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#when it's charity work people are likely to try it out for the sake of it
1yyyyyy1 · 6 months
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I'm not wasting my time prying something from a person's hands with them kicking and screaming "I like this! I want to do this!" when there's people lining up to tell me how much they hate the thing and how much they want to get away from it. "Expend your effort on people who may or may not dislike this thing I think is harmful to them" is code name for "retract your effort from those who are explicitly asking for help". Still waiting for someone to explain to me how that's a noble thing to do.
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thelibrarian1895 · 4 days
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If your sibling is a rogue then make the best of it
I would like to think that Jason is very Hondo Onakha about kidnapping, very dramatic, fairly polite/chill to the one he kidnapped, minimal trauma, very professional overall but also very theatrical. Out of anyone in Gotham to have as your kidnapper, Jason aka the Red Hood is by far the very best person.
ALL of Jason's family whether they be legal, biological, emotional, or honorary, will absolutely try to convince Jason to kidnap them to get them out of some stupid civilian event. Whether or not Jason will go along with it will depend on several factors such as:
Does this benefit Bruce and get him out of a boring civilian event too? Then so sorry, you're just going to have to suffer!
How busy is Jason at the moment? Because being a drug lord and vigilante is actually pretty time consuming and kidnapping can be a lot of work for potentially very little gain.
What does Jason get out of it? Yes money is all well and good but Jason is rich by his own merits and can just steal from Bruce whenever, there's got to be more to it!
When is the last time Jason has kidnapped this sibling? He can't do it too often or it gets less effective. He has a reputation to maintain after all!
It may also depend on which sib is asking and what they need to be "saved" from.
Dick asks to be kidnapped from a bachelor auction charity? Ha! No chance, sorry Dickie! He will be there though and take pictures and laugh. (And also join all the other siblings who are stalking Dick and the winner of the auction in the event the winner wasn't one of the Bats or an invited member of the JL or Titans using Bruce's money) Dick asking to be kidnapped from a gala or some opening night of trendy place he's at to maintain civilian status? Maybe but the bribe has to be considerable. And it cannot benefit Bruce. Dick's normal bribes consist of taking some tedious part of an investigation over for Jason or getting intel from JL databases for Jason and the Outlaws.
Cass? Anytime and always, favorite sister who can beat him up has special kidnapping privileges, though they did stop for a very long time when some weirdos put out the theory that the Red Hood was in love with Gotham's Princess. (idk if Cass is considered Gotham's Princess in any version of canon but she is to me) Cass does still repay Jason in the form of Black Bat keeping an eye on Jason's territory when he's out of Gotham for any significant length of time.
Tim? He does owe the kid for several incidents and Tim normally doesn't abusive the privilege so he'd probably do it but there does have to be some sort of bribe for appearances sake. Tim usually gets Jason to agree in exchange for pictures of Batman tripping over his cape or in some other ridiculous position. Bonus in Jason's mind if Tim requests a kidnapping when Bruce is off world or otherwise occupied, therefore giving Brucie Wayne's reputation a hit. However if Tim wants to be kidnapped from something where Bruce is also suffering as Brucie, Tim is SOL (Tim might get revenge by getting Kon to wear Red Hood gear and "kidnap" Tim from the event if Jason refused. Kon will do it because Tim asked and also I would like to think that Kon isn't too fond of the guy who beat his best friend/boyfriend nearly to death and will mess with him if given the chance) Since kidnapping normally interferes with things that Tim wants to do however, he may instead bribe Jason to not kidnap a sibling that has asked to be kidnapped. Jason usually obliges this no kidnapping request.
Barbara? Sorry, no, he doesn't want to stress the Commissioner like that. He will, however, kidnap other people for her if she asks.
Stephanie? No Stephanie, he doesn't care what you offer, he's not kidnapping you so you can avoid your finals! Stephanie has, however, worn various wigs and been various hostages who died at the hands of the Hood in order to maintain his reputation. She gets paid in baked goods for her service.
Damian? Damian considered the idea ridiculous and proclaimed he'd never stoop so low and he would carry out his duties no matter how onerous! Damian then had to go to a Gotham gala. Damian is trying very hard to figure out a suitable bribe to get the Red Hood to kidnap him often enough that Bruce will be forced to keep Damian away from galas because of the ongoing security threat. So far it hasn't worked because Damian is very bad at bribing Jason, Jason thinks Damian forced to interact with normal people is funny, and Tim is successfully bribing Jason to ignore Damian's bribery attempts. The Red Hood has "kidnapped" Damian once, as a treat, when he thought the kid was looking particularly down about something.
Duke? Duke has yet to be made to attend any society gatherings as the solo Wayne (normally that falls to Bruce, Dick, or Tim) and can usually be spotted hanging out with Cass by the snack table at any gala or trendy event. He's not at Cass's level of reading body language but he's pretty darn good and he and Cass have reached a new level of being able to avoid annoying rich people while at parties. Duke is Cass's favorite gala buddy. Duke hasn't felt the need to ask Jason to kidnap him yet but Jason will allow the first one to be free of charge, no questions asked. After that Duke hasn't figured out suitable bribes for Jason but has realized that all of his siblings are hyper competitive and that Jason would absolutely wager a kidnapping in a competition or for a bet.
Alfred? If Alfred asked then Jason would without any caveat. Alfred will not ask however but might ask on behalf of someone else and Jason will comply.
Bruce? Jason just laughs. And if someone else is planning on kidnapping Brucie Wayne from a particularly boring business meeting or gala? Jason will actively thwart the kidnapping to force Bruce to continue to deal with social activity.
Jason usually splits a portion of the ransom money into bonuses for his goons since their original job outline is drug dealer/enforcer/mobster and not kidnapper. If they're going to get major felonies on their records, better make it financially worth it. All of Jason's goons are masked during any kidnapping event. The rest of the ransom money goes towards a charity of Jason's choosing.
Jason has also kidnapped people who are not his family or family adjacent. Barbara thought her dad could use a vacation at one point but he didn't have the PTO for it so Barbara had the Red Hood kidnap him. James Gordon experienced the weirdest kidnapping of his life that included some of the best food he'd ever eaten, an extremely soft bed, his pile of books that were on his reading list, and access to the sports games he'd meant to watch. The ransom was successfully paid after he had a week to relax. Gordon was then, as per protocol, allowed time to relax after his "harrowing" event. Barbara forced him to take the time. Strangely enough, some politicians who had been giving the Commissioner a hard time were suddenly very quiet when James Gordon came back, well rested, well fed, and ready to get back to the grind. It, of course, had nothing to do with the very polite emails with pictures attached that they all received while the Commissioner was very publicly out of the way.
Oliver Queen, when he was visiting Gotham, was kidnapped by the Red Hood. He was released after the ransom was paid and specifically he was released back in Star City. Mr. Queen was unavailable for comment after the incident but some sources say that he was cursing bats for some reason.
Lois Lane found herself kidnapped by Red Hood and ransomed by the Daily Planet while Superman was off world. Lois Lane returned safely to Metropolis and published a shocking expose on Luthor's latest scheme. Her sources for the article remain a secret.
Bruce is very grumpy about the whole thing, not just because Jason won't help his poor father get out of the stupid social event, but also because Jason being technically a rogue like this makes it very hard for him to successfully argue that Jason should let himself regain legal living status.
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kibblz-n-bitz · 6 months
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Putting On A Show
Summary: After liberating a country, you and Luffy have some "fun" in front of an audience.
8k words
Tags: Exhibitionism (obviously), multiple orgasms, squirting, a hint of humiliation, creampie, oral sex, penetrative sex, biting
I've worked so hard on this fic! I hope y'all enjoy (I know I did😉)
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Laughter and joy filled the air. You let out a relieved sigh, turning to your captain sitting at the head of the table. Bandages littered his skin, reminders of their most recent battle. Despite them, he was laughing and clapping along to the music Brook was playing. 
It was a fierce battle on some random island you and your crew had managed to stumble upon. Some powerful pirate had taken over the land, and the people on it lived in fear. It was only a matter of time before your captain decided to defeat the other pirate, just because someone had shown him charity (All it took was a little girl giving him a sandwich). The strawhats were all exhausted from the battle, but ready to relax with a banquet held in their name. You smiled to yourself as you looked around at your crewmates. 
The king of the island approached your table. You were giggling and chatting with Nami about stealing when he cleared his throat, announcing his presence to the distracted pirates. 
“I cannot express my gratitude enough,” He began, “I never would have thought that pirates would be the ones to liberate my country as they were also the ones to enslave it. Please, help yourself to as much food and drink as you’d like. There’s plenty to go around.”
“We will.” Zoro and Luffy said in unison.
“There is another matter I would like to discuss with your captain.” He cleared his throat once more, trying to get the attention of Luffy, who had his mouth stuffed with food in a matter of seconds. “Walk with me, if you will.”
“Can I take this with me?” Luffy picked up the biggest bowl of meat he could find. The king chuckled with a “but of course.”
The king left with your captain and his food in tow, and the strawhats went back to their own plates.
“What do you think that was all about? Seemed kinda serious.” Usopp noted as he brought some noodles into his mouth.
“Maybe he’s giving us some treasure as a gift!” Nami squealed, her eyes practically turning into Beri signs.
“Or perhaps he’s lured our captain away so he could kill him while nobody was around.” Robin said. Usopp shouted “that’s not funny!” as Chopper and Nami stared at her with a shocked expression.
“Gimme a break. You think that old bastard could take out our captain?” Zoro huffed as he took a swig of his drink. His cheeks were a bit flushed, as he was well onto his 18th cup of sake. “He’s probably just thanking Luffy or somethin’. Nothing our captain can’t handle.”
You leaned back in your chair. Despite everyone’s dismissive behavior, you really were curious as to what the two were discussing. Like Usopp pointed out, the king looked rather serious. But Zoro was right, if he was a threat then Luffy could definitely handle it. Your captain was reliable like that, and it was one of the many qualities you loved him for.
Your relationship with your captain was relatively new. You had joined the strawhat pirate crew after they had reunited in Sabaody. It was a funny coincidence, actually. At that time, you had heard many stories about Strawhat Luffy and his wild behavior. Of course, most of your information came from news articles, so naturally he was painted as a violent criminal, untamed and extremely dangerous (As if his bounty wasn’t intimidating enough). But, the first time you had ever laid eyes on him, he was running around with some big ass backpack on, and a mustache- a poor excuse for a disguise. The marines were around and he looked frantic, unintentionally drawing more and more attention to himself.
You rolled your eyes. Was this really the guy who declared war against the world government? The same guy who fought at Marineford? Really? You decided to take pity on the poor boy as he ran around the archipelago like a chicken without its head. When he ran past you, you quickly grabbed the bag he had on his back and used its weight to shove him into a nearby alley. Surprisingly, the alley was wide enough that the bag fit. 
“What the hell are you doing?” You whisper-yelled. Luffy shook his head, as if he just now realized he was in an alley with you and not out in the open anymore.
“I’m looking for my crew. There’s too many marines out there. Stupid marines.” He huffed, crossing his arms. You fought the urge to laugh. He looked a little ridiculous with his disguise. 
“You’re Monkey D. Luffy, right?” 
“Yep. That’s me!” He grinned, before pausing and slapping his hands over his mouth. “I-I mean… Whoooo’re you talking about? I dunno that guy. He sounds kinda cool though.”
You laughed. He was such a terrible liar. It was almost… cute. The way he pursed his lips and refused to make eye contact as he pretended as if he didn’t blow his own cover a few seconds before.
“Don’t worry Luffy. I’m not gonna sell you out.” You snickered.
“Then why did ya help me?” He asked with a tilt of his head. You hummed to yourself, thinking. You weren’t entirely sure yourself. You just felt the need to help him when he was lost.
“I don’t know. I just figured you could use it. Your disguise is pretty shitty by the way,” You said as you stretched, considering your next words carefully. “I can… help you find your crew, if you’d like.”
The boy lit up. He jumped forward and grabbed your shoulders, his eyes shining like stars. You briefly regretted your decision, wondering if you’d made a mistake.
“REALLY? That would be great!!!! Thank you!” He practically shouted. You slapped a hand over his mouth as you noticed an officer nearby turn his head in your direction. There was no way in hell this boy could get around the archipelago by himself and not get caught.
“Could you at least try to be quiet? I’m doing you a favor here.” You chastised him and sighed, once again doubting your decision. “Do you know where you’re supposed to be meeting them?”
Luffy nodded and told you the grove he needed to be at. You weren’t too far away, but the minute you got closer to their ship Luffy took off, grabbing your hand and dragging you in the process. So much for leading him there, you grumbled to yourself in your head.
Once Luffy saw the Sunny he immediately catapulted himself towards it, taking you along with him. You didn’t expect him to take you with him. In fact, you weren’t even sure if Luffy was aware that he’d brought you along with him, because he never looked back once the Sunny came into view. You watched as his crew cried out and hugged him, feeling a bit out of place. You inched to the side of the ship, looking for a place to get off and back onto the ground. 
“Luffy, who is that?” a voice called attention to you. You blushed and pushed yourself to the rails, nervous under the infamous pirates gazes. This is it, you panicked internally, they’re gonna think I’m an intruder and try to kill me. Images of news stories warning of crew members like the hunter Roronoa Zoro and Nico Robin flooded your mind, and you swallowed. Your mouth was dry.
“That’s my friend! She’s the one who helped me get here actually.” Luffy chirped, running to stand next to you. The boy snickered, “If it weren’t for her, I would’ve been caught by the marines!”
“Okay, what’s her name?” Zoro asked, arms crossed and heads tossed to the side. God, he was fucking scary. Sporting a scarred eye and bulging muscles.
“It’s… uh...” Luffy trailed off, hand to his chin. He turned to you. “What’s ya name again?”
“STOP BRINGING RANDOM PEOPLE YOU DON’T KNOW THE NAMES OF ONTO THE SHIP!” Nami barked as she conked her captain on the head.
“It’s… Y/N. I didn’t know that I’d be meeting you all here, I just saw Luffy and it seemed like he needed my help, so…” You trailed off, unsure of yourself. You cursed yourself mentally. I’m making myself sound like a wet napkin, you groaned mentally. 
“Y/N!!! Welcome to my crew!” Luffy laughed and slapped a hand onto your back. You choked on your spit. What the fuck did he just say?
“LUFFY!” The entire group shouted in unison.
“Whaat? It’s no big deal. She’s really strong!” That much was true. You spent your days as an assassin and that required a lot of training. Luffy huffed and crossed his arms. “And anyways, I’m the captain and I want her on my crew!”
“Luffy, did you even ask her if she wants to join? She looks uncomfortable.” Nami let out a frustrated sigh, bringing a hand to her temples. “I have to apologize for my captain Y/N. He can be a selfish, reckless idiot most of the time. Would you like to join us?” 
You smiled. Of course he was. But the more time you spent with him, the more you felt drawn to him. He had some sort of boyish charm, wild and carefree. He inspired you, and you felt disappointed at the thought of leaving him and going back to your boring, repetitive life.
You looked at Luffy and met his gaze. He grinned at you. Maybe joining him was a good idea. Was it crazy to want adventure in your life? You weren’t sure, but you wanted to find out. Turning back to Nami, you nodded with a surge of confidence.
Smiling to yourself, you remembered your days with Luffy. You were both drawn to each other, and the crew noticed immediately. It didn’t take long for you to warm up to the crew either. They all loved you the way you loved them. And it didn’t hurt that you were quite attractive. Curvy and soft, you loved the way you looked and it was safe to say that others did too.
You were lost in thought when Luffy roamed back to the table, without the bowl. He had a weird look on his face, like he was thinking really hard about something. That was definitely a first for Luffy.
“Something the matter, buddy?” Franky asked. “What’d that old geezer want with ya anyway?”
“He told me somethin’ about me and Y/N,” He said as he scooped food onto a brand new plate. No clue where he even got it from. Your brow raised. “He said somethin’ ‘bout a tradition ceremony or somethin’. Has to do with me and her. He said there was free food! And treasure after the event ceremony thing!”
Nami squealed, fist bumping the air. You were still confused. “What event, Luffy? And what do we have to do with it?”
“Somfin abou a…” Luffy swallowed the food in his mouth he was trying to speak around. “Constipation… in front of an audience I think? He said it’s s’posed to be really fun for us though.”
Your face scrunched, you were even more confused than before. The rest of the crew looked at each other, equally as confused. They knew their captain gravely misunderstood something important the king had said, and it was up to them to decipher what he meant. They sat in silence for a minute before the king once again approached the table.
“Before those pirates had taken over our village, we had a tradition during banquets like these. A couple chosen for the night would feast, consummate in front of an audience, and be rewarded with riches and good fortune afterward.”
In a matter of seconds, Sanji spit the wine he was taking a sip of onto Zoro. You choked on your own saliva and, at the same time as Nami, cried out “WHAT?” Usopp flushed and Robin did as well, she brought a hand to her mouth with an almost scandalized gasp. Luffy looked around, confused. 
“Huh? What? What does that mean?” Luffy asked with a tilt to his head.
“Forget it! They’re not gonna do some weird sex show for you damn perverts!” Nami yelled, pointing at the king. His expression remained the same- a kind, seemingly warm smile.
“Oh it is certainly more than that. It is an act our ancestors have honored for a very long time. It is to honor the couple, to bring them good fortune. We see it as a tribute of sorts.” He tried to explain.
“Waow! Didn’t know this island was full of perverts.” Franky chuckled with approval.
“Well, it’s kinda too late to say no now, ‘cause I already agreed to it.” Luffy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth. Your mouth went dry as another wave of shock passed over the group.
“YOU IDIOT!” Nami hollered at her captain. “Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself? Think about Y/N! What if she doesn’t want to do this?”
Luffy blinked, then turned to you. He hadn’t thought about that. Luffy didn’t really care whether or not people saw the two of you together. The captain lived without an ounce of shame in his body, so the prospect of food, sex with you, and treasure sounded like a really good idea. But the way you were staring down at the table told him you didn’t think so.
You were silent for a minute as the crew argued with each other. Looking up at the king, you asked, “How much treasure?”
The crew went silent as they waited for the king’s response.
“We have lots of gold and riches left from the old pirates.” The king stroked his beard in thought. “And since you’ve helped our kingdom, we are willing to give you half.”
Nami’s jaw dropped. She whipped her head to you, and you felt you knew what she was going to say. But instead, she sighed.
“Y/N… you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She reminded you as she placed her hands on your shoulders. The navigator sat back down in her seat beside you as you stared at your plate once again, thinking. You could feel the crews’ eyes on you, waiting for your decision. 
You mentally weighed the pros and cons of actually going through with this. On one hand, you were a little embarrassed at the thought of showing such an intimate part of yourself to a bunch of strangers. But on the other, more convincing hand, there was a really big reward at the end. It’s not like you were going to see these people again anyways. Was an hour or two of getting plowed by your boyfriend in front of a crowd worth it for millions or beris worth of treasure? 
Yes, you decided, it was.
“I’ll do it.” You turned to the king. He nodded with the same smile on his face as before. 
“Very well. I will make preparations at once. Our servants will fetch you when the time is right.” With that, the king had left the room.
An awkward silence momentarily fell over the group. Usopp and Sanji stared at you with mouths wide, in shock. Nami was also surprised, if the look on her face said anything about it.
“Didn’t take you for a pervert either, Y/N!” Franky said with a chuckle.
“Y/N… are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t want to… we’d all understand if you called this off.” Nami reached over to grab your hand, concern etched onto her face. “Don’t do this just for us.”
“Trust me, I’m not.” You reassured Nami and held her hand. “And I’m not a pervert either, Franky. I just figured that if Luffy doesn’t care, then why should I? It’s not like we’ll be visiting this island again. And besides- we’re pirates! I’d be damned if I’m letting all that treasure go to waste.”
“Well, if you say so. Just don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Usopp shrugged, his face a little flushed.
“Hm? What do you mean, Usopp?” You placed your chin on your hand and leaned forward a bit, a shit-eating grin crawling onto your face. You narrowed your eyes at him across the table. “You wanna watch?”
You laughed when he screamed, a flush blooming onto his face. He sputtered and the others joked around, falling back into their casual banter. You watched them resume their old conversation when you felt a hand lace through yours. You smiled, knowing it was Luffy. He was physically affectionate, and loved holding your hand whenever he could.
“‘M sorry I didn’t ask ya first.” Luffy said as he finished off his 4th plate. That boy could eat. 
“It’s okay. Besides, this should be fun, right?” You nudged him with your shoulder, giggling at his wide grin. He nodded eagerly.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
You stared at yourself in the mirror, hands clammy and body cold. You were nervous, now that ceremony was moments away. 
Earlier, two maids came to collect you from where you were sitting with your crew. There was a small preparation ritual you needed to go through, they explained. They led you to some sort of spa-room, with various amounts of fruits and pastries on a table in one corner. They encouraged you to help yourself and relax. You took a warm bath, with sweet scented herbs wafting through the air and petals in the tub. After you had climbed out, there was clothing laid out for you. A white silk feathered robe, one that hugged your curves and felt smooth against your skin. Nothing else.
I guess they want us to get straight to the point, you thought to yourself. You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the anxiety out of your bones. You wished Luffy were with you. He’d kiss your fears away and tell you that you’d be fine. He’d help you get out of your head and live in the moment. But he wasn’t here. The royal servants had you two prepare yourselves in separate rooms. A soft smile spread across your face as you thought of Luffy, who had probably eaten all the treats laid out for him and asked for more. 
Sitting on a cushy loveseat, you ate some fruit and anxiously awaited the servants’ return. Waiting like this would kill you, but it wasn’t like you could leave and find your boyfriend yourself. You would just have to sit here, just you and your brain, and wait to be called so you could have sex in front of a crowd. No big deal. 
A soft knock on the door saved you from your spiraling thoughts. The servant from before peeked her head through it. “Ms. L/N? The ceremony is ready for you now.”
They led you down a strange and looming hallway. You tried to psych yourself up. It worked at first, but started to lose its effect the more you walked.
“Y/N? HEEEEY!” You heard a shout from behind you. You didn’t get the chance to turn before a weight collided with your back, pushing you forward. Steadying yourself, you reached an arm back to pet through the soft, jet-black hair you knew you’d find. 
“Hi Luffy.” You smiled. You could feel your anxiety melting away in his presence.  You could feel the warmth of his smile as he tightened his arms around you and nuzzled into the back of your neck. This is what you loved about him. The way he was able to calm your nerves and make you feel so safe and warm just by being near him. “You excited?”
“Hmm? For what?” Luffy unraveled himself off of you so he could lace your fingers together. The two of you kept walking, following the royal servants. They claimed you two were nearing the ceremony’s auditorium. You raised an eyebrow at Luffy before realization dawned across his face. “Oh! That?” he shrugged, “I dunno. I’m more excited about bein’ with ya. I don’t really care if people see us, so it doesn’t make much of a difference to me.”
You blushed at Luffy’s boldness, but you had expected an answer like that from someone like him. With a squeeze of his hand, the two of you approached two large doors.
“Beyond these doors is the entrance to the stage, where you two will be conducting the ceremony. We wish you the best of luck and we thank you for all that you have done for us.” The servants bowed their heads and opened the doors.
You and Luffy looked at each other and you took a deep breath before nodding and stepping through them together.
You and him walked onto a stage. A large bed was placed in the middle of it. White sheets, a couple pillows, and a small nightstand with two water bottles were the only things there. You swallowed, mouth dry. You heard a few cheers as the two of you made your way to the bed. Luffy looked at you. He had a feeling you might be nervous, so he squeezed your hand before lifting his other to your face and pulling you in. His lips met yours. It was… surprisingly gentle. Normally Luffy is fueled by passion lit deep in his stomach. But when his face pressed against yours, he was sweet and soft.  
“Don’t think about them,” He murmured against your lips when he pulled back. He brought the hand that held yours to the other side of your face, cradling your head between his palms. He felt so warm. “Just focus on me, yeah?” 
You nodded and sighed into his mouth when he pulled you in once more. You were so wrapped up in your lips moving against Luffy’s you didn’t notice you were moving, until Luffy pulled away to sit back on the bed. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He pulled his hat from where it hung against his collarbone to place it on the bed. His garments were similar to yours in that they were silky white, but he only wore baggy parachute pants held up with a drawstring. You assumed he was also bare underneath, if his half hard length had anything to say about it. You whined into his mouth as you straddled him, one hand buried in his soft jet-black hair. The other trailed down his neck and over the X-shaped scar on his chest. Luffy gasped into your mouth, his scar tissue sensitive. His hands tightened on your waist and he pushed you onto him, trying to garner a bit of friction against his rapidly hardening member. 
“F-fuck, Y/N…” It was Luffy’s turn to sigh into your mouth. With a shudder, he brought up a hand to undo the belt that held your robe closed. When it fell open, Luffy grabbed your waist- underneath the robe this time. You whimpered when his hand gripped your flesh and squeezed, his palms igniting fires against your skin. When he went to pull the robe off of you, you stopped him.
“Not yet.” You whispered against his lips when he tilted his head at you in confusion. He seemingly understood because he went back to wrestling his tongue with yours, your kisses becoming more and more heated as time passed. You swayed your hips against his, reveling in the whine that escaped from Luffy’s mouth. He seemed to get a little more restless, because he suddenly stood, giggling when you gasped against him. He turned around with you in his arms, before tossing you onto the bed. You yelped.
“L-Luffy!” You looked at him, scandalized. Luffy shrugged it off with a laugh, kicking off his sandals and crawling after you. He had a dark look in his eyes as he situated himself between your legs. The two of you laid together on the bed with your sides facing the audience. You figured Luffy did it this way so you wouldn’t have to face them directly, and your heart swelled with love for the man in front of you. He could be considerate when it really mattered, and it made moments like these all the more special. Your hand twisted into his hair and pulled him back down to you. He groaned into your mouth and rutted his hips into yours. He was hard, painfully so, and you wanted to help him the way you knew how. You locked your legs and rolled him over. He grunted in surprise at the position change, blinking up at you with wide eyes. You pressed a kiss to his lips playfully and pulled back to sit on top of him.
“Let me take care of you right now, m’kay?” You leaned back down and pressed kisses to his neck. Luffy groaned, head falling back against the pillow. His breath came quicker as you trailed kisses down his chest, pausing momentarily to suck on a nipple, before continuing downward. He was full on panting by the time you reached his navel. “Luffy… Look at me. Watch me.”
He brought his head up from the pillow and blinked his eyes open to watch you. You pulled back momentarily to undo the drawstring of his pants. You slid the silk down his hips, eyeing down his length as it slapped against his lower belly. He pushed himself up onto his hands to watch you move your hair out of your face and grip his length, hissing through his teeth as you gave it a few pumps. You brought it to your mouth and kissed the tip sweetly, before locking eyes with your captain again and dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick. He hissed as you traced the vein running along his dick, and grunted when you finally sealed your lips around his tip
“Fhh- Y/N… stop teasing,” Luffy whined, his hips squirming to try and get you to take more into your mouth. You grinned as much as you could and pushed his hips down against the bed. Deciding to have mercy on the poor boy, you tightened your lips around him and sucked gently, taking him deeper into your mouth. He groaned as he watched you bring a hand to stroke his dick, using your spit to help your hand glide easier. You whined at the feeling of his weight on your tongue, bobbing your head. Luffy was shaking, bringing a hand to card through your hair. You could tell he was trying to be patient and not fuck your throat the way he wanted to, so you decided to reward him by swallowing him deeper. He let out a cry before whimpering, “C-can I? Please?” 
“Please what, Luffy?” You pulled off of his dick with a pop and stroked him as you waited for him to answer. He squirmed and whimpered as you gripped him tighter. “Use your words.”
Luffy let out an exasperated sigh as he held your face, forcing you to look at him. “Can I fuck your throat? Please?”
You hummed and nodded, kissing his tip before opening your mouth, the flat of your tongue pressing against the underside of his dick. Looking up at Luffy, the two of you locked eyes as you sucked him deeper, deeper down your throat until your nose nestled in the coarse hair at the base of his cock. He threw his head back and groaned as his hand tightened in your hair, holding your head in place. His hips ground against your face. Drool spilled out of the sides of your mouth, your chin sloppy and messy. You tried to hold your breath as your throat constricted around his cock. When he finally loosened his grip on your hair, you pulled back to catch your breath. You didn’t take too long though, because after a moment you dove forward again, pushing yourself past the tears that slid down your cheeks. You hummed as Luffy used his hold on you to build up a steady rhythm, alternating between bobbing you up and down his length and stuffing himself down your throat.
Luffy was panting and whining, and you could tell he was close before he stuttered the warning to you. This made you double your efforts, sucking him down and swirling your tongue around his cock. Luffy let out a broken moan, and that was all the warning you got before he pushed you as far as he could go. You held yourself still as he released down your throat, swallowing as much as you could. Luffy always came a lot, so even when he released you and you pulled back you still had enough cum in your mouth keeping it full. You blinked up at him through teary lashes and swallowed, panting and finally taking the chance to catch your breath. Fuck, you looked absolutely wrecked. Teary-eyed, flushed, and face covered in drool and cum, you sat back on your haunches. At some point, your robe had slipped off your shoulders, revealing your gasping chest. 
“Fuck Y/N.” Luffy cursed as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Ya felt. So. Fucking. Good.” He gasped in between kisses. You whimpered into his mouth, shrugging the rest of the robe off and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His hand found your waist as the other cradled the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You loved his hands. They left scorching trails in their wake, seemingly lighting up your body from the inside out. You wanted him so badly, the crowd of people watching you far from your mind. Your thoughts quickly vanished from your mind when Luffy swiped a finger through your folds, sighing at how wet he found you. He kissed down your neck as he slipped a finger inside of you. You sighed and humped his hand, twisting a hand into his hair. He smirked from where he was sucking a mark into your neck. He surprised you again by picking you up and turning around, laying you against the pillows.
“My turn!” He chirped against your lips as he began kissing down your body. He stopped to leave a few love bites, sucking on your neck and collar. When he reached your chest, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, bringing up a hand to play with the other. His other hand dove lower. You whined, squirming as he toyed with your clit and pinched your nipple at the same time. He kissed and nipped at your chest, delighting in the marks he left behind. He gave equal attention to your other breast before continuing his descent, groping and squeezing your body. He loved how soft you were. It made you really fun to cuddle and he loved the bruises his fingers would leave behind from grabbing your hips too tightly. He looked up at you when he finally reached your dripping cunt. He moved your legs to rest over his shoulders as he pressed kisses to your plush thighs. Using his hold on your legs, he spread them a little more, smiling as he gazed down at your wet pussy. He licked his lips, suddenly giddy. “Ready?”
He didn’t wait for your answer before he ran his tongue through your folds. Your gasp turned into a whimper as his tongue lapped over you more, flicking your clit. He groaned into your cunt at your taste on his tongue. Luffy continued with his languid swipes before pushing his tongue a little deeper, ducking past your entrance. This is where his devil fruit came in handy! His tongue stretched into you, flicking at your walls before retreating, only to repeat a mere second later. Your hips twitched and you whined out into the air before gasping for breath. Your hand reached down to run a hand into Luffy’s hair. The other grasped the pillow. Luffy looked up at you as he plunged his tongue deeper and deeper into you, playfulness shining in his eyes at your reaction. You moaned and writhed against him out of your mind with pleasure.
“M-more… Luffy,” You mewled as you clenched around his tongue. He switched up, pulling his tongue out of you and replacing it with his fingers. He huffed against your cunt, taking a moment to catch his breath. It didn’t last long though, because soon enough he nosed his way forward, sealing his lips around your clit. He sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth as he dipped two fingers inside of you. Slick, wet noises filled the air. You cried out and writhed against him, causing Luffy to grunt and use his grip on your waist to pin you to the bed. “‘M so close Luffy please.”
You were mindless. Rolling your hips against his face, chasing your peak. It was clumsy but slow, with no real rhythm, but growing greedier by the minute. Your thighs began to quiver around Luffy’s head. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, as he doubled down on his efforts. He alternated between slow and fast licks against your clit, while stretching his fingers to reach and curl deep within you. 
“Mmf- Fuck! Luffy,” You gasped, voice wobbling. “I’m s- hnngh… S-so close I- haah… I’m gon-na -!”
Your hips lifted off of the bed, trying to twist out of Luffy’s grasp. He lifted your lower body up a little in his arms, mouth still slotted against your folds. This way you couldn’t hide from the overwhelming pleasure electrocuting your body. You often fought for your orgasms, but Luffy refused to let this one go. He held you tight as you moaned his name. A groan vibrated against your pussy as your release flooded his mouth. You gave up your thrashing, body bouncing a little as you slumped against the mattress. You moaned as you rode out your orgasm on Luffy’s tongue. He kept his mouth on you until you were twitched from oversensitivity. Running a hand through his hair, you gently pulled him away from your shaky thighs and spasming cunt. 
This boy was a mess. Your fluids covered the lower half of his face, glistening against the lights shining onto the stage. His jet-black hair was tousled from your pulling. He smiled at you as if it were just the two of you, seemingly ignoring the cum dripping off of his chin. 
“Y’taste so good Y/N,” Luffy pulled your face forward for a sloppy kiss. You whined at your taste on his tongue. He shuffled forward a bit before pushing you back against the bed. Before he threw himself onto you Luffy slid a pillow under your hips. Your legs slotted against his hips as he made himself comfortable on top of you. “I wanna… be inside of ya so bad… Can I?” He whimpered in between kisses.
You hummed, cradling his face in your palms as you pressed light kisses all over his face. He giggled before burying his face into your neck, his hips rutting against you. Like some kind of mutt, all slobber and excitement as he humped against your folds. You chuckled before shifting a little, angling your hips towards Luffy. You pulled him away from your neck and kissed him deeply. He seemed to get the message. Luffy lined himself up before pulling away from the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths together. He looked down to watch himself push his way inside of you. You threw your head back and whined at the feeling of him filling you up. 
A hiss turned into a groan as he finally bottomed out inside of you, pubic bone pressed against yours. His dick was long and thick, and he stretched out using his devil fruit powers, growing til his tip kissed your cervix. You expected him to start fucking you right away like he normally did. But when he didn’t, you blinked your eyes open and looked up at him in confusion. He smiled at you lazily and looked down to where the two of you were connected. You tried to grind down on him, to gain some sort of friction, but he used his body weight to pin you to the bed.
“Wh- Luffy?” You gazed at him, confused. “What are you-”
“How bad do ya want it?” 
“What?” You blinked at him, not believing what you’d heard.
“I said,” Luffy leaned forward, eyes dark and flickering with mischief. “How bad do ya want it?”
“Luffy, don’t do this, please. Not now,” You pleaded. “I can’t, it’s s-so embarrassing.” You seemed to remember now. You were in front of an audience. One that was eerily quiet, might you add. Your face burned with shame. He wouldn’t make you beg in front of them, would he? You shuddered, slowly turning your head to the audie-
A rough hand grabbed your face, turning you back to look at the man currently inside you.
“Don’t.” He growled. “Look at me and tell me what you want.” He ground his hips into yours for emphasis, delighting in your needy mewls.
You sniffled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. God, of all the times to tap into his possessive, demanding side, he had to choose now. What happened to the sweet, docile Luffy who begged to put his hands on you? The boy who was happy just using your mouth? You couldn’t find him in this suddenly commanding man, who twitched inside of you at your distress. It wasn’t often he got like this, all assertive and dominant, but when he did you basked in his authority. He always fucked you a little bit deeper, a little bit harder when he was in this mood. You were happy to indulge him, to beg and submit to his every whim.
But not like this.
This was humiliating.
You whined and squirmed as you thought over your next words carefully. You decided to beg for mercy once more.
“I-I can’t.”
“Fine, I guess ya don’t want it.” Luffy sighed discontentedly. He pulled away from you, shifting to pull himself out of you before you stopped him. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him back in with a small yelp. Your hands gripped his arms caged around you. Luffy looked down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. 
“Please, captain…” you sniffled, tears of frustration spilling down your face as humiliation boiled within your veins. But you couldn’t deny the way you clenched down on Luffy as your resolve crumbled into pieces. “Please fuck me. Cum deep inside of me, please. Please. I need it so badly, fuck.”
He blinked at you.
“Fuck. Fuck! I need you to f-fuck me, captain. Please.” You sobbed, writhing on his dick. Luffy laughed, shifting on his knees and hooking his elbows into the crook of your legs. His trademark grin beamed down at you as shivers wracked your body.
“See? That wasn’t so hard!” Luffy snickered. He wouldn’t call himself a sadist, but he did find you crying and begging for him to fuck you kind of funny. “Okay, okay, fine. I gotcha.”
With that, he drove his hips forward. Luffy grunted as you clenched around him, your walls so warm and wet. His length hammered away at that spot inside of you, blurring your vision. You moaned, head rolling back against the pillow. He felt so fucking good. Your mind short-circuited and you couldn’t focus on anything other than Luffy’s length pounding you. With a loud groan, Luffy looked down to where you two were connected. He watched his cock pump in and out of you at an erratic pace. His mouth hung open, drool dripping down his chin and onto your belly. 
That’s when he saw it.
When he’d bottom out, a slight bulge would poke out of your lower abdomen. He wanted to see it again. He pushed into you as deep as he could, staring down your body as your back arched off the mattress. Luffy gasped and sat up a little more, lifting your hips with his hands. He used his hold on you to thrust deeper, harder, his tip knocking against the walls of your with each thrust.
“Ngh- Look, Y/N…” Luffy grunted and whined as you lifted your head, almost delirious but willing to obey him. “You can-ah! You can see me inside ‘f ya.”
You watched as he fucked you like an animal, desperate to bury himself within the deepest parts of your body. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the bedsheets, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried out into the air. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any more overwhelming, your captain pressed the palm of his hand on your tummy, feeling himself slide in and out of you. 
You couldn’t speak. Your body was alight with pleasure, and you felt your peak rapidly approaching. The coil wound deep inside of you tightened. But this orgasm felt a little… different. You could feel the waves of pleasure intensify, like a dam fit to burst.
“L-Luffy I’m-” You were unable to finish your sentence, his length knocking into you just right. You practically screamed and threw your head back as you finally let go. Pleasure ripped through you like a tsunami, your vision spotting, hearing nothing but the pounding of blood in your ears. 
You heard it before you saw it. Your release squirting out against Luffy’s abdomen as he fucks you through it. Loud, wet squelches filled the air, mixing with the sound of your cries and Luffy’s groans. Luffy let out a loud moan, dropping to his forearms and hovering over you. He slowed down a little, opting for grinding his hips into you to catch his breath.
“Fuck Y/N… You’ve never… mnhh- done that before.” Luffy heaved, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your neck. You had squeezed so impossibly tight around you when you came, and even now your pussy flutters with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, petting his hair.
“Luffyy…” You whined, your words slurring together. You warbled something about feeling good before kissing his neck. Everything else had faded away. All you could see, think, feel was him and how good he was making you feel. You wrapped your legs around him, caging him in. Luffy’s moans and whines rose in pitch.
“Y/N! I- hff- ‘m gonna-!” Luffy ducked his head into the crook of your shoulder and moaned, hips stuttering as he came. You moaned at the feeling of his warm seed filling you up. Luffy pushed in as deep as he could go and stayed there. He always preferred being deep inside of you whenever he came. He didn’t care about getting you pregnant, but he loved the way you twitched and whined whenever he came inside of you. With a sigh, he peeled himself away from you, sitting back to admire the mess between your bodies. He laughed.
“Wow, look at the mess ya made!” Luffy snickered. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, face flushed. You’ve never cum so hard before, and you hadn’t even realized you’d squirted until you saw the damage. Luffy’s abdomen and thighs glistened with your cum. His cum dripped from your cunt onto the soaked bed sheets beneath you. Luffy snickered, then brought a hand to grip your thigh. Using his hold on you, he flipped you over onto your stomach. You yelped and shot a confused look over your shoulder. “What? ‘M not done with ya just yet.”
His hands gripped your hips, pulling them upward, your back bowing into an arch. Luffy groped at your ass as he watched the last of his cum ooze out of your cunt. He didn’t like that, so he collected the fluid that threatened to drip down your thighs and pushed it back into you.
“L-Luffy! Just get on with it already!”
“Shishishishi! Sorry Y/N. I jus’ can’t help but play with ya.”
You yelped once more as you felt a hand collide harshly with your ass. Your head whipped around to look at him over your shoulder, face flushed.
“Wh-what the hell was that for?!”
Luffy shrugged with a snicker. “Dunno, just felt like it.”
“Well, give me a warning the next time you decide t- aahn!”
Luffy interrupted you by pushing inside of you in one swift movement. He shifted forward on his knees, leaning forward and nipping at your ear.
“Sorry, were ya sayin’ somethin’?”
He began to pump in and out of you, hard and deep. This position made it easier to hit the deepest parts of you, tip of his cock knocking against your cervix with each thrust. Fuck, any semblance of coherence you held onto slipped from your mind, Luffy’s cock fucking you dumb. You drooled onto the pillow beneath you, moans flowing freely from your open mouth. Luffy whined, driving into you faster. His hips snapped against your ass.
You squirmed and whined as his length pounded away at your g-spot. Your thighs quake, you can feel yourself fluttering around his length. You were reaching another orgasm rapidly, trying to stop it or slow down was futile. Luffy was going to fuck you through your orgasm whether you liked it or not. The repeated stimulation against your cervix and the barely-there stimulation of his balls slapping against your clit drove you closer and closer to the edge.
“Hff- I can feel ya tightening up ‘round me like a fuckin’ vice, baby.” Luffy groaned, his words breathy. He angled his hips, rolling his hips, trying to get you to cum. His arm reached around you, index finger circling your clit. You cried out and clenched down on Luffy. He moaned and you came, gushing around his cock. It wasn’t as intense as your last orgasm, but that didn’t make it any less euphoric. Fireworks danced behind your eyelids as you trembled and cried out in mindless pleasure.
“Atta girl!” Luffy huffed. Your thighs quivered and gave out, crumbling against the bed. Luffy fell with you, sweaty chest pressed against your back. He slowed down, letting you catch your breath for a moment, but still wanting to stimulate himself. He nipped at your ear. “S-so fuckin good f’me baby… Gimme one more, please?”
“Luffyyy,” you whined, words slurring together. Talking was no easy feat. Your tongue felt thick and too heavy to move. Your vision blurred and your face was wet from the tears staining your cheeks. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you could cum again. It’s not like the drag of his cock through your oversensitive walls was helping you, either. “I dunno…  ‘f I can- nnh.”
“C’mon princess, please? For me?” He pressed fleeting kisses against the side of your face and neck, desperate to feel you squeeze him tightly again. Your cunt fluttered and he groaned, wanting so badly to resume his previous pace. But not without your permission. “Please, please?”
Bringing your arms to hold the pillow underneath you, you ground your hips back against your boyfriend. Your nerves alight with oversensitivity, you moaned and squirmed on his cock. It was hard to speak, but you tried your best to show him that you were willing to try, were giving him permission to fuck another orgasm out of you. Luffy seemed to take the hint. He let out a soft chuckle and kissed your face tenderly, he was so in love with you. Nibbling at your ear, he sped up, thighs clapping against your ass. The sound of him fucking you mixed with his overstimulated whimpers in your ear made you whine and clench down on his cock. 
Luffy brought a hand underneath you to rub at your clit, delighting in the way you cried and writhed on his length. You were close, still basking in the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, he just needed something to push you over that edge and into euphoria. A lightbulb went off in his head at the same time that you fluttered around him. He just needed to press on you the way he did before, right? The heel of his palm pushed against your lower abdomen as his middle finger stretched to stay pressed to your clit. It was an awkward angle, but he was determined to have you gush all over him like you did before. You sobbed, practically screaming as your hips bucked, but you had nowhere to go since his hips kept you smothered against his hand and the bed. Your mind went completely blank. Stars burst behind your eyelids. 
“LUFFY! ‘M ssoohmygod ‘m gonna cum- ‘mgonnacumsofuckingh-”
Your legs kicked out as you squirted once more, your screams muffled against the pillow you bit into. Luffy was at the end of his rope. He kept fucking into you, your orgasm bringing him to his own. He bit down on your neck as he came, buried as deep inside of you as he could go. He growled as his cock throbbed and pumped wave after wave of his seed into you. Your forehead pressed against the pillow you had scooped into your arms, gasping for breath. Mentally, you were blissed out. Warmth spread through every part of your body, tingling with pleasure. Your thighs trembled even as you came down from your orgasm. 
Luffy was in a similar state. He slumped against you, chest heaving. His hands caressed the sides of your body as he came down from his orgasm. He licked at the deep bite mark he left on your neck. It wasn’t deep enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to leave a mark for the next few days, a week if he was lucky. Knowing that you’d be walking around with a mark left by him made his dick throb. 
“You okay, baby?” He whispers in your ear, hand rubbing at your back soothingly. You gurgle a response, physically incapable of forming words while you were still coming down. Luffy chest vibrates from where he’s pressed against you as he chuckles. When he pulls away from you, you whine at the loss of his warmth. You’re finally starting to regain consciousness, though your words are slurred. “Luffy… ‘m tired.”
“Aww, are ya? I can take ya back to the ship if ya want.” Luffy sat up, drinking some of the water that was sitting on the table next to the bed. You seem to perk up at that, and he grins, setting the water back down before rolling off the bed. You seemed to forget about the crowd watching you, and though Luffy was aware of their watchful eyes he couldn’t bring himself to care. He picked up his hat from where it’d fallen onto the stage, placing it back onto his head. He didn’t bother with the pants. He nudged you to sit up, as you already started drifting off to sleep. “C’mon, Y/N. Sit up fa me.”
Luffy pulled you into his arms, lifting you up off the bed. You grumbled and wrapped your arms and legs around him, not unlike a koala. He giggled as you buried your face into his neck. He knew that when you woke up you’d probably flush with embarrassment at your lack of self-awareness, but he didn’t mind. You were so cute when you were all flustered. Even now, the way you drooled a little bit onto his shoulder was adorable. Luffy sighed with content as he carried you through the doors exiting the stage and down the hallway. 
The captain of the strawhat pirates was so in love with you it even startled him sometimes. The way you kept a level head when he was flying off of the handle. You helped rein him in without smothering him or cramping on his way of life. You balance him out. His heart did little jumping jacks when he met you, and the minute you offered to help him he knew he had to have you on his crew. So he didn’t mind carrying you all the way back to the ship, not at all. You were his, and he’d carry you for miles if it meant he could wake up next to you in the morning.
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Thanks for reading! I may include an epilogue (or a part two) if I feel like it >w<
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nayatarot777 · 10 months
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what strengths do you have that are not acknowledged by you?
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subscribe to the patreon if you’d like to :)
• pile one •
it seems like in situations of complete chaos and disaster, your independence immediately kicks in. you know what to do and operate from your intuition which influences your actions and how you approach dealing with messy situations. i’m also hearing that you yourself will burn some shit down if you need to lmao. sometimes you don’t even know why but it’s because whatever it is has been keeping you in the dark, away from your own strengths. you intuitively pick up on that and know when connections with people, things, and places need to go. you know how to cross a bridge and acknowledge any illusions and truths that may have been hidden prior. you guys do a whole lot of self work too, and i don’t think that you realise just how much you invest energetically into yourself. this tearing shit down might be in relation to yourself - you know when aspects of you gotta go 😂. you use chaos as a tool to push yourself forward (you could do well with chaos magic for my witches and practitioners out there).
you’re not someone with control issues. if something is clearly crumbling, you don’t try to cling onto it and prolong your pain unnecessarily. you understand that nobody’s holding you at gun point to settle for chaotic people and situations, so you move accordingly. period. you’re extremely nurturing, caring, etc - but that doesn’t mean that you allow yourself to act like a fool in the name of love or caring about someone. you know how to also implement your own boundaries and do what’s best for you. because you have unconditional love for yourself - or more love for yourself than for the people and situations that cause a ruckus in your life. when things go wrong, you put yourself into a state of acceptance and receive the lessons that you need to from these situations. you take responsibility and accountability for the part that you play in the crumbling of connections and situations. meaning that you’re not someone who acts like a complete victim to life and to everyone around you. you know that certain things in your life wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t play a part and allow them to develop when they clearly weren’t built on stable foundations in the first place. even if someone else does you wrong, you will still ask yourself “wtf is wrong with me and my actions/mindset/standards that helped aid in this bs happening? why did i continue to feed into this? why did i settle for this?”.
you hold onto stability internally for yourself, therefore that reflects in the physical in some way. whether that be through your finances or some other area of your practical life. you listen to your intuition that helps to protect everything valuable that you’ve already accumulated for yourself already. you also don’t over-extend. mfs may have tried (and failed) to make you feel selfish for this but you understand that they’re just mad that you won’t let yourself be used as a charity case for leeches. you’re receptive to your higher self when it steps in to protect you from certain people. even if they’re people who your ego doesn’t want to necessarily let go of, you’ll let it happen for the sake of your own self-preservation, which is how it should be. you’re loving and caring and nurturing but not out of desperation for love and acceptance. not to receive that back for yourself in order to fill a void. this isn’t self-serving love and nurture for others out of a state of lack. this is out of pure genuine intentions. you’re fulfilled alone and you’d like to fulfil others where possible. however, if you ain’t getting wtf you deserve back, you dip and go back to just focusing on yourself. you don’t let your energy be easily accessible to energetically vampiric people.
• pile two •
your strengths are related to your belief systems and your life philosophies. you know how to be your own mentor and how to give yourself the knowledge that you need - mostly about yourself. this seems to be how you maintain your internal peace. you don’t gain much peace from knowledge given to you from outside of yourself, and that doesn’t mean that you can’t find valuable information from others, but you know that you have a direct connection to the divine of your own. you also know how to manifest and persist in manifesting whatever you want over the course of a long time. and whereas other people would grow impatient, you stay balanced and understanding that what you want is in the process of being given to you. you don’t let much in your external life fuck with your internal state of being. and there’s a repetition of patience throughout this whole spread. you don’t force anything. i’m also hearing that you know how to navigate traditional expectations and structures in society through your own methods. it’s like you don’t fit into society and what they want, but it seems like you do from the outside, so you go under the radar or something like that.
you value your own beliefs and morals over what other people may try to enforce onto you, and this results in a very stable sense of self. you know what you stand for based on your own viewpoints and opinions, so you’re not prone to easily falling for feeding into other people’s expectations of you. you’ve also made your own safe space according to how you want your life to be structured and it’s not easy for others to have influence over this or to even be let in. you guys could also allow your shadow as an energy of protection. you could have lilith or pluto in the first house or something like that. but your shadow is clear to see to other people, especially to those who try to take something of yours that’s quite valuable to you (whether that’s money, time, or something else). thanks to this, you see what you need to and i believe that people view you as someone who people can’t really get anything past. also, when you’re tending to your work (whatever that may be) you’re able to redirect your path to one with less challenges when you encounter blockages on the path that you’re on. it seems like this is quite easy for you, or like it’s easy for you to maintain momentum + motivation with what you invest energy into.
you’re able to learn a lot about the physical realm and how to feel complete within it. even when others would expect you to feel some type of lack, it seems like you understand what’s truly valuable to you. your version of abundance may be heavily different to other people’s version - your abundance is felt metaphorically - and you could reject what the world tells people regarding what to prioritise and what’s important (like earthly riches). you could find more value in your family, teachings from family members like your grandparents for some of you in particular, and that’s what has you feeling like you always have a stable foundation in your life. where other people would only ever feel stable through finances, you feel stable through the faith that you hold. you also know how to dissect your mental state when you’re dealing with some mental conflict, leading you to single out the mindsets that actually serve you and discard the rest. your mind seems to be constantly changing for the sake of becoming more grounded in reality, so maybe that’s something that you feel like you struggle with usually. but you’re doing it! a lot of you could have earth signs in your big three.
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drewsbuzzcut · 8 months
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Keeping Up With The Barzals
mat barzal x model!fem!reader
a visceral in doses fic (editorial edition)
warnings: mentions being parents, having insecurities, mentions vibrators, early issues in a relationship, hints at sex, and I think that’s all… let me know if I missed something. ALSO: this takes place in 2027, so they only have Nolan!
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Appealing, show stopping, the symbol that love doesn’t have to fizzle out with the pressures of success, or the responsibilities of true adulthood. I get the opportunity to interview the most famous couple to ever grace our social media feed. Y/n and Mat open up about their lives in the limelight.
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A very pristine woman who isn’t afraid to change things up and dirty her clothes, that’s Y/n (soon-to-be) Barzal. From dominating the catwalks to being the best mom she can be, Y/n is a layered masterpiece. Y/n will go to the ends of the earth for her family. If that means she’s helping organize charity events for her husband's hockey team, or turning away jobs to be present for her son, she’ll do it. When asked about it, she said it’s a major privilege to be able to turn away jobs for her kid’s sake and to be able to help raise money for the Islanders.
As a model who is this generation’s icon, she’s awfully real. There’s no hiding or pretending when it comes to Y/n. In my opinion, that’s what makes her so inspiring and likable to everyone. However, don’t confuse her privacy for lying. There’s been many instances when Y/n had to keep aspects of her life private to protect those she loves. Times when the audience wasn’t too kind about her choice.
“There was a time when many people thought I was never around Nolan when he was an infant. It seemed that everyone got used to me posting little updates on my Instagram story, so when it stopped people were confused. People thought that I just hired a nanny and was never around my son. It hurt to hear those speculations, especially because they were so far from the truth. Nolan got really sick. He was only 6, almost 7 months and he got really sick. Mat and I had no clue how he contracted his sickness, but it was scary for a little while. I stopped working for that time frame, and I followed Mat, with Nolan of course. Mat had to continue working, but I just couldn’t be without him while our baby was going through what he was going through, so I traveled to each location he traveled to. I of course posted Instagram stories and posts, because not all my days were bad, but I didn’t and wasn’t going to post anything about Nolan until he was 100% better.” Y/n goes into detail about one of those incidents where she went quiet about certain things in her life.
“So many people think it’s so easy to be productive and encouraged all the time. I go from personality to personality with each photo shoot I work on. Not because I’m trying to be fake about who I am, but because sometimes photo shoots require you to step out of the person you are, and it’s not always a bad thing, but lines do get blurry and your mind gets foggy. It’s actually easier to get lost in emptiness, trying to get your feet to touch the ground. I think that’s why I try so hard to be open with my supporters. I’m holding myself accountable all at the same time. Becoming a mother definitely helped me with some of the fog. Becoming a mother made me stronger. I’m always being my best self for my son. I am also always being my best self for my husband. They’re everything to me.” Y/n gives us a little insight on what it’s like to experience the not so glamorous side of a fast paced lifestyle.
Aside from being a mother and a model, Y/n is the person who is determined. No one has to write a story about her, because she’s already writing it herself. I’ve never come face to face with someone with such confidence that’s still so humble. Y/n knows how to cook, knows how to style any piece of clothing, knows how to love herself and others selflessly, and most importantly, she can write. If you’re asking why it’s important that she writes when just about anyone can write, I mean Y/n really knows how to write. I am lucky enough to have received early access to the first draft of her very first manuscript. The words this woman can write are amazing. That’s just putting it lightly. It’s important that Y/n is such a phenomenal writer, because she has the chance to share her wisdom and thoughts. I happen to think her thoughts can change, if not the world, at least one person’s life.
“Don’t make me seem like I’m all work and no play. I can be loose around all my edges.” Y/n states as we near the end of our interview. As I said, she’s continuously writing her own story even when my pen stops. After hearing her out, I’ve come to the conclusion that she is the life of the party that every 20-something year olds wants to be. She blazes a fierce trail of being true to her indulgences. If she’s craving an ounce of music to fill her veins, she’ll gather her best pals and partake in a night of clubbing. If she craves a big, private party, she’ll rent a huge yacht and let her girlfriends go wild. There’s no barrier that will contain Y/n. She breaks any bounds because for her, living life isn’t about being uniform or perfect. Being a mom, a role model, or just someone who is responsible won’t stop her from being who she truly is. That’s not to say that Y/n is a big time party girl, or that she doesn’t care about herself or her surroundings. She does care, she just knows when not to.
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Before kids, Mat and Y/n had one word to describe their relationship. “Sex.” They both splutter with laughter when they see the shocked look on my face. They assure me that “sex” isn’t the word they’d use, but I don’t think that sex is a lie to get a reaction out of me. It’s easy to see just how strongly they feel about each other. They’re playful and very teasing with one another. It’s all very sensual, though. You can feel the heat they radiate when their eyes connect with each other.
“Our relationship is chaotic. The type of chaos that makes you run in circles, pulling on your hair. The type of chaos that you search for when life loses meaning. The type of chaos that is unexpected, but welcomed and makes you feel alive. It’s scary, but only because it makes you feel so much. ‘Chaos.’ It causes pain and happiness, but the happiness is always there. The chaos makes us strive to be better. It makes our love timeless.” Y/n and Mat answer the question with a sureness that’s rare.
Speaking of being timeless, the envious pair are set to get hitched at the end of May. You may have noticed that they’re already referring to each other as husband and wife.
If you’re looking for tips on keeping things fresh, continue reading.
“We don’t force sexual activity. We also don’t plan it, we just let our feelings do what they do best. I don’t know if that’s because our connection is too strong, or for whatever reason we are usually in sync. Maybe it’s our constant teasing. We never go a day without teasing each other. It makes our touches, our kisses, more intense.” Mat explains.
“We also kiss a lot. We will never not kiss each other if that’s what we feel we should do. Lately, people have gotten used to hiding their affection, but they shouldn’t hide it. Embrace it, unless it really does make you uncomfortable. It’s actually so funny because I know Mat wasn’t really the type of person to be into PDA, but it changed when we got together.” Y/n chimes in.
“Yeah, that’s true. I never cared for PDA, but like Y/n said, when you feel it, you feel it.”
It’s honestly crazy that these two only have one child. When I told them that, they both laughed. Y/n was the first one to tell me that their baby boy would be their only baby for a while. Mat was unsure of her words, but nonetheless agreed with her.
The baby talk sidetracked our initial conversation of intimacy, but this type of intimacy between the small family is actually beautiful. They both went on and on about the throes and joys of parenthood. They were both surprised at the fact they were having a baby so early on in their relationship, but they told me it genuinely made their bond unbreakable.
Looking at the way their eyes always gravitate back towards the other’s, and their lingering touches that soothe their anxieties, it’s easy to see why they’re so desirable. It’s not about Mat being an attractive athlete, or Y/n being the most beautiful model, it’s the way they portray the feelings of love and passion.
Here’s their last relationship tip: “Don’t focus on finding the perfect person, or being the perfect person. Be yourself. I know it’s cliche, but be yourself. If you find THE one, they’ll always love you for who you are. Your passion and affection will never dim. If you’re feeling lonely, don’t settle for someone who doesn’t deserve you, just buy a vibrator.”
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The so-called ladies man who turns into a puddle at the sight of his wife, Mat Barzal isn’t who you think he is.
As an athlete whose privacy is a bit more respected than the average celebrity, we needed to do a deep dive on New York’s finest hockey player.
Rising to early stardom, the young hockey player was perceived way before he got the chance to grow up. Different outlets vaguely recalling Mat as the playboy, or even a wasted talent. They had no clue who they were writing about, that much is clear. Mat is wise, something he says he learned from Y/n, and he’s not some egotistical man, looking for power. Sure, he’s confident in who he is, but that doesn’t make him conceited. He’s actually smart, despite what stigmas have been formed on hockey’s best. He’s not a one track man.
“Hockey has always been a big thing for me. It’s probably one of my biggest accomplishments, winning the cup and just having outstanding numbers, but my accomplishments don’t stop there. I’m proud of the man I’ve become and the father I’ve become. It’s taken a lot to not get crushed under the words and expectations of people on the outside. I still struggle with ignoring the unnecessary noise. Sometimes it seems like no one’s realized that I’ve grown up. To them I’m still a young boy who received too much too fast. I just want to say that I’m not denying that part of me, but that part of me is also stagnant. I’m not a young boy. I’m a man, a man with a wife and son. I know I’m still young in age, but certainly not my actions. Don’t get me wrong I’m not some grandpa. I get out, I drink and I sometimes act wild. I also know when to be responsible because I do have a son and a wife, whose reputation can easily be reflected off my own reputation.”
Mat Barzal is someone to be proud of. He’s also someone who many want to be friends with; I don’t blame them.
“My party days? I don’t know if my party days will ever be over. My wife, who’s younger than me, is a smoke show. I want to take her everywhere, show her off. She’s the love of my life, why wouldn’t I want to, you know. She’s also keeping me young and active. She usually doesn’t like to go to parties alone, so I’ve become accustomed to attending them with her. Plus, my teammates know how to throw a party, too. I love going to those and so does Y/n. Ever since having a son, it’s been a little harder to party. If it’s a get together, we’ll most likely bring Nolan along because we know there will be other kids there. And no, we’re not drinking or driving with our son around, or in general. If we have Nolan with us, I won’t drink, just simply enjoy the vibes and get drunk off my wife and see her enjoy herself. If it’s just Y/n and me, it’s a whole different story. We will get drunk together, but we will make sure we have a safe ride home through our car service.”
An all-around easy going guy with a great sense of humor, and an undying love for his wife and son. Hockey does not define this man.
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For someone (Y/n) who’s so public about a lot of things, it really throws people for a loop when they’re out of the conversation about their relationship. I don’t even have to ask them about it, I see it all the time on Twitter. There are always questions about what’s going on, or if they’re even still together. The biggest speculation I’ve seen is that their relationship is all PR.
I honestly don’t understand the need for people to immediately demote a relationship to a PR one. It’s actually offensive, to the couple at least. I'm going to say it once, and once only, Y/n and Mat are not a publicity stunt. I feel that most people know that by now that they have a kid together, but if you didn’t know, now you do.
“We never thought our relationship would be such a big deal to many people, but anytime I’m not wearing islanders gear or pictured with barzy in the span of 1 minute, magazines are popping out new headlines by the minute. ‘Y/n and Mat: The Breakup of the Century,’ ‘Y/n no longer engaged to the hockey heartthrob.’ People live for us to say that our relationship is perfect. It’s not. That’s a fact. We’ve had so many issues in our relationship, not that we’d share all of them, but it’d just make everyone go ballistic if they knew. Something as complicated and beautiful as a relationship shouldn’t be dictated or have an opinion formed by people who know nothing about the couple and their history. Mat and I aren’t perfect; a big portion of our relationship has been built on our issues.”
Just because they’re a powerhouse couple, doesn’t mean they don’t have their insecurities. Talking with the couple, I learned a lot about how they feel like they have to hide their true feelings due to being perceived certain ways.
“A lot of fans expect us to be indestructible, yet they’re usually the ones tearing us down. I hate to admit it, but a lot of our fights have stemmed from actions of those watching us online. It’s not that we necessarily believe what they’re saying, but some of it lingers in the back of our minds. We then start to pull away and not talk about the way we feel. It’s going to surprise people when I say that Y/n and I have gone to couple’s therapy so early on in our relationship. It was a hard time that I wouldn’t change because it showed each other that we were in it no matter what. Thick and thin.”
“People might be bothered about what I’m about to admit, but I don’t really care. In the nicest way possible. Anytime I see someone talking negatively about OUR relationship, I post pictures of us. We can be doing the most mundane tasks, or out and about, I will post it to rub it in their face. Is it immature? Sure, to some. In all honesty, who wouldn’t show off their man if they’re as wonderful as barzy is. Sorry that y’all didn’t get to him first,” Y/n states, walking over to her husband and laying a passionate kiss on his lips. They’re clearly not bothered by the presence of others when indulging in each other.
a/n: This was something different for me to write, but I loved it and I hope y’all do too!!
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fortheloveofhens-zine · 8 months
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Hello!
This is an introduction post explaining this project and hopefully garnering some attention!
🥚 What's this about?
This is a fanzine by Shane fans, for Shane fans. It's a fan project to appreciate this character, his story, and his growth, and how much it means to a lot of us who have been through similar things.
🥚 How will this work?
Like most other zines! The project will begin on a certain date, and artists and writers will have several months to complete a piece of their choosing for the fanzine. We will use discord to communicate, schedule, and smooth out any issues.
🥚 When is the projected release?
I think aiming for spring 2024 would be nice! It'd be nice to release the zine around when Shane's birthday would be.
🥚Will this be a paid zine?
This is a charity zine to raise money for the mental health charity Samaritans! Samaritans is a charity that operates free and confidential phone lines for people to reach out and talk to someone whenever they're having a difficult time. They provide a listening service for those who may be suffering from suicidal thoughts or otherwise unpleasant feelings. Donations will be raised via ko-fi during a certain fundraising period and after that's over, the zine will go free to download.
🥚What format is this zine in?
The zine will be formatted to A4 paper size, HOWEVER this zine will only run digitally and will not have a print release as things stand. (Mod honestly can't afford a print release as cool as that would be...)
🥚Who can join?
Almost anyone can join! There is no requirement on skill, online following, previous zine experience etc. If this is your first zine, that's awesome! We welcome you with open arms. This is a zine for anyone who has ever struggled with their mental health, and has felt comforted by a certain stardew valley character. I do require that contributors be at least 13+. Not only would it be against discord terms of service to have under 13s on the platform, but mod here, as a fully grown adult, would also be uncomfortable with it - sorry!
🥚Are there any other rules right now?
There are a few! Let's list them, and please read carefully.
We have a zero-tolerance policy for racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, fatphobia, and anything else that falls into similar categories. ZERO. This is non-negotiable. This is a safe space and anyone displaying any of the above will be kicked off the project.
That said, proship, comship, darkship etc are not welcome on this zine. This is a safe space for everyone, including minors, survivors, and everyone else.
This is a SFW zine. There will be no NSFW art or writing included.
Every artist and writer is free to depict Shane as they like. If they choose to depict him as trans, POC, mlm, or anything else for the sake of representation, that is their choice and you must respect it. See the first bullet point about zero tolerance.
Ableism also extends to bigotry toward those suffering with mental illness, and addicts. We are trying to promote empathy and acceptance. Ableist comments will be warned (e.g. complaining about Shane's room being messy).
Your piece must include Shane as the focal point! That should be clear already, but just in case! So long as he's the focal point, you can draw or write anything! Ships are allowed.
🥚How do I get involved?
For now, I have an interest check form that I plan to run until the end of September! After that, contributor sign ups will open. Remember to follow this blog to see updates on the zine! You can also send questions to my inbox and I will do my best to answer them. For now, here is the interest check:
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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months
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Fic idea I'll probably never write:
Actor Bradley + still naval aviator Jake AU
Bradley was a theater kid and he was a really good theatre kid - his last high school won a national award for a musical he had the main male role and a play he's the main character and his theater club teacher encouraged him to send audition tape for acting schools. He does, just to get her off his back and he gets further auditions for Juilliard and Tisch, somehow.
Mav, who is trying very hard to change Bradley's plans to join the Navy by encouraging him to apply to as many colleges as he can, tells him to go, just in case he likes it. He gets a spot in Juilliard around the same time he finds out Mav pulled his papers from USNA. It's supposed to be just something to fill the time until he can join NOCS when he gets his degree, he doesn't actually think he'll be an actor full time, he just wants to be as far away from Mav and Ice as he can.
Things happen fast - he has his first Broadway role before he graduates. Within the next few years, he stars in an extremely popular TV show in one of the main male roles, he's got a side role in a box office breaking movie, and then he gets cast as the main character for a series of action movies (ala MI or FaF). He's one of those actors that does dangerous stunts himself and who is called a madman by most of his co-stars and gets a reputation as the crazy but absolutely the funniest and kindest guy ever who stars in way too many productions every year. Fans know him as the guy who engages in charity work, donates and promotes charities for orphans, veterans and minorities and as the guy that goes to random bars and sings musical numbers on untuned pianos. His main revenue are the popular action movies but he stars in more traditionally demanding roles for the challenge (dramas, tragedies, thrillers) and romantic comedies and musicals for funnsies and in indie movies way under his budget for the sake of artistic creation.
(Mav and Ice watched every single production he had been in, a few unavailable Broadway productions aside. Most of them, they have on DVDs.)
He had a lot of luck because his breaking side role was directed by one guy and that guy loved him and pushed him into many of his movies later and then the same happened with another two directors.
His career hits a tough point when his sexuality comes out (unwillingly). There are rumors and a lot of people who were fans of his action movies come around and talk shit about him and he decides to take a break from acting for a bit.
He's a year into the break when his friendly director calls and says he's got a military action movie for him. A movie about naval aviators, about fighter pilots. To be filmed raw, in real planes, in real flight, with real pilots.
Bradley says no straight away. But then his friend is like, I know you've got a pilot licence already and you fly planes for fun, don't you want to share the fun with the rest of the cast, don't you want to fly a fighter jet?
Bradley has always wanted to fly a fighter jet, that's what hurts most about it all, so he agrees.
He hasn't talked to Mav or Ice for over fifteen years when he finds out that the Dagger Squadron the cast got their assigned pilots from is led by Pete Maverick Mitchell and said Pete Maverick Mitchell is going to be performing the most demanding jet stunts needed for the movie.
Bradley's assigned pilot for the rest of the film is a very reluctant Jake Hangman Seresin.
Hangman doesn't watch movies and definitely not action movies. He's a romantic comedy kinda guy because his life is an action movie with ad breaks for paper work and training. So he doesn't know Bradley and like hell he's going to be flying for some hollier than thou actor - he's going to put him in his place and make him puke as many times as possible the minute he sits in his backseat.
It doesn't work. Bradshaw doesn't puke once. He's almost impressed.
He's definitely impressed when Bradshaw stops by the Hard Deck, looking absolutely not like someone who earns millions every year, wearing an old Hawaiian shirt, an old pair of jeans, sunglasses and a worn out Casio watch, and Nikes that have seen better days and sits down at the piano with Jake's squad and bursts out songs after songs, sounding like a freaking angel. He has to leave when people start asking about autographs from left and right.
Maybe Bradshaw is hot, whatever. He still doesn't think he's a big deal, he's probably a mediocre actor at best, some pretty boy with rich parents that could send him to acting school and who probably grew up with money that could buy him a career.
They have problems working together, obviously, and Bradley is like, fuck that, and tells him the address of a private airport and tells him to show up at four.
Jake thinks he's going to make him fly a small private plane for the sake of bonding but instead Bradshaw packs into the passenger seat of a new piston sport plane and starts it off. Doesn't explain anything, just takes Jake up in the sky, ignores his chatter until they're in the air space where he can do some funny bits and maneuvers.
At some point, the plane tells him Bradshaw is pulling 6 Gs.
In the end, Bradshaw tells him, "I don't care what you think of me, I just want you to fly the goddamn plane like I'd."
And okay, maybe Hangman starts finding him a bit hot.
He googles him. And watches some of his movies. And his rom coms and his musicals and he reads and reads and maybe Bradshaw isn't that bad.
They start to talk between film takes and then he takes Bradshaw to relax to a taco stand where he won't be recognised. Then to an ice cream place, and bowling, and surfing, and then again and again, until finally, Bradley lands at Jake's house.
In Jake's bed.
Everything would be absolutely fine but not even a few days later not only tabloids find out all about Bradshaw's gay navy romance - his sexual orientation being a topic Bradley's been avoiding as much as he could in the past year - but also about all the things he's told Jake during their dates, like about Goose and about his (unnamed) Navy gay parents and about how tough it was for him in college and then how tough it was being in the closet while in the industry.
Obviously, Bradley thinks the worst about Jake and how all that info surfaced.
(this gets somehow resolved but I didn't think that far - they get together and Bradley reconciles with Mav and Ice and they have an awkward meet the parents moment when Hangman finds out)
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Note
On Renesmee’s stunted growth and the Cullen’s wondering whether it’s about the diet, curious as to how each Cullen views the situation. Is there anyone advocating for her to try human blood?
The post anon's referencing.
Oh boy, and yes, I imagine it's a matter of hot debate (which is why I cut the post off short before we could get into it.
Alice
Alice doesn't really care but mostly she's miffed that she can't see what will happen either way. Everyone's bickering and Alice feels pressure on her to predict her way out when she's 0 help here. She can't see if Renesmee will eventually die, if she's just stuck like this, if she'll grow older eventually, nothing.
She can't even predict which decision will make the family happiest. I imagine she votes animal blood because it's the most likely thing to keep the Cullens intact. The human diet just isn't sustainable even for one person and the Cullens would have to split in half over it.
Alice is against family splitting in half.
Bella
Get her the blood.
They can use blood donations again! Just because Renesmee needs blood doesn't mean she has to become a murderer/not be a Cullen anymore. And more importantly, how can they sacrifice Renesmee's health for an esoteric belief? It's one thing for the rest of them, where the only consequence is being a little weaker, Renesmee might die/is stuck like this.
If they don't want to steal from hospitals, fine, they can set up a fake blood drive/charity with Alice's money. They'll get humans to donate right there in a truck and then Renesmee can eat it fresh.
Bella fails to see why this is even a matter of debate and judges the Cullens strongly for talking about this at all.
Carlisle
As in most things canonically, Carlisle is team "you decide but there will be consequences". He likely lays out that yes, this may have stunted Renesmee's growth, she may even die young because of this, however it's her choice to make if she's willing to live with this for the sake of not eating people.
Most importantly, if she eats people, she can't stay. Eating blood donations is not sustainable at all and even if it was would be noticed. People would still die if those are stolen frequently enough to feed Renesmee. She would have to eat people, actual people, which means she can't stay.
Naturally, this ultimatum throws the family into chaos, and everyone's very upset by it, but them's the breaks.
Edward
Edward's torn. On the one hand, this is not good for Renesmee's health and growth, but on the other hand he can't support not being on the diet even for his daughter. More, if it comes to leaving the family... he can't leave the family.
As Bella's looking increasingly like she'll abscond with Renesmee to feed her people out of spite Edward finds himself more and more stressed as he has to choose between his beloved family and his other beloved family.
Edward tries to play both sides, this goes poorly.
Emmett
As always, Emmett's staying out of this one/taking whichever side Rosalie's taking. Privately, he thinks they should probably just feed the girl blood. Maybe send her to the Irish or something to look after and the family can visit from time to time. She'd be happy there.
Esme
Esme's siding with Bella. She doesn't see why they should be harming the family, doing this horrible thing to this girl, when there are solutions. They can make this work, they always do, and they can't kick Renesmee out for something that's not her fault.
Jasper
Jasper's also staying out of this one but also doesn't really have an opinion/is a bit torn. On the one hand, yeah, this might kill Renesmee. But on the other hand, sometimes life is miserable and you're born a vampire and it's better to die young and in pain than live the life of a murderer.
I imagine him feeling this is a choice Renesmee has to make for herself.
Renesmee
Renesmee doesn't know what's even happening. She's that dog in space.
I imagine she voices she'd rather stay on the diet, as then this argument can be avoided, and she doesn't become the family freak and the one who couldn't hack it.
No one listens to her.
Rosalie
Oh Hell no.
Renesmee's getting the blood. People die all the time, it happens, and there are lots of people who deserve to die for that matter. Are they going to watch Renesmee waste away, for something she can't help, just so they can feel morally superior?
(Yes, this is at odds with Rosalie's firm conviction to remain on the diet and judgement of those who cannot, but I imagine as with other canon events this would skew Rosalie's priorities a bit.)
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rrxnjun · 1 year
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how to self-sabotage: a bulletproof guide by zhong chenle
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pairing: rival! zhong chenle x fem! reader genre: college au | humor, fluff wc: 10.8k warnings: swearing, a mention of alcohol and weed, this is written like a bad disney channel sitcom. i really channeled my inner business graduate with this fic i am so sorry a/n: this is a repost from yesterday bc tumblr was shitty and turned my text black!! playlist: self-sabotage - waterparks ; are you gonna be my girl - jet ; countdown (1, 2, 3) - nct dream ; teenager in love - neon trees ; maniac - conan gray ; drama - txt
one would say it's ungraceful to turn a charity fundraiser into a competition, but you and zhong chenle have no boundaries when it comes to beating each other in a fight. crashing each other's plans, making irresponsible decisions, all just for the sake of winning a competiton you two made yourself; zhong chenle finds a turn of events when the whole thing turns into a self-sabotage.
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❥ hello! this is y/n and welcome to my new youtube video! to celebrate my 600 followers milestone, I prepared something special: let's look at all the boys I've ever had a crush on and interrogate them with a fun questionare! for today's part, we have the boy that tried to sabotage me, but ended up doing quite the opposite: zhong chenle himself! ❥
this fic is a part of my collab! find the rest of the works from the dream chronicles collab here! [tba]
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Sitting at the table, fingers drumming against the light wood, you stare into the unknown and make your dear friend Jisung a little afraid of what’s about to come. Being your best friend is always a challenging fact, considering your over-the-top ideas and drive that makes your clueless friend a little taken aback, but with the premise of a challenge– the charity event that’s going to take place at your university, he already knows he’s up for something wild.
Maybe taking a step back from your master plan would be a better idea. Jisung would save his sanity and also, most likely, a lot of trouble; but that’s not who Park Jisung is. If anything, he’s a loyal friend. No one will take that title away from him. And that’s exactly why he’s sitting opposite of you right now, listening to the hum of the cafeteria, waiting for what you have to say.
“How many people are joining?” you ask, voice stone cold and focused. You don’t meet Jisung’s eye, focusing on the people flowing in and out of the cafeteria instead, the gears in your brain turning faster than on your midterms.
“I don’t know exactly, but I’d say around ten teams of people, each one consisting of at least two to three people, so… at least 30..?” Jisung hums, quickly calculating the numbers in his brain.
“30…. so that means we have at least a 20% chance of winning,” you mutter, chewing on your bottom lip and furrowing your brows, seemingly lost in thought.
“That- that’s not adding up, Y/N…” Jisung mumbles, running the numbers through his brain once again, trying to see if he’s made a mistake or if it was you. See, Jisung is not a straight A student– that’s what you’re here for, after all– but when it comes to Maths, he’s pretty confident. He’s not quite sure why it’s the only subject he’s good at, considering it might be the hardest of the course, but for some reason, logical things are easy for him to grasp.
“I ruled out the freshmen girls, they’re absolutely not winning this. Also, Renjun and Jeno are out as well, because they will underestimate everything and not try hard enough. That leaves us with Yangyang and Hyuck, since I know damn well that each and every girl that’s ever hooked up with either of them will hop on their dicks and buy anything they’re selling,” Jisung chuckles at the seriousness of your voice as you talk, finding the fact that you’re taking this whole thing as your main mission of the semester amusing, “and then… Him. He’s the professor’s favorite. And he’s super good at persuading people. And I know damn well he’s gonna try hard, so actually, the chances of winning are split into three teams, so we have an approximately 30% chance of winning the prize.”
Jisung blinks at you a few times, trying to clear his head. Right now, you look like you’ve been programmed– a robot with no emotions, only set on the task it’s been told to do. You’re not even blinking, he notes and immediately gets freaked out– because what if they switched his best friend for a robot while he was sleeping? What if this is some sick experiment? What if he’s in the Truman show? You may never know these days…
“Y/N, that’s not-”
“It’s 50/50, actually,” you cut him off, nodding.
“How can it be-”
“Simple. It’s me or him. And I will do anything in my power to win, Jisung, so be prepared for a fight,” you order, taking a sip of your water, still not meeting eyes with your companion. Jisung’s kind of glad for that, though– what if you turned into a siren and eye contact with you will turn him into stone? He really doesn’t need that, he hasn’t even had his first girlfriend yet. He’s too young to die!
“It’s for charity, for fuck’s sake, don’t be so competitive…” Jisung sighs, taking another bite of his sandwich that he forgot he was eating for a second as you started with your business meeting, shaking his head in disbelief at your antics. Is anyone even taking this whole thing so seriously?
The business department at your university is having a charity event the upcoming month. The goal is to sell things and raise the most money you can– it’s all for a good cause, of course. The only thing is that your university already realized that your generation, although it loves to help people in need, won’t do anything without having enough motivation. And so, the head of the business department– professor Lee– promised that the team that raises the most money for charity (or the winning team, as you like to call it), will get an iPad pro for their efforts.
Jisung would understand if you were doing it for the iPad. Hell, even he wants one. But the reality is completely different– you just really, really need to be the best at everything. It’s your main purpose in life and when you fail, you fall into weeks long depression, mourning every single aspect that made you fail at your task and getting angry at every person in your sight. That is even scarier than your weird transe that you’re in right now, Jisung admits, and so he usually does his best to help you with your efforts, because he doesn’t like to get screamed at for multiple weeks if you come second.
That, and he also really doesn’t like to see you sad.
“Yeah, so I’m having the right intentions, aren’t I, Jisung?” you finally meet eyes with Jisung, your devoted business partner, as you smile with that kind of curve to your lips that doesn’t really meet your eye.
A shiver runs down the poor boy’s spine at that, pupils widening with terror. Standing up from your position at the table, completely ignoring Jisung’s half-eaten sandwich left at the red tray on the table, you move towards the exit of the cafeteria, expecting him to follow along. “Let’s go, Jisung. We have work to do.”
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“I’m so so surprised at everyone’s interest in the charity event! Thank you so much for coming here today to discuss the details,” Ms Lee chirps from her spot at the top of the table, swinging her arms around like a Disney princess when she sings to all the animals that gathered around her in the backyard of her palace.
Your eyes scan the figures gathered around the room. You’re sitting at one of the big, rounded tables settled in the middle of the conference room, two of the same, mahogany ones to your left and right side, all filled with business students. Some of the faces are familiar to you– like your classmate’s Renjun and Jeno’s, but some of the other ones are foreign to your eyes. You doubt you’ve ever seen those people in your whole, entire life, and you were in the student council last semester, so you were pretty much friends with everyone back then. Maybe it’s the freshmen, you think, as you look at your overly-excited professor and try to listen to what she has to say.
“Only if she knew that half of these people are here for the iPad,” Jisung murmurs into your ear, making you chuckle. He’s right– almost everyone’s here for that. But not you– you could never make your interest in charity so surface-level like everyone else does. You care about much more than getting an iPad, your interests are deeper than that. You don’t need the iPad– although you wouldn’t hesitate to take it if you win, you’re not stupid, after all– you need to win and beat your longest academic rival.
You need to win against Zhong Chenle himself, the top of the business class– he owns the title mainly because his parents own one and he’s had enough time to learn about all the wonders of the business world long before the rest of the people in your class– because you need the satisfaction of being the absolute best. See, you were used to that your whole life. In high school, you were the model student. The one that was set as an example. The best student, the most praised one, the most talented one, the gifted one, even.
You may already know why all of this was more damaging to you than it was good. Getting into university– into the sea of people that were told just that while growing up– was a feeling that made you fall down from the tallest heights of talent to the very middle of it all. The shift from being the best to being mediocre was perhaps the most painful experience of your whole life, but after you managed to get your shit together– and studied your ass off, because it won’t work any other way anymore, it seems– you set your mind on being the best one again, because in your whole childhood, you didn’t know any better. And if you were raised to be the picture perfect child, it’s hard to outgrow these habits.
So if Zhong Chenle was the top of the class in most of your courses, you had to be better than him eventually. The charity event is just another part of the whole process.
“I know this is all for a good thing, but I feel like we still need to set some rules for this whole thing. The main thing is to sell something– anything you want, really– and raise the most money you can for charity. I think everyone already got that, since you’re all sitting here, but I know that the vision of the iPad can blind some of you and get you to be a little too competitive, and while I encourage you to try hard, I also want all of you to play fair. So, here’s the thing,” your professor announces, making you shift a little in your chair and whisper to Jisung to get his notepad out so he can scribble the important info down, preventing you from forgetting it.
“Rule number one. No bad mouthing the others, no anti-campagne. I want all of you to be nice to each other and play it fair, got it?”
A few of you nod, humming in agreement, when a disappointed sigh comes from somewhere behind you, a low mumble reaching your ears and making you chuckle. “I had so much dirt on Donghyuck…”
“Rule number two. I don’t want you selling alcohol, cigarettes, or pretty much anything that’s against the university rules. God forbid if you bring drugs. I won’t hesitate to call the police on you if you do,” your professor continues, earning herself another set of bored hums and nods, cut off only by a pair of your classmates sitting right next to you at the big, rounded table.
A disappointed sigh leaves Yangyang’s mouth at this one, shaking his head in disapproval. You won’t say anything, because you don’t really want your classmate to get in trouble, but the last time you were on a party where Liu Yangyang was present, you couldn’t shake off the smell of weed for weeks, so you’re pretty sure his plan was to sneak in a little something to get more money for the charity. His friend and business partner in one– Lee Donghyuck from your Economy class– grins as his hand shoots up into the air, waiting to be called to ask a question.
“Yes, Donghyuck?”
“Are condoms allowed?” he asks, the innocent grin on his face making the freshmen girls in the back of the room chuckle and hide their face behind their hands.
“Why are you asking that?”
“No reason,” he shrugs, the innocent smile not leaving his face for a second as his childish friend only giggles at the encounter.
“Please don’t sell condoms at the charity event, Donghyuck,” professor Lee pleads, her eyes already full of misery as she realizes just what she’s gotten herself into when agreeing to lead the whole event.
Another disappointed sigh leaves his lips at that, shaking his head. “That’s our whole business plan gone, then…”
Taking exactly three seconds to calm herself down, your professor takes a deep breath in as she runs her hand through her long black hair and then clasps her palms together at her waist, regaining her composure. “Back to what I was saying, we have one more rule you have to follow. You can’t lie about your product. No false advertisement, no made-up stuff to make what you’re selling be more interesting than it already is. We want this to be a serious event, so please, take all of these rules to heart and try your hardest to follow them. Got it?”
Scanning the room, waiting for each and every single one of you to nod, the gathering falls silent. “If none of you have any questions, I consider this meeting to be over.”
The room is instantly filled with the shrieking of chairs on the linoleum ground, making your hair stand up as you arch like an angry cat, hating the sound. Waiting for everyone to get out of the room, you find a pair of men sitting still opposite of you, a cocky smirk plastered on the face of your moral enemy, his friend Jaemin sitting next to him with a well rehearsed poker face. They already look like they run a company, you realize, the thought making your blood boil just at the thought of Zhong Chenle looking more professional than you do– in your baggy sweatpants and a cropped top you grabbed from the top of the pile of half-dirty clothes in your room this morning.
“Ready to get your ass kicked?” Chenle asks, grinning to himself as your eyebrows furrow and you reveal an annoyed face to him. It makes him happy to see you like this– it gives him more satisfaction than anything in his life, to be exact.
“The game’s on, Zhong.”
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Walking towards your table in the cafeteria, a pair of young boys looking very engaged in their conversation lands in your rear point of vision. Eyes squinting, as if it was supposed to make you see better, you watch your best friend Jisung walk side by side with the accomplice of your moral enemy, Na Jaemin. One of them looks cool, dressed in all black, flashing a charming smile, and the other one is truly bubbly– jumping up and down, almost, as he giggles like a boy and adjusts the straps of his backpack. I won’t tell you which one’s which. Figure it out by yourself.
“We have a visitor today?” you ask as the two of them sit down at your usual table in the cafeteria, both of them smiling to themselves like two teenagers in love. The sight is an unusual one, to say the least, and you don’t know what it is about it that makes shivers down your spine. You just know that you kind of despise it.
“Yeah, Jaemin will be sitting with us today, if that’s okay,” Jisung smiles, looking at you with wide eyes full of excitement.
“Great, great,” you mumble, eyeing the boy with suspicion. Is this how he chose to execute your plan? You did tell him to be nice to Na Jaemin– you did even tell him to try to befriend him, if that was what he needed to do to get under his skin– but at the same time, you didn’t think that sitting together at lunch exactly two days after you told him to try to get some information from Jaemin was the right way to go around this.
See, you’d call it intuition. You know something’s wrong, you just don’t know what it is yet.
“So, what’s up, Jaemin?” you ask, poking the food on your table around with your fork, avoiding eye contact. You despise even sitting at the same table with one of Chenle’s friends– you feel like you’re suddenly in his circle, and that makes you gag a little into your mouth. While you need to be better at everything than this young businessman, you also need to stay away from everything that includes him– and yes, that means his friend circle as well. Who knows, Na Jaemin might even be a nice guy. You just don’t care enough to find out.
“Oh, a lot of exciting things are happening! Aren’t they, Jisung?” he smiles, kicking the clueless boy into his shin under the table in excitement, “the charity event, for example! We are preparing a lot of stuff with Chenle, and I think it’s gonna be a lot of fun. What about you two?”
Humming, you try to take the opportunity by its reached-out hands, smiling a little on the inside. “You’re doing a lot of things? What things exactly, may I ask?” you lock eyes with Jaemin, seeing his cunning smile.
“That’s a surprise, dear Y/N,” Jaemin mutters, the combination of his low voice and glimmering eyes making your stomach twist in anger and frustration. Of course he’s not that stupid– he won’t reveal what him and Chenle have planned for the event. He knows who you are. He knows how far you’re willing to go to completely destroy whatever the two of them have planned, just so you could win. And he won’t even dare to give you a single hint on his plans, because he’s intelligent and cunning.
“Is it…” you mutter under your breath, matching his competitive energy.
“Yeah,” he nods, turning to Jisung, “but maybe if you tell me first, I can share. Maybe we can brainstorm together, you know, that would be so much fun. Wouldn’t it, Jisung?” he asks your best friend, smiling sweetly at him.
You know damn well about the effect Na Jaemin has on people. He’s charming and sweet, magically alluring. He pulls everyone towards him, and he does it oh so easily. You’ve heard enough about how this man worked his magic spells on the girls in your grade, getting them on dates and then deciding he’s bored of them a few weeks later.
Now, you didn’t know that your best friend Park Jisung wasn’t immune to this effect. He was, in fact, very much not immune to it– he was just like every other girl in your class, just like all the poor freshmen girls that giggle at his stupid jokes in the cafeteria.
It was a saddening fact and an even more devastating sight to see your best friend fold under the eyes of the local charmer. You should’ve expected it, though– maybe this was the intuition you were supposed to listen to the very moment Na Jaemin showed up at your table in the cafeteria.
“I mean, I think that’s a good idea, maybe we can work together on it as well,” Jisung hums, eyes big never leaving the man as he nods to his manipulation tactics.
“See? Amazing! That’s exactly what I love to hear. So, what are you two planning?”
“Me and Y/N wanted to-”
“Jisung, shut up,” you coldly say, taking a hold of the situation and trying to save the day. Your poor best friend looks at you all lost, the furrow in his brows breaking your heart as you had to be rude to him for no reason at all– well, there is one, he just doesn’t know it yet.
“Why-”
“Why are you shutting your friend down like that? That’s not really nice of you, Y/N,” Jaemin says, locking eyes with you. The look in his orbs is knowing, your wavelength matching as he knows that you finally see right through his plan, that you know exactly what he’s trying to do– because you and Zhong Chenle are more alike than you both think, it seems. At least with your business tactics, after all.
“How about we work on our stuff alone, Na Jaemin? I don’t need Chenle’s help with anything,” you snap back, watching as the boy grins to himself and takes the red tray into his hands as he stands up from his place at your cafeteria table.
“Okay then,” he mutters, “have a nice day, you two.”
With his departure comes a loud whine from Park Jisung himself, earning himself a kick into the shin as you start your scolding session.
“What was that? Why were you so rude to him all of a sudden?”
“Jisung,” you coldly stare at him, making him silence, “I told you to befriend Na Jaemin to get out some information from him. I didn’t tell you to do the exact opposite and get exploited of all our plans instead!” you finish your little rant, breathing heavily as you notice the boy’s face clearing into understatement, smiling to himself a little in shame.
“Oh. I didn’t notice that…”
Park Jisung’s good at Math. Social interaction? Not so much… Maybe you should take things into your own hands and get some information yourself, instead of sending your most gullible friend on a mission that requires interaction with Na Jaemin…
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“I still don’t understand what we are doing here. I thought you didn’t like parties!” Jisung mourns as you two step your feet inside of a big mansion (or at least that’s how the house looks in your eyes), the loud music of the event that’s going on inside making your eardrums bubble along with the beat.
“Jisung,  you have so much to learn about this world…” you sigh, smiling at some of the girls you encounter on your way to the big kitchen, aiming straight for one of the red cups waiting for you on the kitchen island, all filled to the brim with various alcohol.
Turning around in your spot, two solo red cups in the palms of your hands, you offer one to your companion and grin at him. “Here, have this,” you smile, “I know you’re not a fan of vodka, but they don’t have anything else… Try not to die while I’m gone,” you note, earning yourself a confused look from the tall boy standing in front of you, listening to your commands.
“And where are you going? What’s going on-”
Sighing, you take the boy by his hand and drag him into the half-empty hall, the dim lightning making the whole encounter feel more secretive than it already was.
“Jisung, this is Zhong Chenle’s party,” you say, the sentence alone enough for the boy to instantly widen his eyes and part his lips agape in understatement, nodding at you. There’s a slight glint in his eyes that’s telling you that he doesn’t like where this is going, but you don’t really care about what he has to say right now. Your mind is set on one thing– winning, and that’s why you’re not afraid to do even the most desperate things of them all.
“Try to enjoy yourself,” you say, “but please don’t talk to Na Jaemin while we’re here, okay?”
“But Jaemin is nice-”
“Okay then, just don’t talk to him about the event, alright? They’ll use it against us if they know anything,” you mumble, downing the entirety of the red cup, scowling at the taste of your most hated alcohol. It’s like Zhong Chenle knew you were gonna appear– it’s like he wants to kill you. You wouldn’t even have to drink the poison that vodka is, but having some liquid courage in you could be useful in the crime you’re about to do right now.
“Try not to die,” Jisung resonates with the same words you’ve said to him just a few minutes prior, making you smile at him with a tense smile, hugging him goodbye before you go. Who knows, if Zhong Chenle catches you, you might not even make it out alive and see Jisung ever again. You might as well embrace your best friend for the last time.
Taking a deep breath in and out, you march up the stairs. The second floor of the house is not as crowded as the first one– the stairs are too steep to walk up if you’ve had too much to drink already, so it’s quite understandable. Looking around like a spy, you try hard to stay as natural as possible, not wanting to make anyone suspect you. Walking casually through the halls, you figure this is the best way to make everyone believe that you’re supposed to be here, that you were invited, and that you’re not just about to do a very, very bad thing.
Opening the first door to one of the rooms, you notice a king’s bed and flowery wallpaper. Closing it again, deciding that this isn’t the room you’re looking for, you continue your search on the second floor– opening the room to one of the bathrooms, and then what you presume is a guest room occupied with someone moaning loudly on the bed, making you shut the door behind you with disturbance.
Finally finding the right one– you assume so by the obnoxious Gucci hoodie sprawled on the chair right opposite of the door– you silently walk inside and close the door after you, making sure you’re alone and not watched by anyone. Trying the hardest to not make any sound, you walk through Zhong Chenle’s room and let your eyes roam across the furniture, looking for the thing you broke into his room for in the first place.
When you don’t find what you’re looking for anywhere at sight, you choose to walk over to his desk and open the first drawer. It’s full of textbooks and other notebooks, making you sigh and close it in disappointment, moving over to the one under it that surprises you with a stash of snacks and a single sock laying on the very top. Disgusted by the state of everything, you result in looking through the last drawer, wanting nothing more than to find the materials you saw Chenle write on the last meeting your charity event group had.
You needed to know what he had planned, so you could plan something bigger, better.
A stash of white paper appears in your eyes, the handwriting of none other than the owner of this house recognizable to you for various reasons (no, you never look at his exam papers over his shoulder just to make sure you did better than him. Never…), the title “charity” in a wobbly, light blue pen making your eyes light up. Bingo.
Excitement flowing through your veins, you scan over the paper and try to find any clues about the boy’s plan. The handwriting is a little hard to read, though, and so you squint your eyes, slowing down your breathing as you try to focus all of your attention to decoding the content in front of you–
–when the paper is swiftly pulled away from your grasp, making you gasp in shock and surprise. Turning your head around, you see the owner of the handwriting looking at you with a glare, making your body instinctively shoot to your feet and taking a step back.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, although he knows damn well what your previous actions were already.
“I’m- I was- I-” you stutter, your brain not allowing you to form coherent sentences.
He takes one step towards you, which leads in you taking another one back, repeating enough times for you to be pressed against the wall, shivers running down your spine either at the contact of the cold against your shoulders, or the look that Chenle gives you as he towers over you both physically and mentally, scoffing.
“Are you really that low? That desperate?” he spits, making your blood boil. You feel red in your face as the hint of his cologne makes its way up your nose, feeling both embarrassed and flustered by the whole encounter.
“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you peep, seeing the boy shake his head in disbelief, putting his hand up against the wall, close to where your head is resting.
“So what were you doing with this, then, huh?” he asks, showing you the paper in his other hand, waiting for you to answer, but not stepping away from you.
The truth is, you have no words in you to defend yourself. Suddenly, you’re left unarmed, empty and humiliated– but what’s worse, you’re left with no new information about the charity event, which means you’ve done all of this for absolutely nothing.
Seeing that you’re making no effort in answering the boy, he leans even closer to you, which makes your whole body tingle with what you presume is uncomfort, biting at your lower lip as your eyes lock with his mouth as he speaks to you. “Play fair, Y/N.”
Focusing on his plump, pink lips, you wonder if he uses a lip scrub or a lip balm– because there’s no way his lips are this luscious and beautiful, and so inviting…
“Get out of my room,” he orders, making your body unfreeze, feeling sweat drip down your back as you run out of the place, suddenly not having enough oxygen.
Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.
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“Jisung, we gotta do something,” you mourn, head in your hands as you sit at the table in your room, papers scattered all around you and a half-made banner laying on the carpet in the middle of the floor.
“We are doing something right now, Y/N,” Jisung mumbles with the paintbrush in his hand, leaning over the white sheet of paper, trying his hardest to not go over the lines you’ve scribbled onto the banner just a few minutes prior, ordering him to paint in the bubble letters of your banner.
Grunting, you turn around in your office chair, looking at the boy. He doesn’t seem as stressed as you feel right now– it’s only a week until the charity event is supposed to take place and you really, really don’t want to be thinking about how badly it will go if you don’t think of something big at this exact moment. You feel defenseless. You have zero information about what Chenle’s about to do, so you can’t get prepared to do something better. Jisung didn’t manage to get any information out of Jaemin, and while you were able to find Chenle’s plans in his room, he took the paper out of your hands and cornered you against the wall before you even managed to read a single sentence.
You’re selling cupcakes. Jisung said his mum will help and chip in more baked goods, since she’s a good cook, but you doubt that cookies and pastry will help you win the first place. This sounds like something Renjun and Jeno would do– and you hate to put yourself onto their level, because they’re not the greatest when it comes to business. You doubt you’ll beat Hyuck and Yangyang’s condom stand either. There’s a lot of guys at your university that will rather go for a condom than a cupcake.
“No, Jisung, you don’t understand. Cupcakes won’t win. We won’t win. Zhong Chenle and his big head will win, and that will be absolutely fucking infuriating. I won’t let that happen,” you exclaim, huffing.
“But you don’t even know what they’re going to sell! What if it’s really bad? We still have a chance to win,” Jisung smiles at you, trying to encourage you.
Bless him. Even when seeing you so annoyed and having to deal with your snappy attitude every day, since the nerves always get the worst of you, he still tries to be your rock and help you through it all. His words might not help you win and they for sure do not help you calm down, but he’s trying– and that’s the important part.
“Chenle’s the son of the wealthiest business man in this country, Jisung. He has winning in his fucking genes,” you roll your eyes, “and that’s why I need to think of something right now or else I’ll physically combust.”
Jisung just sighs at you, not really knowing how else to help you. He’s trying his hardest– and you appreciate it, despite the fact that your actions suggest otherwise– and this is not even his battle. He’s okay with being mediocre– he’s just cursed with the burden of his friend always trying their hardest to be an overachiever. It’s not healthy, but he doesn’t feel like he can do anything about it, really.
“Maybe I can… Maybe I can tell everyone that if I win, I’ll do a giveaway with the iPad. I’m sure that will lure some people in,” you mumble, fixing your eyes onto the poster of Ross Lynch stuck on your bedroom door, lost in thought.
Jisung looks at you with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what’s going on inside of that brain of yours. The scheming look on your face doesn’t look the nicest, but he won’t tell you that in fear of being beaten up on the ground.
“That’s…”
“An amazing idea? I know, right?” you grin, looking at your friend with euphoria running through your veins.
“Y/N, I don’t think-”
“Bingo!” you yelp, eyes glimmering with joy and excitement, “We are about to give everyone who buys two cupcakes a lottery ticket and then, if we win, we randomly pick someone and give them the iPad! This is a brilliant idea!!”
No amount of effort can make you stop now. Jisung won’t even try anymore.
“I’m going to work on it right now. This is perfect!” you grin.
Jisung sighs.
He kind of wanted that iPad…
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Sitting in the library, your laptop open as you try hard to focus on studying after the frantic preparations for the charity event, your eyes are stuck to the screen, starting to hurt a little from how hard you’re concentrating. The world around you is a mere blur, the background noises being no distraction to your brain as you type away on your keyboard from time to time, taking notes.
You like to study alone. You never really got the magic of studying in groups, since every time you tried it with Jisung, you two just grew distracted and didn’t know how to focus on your studies, too busy gossiping and talking about anything and everything. So to go here like this, in the evening, the university library has become your safe haven.
When suddenly, there are footsteps landing into your ear, the noise making you lose your focus for a moment when the owner of them decides to sit in the space next to you, making you swiftly look around and see who dared to pay you a visit when you’re studying.
Met with the gaze of none other than Zhong Chenle himself, you suddenly shrink in size and bashfully look away from the male. You’re not used to the feeling of embarrassment in your veins, not used to how you feel pathetic in his eyes and how you really want to disappear from the face of the earth every time you notice him registering your existence. It’s all your fault anyway, for snooping around in his room and being caught, but you’re not ready to admit that to yourself just yet, even though the reality is slowly catching up on you.
“Hi,” he greets, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. A conversation between you and Chenle is a rare sight– you just like to jab at each other and scream curses each other’s way– and starting one with a greeting is even more unusual for the two of you. It’s like both of you lose all sense of formality whenever you’re around each other– only the hatred remains.
“Hello,” you mutter, nervously scratching your forearm. Not daring to meet his eyes, you suddenly feel like he has something above you– the reality of catching you red handed, the very moment at his party. You won’t admit it out loud, but it’s the most defeating thing you’ve ever felt in your whole entire life, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to recover from it. Never in a thousand years did you expect to be met with the fact that Zhong Chenle is above you in something, but it came down to it, and you don’t know what to do with this information.
Your posture screams hesitance. Not knowing how to act around him, you refrain from acting at all– you don’t think you’re in the position to be rude to him anymore, for it would make you seem even more petty. His presence makes you nervous, the tingling sensation in your whole body and the heat you feel rising to your cheeks making you the most uncomfortable you’ve felt ever since you were cornered up against the wall of Chenle’s room last weekend.
“What’s up?” he asks, the casual tone of his voice confusing you even further. Taking one short look at him, you try to scan his features and somehow find out his true intentions. The boy has an inviting smile on his face– making your heartbeat quicken with a detail you choose not to pay any attention to– and his eyes are soft, opposed to the stone cold look he usually has reserved for you.
“Um… not much, ‘m just studying, I guess…” you mumble, too confused to pay attention to just how lost and puppy-like you must look right in this moment. Kicking your foot up and down under the table, a nervous fixation to ground yourself, you await his next steps.
The boy hums in acknowledgement. If he noticed your state, at least he didn’t mention it– a fact you were grateful for. Cracking your knuckles in the silence of the library, you forget how to keep up a conversation– or you just never learned how to keep up a conversation with Zhong Chenle, of all people. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, when he just takes out his stuff from his backpack and starts working on his homework.
Watching him for a while, you clear your throat and just decide to get it over with. You don’t like the quiet tension in the air, wanting it to disappear, so you just face it with a confident face (well, the most confident you can master up right now). “What are you doing here?”
Your rival looks up at you from his textbook with furrowed brows, shrugging. “Studying.”
“Yeah,” you blink, “but… why are you studying next to me?”
“Is this spot not free?” he asks, obviously teasing you with how the very well-known shiteating grin slowly starts to appear on his face.
“I- I mean it- it’s free, but-”
“Then I don’t see a reason why I shouldn’t study here,” he shrugs, momentarily pointing his look back to his textbook, driving you absolutely insane. Did he lose his mind? Was he having a fever?
“Chenle-”
“Look,” he says, looking up from the textbook again, turning to you with his full body– while also bumping into your knee with his for a second, making you jolt in a weird sense of electricity, “I know we’re not really on the best terms, but I think I’m done with being petty and acting like a child. Seeing that we’re kind of similar, in a way, I think we could even make good friends, so that’s what I’m trying to do here,” he says, smiling at you with that friendly expression he only reserves for his closest friends, making you feel light-headed. Are you having a fever?
“I- I don’t think I understand,” you mutter out, your expression lost. What was going on? Why did your rival suddenly want to be friends with you? After you searched through his room at one of his parties? You felt like you were having a weird dream.
“Let’s just… focus on our own projects for the charity event and forget about the rivalry. What do you say?” he asks, the glint in his eyes taking you off-guard.
What does one even say to that? You’ve spent your whole university years hating this boy, all for being too good at things you always wanted to be exceptional at. The rivalry made you so crazy you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore in the actions you were taking, and while it all felt worth it at the time, to see Chenle himself not even taking it that seriously made you feel even more embarrassed. Was this all just a one-sided battle?
Blinking a few times, you notice the boy out-stretching his hand for you to grip, the handshake a silent seal of the war between the two of you ending. “Friends?”
Gasping for air, you hesitantly reach for his hand, too lost in your own brain and thought spirals to even register what was going on around you. The contact of his skin on your burned, but you shook it nonetheless. “I- I wouldn’t say friends, exactly…”
“Acquaintances on good terms, then, got it,” he grins, seeing your empty eyes and the mess in your brain at the very moment. Suddenly, you feel a hand ruffle your hair, making you jump up in shock. “I’m sure you’ll do great, Y/N,” he grins, making you turn back to your homework and– although to no use– try to focus on the assignment again.
Feeling heat rising to your cheeks and your hands shake with nerves, the rest of the afternoon comes by like a blur.
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Mixing the batter in one of the big bowls Jisung’s mum provided you with in their spacious kitchen, you are too lost in thought to even sing along to your favorite baking playlist your best friend put on to make the atmosphere lighter, despite the tension of the upcoming charity event rising. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy, when he cautiously approaches the matter.
“What’s gotten you so weird?” he asks, opening the oven and taking out the cupcake tray that’s been sitting in there, prepared for your baking session, since yesterday evening.
“I’m not weird,” you mumble, but don’t even meet his eyes. That’s an instant hint.
“Y/N, you’re not even singing along to One Direction right now, of course something’s up,” he says to prove his point, seeing you sigh and look up to the ceiling for a moment, seemingly debating on finally talking about what’s bugging you the most these days.
“Chenle approached me the other day… to make amends? I guess?” you mumble, shrugging.
Your best friend takes the information in, analyzing what you just uttered out of your lips. Are you sure you weren't dreaming? He wants to ask you if you’re sure it wasn’t all an image of your imagination, but he choses against it as he steps closer to you, scanning your face for any signs of mania.
“He did that after catching you looking through his stuff?” he clarifies, seeing you nod.
“That’s strange.”
“Isn’t it?” you ask, still not believing what you saw at the library the other day.
Jisung hums, furrowing his eyebrows to get his brain cells to work better, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Well, maybe he was sincere, however strange it might sound… He realized the little war you two have is childish and wanted both of you to have fun,” he shrugs, mirroring the exact words Chenle said at the library. Is this really so easy? Is this the final conclusion? The end of everything? You couldn’t just believe that.
“I don’t know…” you hum, moving to drape the cupcake batter into the tray, ready to bake it for tomorrow's event. Jisung helps you with the cleaning-up process, not wanting the burnt batter stuck on the tray to make the whole house smell like forest fire, wiping the excess away with tissues. After you’re done, he plops the tray into the oven and sets a timer for 15 minutes, resting his tall figure against the kitchen counter.
“Maybe you can… quit with the iPad giveaway thing? I mean, now that you don’t have to win, you can forget about that part. I think it’s kind of against the rules as well, since it’s a hint of false advertising? You’re supposed to win by selling the goods, and not by bribing them with an iPad, so I don’t think professor Lee will like that,” he mutters hesitantly, seeing your mouth open agape, shaking your head in disapproval.
“Absolutely not. Just because Zhong Chenle hit his head or something, I won’t back away from this fight,” you sternly say.
“Y/N, I promise you it’s not a good idea. You’re just going to get in trouble-”
“I’m not! It’s totally legal, and if I really win, I’m ready to give the iPad away, if that’s what I’m gonna have to do, Jisung.”
A heavy sigh escapes his lips at this, shaking his head. Yeah, maybe he is petty– maybe he just wants the iPad for himself, but at the same time, what he said was right. This wasn’t a fair game and he doesn’t think it will get approved by your business professor, no matter how hard you try to back it up.
“Life would be so much easier if you constantly didn’t try to impress Zhong Chenle,” Jisung mutters, making blood boil in you, anger felt at the tips of your fingertips.
“Take that back. I am not trying to impress him,” you coldly say, snapping.
“Yeah, sure,” Jisung rolls his eyes, “every single time, it’s all I have to be better than Chenle, I have to win against Chenle, I have to beat him in this and this and that… to me, it just seems like you want him to be impressed with your abilities, because you like him.”
Gasping, you catch the edge of the kitchen counter to steady yourself. “I do not like him. I absolutely despise him, that is,” you grit your teeth, trying to convince your best friend…. and maybe yourself as well.
Jisung just hums, mocking you. The look on your face is enough of a confirmation to him, he doesn’t have to fight you anymore. Besides, the looks you give the boy are surely not you trying to get his business strategy. Not in the gym class, when your rival is a little sweaty and overly-enthusiastic about basketball, at least.
“I still think you should stop with the iPad thing, though,” he says, crouching down to the oven to check up on the cupcakes.
Angrily stomping, you reach towards your backpack on the ground, taking out your papers for the charity event so you can quickly calculate how many batches of the batter you’re going to have to make to fill your goal. Looking through the stack of papers, seeing worksheets from English class and old exam papers that you should’ve thrown out long ago, you disagree with your partner. “Absolutely not, I think-” you stop in your tracks, looking through the papers, still not finding the ones you’re looking for.
Leaning back towards your bag, you stumble through it, still not finding your charity event plans and documents. Stress rising inside of you, knowing too well that you always have the papers with you and there’s no way you left it at home, the reality dawns on you, making you scream in despair. Of course Zhong Chenle’s sudden amends were a little weird.
“That motherfucker stole my charity event plans while I was too busy freaking out over his charming smile!” you yelp out.
Jisung snickers at the state of you. He called it.
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When you’re 6 years old, you go to school for the first time. You manage to make every single teacher in your elementary school gasp in amazement as you tell them that you already know how to read and that you don’t need help with signing your textbooks– you know how to write your name as well. As you grow, you only get more intellectual; being put into special level classes, being told you were the best pupil out of the whole school, being constantly praised and made to believe that you are, simply put, much better than everyone else your age.
When you’re 19 years old, you get to university. The gifted child in you starts slowly dying out with the pressure of assignments and the realization that maybe, your whole life, you’ve been lied to and you’re not as extraordinary as everyone told you you were. At 19, you meet Zhong Chenle– the model student, the social butterfly, the teacher’s pet– and suddenly, he’s your enemy. You promise yourself to always be better than him. That itself was your only goal.
When you’re almost 20, standing in the enormous gym of your university, looking over at Zhong Chenle’s stand with fast food and the giveaway tickets for a brand new iPad being given with every purchase above 5 dollars, the flood of people gladly giving money to the man dressed in a neat black suit, looking like the businessman he, at heart, truly is, you finally admit that you’re losing.
The cupcakes stay abandoned at the trays, no one paying attention to all the effort you and Jisung gave into the charity event. If you really think about it, it’s kind of unfair– you did play fair, despite your previous antics, and you did everything in your power to raise as much money as you could. Looking at the lonely pastries, you feel defeated.
“Want one?” you ask Jisung, pointing towards the ones covered with pink icing– the exact ones he wanted to eat yesterday evening instead of dinner, after several hours of baking– seeing the boy furrow his brows in confusion.
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat them until the event ends,” he says, watching over your dull look.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it’s over for us anyways, so I don’t really care anymore,” you proclaim as you take a bite of the cupcake, not even paying attention to the icing smearing all over your face.
The boy next to you only pouts at your argument, not used to seeing you so discouraged. He can’t say you’re not right– hell, he does have eyes and common sense, he can see the row of people waiting for Zhong Chenle’s fries from McDonald’s and pizza from Papa John’s– but still, he expected more determination from your ambitious persona.
“Y/N,” he whines, “it’s okay. Maybe we can still win,” he lies through his teeth, trying to cheer you up.
“Jisung, look at Chenle’s stand.”
“I am looking.”
“Do you still think we can win?”
“No,” he says, “but I thought my white lies could make you feel better.”
“Well, they can’t.”
“Okay, just eat your cupcake, will you?” he mutters, sighing at the state of you. Some freshmen girls come by to buy a cute little cupcake, but the few dollars in your basket right now won’t make any difference to the money moves your moral enemy is making.
“I tried so hard, Jisung,” you mourn with a full mouth, letting your emotions run free, “I tried so hard, and I still got nothing. This is so embarrassing, you can’t even imagine. I was supposed to be the winner, I was supposed to have the masterplan,” you complain, seeing Jisung sympathetically, although a little absent-mindedly, nod at all your points and arguments.
“It’s okay, Y/N, you can’t win all the time. It’s not embarrassing,” he encourages you, slyly taking a cupcake off the tray and biting into it, still acting cautious in case you decide to change your mind and revoke your approval to eat your goods.
“It is! You can’t imagine how defeating this feels.”
“I can see it on your face, sweetheart. Maybe if you stop frowning…?” Jisung mumbles, making you glare at him momentarily, his insides loosening up a little from the image of taking your mind off the issue at hand for just a few seconds.
“We have the last few minutes until the charity event is over!” you hear the voice of professor Lee through a megaphone she borrowed from the drama club, making you grunt. “Everyone, the sale is over at 2pm! Count your money after and bring it to me.”
Sighing, you don’t even try to sell any last-minute cupcakes anymore, opting to gather the money you’ve raised today. Quickly counting it and finding a scrap of paper to scribble down the amount (which is a sad, poor 20 dollars, if any of you were interested), you put the money into a zip-lock back and walk over to your professor, handing it in.
“Why did you rush it? Maybe someone would want-”
“Jisung, just… leave it. I’m over this already,” you say, sitting back next to your best friend, seeing him pout– mirroring your saddened expression– suddenly making you feel bad for impacting the mood of your business partner so much. “But hey, we had fun, didn’t we?”
Jisung looks at you in disbelief, breaking out into a grin at your poor attempt at easing the mood. “I guess we did, yeah,” he notes, “I know I did, although my stomach kind of still hurts from eating all the left-over icing from yesterday.”
“I told you there were raw eggs in that, what if you get salmonella, for fuck’s sake?” you sigh, shaking your head at him.
“It’s not salmonella! I just don’t handle sugar well-”
Your conversation is ended soon with a noise of a gong, signaling that the charity fundraiser was now over and every single stand should stop selling their goods. Looking around, you see the gym slowly empty out, leaving behind only the business majors that participated in the event, all counting up their raised money.
“Dude, I think we got around 150,” you hear Yangyang gasp from the stand next to yours, making you sigh with the information that even the condom stand raised more money than your cupcakes that were baked with care and love (and maybe a little bit of spite for Zhong Chenle. You can’t see it on them, though, so you guess it’s fine).
The next events come by in a whim– everyone hands in the money they raised at the fundraiser, one by one, gossipping about how much they’ve earned and how good they’re doing. Throughout the whole process, your eyes are glued to one person in particular– the one you were competing with in the first place.
Zhong Chenle moves through the place like he owns it, like it’s his own prestigious branch of his successful business, dressed formally, now shrugging off the suit jacket, leaving him only in a stylish white button-down and black pants, leaving you gasping for air. Grinning to his companion, Na Jaemin– although dressed similarly, but not leaving the same impact– you can only imagine how much he’s shit talking you right now, laughing maniacally at the fact that he stole your plan and won with it, taking all the credit and being the best yet again. It makes your stomach turn and twist in angry knots, feeling stupid each time your eyes flash down to his toned forearms when he moves away the things from the little stand, cleaning it up; for if you would’ve paid less attention to the man with the name Zhong Chenle, you wouldn’t feel half as defeated as you do right now.
“Stop ogling him,” Jisung teases, making you grunt.
“I’m trying to kill him with my glare.”
“I think you confused it with heart-eyes, sweetie-”
“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’ll choke you with your favorite pink cupcakes,” you smile at him innocently, making the boy shut up instantly, fearing for his own life.
Professor Lee triumphally stands in the middle of the gym, looking around at everyone. The proud smile on her face tells you that the other stands most likely made more money than yours did, earning the charity a solid amount of money that your university doesn’t have to be ashamed of. The only thing is that you are ashamed– of yourself, though. You thought you’d do better than you did, but you guess you have to come to terms with the fact that you can’t always be the winner.
“Everyone,” the professor starts her speech, “I am really grateful for every single one of you standing here right now. I want to thank you all for your effort, and I also will be grading everyone with an A for this event, because I can see that all of you truly worked your hardest. Now, though, is the time to announce the team that earned the most money, and therefore, won the little competition I made to motivate you.”
Looking around at everyone, you suddenly feel like you’re watching Eurovision, waiting for the points to be added up until 2am, slowly losing your motivation to keep watching further. Professor Lee smiles before she turns to the stand expected to win, making everyone’s suspicions correct.
“The team that made the most money, ladies and gentlemen, is Zhong Chenle and Na Jaemin,” she proclaims, making the boys scream in joy, jumping up and down in their places as they rush into a hug. They look like their hard work has paid off after 20 years of effort, however, the only work they did was steal your plan and buy some fast food… pathetic, really. Seeing the wide grin on Chenle’s face, you find yourself rolling your eyes, especially when your make eye contact with him and quickly force yourself to look away. “However,” the professor continues, making the boy’s faces fall.
“I was met with the information that you two violated the rules,” she says, making Chenle furrow his brows in confusion.
“H-how-”
“You worked with false advertisement, which, as I already said, was against the rules of the whole event.”
“How was this false advertisement?” he asks, getting all defensive. Something inside of you lights up at the sight of him all frustrated, but you wouldn’t say it out loud, for you think Jisung would accuse you of being a sadist.
“What you were supposed to be selling was the food, although I don’t agree with it being store-bought either, but I’m willing to ignore that fact,” she explains, “but what you did instead was sell tickets to your iPad giveaway, which was not in the business plan you’ve given me a few days ago.”
“But professor Lee, it’s not like that-”
“Therefore, you will not get the iPad, and the price goes to the second place, which is Lee Yangyang and Lee Donghyuck. Congratulations, boys.”
The duo on your right fist bumps and screams at the top of their lungs, making everyone in the university gym scowl with the sharp pain in their ears. Now, this wasn’t exactly the outcome you were expecting… you can’t say you hate it, though. Turning to Jisung, ignoring the yells of despair uttered out of the mouth of Zhong Chenle, complaining that condoms weren’t technically allowed as the product for sale, you hug your best friend with stars in your eyes, tugging him closer. He was right with his previous arguments, after all. Not that you'd admit it to him, since you're still super petty, but you're glad you didn't proceed with your innitial plan nonetheless.
“Woah, there,” Jisung gasps as he hugs you back, “we didn’t win, Y/N, though…”
“I know,” you hum into his chest, satisfied.
“So…”
“I’m just happy Zhong Chenle isn’t the winner,” you grin, pulling away from the boy, ready to celebrate the win of the two dumbasses in your business class. You never thought you’d see the day when Chenle is beaten by a duo that rarely attends the class, but you’re more happy than ever to let them indulge in the joy right now.
Hearing someone clear their throat behind you, you turn around. Surprised to see Chenle there, your smile freezes at your face, making you look like you’ve just been paralysed, earning yourself a kick into your shin from Park Jisung sitting at the chair next to you before he excuses himself and leaves for a bathroom break.
“Hi,” you greet as you see Chenle sheepishly look at you, his hands in the pockets of his pants.
“You got me there, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief, “I didn’t take you for such a mastermind,” he adds, making you confused.
“What?”
“The plan in your bag… you had it there because you knew I’d take it, didn’t you? You were trying to make me lose all along,” Chenle adds, finally bringing clarity into your brain. He’s not right– you were just too stupid to realise the consequences of your future actions in that moment, but now you’re glad the universe worked in your favor and you were too gullible to trust your moral enemy in the moment. You may have been weak back then, but now, you’re the winner out of the two of you– and you can’t say it doesn’t make your ego rise to enormous heights.
“Y-yeah…” you hum, not realizing your expression gives it away almost immediately, bringing Chenle the last hint of confidence he needs before he takes his next step towards you. The knowledge that you didn’t plan to sabotage him, and that this was self-sabotage all along, makes the boy content– you may hate him, but not as much.  The fact that you were so out of your mind to let him take your plans right under your nose must be a hint of something.
“So…” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “what I said back then in the library still stands, though,” he says, chuckling. “I know I kind of lied back then, but now I mean it. I don’t… I don’t really want us to fight anymore, and I actually think the two of us would make a great pair- I mean, friends, so…”
Blinking at him a few times, feeling heat rising to your cheeks, you feel like you’re having another fever dream. There’s no competition right now, no business strategies, no exams to be taken. So… the intentions behind his words must be truthful, right?
“Um, I…” you start, but end up gasping like fish on sand, at a loss for words. Flickering your eyes from his to your feet and back to his shy smile, you feel like your brain is overheating. Curse hormones, really… it can’t be anything other than that. There’s no other reason why your brain keeps contemplating if this is him asking you out, and no reason why you so desperately want that accusation to be true.
“We can hang out after this, if you want,” Chenle suggests, rocking a little in his place, “with- with Jaemin and Jisung as well, since they seemed to get along…” he adds, the hint of blush creeping onto his cheeks making you want to scream into your pillow with overwhelmingness.
“That would be great,” you say, seeing the boy nod at your words, relief visibly flashing behind his eyes.
“Okay, great,” he smiles, “I’ll just get my things and I’ll find you later?”
“Sounds good,” you nod, your brain turning into a foggy mess.
Watching him turn on his heels and walk towards Jaemin standing on the other side of the gym, grinning at his friend with a suggestive wiggle to his eyebrows, you zone out. Is this your reality? Did you shift into another universe where the two of you don’t want to kill each other? How did you even move on from those emotions?
“You okay?” Jisung suddenly emerges from behind you, feeling shocked at the sight of you completely unfocused and still in your movements.
“Mhmm,” you peep, taking deep breaths.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” you nod, turning to your friend. “Do you wanna hang out with Jaemin later?”
You meet Zhong Chenle at 19, hating everything about him with burning passion, despising the way he always made you feel challenged and on your toes. He shakes with your word, turning you into a competitive mess, always trying your best to be better than him at everything, just so you could see the defeated look on his face and get acknowledgement.
When you’re almost 20, you realize that a hint of what you always wanted was acknowledgement from Zhong Chenle.
It might not solve all your problems, but maybe turning less competitive is a start.
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davekat-sucks · 3 months
Note
where are people getting the idea that vaggie is a canon lesbian from? didn’t viviziepop say there are no lgbt characters because she claimed she didn’t want to offend anyone but there are also no anti lgbt characters for that same reason?
There is technically LGBT characters in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss universe. Vivziepop confirmed it herself for the sake of diversity. Anti-LGBT sinners are also still around. The only people that are confirmed to cease existing after death are only Nazis, pedophiles, and racists. Those three types of sinners would never be sent to Hell and instead, their souls are gone for good. Vivziepop confirmed that she and Charlie are a couple on a charity stream. Faustisse, an old illustrator who worked on the Hazbin Hotel comics, also confirmed in a deleted stream that Vaggie is a lesbian. Vivzie said that Charlie and Vaggie are like Jack and Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. But I think Viv forgets there's a bit more going on with Sally's character that Vaggie can't really connect besides surface level of being a loner girl who tries to be the voice of reason to the idealistic leader. Like for one, Sally had been built and tied down by Doctor Finklestein. She would drug him to try and sneak out whenever she gets the chance. Even if she barely made any other friends or talk to other residents, she was more content on having freedom. Vaggie isn't this when she is in the position as a hotel manager, where she has to work alongside and socialize other people in the hotel, staff and guests of the hotel. Vaggie doesn't even revel going out by herself or doing her own thing WITHOUT Charlie attached to her hip. She is now a free angel, but is seemed to tied herself down to her lover and nothing else. That is also another thing. Sally had no choice but to go behind Jack's back if he couldn't listen to her. She had to take her own measures to get things right. The only closest thing Vaggie had done without letting her girlfriend know, is making a vague deal with Alastor. But even then, she could at least do more on her own if she disagrees with some of Charlie's ideas and methods if every time she tries to talk to her and she doesn't listen. Also, Jack loves and embraces Halloween as a dark and spooky holiday. He wants to make sure it is full of scares and terror that everyone in the town will love. Charlie is against what Hell stands for, even as she is ruler. She is made to be the polar opposite for the sake of Disney Princess-theme. Jack even has respect from all the townsfolk while nobody in Hell gives two shits about her, even with her title as Princess of Hell.
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atmilliways · 10 months
Text
Wrong On The Money (6-8)
parts 6, 7, & 8 of ?? | 908 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
Steve almost wants to laugh, wants to correct Eddie, except he’s standing outside of a gay club at one in the morning. . . . Robin wouldn’t care. Other people would, but if Eddie is trying to mess with him then he’s picked the wrong forward to cover, and Steve is tired.
6.
Steve almost wants to laugh, wants to correct Eddie, except he’s standing outside of a gay club at one in the morning. Robin wouldn’t care that he’s here, beyond being a little jealous—they’ve been talking a lot lately as Steve slowly turns his own sexuality this way and that in his head, considering. (So far, he’s decided that attention from other guys doesn’t bother him. The rest is still TBD.)
Robin wouldn’t care. Other people would, but if Eddie is trying to mess with him then he’s picked the wrong forward to cover, and Steve is tired.
So he lets Eddie set a time and place to meet and . . . talk about the blackmail in detail, or whatever. Given what Steve knows, it’ll probably be for money. Which.
Well. This can help, right? He does want to help, if only for Dustin’s sake, and Eddie doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would feel comfortable taking charity. And yeah, Steve hasn’t ever met his uncle, but it’s still saving a life.
Most of his Family Video paycheck goes towards food, car, and hair care products, but he has some savings. He can figure it out, make it work with careful budgeting and a bit more of telling the kids no.
The encounter is over. Steve gets into the car and turns the engine on to warm up with the words pretty boy ringing in his ears. He grabs his gym bag out of the back seat, digging out the sweater he knew he’d want but didn’t want to risk taking off and losing in the warmth of the club. And somehow all he can think about is Eddie dressed up for a night out of his own. Tighter jeans with more rips, and chains than usual, a virtually shredded t-shirt over mesh beneath his ever-present leather and denim vest combo, the wild curly hair, the eyeliner. It had all been a little distracting in the moment, which leaves Steve thinking hard about his whole TBD thing.
Kinda weird to think the guy blackmailing you is hot, but he’s lived through stranger things than this.
7.
When they meet the next day, Eddie does ask for money. Kind of a lot. But Steve had made sure to bring cash, just in case, and presses a wad of bills into Eddie’s hand without qualm or hesitation. “How’s that for now, Munson? I can get more to you in a few days.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, Harrington,” Eddie replies with a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Maybe he’s conflicted about doing this? Steve doesn’t know what being backed into this kind of a corner might feel like, but he has some imagination. Despite what his English teachers always claimed. And he was an asshole in high school, so this is like. Penance, or whatever. He doesn’t hold it against the guy, not really.
“Uh, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, in no particular hurry to walk away. He called out of work, so he has nothing to do for the rest of the day. This whole meeting had gone quicker than he’d expected, with a straightforward total given for the price of not outing him to his ‘girlfriend’ and minimal haggling over a plan to pay in installments. “Hey. . . . Any chance I could get some grass, too?”
It’ll stretch his budget more than is probably smart. Sometimes he needs it, though, on the nights when he wakes up sweating, the words ‘I work for Scoops Ahoy’ cooling on his lips.
Eddie eyes him up and down, indifferent. (He looks good like this too, Steve realizes, without the eyeliner and shit. Christ.) “It’ll come out of what you just paid me, but sure.”
Steve is pretty sure there's a steep markup. He gets a baggie and forty bucks knocked off his payment, but hey, that’s penance for you.
8.
It’s hard not to feel like a piece of shit when hypocritically blackmailing a hypocrite, but it’s working. Now that Eddie can afford the medication, his uncle is looking better by the day and the doctors are starting to sound optimistic.
Wayne feels better too, Eddie can tell. Not enough to go back to work—though at some point he might have to come up with a plan for tying the old man down to keep him from doing just that, the stubborn old codger. But enough to ask where the money is coming from.
“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie says for the hundredth time. “Bottom line is, I’ve got this.”
Wayne’s eyes narrow, sharp as ever. Sharper, even, with how gaunt he looks these days. “Seriously, Ed, what'd you sell for this kinda cash? Not yourself I hope.”
“What? No,” Eddie yelps, hopping back with a little exaggerated pearl-clutching motion. “Jesus, Wayne, I’m not that kind of boy!”
His flailing antics get a laugh out of the man, followed by only a short stretch of hacking cough. (It’s getting better, it’s getting better, it’s getting better—that’s Eddie’s mantra these days.) 
Eddie is just glad he believes him on that. Hooking would be stupid, even stupider with the current political climate and disease going around, but he’s pretty sure Wayne would lose his shit if he knew what’s actually going on. They’ve had too many talks about standing up to bullies without becoming one over the years for Eddie to bullshit himself about that.
The important thing is, Wayne’s getting better.
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bijoumikhawal · 4 months
Text
Bite the Hand that Starves You: Chapter Three
Fic as of this chapter contains: discussion of abortion, references to drug use, intersex and trans characters, torture/graphic violence, colonialism and its aftermath, implied sexual violence,
Heads up: this chapter has some of Garak ruminating on his experience with bioessentialism, sex, and gender in a society that I think is pretty fucked up in approach to the topic and not friendly to those who perform gender "incorrectly", and I don't think Garak necessarily has an internal understanding separate from that even if he's uncomfortable with it. In general this fic is complicated because Garak is canonically effeminate and that compounds with the themes here in a new way (+ a lot of people I think would view the "progressive" thing as Garak shedding his effeminacy, which I find insulting from my own perspective as someone effeminate who is a "stereotype").
There is also a pair of scenes where it is ambigious if consent to sex was given or not, but it is not graphic. The first is when Barkan comes into the bathroom with Garak, the second is the scene after Julian and Dr. Ammshah schedule Garak's appointment. There is another with a violent undertone, which begins with "Garak had had an odd nightmare".
Kardasi: Peikirvi - would translate to something like "concubine", specifically refers to an individual that socially presents as male, and was assigned such at birth, but can carry children (and often could impregnate someone else), who is legally bound to someone. Usually this is done with a pre-existing couple who has fertility issues.
Cheoche and cheyeda: could be translated as something like "patron" and "vassal". "Che" in Kardasi refers to charity, which is viewed as a duty to society rather than a choice made of good will. More specifically, a cheoche is a wealthy family/clan who takes on the affairs of a poorer or weaker one (the cheyeda), legally binding the two together for several generations. This can be typified in three ways: the cheyeda being a family who was once great and has become destitute, the family of a beloved artist, or a family of the "service class". For the latter, having a cheoche often provides a stable income, food, housing, and better schooling and training. Some cheyeda even have inheritance rights from their cheoche. However, while the relationship is glorified as going above and beyond ones duty, it is a system rife with abuse. The Tain and Garak families are bound this way.
--
There had been a time, just before his age of emergence, when Garak had stared in the mirror trying to see just what was different from other boys and him. He wasn't the sort who was recognized for his unique position at birth- it had come later, at a milestone medical exam.
He hardly acknowledged the mirror as he exited the shower now, quickly pulling on a robe before the water could chill him.
He'd combed and squeezed the water out of his hair before stepping out- Julian had gotten him a warming tile for his pomade, which he'd set up before stepping in. The scent of warm wax filled the room, along with the essence of herbs purported as beneficial.
It was a frivolous thing. Garak had a pull out stove for making tea that he could warm the tin on just as well. But it did make his routine a little faster.
He dug his fingers into the pale green liquid, hot enough to be just this side of uncomfortable. As he tugged it through his hair, he could already see it resolidifying, leaving his fingers cool again.
Even after the diagnosis, his recategorization had been inconsistent, even private, which was his value. Would he be here at all if he was not recognized for passing between spheres? Women were not well suited to outside work, in the immediate sense and the sense of borders. Garak was not a woman, but he filled the role of one for the sake of biology, as well as the role of a man. His primary root in manhood meant that was how he passed through the world. The secondary root ruled how he had to live once the doors were closed.
It prickled along the back of his neck, the practicality of it all. Would he even know his own body if it wasn't so?
He tried not to think about the whole matter. He always had carried on that way; he had redoubled his efforts after… after his exile. He was quite good at it.
Most of the time. He'd been too good, lately.
He had behaved differently from other boys.
No one who knew commented upon it, precisely, as related. But it was… a trope, in some ways. In general, what one was born as influenced the behavior, if everything was well with the mind. When one behaved differently from other boys, you could assume two things: madness, or two roots. Because of his privacy, the former was often assumed. Until after Romulus, that is...
He'd run a comb through his hair again once he was done, to make sure the pomade was distributed evenly.
He clicked off the warming tile.
And if you need someone- to talk to, to help you, to-
Garak sighed, tied his robe tighter, and opened a comms line on his terminal.
---
Garak had had an odd nightmare, after Barkan had essentially proposed, the weeks between then and the ceremony (he had to inform his household, and the military, of his new addition, after all).
He was in his old bedroom again, down in the basement. That was how he knew it was a dream.
Someone was in the room with him. His limbs, eyelids, blanket, were all so heavy, he could not look to see who, or reach out, but he knew. Who else would slip into bed with him as he slept?
Tains weight shifted on the mattress. For whatever reason- the shift made Garak realize why his limbs felt heavy. They were manacled- securing him to the bed.
"Peikirvi don't get a dowry or dower. But I deserve compensation, Elim. I'm giving up something very important, after all."
It was- an old custom. Between a cheoche and service class cheyeda- other cheyeda, they had no such custom, for the cheoche demand compensation before allowing a marriage, no matter the type. And the service class only had it if they were lucky enough to have a cheoche. If the suitor didn't pay, the cheoche revoked whatever blessings had been given, and kept the... piece of their household.
The chains, in the meantime, prevented elopement.
It had been outlawed as something you could only do to subjugated peoples, decades ago.
---
Julian didn't know what he expected when Garak asked him to come see him. The robe, certainly, was not high on the list.
"Where was that a few months ago?" Julian asked lightly. "Don't tell me you had pajamas that whole time."
Garak stepped back to let him in. "I didn't care to change into them at the time, doctor."
Julian felt the urge to touch him, but kept his hands to himself, remembering the last time he'd done that in this room.
"Is everything alright?"
"Just fine." Garak sat down. “We haven't been talking to each other as friends much lately.”
Julian sat as well, following his lead. “No, we haven't. Are you still struggling with your appetite-”
“No doctor talk.” Garak held up a hand. “I called you here as a friend,” he emphasized, “and that means I don't want to hear a word about my… medical concerns.”
“Alright.” Julian clasped his hands together, for want of a better thing to do with them. “What do you want to talk about, then?”
Garak leaned back. “Nothing in particular.”
Ah. What a load of bullocks. But Julian would play along. “I apologize, but I've been too busy to finish the book you gave me last. Work.”
“Slacking off on our cultural exchanges…” Garak said with distant disapproval, as he looked to his left, lips parted. “What am I to do with you?”
Stay. Julian felt his cheeks warm at the odd thought. It wasn't as though Garak was deathly ill this time. This all would be over and done within a week, most likely. “I don't know, Docent Garak. What will you do with me?”
Garak’s breath caught, and he turned to look at Julian. He closed his mouth. “Remedial discussion should suffice.”
Julian laughed. He'd leaned forwards at some point, and he didn't bother correcting himself. “Alright.”
“Gender relations. These are relevant in every Cardassian work of literature, and in every aspect of Cardassian life overall. What have you observed?”
Julian leaned back. “Everyone is restricted in their movements and behaviors, women a bit more so. Ornamentation is more for women as well, but not entirely, and it's not necessarily seen in a bad light. Men are pushed towards the military, but in a lot of the older settings there's plenty of writers too. Er… men are generally seen as emotional, women as more stoic, able to separate themselves from things…” Julian trailed off. “Don't look at me like that, you put me on the spot and asked me about something rather complicated!”
“The most basic, distilled statement I can give you is this: men and women are distinct, but considered equal, on Cardassia.” Garak says, face impassive.
Julian thinks on it for a moment, and catches the quiet, hidden meaning. Those which are not distinct…
“I see. Interesting.”
Garak gave him a wan smile. “Is it? Are they not distinct to you? Or perhaps not equal?”
“Like I said before: it's complicated. What is a man, afterall? What is a woman? What-” Julian thought carefully. “I might see one of each that look and act almost entirely the same, within minutes of each other. Perhaps of different cultures, different contexts, or perhaps not. They are distinct but the distinction is- personal. Intimate.”
“Intimate.” Garak’s expression grew slightly solemn. “You would use that word, wouldn't you?”
Julian blinked. Clearly he'd missed something. “Is it wrong? When something is a matter of self knowledge- isn't that intimate, perhaps the most intimate something can be?”
A bitter air had entered the room, and it only intensified. The word choice had struck a nerve Julian hadn't realized was there to strike.
“Garak, I really didn't mean to-”
Garak looked at him and Julian immediately fell quiet. It seemed like the wise choice.
“Didn't you?” Garak rose from his chair, bending over Julian, hands gripping the armrests as yet unused. “You stopped yourself for a moment, earlier. You were considering your words. Is carelessness a common trait for a doctor?”
“I had my attention on the subject we were discussing. I apologize-”
“Whatever for? Whatever for , my dear doctor?”
“For not knowing that might upset you.”
“Interesting. That you claim ignorance. That you apologize for it.”
“Garak-”
“I don't think you're ignorant at all in the matter of intimacy.”
Oh, where had that come from?
Julian inhaled. “Look, I don't-”
“Don't what, doctor?!”
They'd ended up on the floor, somehow. Julian gripped Garak’s shoulders. “Garak! Listen to me.” Julian paused, uncertain of what to say, but knowing he had to say something. Garak looked at him, wild eyed.
“I'm here because I care about you. Because I want to support you. I didn't-” Julian's eyes fell to Garak’s robe, disheveled by their arrival to the floor. He pulled the lapels closed, looking back up at Garak. “I didn't come for anything else. I didn't mean anything else, than to- comfort you.”
Garak’s eyes were deeply unnerving. Julian had had a teacher with protuberant blue eyes once- they reminded him of a frog. She knew her eyes were somewhat unnerving, and put them to good use against any student she deemed necessary. The unease now, wasn’t that Garak normally looked odd. He simply looked like he was…
Julian was very careful where he touched Garak now, cupping his elbows to pull him up and back into his chair.
He slumped on the floor next to it. “I don't want anything else.”
He heard the soft rustle of fabric behind him- probably Garak gathering himself to sit properly. He could almost hear Garak thinking. Searching for the admission of guilt. The crack in the rhetoric to poke at till it all fell apart. A weakness to use.
“I don't.” Julian said again, resting his head back against the chair. Nails scratching against upholstery. Restraining the urge to reach out and what? Violence or intimacy- or both?
Garak rested a hand over Julian’s eyes. “You couldn’t get that out of me even if you wanted it.” Garak said quietly.
Julian sighed. They were not talking about sex. “No.” Not without medical intervention and a lot of planning, anyway.
“Why didn’t you say that?” Remind him of it, to be specific.
“Because it doesn’t make me safe, Garak.” Julian got up, shaking away the hand. “I could hurt you anyway. I’m uniquely positioned to hurt you. Surely, you know it doesn't make me safe?”
Garak was gripping the seat of the chair he'd previously sat in, nails digging into the upholstery again. “Of course.”
In the heat of the moment, no. But Julian didn't need to be told- logic didn't always stay steady in the heat of the moment. It had a nasty habit of flying off somewhere and returning just in time for you to feel stupid.
Julian extended a hand, then took it back, unsure of what he'd meant to do with it in the first place. “Of course.” He echoed, quieter.
“Do you ever want to…”
“Not really.” Julian doesn’t say that it doesn’t matter what he wants, he simply can’t. Refusing is easier to understand.
“I do, sometimes.” Garak admits.
Julian almost tells him that he prefers when Garak pulls his leg in ways that he has to carefully consider before realizing he’s lying, but he doesn’t.
---
Dr. Ammshah sat instead of standing, leaving Garak higher up than her. "How are you today, Mr. Garak?"
Her arrival had gone smoothly, though Julian hadn't gotten a chance to thank Sisko or anyone in hospitality or logistics yet. He always preferred to give a two weeks heads up, but, well...
Garak had his smiling mask in place. "Quite well, thank you."
"Glad to hear it. I've already spoken with Dr. Bashir a fair amount about you. Today, if I can, I'd like to do a physical examination, with Dr. Bashir observing, and discuss your care options."
Julian watched the subtleties of their interaction, rapt. He was hardly a stranger to bedside manner, but there was an underlying current to how Dr. Ammshah spoke and handled herself. Not just her body language, which Julian knew carried a second layer of weight in Kardasi, but something else intangible. He couldn't quite tell if it was effective yet.
"Do what you must."
Dr. Ammshah inclined her head, then handed Garak an already prepared gown. "We'll give you some privacy to change, then."
---
Barkan came up behind Garak while he was washing his face. Garak forced himself to continue like normal.
"Elijje. I don't need to tell you we'll soon be withdrawing from Bajor." He curled Garak’s hair around one finger. "The Bajorans know it. They're growing more bold and more and more of them are accepting the words of terrorists."
"I'll be careful."
Barkan tightened his twisting of Garak’s hair. "I know. You always are. But, for my peace of mind… would you stay in our quarters for the next few weeks?"
Garak stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Barkan, pulling his hair out of his grasp. "Pardon? All the time?"
"It's only for a few weeks. I'd have us leave sooner, but I can't leave wrapping up the mining project to Skrain- he has enough to handle with me helping him right now."
Garak couldn't help looking around the room. "You could send me ahead…"
"No. I considered it, but there's too much going on. We've already lost three ships with Cardassians trying to leave."
"Barkan-"
"This isn't a request, Elijje." Barkan grabbed his hand, and Garak only just resisted the urge to twist their positions and break his arm. Instead he was pulled into an embrace. Barkan threaded his hand into Garak’s hair, pushing his cheek hard into Barkan’s chest. "I've already discussed it with Skrain. He agrees with me. There's a voice lock on the door and Odo has flagged the security feed on the hall outside."
Garak took in a heavy breath. He knows. He knows something- probably about the mess with Procal.
This is just a pretext.
Barkan had the gall to laugh. "Ah, look at you shake. It's alright, Elijje. Nothing bad will happen so long as we're both smart about it." He stroked Garak’s hair. "Why don't you come back to bed with me for a bit before I have to work?"
"I dont-"
"Come now, it'll help you get your mind off things."
Barkan had him from behind, pressing his face into the mattress the whole time.
He kissed the fresh bloody bite on Garak’s neck. "Don't forget to take your hypo today. Fulfill your duty to me, Elijje."
---
"Feet flat on the biobed for me, knees up."
Garak’s chest rose and fell with a heavy, silent breath, but he did as he was told. Julian squeezed his forearm before rejoining Dr. Ammshah, who was pushing the gown up.
Garaks' whole body was taught like a strung instrument. Under the gown was grey, grey, grey, then pink under Dr. Ammshah's careful gloves (green), much like Garak’s mouth. She palpated there, pointed something out to Julian here. Julian took note of it all, distracting himself from the who and taking in the what.
She had been right in her guess as to what anatomy Garak had.
Once satisfied, she pulled the gown back down past Garak’s grey knees again, and hit the button on the biobed so Garak was sitting up.
"Everything looks mostly normal so far, but I suspect you're deficient in several vitamins, so I'll have Dr. Bashir test for that."
Garak nodded, mask apparently having fallen during the exam and struggling to get back up again.
"Obviously, you want a termination. In addition to that, I can flush your spermacathe so this won't happen again, though I'll need to do it manually. We can also remove the uterus-"
"No. Thank you, Dr. Ammshah, but I would prefer…" Garak paused. "To remain whole, with all my organs."
Dr. Ammshah nodded, unsurprised. "I feel it important to remind patients of their options, even if they're unpleasant." She looked at Julian, pulling him in, and then back to Garak. "The termination and flush will take about two or three hours. How conscious would you like to be for the latter?"
"I'll have to think on it."
"That's fine. Doctor, do you have any time slots that work with his normal schedule this week?"
"A few." Julian turned to Garak. "3 days from now, at 1900?"
"That will be fine, Dr. Bashir." Garak said, eyes closed to the infirmary lighting.
---
Garak laid in bed, controlling his breathing and meditating until the buzz of the wire responding to the morning's activities was background noise.
He sat up. Barkan knew, and that meant Garak needed out.
His exit was obvious. He'd have to kill Barkan- Ideally, Dukat too, they were the main two who'd seen him and knew his real name. Others could be dealt with more subtly. He needed to send a message to the Order, but he knew it'd say just that. Eliminate Lokar. Go to this sage house. Await further instructions for extraction.
The odds of killing Lokar and Dukat were low, even under normal circumstances. With the lock and watch protocols- unless Dukat made a personal visit, Garak could forget it. The Order would have to arrange something for Dukat later.
Garak touched his cheek. This move had always been risky, because Barkan was high profile and knew his name. By the end of this he'd probably end up with a new face.
That'd have to wait for later consideration. How was he to do this?
He'd check, of course, but if Barkan suspected him, he'd have swept the room. Any obvious disruptions would be gone, and it was possible most, if not all his hiding spots had been found. None of their medicines or bath products were ready for use as a fast acting poison. The lacing from his undergarment might work- and he had his knife, but ugh. Stabbing someone to death was a very involved, and loud process.
Garak tried his comms unit. Signal error, it proclaimed.
"Replicator, red leaf tea, hot."
"That request cannot be filled at this time due to limited resources."
"I'm sure." Garak muttered. His own comms would be easy enough to fix, at least.
---
Julian hadn't expected the first case to be the only one. Kurowaat was rather contagious, after all- there'd been a case of it in his first year at the Academy. In the heart of the Federation, most were vaccinated against it- bit it still ripped through the students, causing headaches, embarrassing laundry, and for the unlucky unvaccinated few, two weeks of missed class thanks to the full effect of the virus.
In Starfleet Medical, the saying was that it came in fives- if one person had it, four more would follow.
Most on Bajor were not vaccinated. And Julian was wondering if that phrase was grossly optimistic.
Dr. Ammshah naturally volunteered to help. She primarily was the Cardassian equivalent to an Ob/Gyn, but even without her specialty being relevant, she was still a doctor. One of the senior ones in her clinic at that. Julian had her checking in on the non-Bajorans they had coming in and helping with admin- scheduling, managing the shift madness, tracking the supplies they had and their use rate.
That still left plenty for Julian, of course. Most of the patients were Bajoran.
The station infirmary was, intentionally, too small to serve all residents. If the shop next door ever went out of business, he was going to immediately request to commandeer the space and start putting in work orders.
For now, the break rooms, private rooms, and quarantine bay were just as packed as the main bay, and Julian had given all medical staff a crash course on how to bunk biobeds as painlessly as possible. The surgical bay and his office remained empty for now.
Currently they had 46 patients with kurowaat, and more coming. Julian was going to have to go through his early patients and send the alert ones who had someone they lived with home with a good supply of diozaine to ride out the last week of the illness. And instructions to hydrate and change sheets often. But it'd be a few more days before he could do that.
He sat down between seeing patients and wondered if the sheer numbers he was calculating could justify using one of the storage bays from the aphasia virus incident last year.
It wasn't really an emergency. The infirmary being too small was just that much of a problem. He had enough supplies, enough staff- he didn't expect any deaths.
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redrage71890 · 1 year
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Seamstress Yuu AU, Pt 2
| Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia |
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This Yuu was a seamstress back in their world, but they got isekaied in Twisted Wonderland and shit and ended up being an early parent of a fire breathing gluttonous cat.
Currently living in a rundown abandoned dorm with three ghosts living with them, they are definitely in need of some madol for the repairs and just.....living...
So why not utilise these skills!
Sketching and sketching ideas for outfits and accessories that could go with it. Once satisfied with some of the ideas, all she needs to do is to find their models.
And she knows just the people...
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Savanaclaw would be a challenge, but who can say that doesn't discourage Yuu!
How did they react to the proposition?
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ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇}
God this man DID NOT want any part in the proposition.
He's too tired for this shit and just straight up said 'Go find someone else for your project herbivore.'
But determined to try this challenge, Yuu gave out many exchanges just for Leona to be a model for their outfits.
He continued to lazily decline, until a certain little nephew sweetly proposed the idea because Yuu already dramatically exclaimed her worries and troubles in getting the man to accept.
He fell to peer pressure of his nephew...
Was it hard for Yuu to get his measurements? The man just handed her his measurements while on the brink of falling asleep.
So come the day of trying the draft, she had to accompany Ruggie in getting Leona to come to Ramshackle. Though in trying the draft, Leona stated he would fall asleep in it very easily it was that comfortable. For being a draft.
Final outfit comprised of a black and white patterned collared shirt, a light brown and beige blazer jacket, black pants and black wholecut leather shoes.
Accessories included two thin gold chain necklaces and golden rings.
ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝑅𝓊𝑔𝑔𝒾𝑒 𝐵𝓊𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾}
Lets just say he only accepted because Yuu is offering him some of the profits they get.
Also to mention they would be making a bunch of clothing for the children in his home for charity. Which he greatly appreciates.
The process of getting his measurements went swiftly in fitting in Ruggie's busy schedule in caring for Leona and his school work.
Commenting he's never had anything tailored for him specifically, as because of his background in the slums.
Yuu knows this and says he of course can keep the outfit for other purposes he would like to wear it for, and if he wants to, give it away.
Once their work is done in creating the outfit, its their models to keep.
The draft felt like one of the most comfortable materials Ruggie's felt. Though its best that he doesn't know the amount the materials costs. For the sake of him not feeling guilty...
Final outfit is a white softened material button-up with brown coloured shoulders, beige pants and brown loafers.
Accessories included a black with beige gold mystical patterned cloth that's tied around like a tie and silver rings.
ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝐻𝑜𝓌𝓁}
This had to take some convincing...
Jack was confused as to why he would be an option, but Yuu defended this by saying 'His body is to DIE FOR for the male population' and 'Why not display your efforts to encourage those in the world to follow along?'
He accepted because he thought it would be okay if Yuu is in charge... nothing else of course! (he states with red up his neck)
This boy has never done anything like this so he, like Deuce is pretty stiff when taking measurements.
When testing the drafts, he kind of moved a little stiff and gently as to not rip Yuu's work, though they ushered him he's fine.
The final outfit is a silk gold button-up with felt like patches around the shoulder areas, black pants and dark brown scout chukka boots.
Not many accessories with Jack but included thin necklaces, thin bracelets and gold rings.
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ccchloister · 9 months
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It's so strange how the problems that come with existing online have forced me to find words to explain concepts that I assumed were mostly universal. I thought knowledge, talent, expertise, hard work and persistence were skills that were valuable and should be encouraged in everyone. A.I. has taught me otherwise.
A.I. might as well stand for Anti-Intellectualism, because that's the spirit behind the excitement. It literally takes the skill and labor out of skilled labor. Learning is being treated like an inconvenience, a problem to be eliminated in the name of efficiency. Entire disciplines are being treated as grand sacrifices in the name of mass production and instant gratification.
Why does art need to be efficient? It's not food. It's not medicine. It's not shelter. How fast are people shoveling content into their gob that between social media, streaming, and physical media, it's still not enough? Technology has already pushed creators to pumping out content at an unhealthy and unnatural rate just to try to appease social media algorithms. Now that same output is being used to train new algorithms to pump it out even faster while cutting creators out entirely. It’s sick and cruel. And instead of this exploitation being treated like an injustice that needs to be corrected, I'm told "It's inevitable. Adapt or die. Don't put your work online if you don't want it taken", delivered either with condescending pity, callous apathy, or malicious glee.
If A.I. fans aren't taking the "hardened pragmatic realist" approach, then they are shallowly aping socialist ideas, blaming capitalism for exploitation, not the tech. A very "guns don't kill people, people kill people" take. Just because exploitation of creatives is not a new concept doesn't mean A.I. isn't responsible for making it INFINITELY WORSE. They’ve also decided that people shouldn't be pursuing art and knowledge for the sake of profit and that the skilled creators trying to protect their labor are greedy, elitist gatekeepers trying to keep art from "the common man" (because creatives aren't the common man, apparently). It's that same resentment and distrust of experts that's typical of anti-intellectualism, except creative fields are in this weird place where they aren't even respected the way STEM is, so there's an extra layer of belittling and disrespect to the othering. Consumers feel entitled to art, but they don't understand how it's made, and they definitely don't respect it as a discipline.
The glut of creative content available for "the common man" to consume has never been greater or more accessible, but it's still not enough. It's not enough to just consume art. They want ownership. They want the sense of accomplishment that comes from making something, without having actually *made* it. And despite their finger-wagging at creatives wanting to protect their careers, they also want to make some money. Etsy is flooded with A.I. prints, kindle is filled with A.I. books, spotify is loaded with A.I. songs. There’s even A.I. kickstarters. Along with replacing writers and animators, CEOs want to replace actors, voice actors, and models with simulacrums they can make do whatever they want, forever, and A.I. fans are hoping they'll be the ones hired to facilitate that process. Even without actively profiting, A.I. still devalues the work of skilled laborers. Why commission a skilled artist when for 15 dollars you can buy a machine that will give you infinite works of the same or better quality, instantly? Do you have faith in consumers to prioritize ethics over convenience? Do you think it's right and fair and good to make compensating skilled creators an act of charity rather than a necessity?
A.I. users overestimate their contribution to the final product, thinking their idea is so unique and their vision so strong, that of course they should claim ownership… conveniently ignoring all the infinite little decisions A.I. made for them based off the knowledge and fine motor skills of millions of artists. It's like they think fully realized Good Ideas are a natural resource waiting to be excavated, and traditional creators had the unfair advantage of pickaxes, physical strength and a knowledge of geology to find the rich veins. Now A.I. is providing scanners and and powerful machinery so "the common man" doesn't need strength or knowledge to quickly mine those same veins first.
But that's not what art is, and that's not how creation works. Art is communication. Imagination is fostered through life experience, observation and processing information with your human brain. It's something every living person could do, because every person is unique with unique life experiences. Creation is practice, study, experimentation, problem solving, and adapting to limitations. There is nothing stopping anyone from doing these things. Natural ability has been grossly overvalued: most people with "talent" were not making hyper-realistic paintings at 13 like Picasso. What happens is a child shows a slight aptitude, the adults in their life notice and give them positive reinforcement, and then they are motivated and encouraged to pursue that interest. So instead of treating the naturally talented as having an unfair advantage, why not blame the adults in your life for not encouraging your interests at a young age. Or if you want to be brutally honest, blame yourself for not pursuing your interests despite a lack of external validation. You have agency.
I try to imagine, what is an A.I. fan's idea of a perfect future? One where no one has any advantages that another person doesn't, where "everyone's special so no ones special"? Where all labor is automated and no one has to do anything they don't want to and everyone spends their infinite free time bettering themselves for it's own sake rather than for money? Every time they mention the evils of capitalism and how we need universal basic income and other ideas of a post-work society it makes me want to pull my hair out. We don't *have* those things. We aren't even close to those things. So it is functionally useless to factor that into your argument. Who is Tech to use A.I.'s elimination of thousands of jobs in non-Tech industries as a bargaining chip to try and incentivize the government to create safety nets for those displaced? Since when has your government prioritized it's citizens over corporations? Have proponents always been this naive, or only when trying to assuage concerns over the consequences of their new toy?
Even if we did achieve that techie utopia, what makes them think most people will use their free time productively, exercising their brain for it's own sake? Because speaking for myself, I can have every good intention of using my time to create and learn, but those things frequently lose out to short term, dopamine-driven feedback loops like social media and video games. Without any external incentives, I guarantee far less people will pursue learning for its own sake if the knowledge-based roles that keep society functioning are filled by machines. Think of how we've had to reintroduce exercise into are lives just for exercise's sake. Hows that going? Again, speaking for myself as an overweight person: Not Great. I might intellectually know physical fitness is important, but the difficulty and unenjoyable nature of exercise and the benefits not being immediate and obvious means it frequently loses out to activities I do enjoy. I know not everyone is like me, but many, many people are. Now replace physical fitness with cognitive abilities. Abilities that require work, who's benefits are totally abstract, and would be wholly unnecessary for living in an A.I dependent society. If that doesn't give you chills up your spine, then you must stand to benefit from a culture of stupidity that's hopelessly dependent on tech. And I hate you.
No ones going to read all this.
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sailorsharky · 1 year
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On Hogwarts Legacy and allyship.
TW/CW: J.K Rowling, Hogwarts Legacy, Transphobia, Antisemitism mentioned. Right. CW out of the way, let me preface this by saying that this may turn out to be a long ramble, but I feel the need to voice my grievances in some way as a non-binary person. First of all, let's set some boundaries. Arguments in bad faith and trolling shall be ignored and/or reported/blocked. Lately, with all this hassle going on about Hogwarts Legacy, I felt the need to air my frustrations. We have all seen many different arguments from across both sides, but I will try to keep this as short as I can.
This game has been talked about well before launch, and many trans and enby folks, as well as Jewish people have asked for people to show solidarity by not buying the game. As an ally, it's important to note that it's not a lifetime pass. Many think that being an ally just means saying you support something or be generally neutral and not saying slurs. That is not the case. To be an ally you have to listen to what marginalized groups are saying. The release of this game and the widescale purchase of it by people only talking the talk and not walking the walk has shown many of us under the Trans umbrella (as well as our Jewish comrades) that we cannot trust those we called allies.
I am not saying that playing this game automatically makes you a bigoted person. Some folks I know got it and one admitted that the last JKR controversy he recalled was the whole "Dumbledore is now gay" debacle. (Pretty solid rock you've been under. Room for one more? /j) My ire is not pointed towards people that were genuinely ignorant of the situation, though my disappointment still stands and my trust in them as allies is gone. What mostly draws my ire is the knee-jerk reaction of supposed "allies" when pointing out that they have crossed the picket line and attempt to rationalize their purchase with arguments such as "I'm only supporting the devs", "I'm seperating the art from the artist", "What will 60-70 bucks change?" and "It's okay though because I donated as much/more to a Trans charity!" and so on. Let's go through them one by one. I'd like to keep this as short as possible however as many others have pointed out why these fall flat. 1. "I'm only supporting the devs". If you ONLY support the devs (of which the lead dev and a voice actor share JKR's horrific viewpoints), why aren't you buying EVERY single game on every storefront you make use of? This is a non-argument. If you buy games ONLY to support the devs, then by all means, bankrupt yourself to do just that. But you don't. You wanted to buy this game for nostalgia's sake. 2. "I'm separating the art from the artist" As a fan of HP Lovecraft's work, I understand the want to separate the art from the artist. But 1) Lovecraft is rotting in the ground as we speak. JKR is very much alive. 2) It's hard to seperate the art from the artist when said art is used as a cudgel to infringe upon human rights and dignity. Every act of consumption of her IP she sees as a vote of confidence in her brand of hatred. You may not personally see it that way, but she does, and she relishes in it. "But you just said you like Lovecraft's work! He was VERY racist and xenophobic!" Yes, absolutely! Let's HAVE that conversation, but not on this post. I agree that Lovecraft's art needs to be talked about in a critical light and the setting needs to be reclaimed and distanced from his fear and hatred of all things Not-From-New-England.
For now, moving on to... 3. "What will 60-70 bucks change?" In the grand scheme of things? Nothing. But this was never about trying to ruin JKR's pocket book. This was a litmus test for allies. Stand side by side or cross the picket line and play a mid-tier magic game filled with propaganda and caricatures of Jewish people (among other things). No, I will not entertain statements such as "But I don't see that! If anything, you seeing Jewish caricatures means you are the antisemite!" No buddy, no no no, that's not how propaganda works. There are other posts that delve into this. But in short; recognizing when something is a racist caricature does not make you a racist. Nor does not recognizing it immediately make you a racist, it simply means that you do not recognize propagandic imagery and it's important to listen to people who do know about it, specifically people that have been so unfavourably depicted in the past and present. Moving on. 4. "It's okay though because I donated as much/more to a Trans charity!" Martin Luther would like to have a strong conversation with you. Specifically 95 Theses long. Karma is not a linear scale. Buying something that ends up directly harming people and then turning around to pledge the same amount of money (or more) to a charity is not going to fix the broken trust, nor will it actually help at that point. What might help mend the fence is recognizing what the issue is and listening to the voices of those affected. Granted, many of us feel that they can no longer trust former allies because of this. Once broken, trust is hard to repair. It's important to keep that in mind and not get upset when we point it out. Personally, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but with that said, I won't be so trusting of people calling themselves allies when they choose to spend 60-70 bucks on a game that directly benefits Queen TERF (Royalty cheques are a thing, remember? You ARE directly financing her hate) rather than saving the money or putting it to a different game or charity. In short, my advice for folks that call themselves allies is this; If you want to call yourself an ally, actually listen to what is being said and learn from it. We all make mistakes, but launching into a kneejerk reaction is simply degrading what little trust remained. Don't just virtue signal, but stand beside the voices of the marginalized in solidarity.
That is all I can spare at the moment. Please keep the responses civil among one another. Asking for clarification is a-okay. Repeating above mentioned "arguments" and more like them is not. P.S: Do forgive me if I forgot some key points, I've been running on very little sleep at the moment and I needed to air my frustrations in a constructive way.
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July 9: Festival
It should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that Harry didn't particularly enjoy art museums.
Art was pretty enough, he supposed, but honestly he wasn't quite sure what he was meant to do. How was he supposed to critique things? How was he meant to not say that some things that people put on display and called art looked just plain hideous?
His friends had insisted he come to a charity art gala exactly one time before realizing the catastrophic mistake they'd made and informing him he was never allowed in polite company again. Which honestly suited Harry just fine.
Still. Luna was a different matter entirely. Harry never had quite worked out how to say no to her. And with Ginny glaring menacingly behind her when she invited him to the art festival where she was displaying some of her work, he was hard pressed to say no.
Which was how he found himself wandering into a muggle park with white tents set up all over. Trying very hard to avoid making eye contact with the artists or looking at any of the art for too long. Especially the pieces that he didn't understand.
It felt like it had been an eternity of looking for Luna's tent, he really ought to have gone with someone else, when one of the artists at a tent got a little too enthusiastic to sell him something because he'd peeked in trying to find Luna. He did the only thing he could do and pretended that he'd been looking for the tent next door.
Only, the art in this tent was actually really pretty. "Woah," he said to himself as he took in the vibrant landscapes that had been lovingly brought to life on the canvas. The brush strokes, the paint itself seemed to bring the work to life in a way that made Harry wish he could jump in.
Without really thinking about it he started to reach out to touch the canvas, the hankering desire to feel the art vibrating at the core of his being.
"Potter," a voice he'd recognize anywhere drawled, "surely you know that you aren't supposed to touch paintings."
His hand snapped back and he turned to find Draco Malfoy leaning against the table in the back. Malfoy looked nothing like Harry remembered and he had a difficult time reconciling what he'd expected to see with what he was seeing.
Gone were the stiff, fussy outfits of their youth. In their place, Malfoy wore a pair of high-waisted flowing trousers; they were a pale pink and looked soft to the touch, swishing against Malfoy's body when he moved. On top was a white crop top that was fitted through the bodice but had flowing sleeves, and intricate straps that layered and crossed over each other and left tantalizing bits of shoulder and collarbone displayed. Malfoy's long blond hair was loosely braided, daisies and buttercups woven through.
"Oh for Salazar's sake," Malfoy snapped and Harry was brought back to himself. "Out with it, Potter. Whatever vicious slurs you want to throw at me, go ahead. I've heard them all already-"
"What?" he yelped. "No!" he said, "no," he reiterated, shaking his head for emphasis. "I wasn't thinking anything mean-"
"Right," he sneered, hands bracketing his narrow hips. "I'm sure that you wer-"
"I was thinking that you're really fucking pretty," Harry spat before he could actually think through the consequences of that sentence.
"Oh," Malfoy murmured, looking a bit stunned, cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink.
Harry swallowed, "I just wasn't expecting it. I wasn't thinking anything mean," he repeated.
Malfoy's chin tipped up, "I'm gender fluid," was offered like a challenge.
He wondered how often that had led to a fight, wondered at Malfoy's bravery for a moment before asking, "What are your pronouns?"
Malfoy's shoulders eased, "they/them is my preference."
"Alright," Harry replied. "Do you still go by Draco?"
"I do," they said, looking at Harry appraisingly for a long moment as though he was something inconceivable.
"Can I call you Draco?" he asked because this person standing in front of him, free in their body for the first time since Harry had known them, was not the person he'd spit the surname Malfoy at when they were in school.
"Do you want to?" they replied a bit helplessly.
He couldn't help but smile, "Yeah. Yeah I do."
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Harry'd stayed at Draco's tent listening to them talk about their art, about the way they'd traveled; just left the whole world they knew behind to explore all the things they'd never known. "And it was beautiful," Draco said wistfully. "Merlin, it was so beautiful. And I just wanted to capture it all," they said gesturing around the tent helplessly. "Muggles have amazing technology for capturing images on their phones but it's not the same as actually creating it."
"So you just what?" he asked with a laugh, "picked up a paint brush and got to it?"
Draco flushed, "Well," they said, "Art is taught to pureblood children from a very young age. It's not a suitable career, but it is a prestigious hobby."
"Bucking all of those traditions, then," Harry laughed, gesturing around them at the tent.
They gave Harry a tentative smile and tucked a loose strand of fine blond hair behind their ear, "I like to think so."
Harry knew he was grinning like an absolute sod but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Then, "I don't have any artwork in my house."
Draco blinked at him, "Sorry?"
He shrugged, "I don't have any artwork. Like I just don't understand how to pick artwork that is right for a space."
"Honestly," they laughed, rolling their eyes. "It's not that hard."
"Would you help me?" he asked before he could really think through what he was asking. "Like, I would pay you," he continued quickly, "I just," he shrugged, "I really like your art and the way it makes me feel," he added a little sheepishly. "It would feel nice to have my house full of it."
Draco was blinking at him uncomprehendingly, like they couldn't understand what had just happened.
"Or not," he said backpedaling. "That's probably a really weird thing for someone to ask an artist for in retrospect. Right?" his palms felt itchy as he tried to fix it. "Sorry-"
"Harry," Draco said, their voice calm and warm, and it soothed something inside of him. "I would love to," they replied earnestly, "I've never had anyone ask me to do that, but I'd like to try."
"Great," he said, his tummy flipping at the thought of spending more time with Draco. "What, uh, what would you need next?"
"Do you know what you want?"
Harry shook his head.
"Sizes of paintings you'd need for your rooms?"
He shook his head again.
"Price range?"
"Money isn't," he cleared his throat, "Money isn't a problem."
Draco smirked, "There were rumors about the Potter vaults, you know."
"I did not," he replied with a little laugh.
"I always wondered when I was young," they said, "when nothing could fill the void of not being who I was, how you managed to not use your money at every conceivable moment."
"I-"
"Sorry," Draco said, standing up abruptly, "That was too much, I didn't mean-"
"Hey," Harry said, reaching out and grabbing their wrist, brushing his thumb along the smooth curve of flesh over bone. "You're not too much."
Draco looked like they wanted to run.
So Harry repeated himself, softly and slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Draco's, "You're not to much for me."
Their eyes slipped shut and the tension drained from their body.
And just as Harry was about to say something else, something about wanting rather desperately to know everything about Draco, another customer wandered in.
Draco pulled away, "leave me your number and we can schedule a time for me to look at your house so we can make a plan."
"Right," he said dazedly, hastily scribbling down his number on the pad of paper on Draco's table. "I'll talk to you soon?"
Draco gazed at him for a long moment before nodding. "Soon."
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Soon, as it happened, was a couple of hours later when Harry was having dinner with his friends, celebrating a big sale Luna had at her tent.
His phone buzzed and he looked down to see a message from a number he didn't recognize
Hello. This is Draco Malfoy. I wanted to reach out about a time that might be convenient for me to come and look at your home and make a plan for the art commission we'd discussed. My week this week is fairly open but I start traveling again next week.
He smiled down at the message before starting one of his own.
Hey! Thanks for getting back to me. Is tomorrow morning too soon?
He hit send then sent another:
I really liked seeing you today. Is that too much?
A message popped up a second later
Tomorrow morning works for me. Is 9:00 suitable? It's not too much.
He grinned and was about to reply when Ron said, "What's got you grinning at your phone like that?"
He laughed and shook his head, not quite ready to share Draco with his friends yet. It was too new, too exciting. And honestly he liked Draco too much to want to hear what his friends might say.
"It's not a what, it's a who," Luna replied airily.
Ginny perked up at that, "What's his name?" she asked at the same time as Ron spoke up again, "What's her name?"
"Their," he corrected absently.
"Ah," Luna said and Harry glanced over to see her broad smile. "I'm really happy for both of you," she said genuinely.
And their friends started clamoring over each other to ask Luna, which Harry found mildly amusing since she never gave straight answers. He turned back to his phone in the ensuing chaos.
9:00 sounds perfect. What do you like in your coffee? Do you like coffee?
I'm fairly certain that coffee is my one true love.
Stiff competition, then.
Are you flirting with me, Potter?
Depends.
On what?
Is it working?
There was a long pause and Harry worried a little that he'd pushed it too hard, too fast.
"Harry!" Ron shouted, from his tone it wasn't the first time.
He looked up, "What?"
"When are you seeing this mystery person again?" he asked and everyone seemed very invested in his answer.
His phone buzzed and Harry couldn't resist looking down to read the message.
Might be. We'll see how the coffee is in the morning. ;)
He couldn't stop the grin on his face if he'd wanted to. Draco Malfoy sent him a winking face.
"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently.
He looked up at them once more. "Tomorrow morning."
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Part 2
July 8: Postcard | July 10: Skating
Read more of my gentle July ficlets
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