were all these men so, comically handsome? He looks just as puzzled as he sounds.
"Ah! Perfect timing Yoongi hyung." The loud, boisterous voice startles you once again, whipping around to face Hoseok while Jimin walks towards the newcomer.
"Is the another one of your role-play threesomes Jimin? Poor thing looks like she's going to cry. Unless you're a professional actress?"
The last question is directed at you as he looks into your eyes, his own lovely face frowning as he inspects your uniform. Before you can answer though, Seokjin is scoffing, taking a seat on the couch once again with the drink in his hand that he'd been pouring earlier.
"Please, I wouldn't be here if that were true. Come, have a seat. She won't cry." He waves his dismissal of you and once again - your face is heating. This time in irritation.
Yoongi just shrugs, eyes still watching you as he sits beside a lounging Seokjin who offers him a drink. "So, what's the little maid doing here?"
Jimin is smirking again as he looks towards his older brother. "Let me explain." he offers.
"Make my friend a drink, little one."
"Pardon?" Seokjin sighs, as if being greatly inconvenienced that he has to elaborate.
"Just because you got a few kisses from us doesn't relieve you of your duties, yes?" His narrowed eyes are condescending but you can't say anything. Because he was right. You were still a maid at their house despite the little stunt they pulled earlier (you were complicit).
"Y-Yes. Of course." Eyes downcast as you make your way to the liquor cabinet, taking out the bottle that Seokjin had previously to pour himself one.
"Wait, you guys kissed your maid?" Yoongi's unbelievable laugh makes the blood rush back in to your cheeks. They were discussing you like you weren't there and it was embarrassing to say the least. Though they definitely out-ranked you on the power spectrum so you doubt they really cared much about your input.
"It was a transaction, nothing much of it."
"Talk about yourself, mine was definitely more than that." Jimin is scoffing but you still hear the smirk in his voice. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
You know he's talking to you even if he doesn't know your name yet but you resist the urge to turn around, already too embarrassed at how easily you'd given in to their advances. Wiping your hands down on your uniform again to get rid of the sweat that's been accumulating, you carefully hold the heavy liquor glass. Hoping that it doesn't slip from your clammy hands otherwise you were in a lot more trouble than before.
Hands slightly shaking, you stop right before you reach the couch, bending forward to hand the newest face his glass of whiskey. You hadn't noticed before but all 4 of them had been watching you. Carefully examining your composure and the nervousness pouring off of your frame as you tried to keep your eyes on the glass. You make the mistake of glancing up at Yoongi and almost drop the glass like you'd been trying to avoid. Thankfully, he mercifully takes it from you - eyes still watching as he takes a sip.
"Sorry! Sorry..."
"That's okay little one. What's your name?"
"Wait yeah. we never asked her name." Hoseok muses from the opposite couch he's sitting on and Yoongi scoffs at them all again. But they did? Did they really forget my name already?
"Really now?" He's shaking his head mumbling 'egocentric fools' before his eyes turn back to you. "Go on."
Taking a deep breath. Wondering if you should give your real name or a fake one this time in case they try to have you fired when you're gone. You decide to be brave and tell them your name. Again.
"Y/n." No stuttering, thank god.
"How long have you been working here y/n? I would remember a pretty face like yours." Yoongi's tone is light, not flirty like his words suggested. He seemed like a person who just talked this way - complimenting people he deemed worthy of them.
"Three- Three and a half months now." Your voice gets quieter the longer your sentence goes on. The blush on your face is now permanent because of how intently all of them seem to be looking at you. you also need to fight the urge to shuffle your feet around like you were on trial for something bad you did and they were the judge and the jury. In a sense you guess that they were because you wouldn't be here otherwise.
"Hm. Somehow I'm seeing you for the first time today." You bite you tongue, wincing lightly at your own strength but you had to. Otherwise you would go on a tangent about how he really rarely looked at the staff in his own home. Seokjin just annoyed you! Biting on your lip - a nervous habit - you contemplate whether you should ask if you can go.
You were soclose before.
"Please, hyung. You would've if you stopped admiring yourself every chance you got." Jimin mocks his older brother.
"Not my fault I look like this." Seokjin is gesturing to himself like it's a great burden being that good looking. Then again you don't know. It could be.
"Settle down children." Yoongi rolls his eyes at the two brother bickering, checking his gold toned Rolex before speaking again, "so, what's this scheme I’ve been summoned for? Spit it out."
"That'll be all y/n." Jimin's charming smile is directed at you all of a sudden when Yoongi mentions the dreaded plan that you'd overheard. Nonetheless, the way your name slips off his tongue sends a small shiver down your spine, nodding at him before staggering towards the door.
"Don't forget our deal, little one." You can hear Hoseok snickering when Jimin calls out behind your retrieving figure.
Knees almost knocking into each other when you're outside the room, you let out the biggest breath that you were once again, unwarily holding. What had you gotten yourself in to?
Everything was coming crashing down onto your psyche. The gravity of the situation was settling on you and you could feel the hyperventilation lurking nearby. These were not just normal everyday people who happen to have more money than you. The Kim family was affluent and prominent. They didn't follow the normal dynamics of society like all the other wealthy and rich in this country. They made the rules that they wantedto follow. Remembering the incident from when you'd just started working here, you could feel your heart drop down to your toes.
It was your second week on the job and your timorous nature was taking a back seat slowly - getting a hang of your duties. Anders was kind and let you settle in and perhaps because you were just as old as his granddaughter he'd told you about. Minhyuk - another staff member that you'd seen around the Manor and quite honestly developed a small crush on - had been showing you the east wing and what your duties included. You didn't have much to do there as it was Mr Kim's quarters, including his study and office where he worked once in a while. Not everyone had access to that area of the house and you figured it was because of his work. maybe he was really particular about the way things were done. You just didn't think much of it.
"You will always be given your schedule of the type and duration of cleaning required the day before when it comes to Master Kim's rooms so please take note of that."
He smiles sweetly as he shows you around. The notepad in your hand, you're diligently taking notes because you did not want to risk leaving all of this new information to your forgetful nature. You swear you hear him mumble 'cute' when he's watching you but the sound of heels clicking on the marble floors distract you both. When you look up - your jaw is almost dropping to the floor. You's seen Mr Kim's partner a fair few times - on the news that is. In person she was even more... unreal. Tall, thin with equally bright and big bone structure. It didn't phase you when you learnt that she was indeed - a model.
"Good morning Am- Ms King!" Her pearly whites make a small appearance before she curls her lips in an almost sensual smile.
"Good morning Minhyuk. Who is this?" She doesn't spare you a glance when she questions, fingers lingering on his shoulder as she leans in a little close to him.
The blush lettering Minhyuk's cheek tells you that this isn't the first time she's been this close to him. He introduces you as the newest staff addition but she doesn't seem to be listening. What she does though is start to question him about his weekend. Making him almost forget that you're there. What does capture your attention meanwhile is the slight rustle - as if someone had walked away from around the corner. You're only able to catch the colour black and a suit comes to mind automatically.
"Everything alright y/n?" Minhyuk's voice makes you whip your head around back to him and you catch Ms King watching you as well.
"I-I just thought I saw someone." Ms King frowns at that.
"That must be Ryuk. Excuse me." She just smiles - one that doesn't reach her eyes as she steps away. Ryuk?
Sensing your confusion, Minhyuk answers your unanswered question. "That's Mr. Kim. His first name is Ryuk. Weird right?"
You just chuckle along with him - completely missing the underlying panicked tone. He continues the tour but after your run-in with Mr Kim's fiancé, he seems to be on edge.
The next day at work - Minhyuk is nowhere to be seen. Not the next day either. Then never again. A month later - you receive your new duties in the east wing. Minhyuk's designated area.
"Excuse me sir," Anders looks up from the sheets of paper he'd been handing out to the rest of the staff, "Isn't it M-Minhyuk's area? Am I temporarily-"
He doesn't let you finish. "He doesn't work here anymore dear. These will be your permanent duties until further notice."
Your heart clenches at his direct tone. He only spoke like this to you on your first day at work. He doesn't elaborate any further and you get the hint to not further question the change in staff.
You don't see Minhyuk again.
How were you so asinine that you didn't connect the dots before? Minhyuk's panic as he'd shown you to your duties after Mr Kim had possibly seen you three chatting with his Fiancé, him getting replaced - fired? - with you. He was simply removed from the Manor and you'd never heard his name from any of the other staff members either. It's like he never worked there. You were rapidly fading down the doomed rabbit hole. Already thinking of about a hundred ways Mr Kim's sons could have you disposed of. Maybe you were thinking too much? Not possible. With this family, anything was possible.
The tear that falls down your face has you bringing your cold hand up to your hot cheeks. Foolishly, you've forgotten to go much further away from the room you'd exited from. The panic clouding your senses as you fished for your phone from your pocket, hastily dialling your grandmother's house phone.
A few rings later, you hear your mother's annoyed tone. "H-hello Mama."
Her tone turns sickly sweet, dishonest you know but you try to trick your heart and your brain in to believing her concern. "Hi dear! Haven't heard from you in so long. Are you not at work?"
Her tone turns serious and worried instantly at the prospect of you not being at work. You also want to tell her that you called every two days after work but she never wanted to speak to you unless it was payday. But that doesn't hurt you nearly as much as her not even being remotely entered in your wellbeing.
"I am at work. Could you... could you put Nana on the phone please?"
"Um. Okay." That's it. your voice is cracking and you know she can hear you but she doesn't care enough to ask.
"Hello? y/n?"
"Nana." whimpering, you try to not burst out crying. Keeping the intense emotions at bay.
"What's wrong dear? Are you alright?" Hearing her perturbed tone at your distressed one only makes the tears fall quicker, making you slap them away so they don't blur your vision completely.
"Nana... I might be in trouble. I-I might get..." fired. You couldn't say it. Once you let her know you were a hundred percent sure your mother would be incessant in having her spill the bad news. She would make your grandmother's life hell and you couldn't do that to her. Your mother needed the steady money to keep her in rehab. You had hopes that since she was at least going to rehab - that one day she could be a good mother to you.
"What dear? You can tell me y/n." Pushing your hand over your mouth, you try and swallow the sob before it passes through the phone. Though you could already hear your mother asking your Nana what was going on.
"Be quiet Elizabeth! I'll tell you."
"I-I'm okay. I just miss you." You could do this. your grandmother didn't deserve this. No one deserved this just because you made a foolish mistake and you hope she doesn't question you further.
"We miss you too dear. So much. Will you be able to visit soon? Let her get back to work Ma." Your mother sounded angry and you wanted to scream at her through the phone that at least your grandmother cared.
"I'll let you know. I have to go now Nana. I love you."
"I love you too darling. So much." She stays on the line for a few more moments. Making sure you didn't want to say anything else.
Dropping your head down in your lap - you let the last few stray tears fall, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You needed to pull it together. Your family was counting on you to keep this job and you were going to fight for it. Even if you were several outnumbered. You had their secret and that should count for something, right? As long as you appeared strong in front of them - maybe they'll leave you alone.
Dusting off your uniform, wiping away at your face and checking it in the nearest grand mirror on the wall - you get to work. You still had a job.
What you domiss though, is the man who had witnessed your panicked tears. He hadn't expected himself to be this affected but the way his heart clenched and his hands curled into fists at your disturbed state - he'd never wanted to comfort someone this badly. Empathy. A foreign emotion indeed.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
genre: college au, teacher/student, dance instructor!hoseok, dance student! y/n, fluff 
warning(s)!!!: college stress (duh), y/n waited a couple years after high school before college for fiances, it’s not a college au unless someone works at a coffee shop lol, flirty hoseok, y/n might be a bit ditzy but in a cute way, y/n is also scared of storms 
w.count: 5.4k
Tumblr media
summary: moving to Seoul, South Korea had been a dream of yours and when you found out that you got accept at one of the best universities, you couldn’t have been happier!  That is until you met your dance teacher.  He was handsome, but strict and he made you fall for him hard.  You never thought he would feel the same until you got locked up one rainy night. 
Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: PG-13] 
Tumblr media
a/n: this is my contribution to BangtanIDX Prompt Twist! I got @pjmsgalaxy​ prompt, so I hope she (and everyone else) enjoys it! Gotta be honest, I’m not sure if I’ve ever written a teacher/student fic  and i don’t read much of them dafdlskf, there’s a first time for everything LMAO  I hope I did alright asdlfjakj (I also very very sloppily proof read this, or i proofread half of it then got lazy uhoh) 
Tumblr media
“Where did I-” you muttered to yourself as you dug through the fourth box in your newly moved into studio apartment.  You were a reigning champ of procrastination and now you were looking for your gym duffel to place all your dance equipment in.  
Not finding it in lucky box number four, you sighed and continued your quest to find the hideously amazing holographic duffel your mother had bought for you just before your move to Seoul.  “There you are!” You exclaimed as you saw a small patch of shining, colorful silver before you grabbed it and yanked it out.  Small trinkets and pens flew from the box in its rupture out of the cardboard prison.
It had been just two days since you had signed a lease for this single, tiny, cramped apartment in Seoul.  But, it was your best choice of living because who would’ve thought that Seoul’s living expenses were through the roof.  It would do, however; since you were finally getting ready to enroll in Hanyang University in their department of dance. Part of your subconscious wasn’t able to comprehend the fact that you managed to get into a private university in Seoul, but nonetheless there you were.  
You sat on your floor, boxes all around you with your holographic duffel with rainbow striped straps on your lap.  You sighed as you felt a small flutter of nerves in your chest.  
This was what you have wanted since you realized how much you loved dancing.  Graduating, majoring in dance, going to a prestigious school.  It was all so much more dazzling than you thought it’d be.  Of course, you had to take a couple years off of high school to save up enough money to even begin thinking about college tuition, but now here you were.  Two years of hard work finally paid off as you were enrolling into education once more. 
“Oh shoot,” you hissed as you placed the duffel aside and made for other boxes.  “I need to find my alarm clock. I know I just saw it,” you muttered more as you began to once again dig around.  Unpacking fully would need to wait- it was already 7 in the evening.  Unpacking your new home would be a tomorrow job and future you’s problem.  
It was bright and early the next day as you dragged yourself out of your messy, box filled apartment with a bag of books and folders and your duffel packed full with a water bottle, proper shoes and a change of clothes.  Along with your typical dance classes of ballet and choreography (or also called composition) courses, you would be taking your standard classes as well.  Dance history and theory for example.  Those were more sit down and take notes classes, so your standard textbook and spiral notebook were absolutely a must. 
Dressed with your jeans rolled to your calf and your shirt untucked, you walked to sit patiently at the public bus stop just in time to catch the 8 o’clock morning rounds.  Getting off with a handful of other college students, you almost halted at the university gates.  Those nerves thumping in your chest again before you pulled yourself together and finally took those first steps as a twenty-year-old college student. 
You entered the spacious dance studio your choreography class was held in as you gulped.  You had just changed into your leggings and sweater with your less than brilliant shoes with just enough grip left on the soles not to slide around.  
You ducked your head instinctively as you trotted to the back of the room. The mirrors across the studio tracked your every tiptoed step as some students were stretching. Some were doing warm ups, some doing small numbers of footwork, others just standing talking or keeping to themselves until the instructor came. You were of the latter group. Taking refuge up in a corner as you sat your duffel (that happened to stand out way too much among the others) behind you and took a seat.  
As you sat, you opened your legs in front of you and did small stretches just to occupy yourself until the class began. The lump in your throat made it damn near impossible to even try and talk to someone else even though you knew you’d be working and dancing with these people through your major years. 
As you were stretching forward to grab around your foot and feel the comfortable pull in your legs, you silently hoped that the instructor you ended up with wouldn’t be a complete nightmare.  You’ve seen and read one too many dramatic stories that involve over the top teachers who have the ‘perfect or failing’ mentality.  Of course, you knew that it was all for show and production in your books or on your television screen- but nonetheless, it was stressful to think about. 
You yelped when someone tapped your shoulder, getting your attention as you were previously too lost in thought about an over dramatic, middle-age crone with a permanent frown as your teacher- may as well imagine Lady Tremaine as the instructor of your nightmares. 
When you turned, ready to apologize you nervously chuckled as you saw the handsome red haired man sat beside you with a Puma bag beside him.  Wearing gym shorts and a jacket matching his duffel with worn out shoes, he pushed his hair out of the way of his sweat band around his head.  He smiled, waving at you. 
“First year, huh?” He asked gleefully as you just nodded before clearing your throat. 
“Oh, yeah.  I just enrolled. I feel a bit awkward since I’m older than the other freshman by a couple years.  Guess that's what I get for taking a couple years after highschool though, huh?” You joked back to the stranger as he sat and crossed his legs beside you. He nodded, closing his eyes in a face of understanding. 
“Makes since though.  This school isn’t cheap, for sure.” With another nod, he opened eyes when he grinned widely again at  you.  “Don’t worry about it,” he told you with a shoulder pat.  “You look young anyways. You’ll fit right in. We twenty-somethings’ need to stick together, huh?” He asked as you looked at him with a small sparkle in your eyes.  
“You’re in your twenties?” You gasped lightly. “Oh, jeez that was rude. Sorry,” you awkwardly brush off as you mentally screech into the void.  Thankfully, he just laughed at you- but seemed blissfully unoffended.  
“I’m definitely in my twenties,” he confirmed.  He looked at the watch on his wrist as he silently opened his mouth into an ‘o’ as he started to uncross his legs to stand.  He patted your back again. “Thanks for the chat, I’m a lot less anxious now,” he told you as he started moving away.  You looked back to your lap and let out a breath.  You smiled.  If anything- he was the one who worked your anxiety away.  
Your attention was grabbed when the studio door was shut and someone clapped from the front of the studio by the wall full of mirrors. Repeated students from previous years were soon sitting down and the freshmen were all sitting rigid- just as you were in your corner. 
At the front of the class was the same guy who was just talking to you.  Setting his duffel from his shoulder to his feet by the mirror wall on the floor. He turned and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around the room of 20 something students.  Some familiar, some not.  He just smiled at them all as a group. 
“I sure hope this is everyone,” he started speaking when the small murmuring of others died down to focus on him.  “I don’t take well to students being late, so make sure to remember that.  If you’re not here on time, I’m locking that door and you’re not getting in.” He addressed, pointing to the studio door that was firmly shut. “On with formalities then,” he clapped again as he moved to start pacing back and forth along the mirrors.  “As of today, some of you had never seen me before. Why? Well, because you're new of course.” He stopped in his paces before he turned to face the class sitting on the wooden floor. “I’m Jung Hoseok, and I’m this studio’s choreography instructor. Feel free to address me casually if you’d like.” 
You nearly threw your head against the wall you leaned back against.  You were just chatting it up and talking about age with your teacher?! He was one of very few people who really didn’t need to know your age.  Not to mention, the passing thought of thinking he was an attractive man suddenly felt taboo. You’ve heard of teachers and student’s hooking up, but only in stories! 
However, by the time the class ended many things were apparent to you.  One, this class wasn’t going to have a shortage of difficulty. Hoseok ran through the curriculum and all the points and class topics he wanted to hit and practice through the semesters.  
Two, you’d definitely need to start opening up to your classmates for group and duo projects or else you wouldn’t get very far into your college career. 
Lastly three, the way Hoseok acted and carried himself like another goofy highschooler who loved dancing more than a fish loves water made him undeniably attractive and maybe- just maybe- your hopeless romantic heart thudded under your hoodie. 
Tumblr media
It was a week into your college course that you were already feeling tired from all the running back and forth between physical classes and sit down classes.  You felt like your legs were screaming, but eventually you knew you’d get used to it. 
You were walking as you packed your books into your bag. One thing that Hoseok made clear wasn’t a joke on the first day was his ‘locking the door if you’re late’ rule.  He ended up locking 3 students out of the studio on the second day and you made sure that if it was getting close to his classes start time, you were running and weaving past students in the halls and outside in the quad.  Rules be damned. 
You had just stepped out of the bathroom where you had locked yourself inside a stall to change into your sweats and tee from your jean shorts and sweater when you bumped into your aforementioned handsome dance instructor. 
Too busy trying to pry your water bottle out of your duffel mixed with trying to shove your wadded up clothes back into the same duffel and juggling your other class’ bag with books on your shoulder all met in the demise of your shoulder at your rammed into Hoseok’s. 
Your metal thermos hit the title in the most unmelodic sound known to man as you jolt and screech in a semi-panic all in an attempt to catch it.  Before you could shove your duffel behind you with your sweater hanging half out to reach for your fallen drink in it’s metal prison, Hoseok was already bent at the knees and picking it up instead. 
You took the chance to shove your stupid clothes into your duffel completely and zip it when Hoseok was ready to had you your thermos.  All while he just stifled a chuckle you could see building in his cheeks.  
“In a rush?” He teased, knowing full well his class started in under ten minutes.  You bit back the sarcastic reply on your tongue, reminding yourself that this was your teacher- not just another student you could afford to smart off to.  
“Well, I don’t want to be locked out, so,” you shrugged, unsure if your tone made you seem snippy. Hopefully not. 
“The day I have to lock you out of the studio for being late, maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let it slide.” He teased as he placed your thermos into your palm.  “Let’s go if you’re heading that way.” 
“You’re walking with me?” 
“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged.  “I’m going to the same place and besides, I did say that we twenty-somethings need to stick together,” he joked in a lop-sided smile that pushed up one of his cheeks.  
“I wish you’d forget that I ever mentioned my age to you at all,” you groaned as he started walking and you tailed behind him until he slowed his pace to walk beside you.  You rushed into the studio in front of him to make sure you made it before him as you rushed to your designated corner before anyone could notice you walked with Hoseok to his class.  Properly tying your shoes, you rotated the ball of your worn dance shoes, listening to them squeak as they tried to grip the floors the best they could. 
You really needed a new pair soon. Your new job’s first paycheck will be used more for bills then it seemed, a new pair of shoes seemed to be in your future. As Hoseok started class and got everyone to their feet to work through some simple steps to get warmed up for a proper assignment on the horizon, you could help but once again admire his shift from friendly, giggly Hoseok who teased you in the hall to the strict and passionate dance instructor.  
Tumblr media
“Y/n, could you run the register for just a couple more minutes?  Laura is running late, but she said she’s just around the corner stuck in that traffic jam.”  Your boss begged as you were about to clock out from your third day on the job.  It wasn’t too hard to learn the ropes since you knew how to work registers as well as you could recite the alphabet.  You just smiled, trying to wipe the crease out of her brows.  She was clearly hoping you wouldn’t say no. 
“I don’t mind,” you told her, her shoulder slackening. “I know the traffic sucks today. I can hang around a bit longer. I don’t have anything else to do tonight anyways.” With a promise to pay you for your overtime from your boss, you re-tied the apron around your waist and rushed back to the front where you joined the floundering staff already there.  “What can I help with?” You asked them as they rang up someone.  
“Just get me away from this thing,” they half whined in a weak laugh as you stepped up and began taking orders like you were programmed to do.  Working through customer after customer, you soon saw Laura rushing into the coffee shop when the bell above the door jingled.  She ran to you behind the counter.  Apologize for being late, you assure her to take her time and not to worry too much about it.  
You finally clocked out when you snagged a muffin from the display and made your way out around the counter. Your boss spoke to you for a moment across the display of pastries as Laura was already hard at work until closing hours.  You bit into your muffin as you heard someone call you.  Thinking it was a co-worker from the familiar ring it had, you turned immediately only to be met with none other than Hoseok.  
He came jogging up to you, a coffee in his hand. 
“Oh, Instructor Jung,” you greeted in shock.  He cringed as you addressed him so formally.  Almost everyone in your class had already reverted to calling him by name as he so kindly requested.  You were one of the very few stragglers who still addressed him so formally.  
“Instructor Jung? Really? That makes me sound like some old man who hates people,” he shivered.  “Just call me by name,” he told you.  Your boss tapped your shoulder, asking who this stranger with the round cute cheeks and healthy red hair was.  He took a sip of his coffee through the straw of his to-go cup. He reached his hand across the counter-top to your boss once he swallowed the caffeine.  “Jung Hoseok,” he introduced. “I actually teach Y/n’s dance choreography class in her major.” 
“Well, what a lucky girl she is,” your boss teased you with flickering eyebrows that rose and fell in quick motions. Your face bloomed as you wanted to throw the remains of your muffin at her. You were never so thankful you had so much self-restraint.  “I’ll see her tapping her feet or shuffling around in the back during her break, it’s pretty adorable.” Okay, maybe less self-restraint if she kept going. 
You cleared your throat, face hot as you were determined to escape.  “If you’re done teasing me, I’m going home now.” 
“But of course,” your boss mused.  “I’ll see you back in a couple days sweetheart,” she waved as she went back to her bossly duties of bosshood. 
“It was good seeing you-” 
“You're heading home, yeah? I’ll drive you,” Hoseok offered before you could properly attempt to depart. 
“What?” You asked in shock, nearly dropping the same muffin you wanted to throw just moments ago.  “Drive me? Oh, you don’t need to. I’ll just take the bus.” 
“Nonsense,” he told you, stepping beside you and nudging you with a friendly smile. “It’s cheaper this way.” That was true.  The word ‘cheaper’ was your favorite among the thousands in the words as a struggling college newby.  Ultimately, you ended up in the passenger seat of Hoseok’s jeep as he pulled off the curb and into the awful traffic that had previously made Laura so late to her shift.  “So, you dance at work huh?” He asked, his eyes set on the road as his fingers tapped at his steering wheel. 
“Oh god, please forget you ever heard her say that.” 
Hoseok broke into squawks of laughter that pulled at your own lips and the tension you had built up crumbled as you began to just talk.  You had even forgotten he was your instructor as you spoke to him like you were talking to a friend.  It wasn't until he was pulling up in front of your apartment building when that reality came back. 
“Get some rest tonight,” Hoseok told you before you stepped out of the jeep. “I’m gonna assign drills and dance routines tomorrow in class.” You blinked as you looked at him confused. 
“Why tell me this? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait to tell me with the rest of the class?” You asked as Hoseok just laughed lightly back to you, nudging  your thigh as you started climbing out of the jeep. 
“Have a good evening, Y/n,” he told  you, totally disregarding your previous questions, leaving you ever more confused.  You just nodded at him, now pursuing the topic any longer than you wanted to.  He watched to make sure you got up the set of outside stairs and unlocked your door before disappearing inside before he drove off. 
Tumblr media
Just as he had told you, the next day he was assigning certain groups of students different routines or tasks to practice. Over the course of the next week you’d be free to practice your assignment given to you before delivering it to Hoseok. The concept of him not particularly instructing this project was to gauge the level of self-teaching.  He would supervise and give advice and tips if asked, but he would not be out right teaching just yet.  
You were among the group of people given a small little number running just shy of two minutes.  Focusing more on footwork and precision rather than graceful nimbleness.  A faster paced routine was something you felt wasn’t your strongest set of skills, but you enjoyed the feeling of learning nonetheless.  
You often spent your afternoons you didn’t have to work in the studio, or inside the practice rooms off the studio practicing. You had opened up to a few other students given the same routine and gotten their advice as you had given yours in return.  Hoseok had already told you a few times things you needed to keep in mind while practicing. 
This particular night, two weeks into the curriculum you had stayed just a bit too long practicing you had completely lost track of time.  In fact, you would've even stopped to notice the empty rooms and the darkening skies outside if it weren’t for the knocking at the practice room’s door.  
You had locked yourself inside one of the private, off studio’s to listen to the track assigned with your routine. Getting a feel for the beat and tapping to it for a rhythm balance over and over again made you lose track of time absolutely.  When there was a knock you just barely managed to hear over a small dip in the music track, you looked through the room door’s window to see Hoseok waving at you to come out. 
Discarding your headphones, you got up and unlocked the door. Opening it to see your instructor dressed not in his sweats and hoodies for practice, but in jeans and a tee- ready to go home for the day. He looked unfairly well dressed in casual wear.
His brow was dipped as he glanced outside just before he looked back to you in your lamp lit small room. He could hear the faint hums of your music from your headphones you left on the floor behind you. 
“Why are you still here, Y/n?” He asked. You blinked at him as if he was asking some asinine question. “Classes ended hours ago and that storm in the forecast is about to hit. You should get home,” he told you. You opened your eyes as you looked over his shoulder outside the window of the main studio. 
Indeed the skies were dark and sprinkled with raindrops of the future downpour.  How long had you been absorbed in your music? You ran back to your headphones and phone along with your bag and duffel as Hoseok moved to the front of the studio to wait at the door, but with a jiggle of the studio’s door, his face drained of color.  
A jiggle was worrisome, two was just as worrisome and three was completely worrisome with a tablespoon of panic. The door was jammed, the knob not turning and the door not budging even when Hoseok yanking or shoving on it.  
You had shut off the light in the private room, walking out into the lit studio where Hoseok was fiddling with the door.  You could hear the metal of the doorknob rattling under his palm echo in the empty dance room as you got to his side. You already feared what he was going to say when he turned to you with a tense expression. 
“Don’t tell me,” you spoke with a fallen face as he just let go of the doorknob. All routes of escape leading to utter failure.  Hoseok quickly cleared his throat as he looked around the empty room. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he spoke, his voice echoing in the large emptiness.  “Someone will make their rounds in the morning and get us out.  I have some granola bars in my bag we can eat and extra water bottles in my duffel.  We just have to tough it out for one night.” 
He tried making light of the situation to ease your tense shoulders.  He could understand though.  You were busy and lost track of time only to be told to leave by your teacher before some nasty weather hits.  Only to be now stuck in that same room he told you to leave with him.  You probably wanted to go home, take a bath and sleep in your bed. But, now you were forced to stick around in the studio until morning instead.  Talk about an impromptu and unwanted sleepover. 
However, it wasn’t the fact you had to stay in the studio that night that made you nervous.  It shockingly, it wasn’t fact you’d be sharing the space with your more than handsome dance teacher either.  It was the small rumbling you heard outside that made you anxious. 
The first ten minutes of your small sit down with Hoseok was rigid and uncomfortable for both parties.  You were nervous as you picked at your shirt’s loose threads and Hoseok was nervous because he felt like he was making you nervous.  The endless cycle of nerves was suffocating.  
“Sorry for the door,” Hoseok broke the nearly nauseating silence as he scratched behind his neck.  “I didn’t think it’d be busted. Someone must have slammed it shut and jammed it or something.” 
“It’s fine,” was your curt answer.  
Hoseok looked into the mirrors, watching your reflection- too afraid of freaking you out if he actually looked at you.  He cleared his throat.  “So, uh- how’s your routine coming?” He tried again. Maybe a different topic will result in different results. 
“It’s coming,” you shrugged. “Clearly I’m focusing on it too much,” you told him, motioning to the current situation. 
“At least you don’t work today, right?” Hoseok tried lifting the spirits in the room with a smile.  You cracked a smile back to him finally. 
“That’s-”
The sky shook with thunder, interrupting your voice as Hoseok looked outside the window.  The rain had begun as it pelted against the windows. You could hear the wind blow through the roof and along the window outside as it pushed the rain at an angle.  The instructor whistled. 
“That’s some nasty weather,” he muttered. When you didn’t respond in agreement, he looked back to you. He sat straighter when he saw you covering your ears with your palms.  “Y/n?” He called as you seemed to remember where you were as you lowered your hands immediately and placed them back on your lap.  You crossed your legs, bouncing one of them as the rain continued to hit the building and window and the thunder continued to roll. 
It was impossible for Hoseok not to see how jittery the weather got you.  He slowly scooched closer to your side after reaching for the previous mentioned granola snack he had with him.  He offers it to you, hoping to ease you.  You accept it, taking anything to keep your mind off the weather blaring outside like sirens in your head. 
“Not a storm lover, eh?” He asked, but as lightly as he could. He asked in the same way someone would cover a child with a satin blanket. It was soft and comforting the way he spoke. You shook your head as you bit into the grainy snack. “I don’t mind them so much, but I guess some people really can’t stand storms.” 
“‘Can’t help it,” you mumbled after you swallowed a bite.  “I’ve been scared of them since I was little and just never outgrew it.” 
Hoseok was soon rubbing your back as he sat next to you. You jumped every time thunder sounded and closed your eyes with a small yelp each time you caught a glimpse of lightning.  Luckily enough the storm didn’t have nearly the strength to blow out the power, so he wouldn’t need to comfort you in a black out at the very least. 
He was sitting beside you for nearly half an hour before he finally thought of something to keep your mind off the storm.  
“Y/n, dance with me,” he pitched into the empty room as he continued to rub your back.  You shot your head up to look at him, cheeks hot and mouth open in a small ‘huh?’. He just chuckled.  “We’re stuck in here anyways, so let’s dance to pass the time!” He told you he was already spinning to his feet before he grabbed your hands and started pulling you up and out of your cross-legged position. 
“You can’t be serious!” You squealed as he got you standing.  He ran over to the stereo system and hooked his phone up to it before setting a playlist.  Soon, music started pulsing through the speakers as you felt the vibrations of the bass through the floor into your bare feet after long abandoning your shoes and socks. 
He danced back to you as he grabbed your hands and started dragging you around as he laughed.  “Come on! It’ll be fun!” Pretty soon, he was twirling you around every which way he could before he actually started to properly dance.  You were reverting back to your dance brain as you started properly doing footwork and taking correct stances.  
What started as goofing off to keep your mind off the storm turned into a private study with Hoseok watching your practice the very dance that kept you here in the first place this evening. He had turned on the song assigned to you and the small group of people who were assigned the same thing as it looped over and over again. 
Drill after drill with different steps of advice and stance correction was more fun with Hoseok than you thought possible.  He would push on your back to fix your stance or twist your calf when you stepped so you wouldn’t trip.  He showed you how to dance certain parts as  you mirrored him.  
You both watched the reflections of yourselves dancing the same quick footwork number side by side over and over again. And each new drill came with bigger smiles and louder laughing.  You had actually forgotten about the storm outside over the sound of the music and Hoseok’s laughter. 
The storm had subsided well after midnight and you finally fell to the floor, ready for something close to a hardwood nap at nearly three am.  Hoseok fell next to you, still in a fit of giggles as you just breathed heavily.  
“I don't know if I’ve danced that much ever,” you panted as Hoseok rolled from his back to his stomach to look at you on your back staring at the ceiling. He rested his chin over his crossed arms on the floor as he looked at the side of your face.  He finally looked at him, feeling his stares and flinched when you looked into his eyes.  You couldn't bring yourself to look away now.  “Hoseok?” 
He smiled unconsciously bright at your casual calling. “You sound pretty saying my name,” he told you, making your face flush.  “You looked even prettier when you blush too,” he teased, kicking his feet up behind him like a five-year-old. You turned your head away from him finally as you looked back to the ceiling, not able to hide your red cheeks as he just kept admiring them.  “Hey, Y/n?” He called to which you just hummed, not trusting your voice. “Wanna go get some coffee in the morning with me?” 
You whipped your head back to look at him, seeing his smug smile on his head due to your deepening flushed skin.  You felt like you were on the brink of sweating, you were so flushed.  
“I- uh, huh?” 
“When we get freed from the practice room, let’s get coffee. I’ll cancel class so we can. I don’t want to have class after being locked in here all night anyway.” 
“I work in the afternoon though,” you lamely told him.  He just smiled away, unable to bring himself to feel upset about anything. 
“Then I’ll drop you off before work and then pick you up to take you home when you're done.” 
“That sounds like you’re trying to flirt with me.” 
“Y/n, I’m asking you on a date. Of course I’m flirting.” He deadpanned with a smirk as you shot up from laying down to sitting up.  You looked down at him laying on his stomach, that small smirk still painted on his lips as you turned away from him.  
“Well, I guess if you’re asking me,” you muttered. “I suppose I could go for some coffee,” you finished.  Hoseok had to suppress even more chuckles and teases at the sight of your smile he saw in the reflection of the studio’s mirrors when you accepted his offer.  
“Well then, I guess you better get to sleep.  We’ve got a date in the morning,” he chided as he shot up to his knees and palms, moved closer to just barely get into your line of sight to wink you. He crawled to his bag he used as a pillow as you lay across the room from him doing the same.  
How could you possibly get to sleep now? It didn’t matter, you reasoned; as you’d have coffee later to wake you up.
Tumblr media
~END~
72 notes · View notes
Text
Survey #348
“nothing will be free  /  nothing will be done  /  black out the sun”
Do you have any famous relatives? My third or so cousin is the author of Not Without My Daughter, but she's not like a smash hit or anything that most people know. I really do recommend the book, though. It's a long read, but a beautiful, true story. Do you care about celebrity gossip? Nah. Have you ever failed a science course in high school? No; I was very good at science. What’s your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Does your house have a basement? No. No house I've ever lived in has had one. Do you like Hot Topic? Well duh. Do you think imagination is valuable? VERY! Just imagine how many incredible things wouldn't exist without it. What was your reaction to your first time falling in love? Unspeakably happy, and I felt like I was building a future with someone. I felt like I had purpose, which I should mention to anyone reading is a mindset to NEVER adopt. No one gives you purpose; you're born with it. How much weight can you lift at once? Ha, not a lot. When you have your own house someday, what color Christmas tree do you want and how will you decorate it? I want a black one with faux snow on the branches, then maybe red ornaments. Kinda look like blood dripping off. Sounds metal. Name three YouTube channels you’ve been loving lately. Lately, John Wolfe, The Dark Den, and Aim To Head Mix. Have you ever bought a designer purse? No. Do you wear jewelry often? No. What color was your senior prom dress? Black. Are you colorblind? No. Name the people you know who are colorblind. Jason's older brother is colorblind to two colors, but idr which. Would you ever consider a career in writing? I'd love to. What was your first favorite color? Red. What do you think about horror movies? I love them. If you love them, what’s your favorite? I really enjoy The Crazies and both The Blair Witch Project movies. Oh, and of course Silent Hill. Got any cool Christmas presents picked out for family or friends yet? I don't have the money to get anyone presents... and while I sometimes get ideas about something I could make someone, then it wouldn't be fair to the rest of my family if I don't make them something, too. What’s your favorite word and why? I really like the sound of "serendipity," as well as its meaning. It's just a pretty, nice word. Do you like to do craft projects? If so, what’s the coolest thing you made? Not really... I think the coolest thing I made was when I put the clay heart I made in Art into a shadowbox, and a poem I wrote was in the background. It was a gift for Jason. I remember working really hard on the whole process and being really happy with it. I don't want to know what he's done with it since. What’s one occupation you think gets paid too much and doesn’t deserve to? I don't know. What’s something you are currently saving money for to buy? Everyone knows about Venus' terrarium by now... Do you smoke/vape? If so, what brand do you smoke/what device do you use? No. Ever done drugs? No. Tell me one of your worst habits. Catastrophizing. I take a tiny seed of something potentially bad, and in seconds it's a damn redwood tree. And I do mean "in seconds." What’s a weird quirk you have that no one else you know does? I don't know, I don't have any particularly unique ones, I think. If you game, what type of headset do you use? I just use earbuds. Do you think you would be a good therapist? You know, it's funny, I've actually pictured myself as one a few times, given my level of understanding and empathy for people, as well as how deeply I want to see others succeed and spread the word that recovery from things like depression is very possible. I've never truly entertained the thought, though, given I'm quite sure I legally couldn't be given my suicidal past and mental illnesses. There is also NO way I could listen to so many people's suffering and manage to stay healthy myself, so, no therapist position for me, thanks. Have you ever been to a Chinatown? No. Do you prefer chunky or creamy peanut butter? Creamy, 100%. Do you stop to pick up heads-up pennies? No. Do your pets have collars? Describe them: Roman has an adorable navy one with a bowtie. Do you have any friends that speak any languages you don’t understand? Old friends, sure. What is something you want to begin learning? I want to improve my ability to perform what in therapy is called "opposite action," where you do the opposite of what your depression (or other conditions) make you want to do. It always helps me feel good, like when I draw even when I don't initially feel like it, but it's rough to really force yourself to do it. What is a food you find comforting when you are sad? Ice cream is my comfort food. What is a quote you find comfort in? There are really a lot, but none come to mind immediately, gah. What is one Tumblr blog you really appreciate? I actually haven't been on my main Tumblr in months, but oh my god there is a Markiplier blog called "lady-raziel" and she is FUCKING HYSTERICAL. The meme quality is A+. What is a comfort movie/show for you? When I actually liked watching movies, I enjoyed watching Silent Hill when I was down. That whole franchise just makes me so happy. What is a recent creative project that you are proud of? That I'm PROUD of, idk. I'm not that happy with the last drawing I made, and I haven't done any serious writing lately that I find noteworthy. What is a video game that you find comforting? Shadow of the Colossus is probably #1. I find it so relaxing while equally epic as fuck. The soundtrack is to die for, and after playing it a billion times, it's pretty easy for me to kinda breeze through and just enjoy myself. Do you know how to bake bread? If so, what is something you’ve baked recently? No. Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest? THE MOUNTAINS!!! Particularly in the woods IN the mountains! Are you closer to your mother’s or father’s side of the family? Mom's. I don't even remember anyone from Dad's. Have you ever been in a ���perfect relationship”? I thought so. Have you ever lost a fingernail or toenail? No. Were you a Disney or Nickelodeon kid? I preferred Disney. Have you ever been inside a jail/prison? No, and I don't plan on it. Have you ever dated a guy with a beard, mustache, or goatee? Jason had a goatee usually. He'd go clean-shaven sometimes. Did you ever name your stuffed animals? I named every single one I got as a kid. Now I don't, really, unless they're really special. What’s the name of the person who cuts your hair? I'd rather not share, given her name is very unique. Do you like cheeseburgers? Yes, they're one of my favorite foods. Do you have a Flickr? Yes, but I don't use it anymore. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Do you drink milk? Yeah, I love milk. Where was your FB display pic taken? My room. Have you ever burnt your tongue like REALLY bad? If so, what on? Yeah; white rice. My dumb ass didn't realize it had JUST come off the stove. My tongue hurt literally for weeks. Have you ever gotten your legs waxed? No. Do you own any CLOTHES from Victoria’s Secret? Er, are undergarments not clothes? But I know what you mean. No. What are your grandfathers’ names? William and... I can't remember Dad's dad's name. Have you ever seen a snake in real life? Well yeah. Are you against seances? I don't know if I believe in them being effective, but either way, they seem like a bad idea. Even risking luring a negative energy/spirit to you is something I'd stay away from. Do you own any superhero shirts? No, just Harley Quinn ones, some with the Joker on them, too. I need to toss 'em though because I am like, violently against romanticizing their abusive relationship. I used to just like them as a story character couple, but I got to a place where it just seemed... wrong to "glorify" it by wearing merch and stuff. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica, durrrr. Who is the biggest jerk you’ve ever met? Can you believe that would be my former best friend? Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never had an animal in my path. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you like kissing in public? If you're my serious s/o, I could care less, so long as it's a simple peck. I'm not making out in front of people. Do you think someone has feelings for you? I don't know. Do you want to be in a relationship this year? I don't know. I'm lonely and love feels amazing, but I need to get my life on track before I can be a good partner to someone and not just dead weight. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you? Huh, funny, he's the one that walked away. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander? Uhhh that would depend on how serious we are, where we are, and just what mood I'm in. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you? ugh What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone? also ugh What’s your dirtiest secret? TMI AHEAD. Probably receiving oral while bare-ass naked on the chaise in the living room while we were home alone. Or having sex in my sister’s bed. Oops. Would you ever get lyrics tattooed on yourself? Yeah. I already do, anyway, and I plan on getting another. Can you photoshop images well? I'm decent at it. Where did you last drive to? Mom and I went to go get our Covid vaccines today. What’s the first verse of the last song you listened to? "I don't know what we're supposed to be, but I know we lost it along the way to something better, something so much more than pleasure that we seek, so blind inside to fill these holes left by these lies that we tell to ourselves as we manufacture our own hell." What do you hear right now? The aforementioned song: "BLACKOUT" by 3TEETH. What was the last thing you laughed about? This is so fucking immature lmao but when we were driving earlier, we passed a gas station that had a sign that was advertising Coke, but due to space limitations, it abbreviated to "2 liter Cok" and I cackled like a child. Mom laughed harder than I did. Do you know any gay people personally? Ye. What was the last thing that startled you? I think it was a car hoonking at somebody the other day. What was the last thing to make you even remotely sad? Today's been a kind of rough PTSD day thanks to Facebook. My old high school friend had her beautiful daughter, a childhood friend just got married the other day, another friend is due to have her baby in just a couple weeks... It's just weird but even more painful to know it was the life I once fantasized about with a guy that just dropped me and made a break for it. I hate admitting that there's this deep, deep bitterness in me about it, like he took my life away from me, even though that's of course very unfair to say. I don't want to talk about this anymore, so moving on with my day.
5 notes · View notes
Text
More Than Words (Twenty Four)
Ohhh this chapter is sad, but honestly the scene with Johnny is beautiful. TW for mentions of depression/Peter coping by way of too many pills. Just basically what you’d expect after last chapter. Tissues are needed.
MTW MASTERLIST HERE
**************
Three months later…
Afterwards, after everything, after mysteriously appearing at Haven Mercy Hospital and being lost unconscious for most of two weeks, after the panic and anxiety and screaming, after repeated sedation and psychological evaluations, after multiple prescriptions for pain pills and sleep aids and mood stabilizers--
--afterwards, even three months afterwards, Peter just never quite recovered. 
The Omega had always been lean, but afterwards Peter couldn’t seem to put on weight at all. His cheekbones stayed sharply defined, his collarbone oddly prominent beneath his shirts. His wrists were fragile, skinny jeans loose at his waist, and the dusting of freckles across his nose stark against skin that stayed pale no matter how often his friends came along to drag him out into the winter sun.
The aches and pains from his ordeal lingered far longer than they should have, and the Omega compensated with prescription level narcotics to keep himself numb. And If he wasn’t numb then Peter was angry, sharp and caustic and swinging between furious that Cable had ruined his life and devastated thinking about Wade left alone without him. 
It wreaked havoc on his mind to be so constantly close to out of control, so Peter took dose after dose of the stabilizers to keep himself steady and empty and disassociated from it all. 
Once he was numb and steady, the Omega was only ever tired, but nightmares were a constant companion since leaving the hospital so Peter took the sleeping pills every night before passing out comatose in his bed so he could make it till morning. 
Numb. Empty. Exhausted. 
The world was dull, extra strength blockers muting the Omega to the emotions or scent of anyone who passed by, extra strength suppressants keeping him so far past blank that other Omega’s stopped in the street and stared at him in shock, Alphas started to go out of their way to understand why such a pretty Omega scented so pale but then turned and left again when they caught sight of the empty in Peter’s eyes. 
This new reality was far away from the giddy happiness that had been days with his Alpha, the drugging lust of unbridled moments when touches grew careless and kisses grew sharp, the hazy beauty of trust and love and adoration sank deep into dark red eyes…
This was so far away from everything and the thought never failed to make Peter’s mood dive, to make his body ache as if grief left physical bruises, to bring his nightmares back around into vivid focus. 
But the pain pills helped. The mood stabilizers helped. The sleep aids helped. And the Omega refilled the prescriptions as often as allowed and took the pills all together so he didn’t have to go a single moment without something to shield his heart and soul from the mate sickness tearing ragged edges at his sanity. 
The award money from the expose against Justin Hammer paid the bills, and even though Peter had been offered several different jobs and several glowing recommendations both from his former boss at the Bugle and Tony Stark himself, the Omega turned every opportunity down. 
He didn’t have to work quite yet and he didn’t want to work maybe ever again, so the Omega simply didn’t. 
He simply didn’t.
The Omega didn’t do much of anything, really. It was a miserable winter in New York so most reasons for wanting to stay home were at least partially credible. His reasons for avoiding going to the movies or out for dinner with his friends and May were less credible, but everyone tried to be patient, tried to be understanding, tried to give Peter the benefit of the doubt and all the time he needed to work past whatever had happened. 
They didn’t really know what had happened of course. Doctor Grey had assured May that Peter’s hurt hadn’t been everything awful like they’d initially feared but she couldn’t-- or wouldn’t-- say more than that. 
Nobody knew and Peter wasn’t inclined to say much of anything anymore, much less to talk about his time away, so May never pushed but only offered, “I’m here if you want to talk, Peter.” and his friends acted as if nothing was wrong, acted like he was being a cranky Omega and just needed a little bit of time to get over it.
From a doctor’s standpoint, neither approach was ideal but on the days Peter felt anything at all, he felt a little grateful for people who loved him and tried. 
Gwen and Mary Jane came over at least once a week to bring Peter food and invade his space by way of cuddles and movie marathons. Mary Jane would snuggle close into Peter’s side and purr into his ear, rub her cheek into his shoulder and try to share her muted scent with the other Omega, giving comfort by way of shared biologies and the knowing that sometimes only an Omega could understand how someone else was hurting. 
Gwen’s approach was more along the lines of loving bullying, the Alpha pushing and prodding and practically manhandling Peter up against her body until they were plastered together on the couch, or hauling Pete’s lean frame right on her lap and hand feeding him whatever food they’d brought along, growling and teasing and being as obnoxious an Alpha as she dared until the Omega would finally, reluctantly eat. 
Harry came over more often than the girls did, the instinct to protect an Omega he loved over-riding the other responsibilities in his life. The best thing about being Norman Osborn’s son was a guaranteed paycheck and position at the company whether he was physically present or not, and Harry took full advantage of the privilege. 
Some mornings he brought along the newspaper and a new book for Peter and cajoled the Omega outside and at least down to a little cafe for breakfast, other times he dropped by for lunch with a stack of applications for internships or jobs he thought Peter would be interested in. Every once in a while he’d get the Omega out of the house after dark for a movie or even just a walk through the park to look at the stars and Peter always smiled a little bit those nights, smiled and one time even stood on his toes to give Harry a very soft kiss on the cheek. 
Johnny only came by a few times, once or twice with the girls where he sat awkwardly in the other chair and watched as Gwen and MJ chatted amiably about their days while brushing at Peter’s hair and fussing about his clothes, and once or twice with Harry when they went for lunch or a walk. The Alpha was withdrawn and quiet, never quite looking at Peter but unable to look away all at the same time. 
If Peter were healthy and normal and whole he might push Johnny up to a wall and demand to know what was wrong, why the Alpha was being weird, or he might even cry and ask why Johnny hadn't come to the hospital. 
But the Omega wasn’t healthy and normal and whole so he ignored his friend and kept his very limited energy focused on the people that were actively trying to engage him, not the person who couldn't seem to find anything to say, the person who seemed content to let ten years of friendship fade away because Peter had been gone. 
“How’s Johnny?” May would ask when she called every single night, and every single night Peter answered, “He’s fine, Auntie. He’s fine and I’m fine and we’re all-- we’re all fine.” 
And it was a lie, it was always a lie. Peter wasn’t fine and his friends weren’t fine and nothing about anything was fine. 
It was a lie, and as the days out of the hospital turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, the prescriptions got refilled and the curtains stayed drawn and Peter sank further and further into himself. He cancelled plans and turned down invitations and snapped at the girls when they came in uninvited, dodged Harry’s attempts at drawing him out and the few times that Johnny looked up and met his eyes, Peter simply looked away. 
He was tired and he couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore. 
He was tired, but May and Gwen and MJ and Harry and Johnny didn’t seem to get it, because every time the Omega cancelled plans yet again, they just made a date for later and tried again. 
Again and again and again. 
And again and again and again until Peter quit answering the door and started avoiding their calls. 
“Leave me alone.” he whispered to his phone as it rang shrill in the silent apartment, the screen over bright and noise jarring. It was Gwen or it was Mary Jane, it was May or it was Harry, it wouldn’t be Johnny but it was maybe Doctor Grey calling to check on him and the Omega couldn’t do it any more. 
“Please just leave me alone.” 
****************
“Peter, you should come for dinner tonight. I’m inviting the neighbor across the street, do you remember her? Her grandson Flash used to go to school with you and Gwen ages ago. He’s home from the military and--” 
“I’m already in bed, May.” Peter could hardly lift his head from the pillow, the sedatives running drugged and lethargic through his system. “Maybe another time.” 
“...I’m worried about you, Peter.” the Alpha whispered. “It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you, love. Have you thought any more about coming to stay with me? We could move you out of that place over a weekend and you could just come home with me.” 
“M’fine, Auntie.” 
“No you’re not.” 
“No.” the phone slipped from the Omega’s hand and clattered on the floor as he fell into thankfully dreamless sleep. “No m’not.” 
****************
“Pete?” One windy, awful day Johnny let himself into Peter’s apartment and called for the Omega. “Pete are you-- it’s Johnny. I um-- I knocked but you didn’t answer so I used my key.” 
There was no answer, and the Alpha took another step into the entry way. “Pete? Are you home?” 
“M’here.” Peter was sat on the floor in the very middle of his living room, fingers clenched into the shaggy carpet, back ram rod straight, face washed bloodless and frightened. “Johnny, I’m here.” 
“Hey hey hey.” Johnny shucked away his scarf and hurried to kneel at Peter’s side, three months of awkwardness dissolving in an instant as protect won out over uncertain in the Alpha’s core. “What’s going on? Pete? What happened, what happened?” 
He pried the Omega’s fingers out of the rug and rubbed them between his palms, blowing gently to try and warm him up. “It’s freezing in here, honey. How long have you been sitting in the cold? Is your heater working?” 
“Dunno.” Peter shook his head. “Dunno how long I’ve been here. How long have you been here? Has my door been open the entire time?” 
“...no.” Johnny cursed under his breath when he got a peek into Peter’s glazed eyes. “No, Pete. Your door’s only open cos I came through a minute ago. What happened? What is going on with you?” 
“I got in a taxi. Told him to take me to the movie theater.” It was outright eerie how Peter talked these days, as if he was reciting memorized facts, like he’d told himself the story over and over before telling anyone else. “Haven’t left the house in four days, thought it was time. We drove eight blocks, maybe nine and then a big truck changed lanes too quickly and we almost crashed.” 
“Shit, that’s scary.” the Alpha inched closer so he could rub at Peter’s shoulders too. “You’re alright though? Nobody got hurt and you made it home. Everything’s okay?” 
“I panicked.” Peter said dully. “Started screaming, pretty sure I started screaming. There was a lot of noise and I don’t usually hear much noise. Guess it was me. Must have been me, right? I must have been screaming.” 
He was unfocused, staring, and missed the way Johnny grimaced away from the monotone words. “I told the cab driver to take me home, told him to take me back and he brought me here instead so I just-- I just sat down. You came in. I’m freezing.” 
“Yeah, yeah you’re practically frozen solid.” Johnny pushed back all his questions and worry about Peter panicking, ignored the nagging feeling of unease when the Omega referred to his apartment as here instead of home, and focused instead on getting Peter warm.  “Come on, come here with me. Nice hot shower and I’ll get you some food, alright? Thai food from that place down the way you like so much. How many egg rolls do you want?” 
“I’m not hungry.” Peter was awkwardly pliant as Johnny got him to his feet and helped him down the hall, almost limp as the Alpha yanked his shirt up over his head and then his jeans down and off as well. He’d never been much of a shy Omega, not around his friends, not around the people he knew and loved and trusted, but it was awkward how Peter just stood there and let Johnny get him nearly naked without protest. “Not-- not hungry.” 
“Sure you are.” the Alpha kept his eyes on Peter’s face and forced a cheerful smile. “We’re due for a lunch date anyway, right? It’s about time I start helping out, sorry I’ve been MIA but I’m here now and we can get warm and then we’ll eat and then we can talk and then--” 
“I’m not hungry.” The Omega said again and this time he sounded exhausted. “Just tired. Cold. Will you shower with me?” 
Before everything, Johnny would have jumped at the chance to shower with the pretty Omega. Lathering shampoo into Peter’s thick hair and getting his hands to wash down that gorgeous body was the sort of thing every Alpha dreamed about, especially an Alpha that had been half in love with the Omega Peter Parker since he’d been old enough to know what love was. 
Before everything, Johnny would have made an absolute fool of himself clambering into the shower and grabbing the Omega up tight, but this was after everything and the Alpha couldn’t think about all the things he’d wanted to do with Peter someday. 
After everything, all Johnny could think about was how small Peter looked with his hair too long and curling by his ears, shaggy and stringy and falling into empty brown eyes, and how Peter’s hands shook as he reached for Johnny’s belt and the way that damn ring looked so big and out of place on the Omega’s slim fingers. 
“Peter...” he started lamely, uselessly. “Maybe I’m not the best person to--” 
“Where have you been, Johnny?” the Omega asked softly, and guilt rose bitter in the back of Johnny’s throat. “You didn’t come to the hospital, don’t have anything to say if you come around with everyone else. I don’t want to see anyone but at least at first I would’a liked to see you. Where have you been?” 
“I’m sorry.” There were a whole lot of things the Alpha should have said right then, but all he could manage was, “I’m sorry. I-- I’m here now though, Pete. If you want me to stay.” 
“I’m cold.” Came the simple answer, and In the small bathroom it was more obvious than ever how Peter didn’t scent of anything these days, not honeysuckle and lavender, not even panic and heartbreak and pain. His scent was blank like his eyes and expression were blank and Johnny felt the emptiness like a knife to the gut. 
“I can keep you warm.” the words were out in the air between them before the Alpha had even fully decided to say it. “I-- I can keep you warm, Pete.” 
The shower was barely big enough for the both of them, so Johnny held Peter tight up against his body, cuddling the Omega over his heart and wrapping his arms around the frightfully thin frame. “Such a sad Omega.” he whispered when Peter shivered and tried to curl closer. “So many bad things for such a pretty, perfect Omega to go through. M’so sorry, Pete. So sorry. C’mere love, right here, c’mere.” 
The Alpha kept up a steady litany of sweet nothings as they stood beneath the water, picking up shampoo and working it gently through the Omega’s hair, sweeping the bubbles over Peter’s skin and down his back until they swirled away down the drain. They didn’t need to talk-- or rather, they did need to talk but not right this second-- and Johnny didn’t think he could handle hearing Peter lie about being fine, so he stayed whispering quiet comfort and careful touches until the shower ran cold and it was time to get out. 
He left the Omega swathed in a thick towel and then dried himself off and jogged for his phone. An order into the Thai place Peter liked so much meant Johnny would hopefully have an easier time getting the Omega to eat and if Peter would eat then they could maybe talk and Johnny could stop feeling like he was going to lose his mind.
“Hey sweetheart.” he set his phone down when Peter came shuffling into the living room wrapped in a threadbare blanket. “Let me get you some clothes, alright? I already turned up the heat but you can’t be warm in just that blanket so I’ll get you some pajamas. Give me a sec, okay?”
“What are you doing here, Johnny?” Peter sounded more alert, though his eyes were still dull and tone flat. “I’ve only seen you a few times in the last three months, why the hell are you showing up and showering with me and calling me honey. What are you doing?” 
The Alpha swallowed uncomfortably. “I ordered some food, Pete. Why don't we eat and then we can talk?″
“Tell me why you’re here, or get the hell out.” Peter interrupted, a flash of anger in his eyes that was there and gone in less than a blink. “I’m tired. And I’m cold. And I wanna sleep. Don’t have the energy to entertain anyone today or listen to half ass apologies or-- or pity.” 
There it was again, anger extinguished almost as soon as it sparked. “Why are you here?” 
“... I’m sorry I didn’t come see you in the hospital.” Johnny began slowly, haltingly, sinking down into a chair opposite the couch and clasping his hands between his knees. “I should’ve been there. They weren’t letting any of us back to see you except Mary Jane and when I heard why they thought seeing an Alpha might-- might bother you, I couldn’t handle it. I ran. Didn’t want to be there.” 
Peter only blinked at him, and the Alpha cursed his own weakness before continuing, “Wish I could say I was strong enough to handle it like Gwen and Harry were but I kept thinking about you hurt and it made me throw up every time. Eventually I figured I’d only upset you if I came around and I didn’t want to do that. I know everyone thinks I’m an asshole for leaving you alone but--” 
Johnny spread his hands helplessly. “--I’m here now, okay? I’m here.” 
Peter didn’t reply, and Johnny nodded in weary understanding. “It’s not enough, I know. Too little, too late. But I just, I gotta say something Pete and I want you to let me get all the way through it before you reply or yell at me or throw me out, alright? Can I-- can I ask that?” 
“Ask whatever you want.” Peter burrowed back further into the blanket, playing idly with the ring loose around his finger. “Everyone sorta says what they want these days anyway. Go ahead.” 
It was permission but it was also a tiny bit bitter and the Alpha hesitated for a moment. “Um-- okay. Okay here we go. I know you and I aren’t as close as you and MJ are, and I know you’ve got more history with Harry and Gwen than with me. But I--” Johnny cleared his throat. “I love you just as much as they do. I know I’ve been gone and that’s real shitty of me, but I love you Pete, I do.” 
The Omega twitched uncomfortably, and Johnny rushed on before he lost his nerve, “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened and shit, I dunno if I could handle hearing it but I’m not stupid, Pete. You’re barely functioning, your neck is all scarred up, you don’t scent like nothing anymore and that’s all mate sickness. I know it is. The lady doctor told us you weren’t hurt the way we--” 
The Alpha’s eyes flickered red in distress, and Peter looked away. “--the way we all thought you’d been, but you were still hurt and it's killing me. I hate thinking about you sitting here alone and-- and sad and I just-- okay you know what? I’m just gonna say it.” 
Johnny dug his fingers into his legs in an attempt to ground himself, and blurted, “Pete. I want to bond with you.” 
The Omega made a horrified sort of noise that cut deep deep into Johnny’s heart but he ignored the pain and the way Peter jerked away from him as if terrified, and hurried to finish-- “I just mean a platonic bond, Omega. Nothing romantic, nothing like that. I love you and we’ve had great heats in the past so we know we are compatible at least that way and once it was over, once the mating heat passed I wouldn’t ask anything from you, Pete. Nothing. Ever. Not regular, uh, sexy things and not even your other heats if you wanted to work through them alone.” 
“Johnny.” 
“I’m not asking you to play house Omega with me.” The words tumbled out faster and faster now. “You could move in with me if you wanted cos I’ve got an extra bedroom or you could stay here or move in with May or do whatever you want. The only way to fix this, to keep you from hurting this bad is another bond and Pete, I’d platonic bond with my best friend-- with you-- in a second to save you.” 
“Johnny--!” 
“No questions asked, Pete.” the Alpha looked like he might be close to breaking down, distress forcing it’s way through his blockers and soaking his scent gray. “You don’t have to tell me anything, or give me anything or owe me anything. You tell me ‘yes’ and we’ll take care of it right now so you can move on past all this. You tell me ‘no’ and I’ll drop it right now and never say it again. I promise. Pete, I promise.” 
“No.” The thought of mating with anyone other than his Alpha made Peter’s heart wrench in two. “Johnny, no. I-- I can’t. I can’t.”
Silence in the room, and for a long minute the Omega thought Johnny would get angry and demand an explanation, for a longer minute he thought the Alpha might actually cry, but Johnny didn’t do either of those things. 
The Alpha only looked away to gather himself, and then cleared his throat, “Okay. The offer is here if you want it, alright? Any time. I love you, Pete.” 
“I love you too.” Barely even a whisper, and Peter tried to smile but it was awful and not enough to fill the void that had so suddenly ripped open between the two friends. “Johnny, I love you. And you’re a good Alpha. But I can’t. I can’t.”
“Okay.” Johnny said again, and got to his feet. “Okay that’s-- I um, I ordered food, alright? It’s already paid for and all you’ll have to do is sign for it. I’m gonna go before I mess things up anymore, so I’ll see you around, yeah? Next time Harry comes or maybe when MJ shows up or maybe when Gwen convinces us all to do something stupid like roller skate or--”
“I’m already bonded, Johnny!” Peter wasn’t really sure why he went ahead and nearly shouted it, but the truth was there now and Johnny froze mid step, expression washing with disbelief. “And it’s not-- it’s not a trauma bond okay? I wasn’t scared or searching for stability after something terrible, I wasn’t coerced into anything, I’m bonded. Mated. And that’s why I can’t-- I can’t with you. I can’t do it.” 
“What do you mean it wasn’t a trauma bond?” Johnny didn’t sit back down quite yet, but he didn’t reach for his scarf and coat either. “What else could it be, Pete? I don’t-- I don’t understand.”
“Everyone thinks my Alpha hurt me.” Fury, snapping in Peter’s eyes for a split second. “They keep saying things like forced and Stockholm Syndrome as if my Alpha is capable of doing anything besides taking care of me and loving me and keeping me safe. All my mate ever did was try to keep me safe and I wanted to rip the doctor’s throats out for talking about my Alpha like he was some sort of a monster.” 
“...your mate.” This time the Alpha did sit down, eyes wide and wondering. “Pete, are you telling me that while you were gone you found your mate?” 
“We scent matched.” It felt so good to tell the truth, so good to finally talk and the admission ran honey warm through Peter’s veins. “My suppressants bled out for some reason--” time travel. “--and I knew him more certainly than I’d ever known anyone or anything before in my life.” 
“You scent matched.” Johnny repeated. “I didn’t know that was a real thing anymore.” 
“I didn’t either.” the Omega whispered. “But we are soulmates, me and my Alpha. Scent matched and bonded and my mark--” he touched the scars reverently. “I wasn’t with him long enough to have a mating heat but that doesn’t change that we’re bonded. Meant to be together. I’m his and he is--”
It felt like a prayer, like a confession, something sacred and beautiful and meant to be hushed, so Peter lowered his voice even more, “-- he is mine. I’m his and he is mine and it’s so much more than those words, I can’t explain it, Johnny. I can’t explain it.” 
“The ring--” 
“His. He made it for me.” 
“But how did you end up in the hospital? Why were you unconscious for so long? If this was soulmates and true love then where is your Alpha?” Johnny didn’t mean to sound upset, truth be told he was relieved through to his very core that Peter could tell him it was love and not trauma, but he was upset all the same. “Where is your Alpha and why is he letting you suffer like this? It’s been months, Pete! Where is he!” 
“...I don’t know how to find him.” And just like that, the smile was gone from Peter’s face, the warmth leeching from his body and leaving him shaking, shivering, eyes gone flat and dull again. “We are mates but somehow we aren't meant to be together so we-- we aren’t. We can’t be together so I’m here and he’s-- he’s out there.” 
“Oh, Pete.” 
“I’m here and my mate is somewhere out there.” Peter said again, motioning listlessly to the air. “And I don’t know how to find my way back to him. I miss him, Johnny. Every single day. Every single minute. I didn’t know I could grieve like this and still survive, but here I am anyway, whether I want to be or not. Grieving and surviving even if I don’t want to be.” 
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” 
“This is the first time I’e been able to say it out loud without breaking down.” the Omega dug his fingers into his hair and tugged at the damp strands. “I dunno if that means I’m healing or-- or if I’m finally numb enough that it doesn’t hurt so bad. Dunno which would be better.” 
“Such a sad Omega.” Offer to bond swept aside, misgivings and worry and guilt over his own shortcomings as a friend pushed away, Johnny moved to sit next to the Omega, gathered Peter’s thin frame up into his arms and hugged him close. “Oh such a sad Omega, so so sorry honey. So sorry. Sweet pretty thing, so much sad for such a perfect Omega--” 
Peter tried to laugh hearing the Alpha talk that way, but it caught over a sob and turned right into tears and Johnny only held him tighter, crooning into his ear and rumbling quiet comfort into his skin for a long long time.
It wasn’t all the way the truth, Peter had said nothing about time travel and one hundred and four days and mutants, but he could say something about his mate and it felt like maybe the steel bands at his chest loosened enough to let the him breathe a tiny bit.
And later after the food had come and Peter had managed a few bites, the Omega looked up and asked, “You would have platonic bonded with me to save me?” 
“In a heartbeat.” Johnny broke an egg roll in half and handed half to Peter. “Still would if you really wanted me to.” 
“But you’d be stuck with me.” Peter pointed out. “Couldn’t get a real mate or move on with your life and get married.  Even if you wanted to keep hooking up with random people, they’d see the silver mark on your neck and know you’re bonded. No one sleeps with someone who is bonded, you wouldn’t even be able to date anymore.”
“There’s worse things out there than to be bonded to my best friend, Pete.” Johnny leaned over and lay a very sweet, very chaste kiss on the Omega’s lips. “You want me to stay the night tonight? We could watch bad shark movies and if you feel up to it, you could tell me more about your mate.” 
“I could handle a bad shark movie.” Peter decided and the, ‘I can’t handle talking more about my mate’ went unspoken between them. “Thank you, Johnny. You’re-- you’re a good Alpha.”
“We’ll figure this out, Pete.” the Alpha tried hard to keep the worry from his tone and from his scent as he offered Peter another bite of rice. “I promise, okay? We’ll figure it out.” 
***************
***************
It was easier after talking with Johnny. 
Or maybe not easier, because nothing was easier and everything was still miserable but it was… it was less after talking with Johnny. Being able to say that he was mated, that he was bonded and in love with his Alpha was a relief and some days Peter felt like maybe he was edging towards coping. 
Out of all his friends, Johnny would be the one not to ask questions, the one to simply accept what he was told and move on from it. Peter didn’t have to try and justify how he’d fallen in love in what everyone thought was two weeks, he didn’t have to explain the nightmares or why it was taking so long to recover. Johnny was relieved just to know and in the days following the Alpha’s platonic proposal, Peter found himself hiding a little less, withdrawing a little less, being numb just a little less now that he knew someone had at least a piece of the truth. 
So one day when Mary Jane stopped by with arms full of groceries and that patented, beautiful smile that promised everything would be okay, Peter actually opened the door before she had to use her key and when the pretty Omega quietly suggested they all go out for dinner to celebrate Gwen’s recent promotion, Peter actually agreed. 
“Really?” Mary Jane’s green eyes widened in delight. “Pete! She’ll be so happy, oh my gosh! Everyone’s going and we’ll have so much fun, it will be just like old times!” 
Nothing would ever be just like old times and MJ didn’t mean anything by it of course, so Peter swallowed back the urge to flinch and run and pasted a focused, cheerful smile on his face as she badgered him into the shower to get clean and fussed through combing his hair back out of his eyes and exclaimed loudly over the state of his clothing before finally settling on something that hung at least somewhat flattering on Peter’s still too thin frame. 
It was almost worth the mild panic attack over being out in public to see the way Harry grinned at him and to hear the excited whoop as Gwen flung herself into Peter’s arms and tried to squeeze the life from him. The Alpha was gorgeous tonight, dressed up and glammed out with hair done and jewelry sparkling and smile lit to mega watt as she screeched in excitement about her new job and all the perks and the uptick in her bank account and how happy she was to be celebrating with all her friends.
“Alright?” Johnny pressed close for a long hug and murmured into Peter’s ear, crooning comfortingly when Peter clung a little too tight. “Hard to be out with everyone?” 
“Dunno the last time we did this.” Peter’s smile was practiced and forced, his tone purposefully cheerfully and eyes wide to combat the exhaustion sinking in around his nerves. He’d forgone the usual several sleep aids today so he’d be awake and present for Gwen’s big night but after so long dependent on the pills he still felt slow, lethargic, as if the entire world was moving just a half step too fast and he couldn’t quite keep up. 
“You need to leave, you let me know.” the Alpha murmured and Peter nodded gratefully before pulling away. 
The evening wasn’t all bad. Someone popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and Peter nearly cracked his glass when he jumped, applause and the Happy Birthday chorus from further back in the restaurant abruptly brought to mind the fact that Peter didn’t even know his Alphas birthday and he had to clear his throat several times to get rid of the sorrow that clouded up behind his eyes. 
The evening wasn’t all bad, he managed to laugh a few times over Gwen’s hilarity and the champagne ticked not unpleasantly and what little Peter ate tasted expensive going down. 
The evening wasn’t all bad.
The worst moment came as Harry finished giving Gwen a toast, glasses raised and smiles bright as he congratulated their friend on her promotion, promised to definitely take advantage of the discounts she was going to get as senior staff and teased the other Alpha about finally moving out of her tiny apartment and into a real place like a real adult-- 
---the worst moment came just then, when Peter was struggling to stay focused amid all the noise and all the chatter, anxiety doubling up beneath his chest and making it hard to focus, his head swimming with all the sensory input after months of self imposed isolation and drug dulled hours--
--the worst moment came as the Alpha at the table next to them got to his knees and opened a ring box with a flourish, showing off a diamond glinting beneath the festive lights as he professed his love for his Omega in deep tones and flowery phrases, promising to love her forever, promising to cherish her forever, promising infinity if she would be his. 
And that was the very worst moment, as the suppressants and blockers bled from Peter’s system abruptly to make way for soul deep grief that burst sour and spoiled into the air, lavender and honeysuckle tinging bright for just a second before it drowned beneath the weighted black of sheer despair and Johnny turned to his side and vomited onto the floor as the scent of hopelessness and fear rolled from the Omega and poisoned the atmosphere in the room.
Gwen gagged and Harry had to turn away as desperate Omega clogged their senses and and fogged their mind and Mary Jane reached out for Peter with a frightened cry but the Omega was already on his feet and running away, stumbling over his feet and knocking into tables and he tried to get outside and away. 
The cabbie had seen his fair share of compromised passengers, but tonight he thanked his lucky stars he was a Beta and only partly susceptible to the misery hanging around the half coherent Omega in his back seat. The scent was still potent enough to make him nauseous though, and when they finally made it to the apartment building and the distraught Omega stumbled out, the Beta turned his sign off for a few minutes and lurched from the cab so he could try and breathe again. 
The bottle of sleeping pills rattled in Peter’s hands as he tried to open it, the cap tearing off and medication scattering everywhere alongside the pain pills he’d tried to open just a minute before and Peter stared at the mess in horror for a full minute before another wave of sickness hit him hard and he went down to his knees, pushing his forehead into the floor and screaming. 
Across town, May grabbed for her phone when it rang with Peter’s number, ignoring the missed calls from Harry, from Gwen, from Johnny and Mary Jane so she could ask, “Peter? Sweetheart are you alright? What’s going on? What’s going on?!” 
“I miss my mate.” Peter was sobbing, choking, the words muffled because he couldn’t manage to lift his head long enough to talk clearly. “Auntie, I miss my mate. I miss my Alpha. I want to go home. I want to go home.” 
And May slid down the wall to sit on the floor, phone pressed close to her ear and hand over her eyes as she cried right along with her nephew. 
I want to go home. 
Oh sweetheart, I know. I know. 
I’m so so sorry. 
So so sorry.
******************
SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER
Hey! We broke 160k with this chapter which makes MTW officially my second longest single fic after PH! And we aren’t done yet! Holla!
Also, for anyone who wants to know, there is a very specific reason why we are only seeing Peter’s side of the story right now, but once we start seeing Wade’s side of the story, it will all make sense!
******************
@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @ricecakeandhoney @ardatlily @fawnandgays @bluedreamdino @bibbarnes @blackstar1602 @hi-inevitable-im-deadpool @scientifically-lesbian-jesus @the-pagely-gun-slinger @oshuncheyenne @the-dragonwolf-den @pumpkin-spidey @sozvuchiy @cappunico @tired-dragons01 @chiby-chan @ahumoki0 @kanizsacollage @tulipsnbigcats @hiddenaurora @notchronicle24 @marvels-gurl @iridescent-idiot @badndbourgeoisie @eversomniator @local1dreamer @loveisblindwade  @ssssssssssssssssssssslytherin @theunwantedomega
122 notes · View notes
lgcjungah · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
hiii, everyone!! i’d like to introduce to you choi jungah, a twenty-two year old aspiring entertainer from busan who has ... way too many layers to her personality. will get more in depth about it underneath the cut, or you can read up about her right here ( still wip,,, ). please give this post a like if i can slide into your ims for plotting! twitter or discord are also available. looking forward to writing with you andddd necessary info on jungah + plot ideas ( until i set up a proper plot page ) can be found under the read more cut!
a bit about her bio
she’s from busan, younger twin by 2 minutes to @lgcxjongsuk​.
grew up being dotted on by her older brother and was very close to her mother. never had a good bond with her father, however  (because he was stricter and she didn’t like his attitude. even less when she discovered he initially got with her mother for the sake of the mom’s fame).
[ TW BULLYING MENTION !! ] as a child she was nowhere near as outgoing and bubbly as she is today. rather withdrawn and shy, easily overlooked at school or bullied for preferring to stick to herself. she saw her mother as her only female friend and her twin brother as the only best friend in her life.  [ END TW BULLYING MENTION !! ]
[ TW DEATH MENTION !! ] at age 12, the twins lost their mother due to illness. their father took up on a better paid job in seoul and they moved to the capital.  [ END TW DEATH MENTION !! ]
adjusting wasn’t easy. the people in seoul appeared even more uptight and strict than back home in busan and jungah always left like the odd one out with her accent. life really didn’t seem to be too blooming for the girl.
until jongsuk signed her up for a national talent show that was broadcasted on tv. jungah managed to score first place, won the prize money and suddenly gained the affection and fondness of those around her. her classmates took interest in who she was, made attempts to befriend the new transfer. this was ... a brand new experience, but nothing jungah actually seemed to mind. suspicious about their motives at first, the girl soon grew to love the attention she got. she’s never had that before, after all.
throughout the end of middle school and all of her high school time, her personality underwent a huge change. once shut in, preferring books over human company, she did her best to appeal to her peers and stay the focus of attention, the girl they all adored and liked. she was coddled by her twin, still berated by her father, but life was great.
it became even greater when she took the chance of an audition after being dragged there by her classmates. a part of her knew that, mayhaps, all of these people claiming to root for her were only awaiting to see her fail and not get accepted. but much to their dismay, and jungah’s happiness, she passed and signed under legacy on january 2018.
her goal is to become an entertainer and she doesn’t stop at anything to achieve it.
personality !! most of it is covered on her about page, but here’s a summary
she’s ... really something. has multiple masks she wears daily, depending on each situation and company she’s in
 they’re not bad, and never mean. maybe not very genuine at times, but she does whatever it takes to be liked by literally everyone around her. she’s very attentive, borderline cunning, notices little details about people and uses them to her advantage to make herself look nice and friendly.
your muse likes anime and mentions it briefly? next thing you know you have jungah approach them about having an anime marathon together when time allows for it to.
she is friendly, outgoing, helpful, can be pretty flirty, likes to talk a lot and likes to make jokes. she appears as the bubbly girl, everybody’s darling, but really? she has no idea what or who she actually is.
the deeper thinking surfaces when she’s mostly alone or in the company of someone she really trusts.
that’s not to say she’s always an angel. she has outbursts of pouting or sulking when something doesn’t go her way, and can display “diva” behavior, namely when she’s required to pay something and simply finds ways to make everyone else pay for her.
honestly, she just wants to succeed and make her dream of being an entertainer come true. she doesn’t react well to the past, especially the death of her mother or the way she used to be as a child. pro tip: just don’t mention these things around her, ever.
plot ideas !! these can be fleshed out more 
people/friends/acquaintances from busan who knew her back when she was still very much an introvert. totally different from the way she is now. maybe they kept in contact, or reunited at lgc after years and the chance has been shocking
a penpal friend she’s had since she was a teen, and you two realize now, years later, that you are attending the same company.
ex-boyfriend/girlfriend, she had two relationships. how they ended can be discussed in detail! must be around her age and no younger than 99er.
best friends. whether it’s genuine friendship or not can be plotted out, but basically the people whom she feels most comfortable with, or whom she has no problem sharing her quiet, thoughtful moments. moments in which she’s not that bubbly girl trying to make everyone happy. 
anything antagonistic. she’s loud and she makes herself present no matter where she is. your muse happens to not like this kind of behavior at all, maybe even questions whether or not her personality is actually real or if she’s just setting this up for attention and fondness. i’d love to see her being called out on it tbh
fellow anime lovers. she’s a huuuuuuge anime geek and it’d be great if she had someone to be geeky with together, be it by flailing over ships or bonding by binge watching stuff, anything is possible!
someone she tutors in english. she’s never been the best in p.e. but languages? she loves them. she’s been self-teaching herself english aside of the mandatory english classes in school and has reached a pretty advanced level. your muse needs help and she gladly provides them with just that. of course she demands something in return - icecream, maybe? <:
hookups. sef-explanatory. though this is limited to two muses. 
i’m pretty sure i’ll come up with more but !! 
8 notes · View notes