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#and for HIM too so he can like idk build his reputation up again
ryukatters · 7 months
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Ok so imagine:
Gojo is pretty emotionally disconnected from most, refuses to let himself get attached most of the time after everything thats happened to him.
And then you show up
He doesn’t want to slip up. He doesnt want to form another bond like that. But its like he can’t stop it. Maybe you just remind him of what he’s lost, maybe it’s the way you see him as him rather than “the strongest,” an annoyance, or something shallow. It happens slow, so slow he barely even picks it up, but the feelings bloom. You just enrapture him. And he remembers everything that happened last time he got so close to another person, and he’s terrified to accept it but terrified to turn it away and loose the last chance he might have at a relationship like that.
so he takes it, tries to claim you in every sense of the word. You’re weaker than him, possibly even an underling, so there’s definitely a power dynamic that makes it easier for him to keep control. Maybe he tries to keep you hidden, but maybe he likes to drag you around like a dog, only loaning you off to somebody else when it gets too dangerous. Either way, it’s not like you can run because he’d definitely find you. He is absolutely NOT going to lose something so important to him, not again. He’d do whatever it takes, even if it meant making himself look like the bad guy in your eyes because you understand him so well, so he’s sure he can turn your relationship back to the positive side with just a little explanation and coercion
(idk if this may be a bit ooc but… its been rotting in my brain ty for letting me dump it here)
trigger warnings/content: yandere, stalking, power dynamics, obsession, Gojo is a few years older than reader, no smut, just word vomit
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It starts off small. You’re a budding sorcerer, a few years Gojo’s junior, and also a new teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, trying to adjust to your new job. Gojo takes it upon himself to mentor you. You don’t think anything of it, other than the fact that it’s a little intimidating to have the strongest sorcerer of the era to serve as your guide.
You’re strong, he can see. You’re hardened by a few rough years of working in the field, but even despite barely meeting you, your facade cracks and he can see the goodness underneath.
Gojo’s impenetrable most days. To a lot of people, he might be a loud, annoying nuisance, but to you, you see a broken man who tries to keep everyone at arm’s length at the expense of his pride and reputation as a formidable sorcerer.
Gojo’s extremely intelligent, and uses it to play his cards wisely. It took him years to build a persona that’ll prevent outsiders from ever looking in. You manage to unravel him day by day, and it almost frustrates him.
Almost.
Until he realizes there’s no point in fighting the inevitable— he’ll have to let you in eventually.
There’s a fear in Gojo’s eyes when he sees you. It’s like all tomorrows appear in a blink. Your entire essence, so good, so innocent about the cruelty of the world. It reminds him of innocence he once had in his youth. Something about you is so magnetizing, and no matter how much Gojo wants to fight it, he can’t help but be pulled in.
He wants you. And he wants you to want him. Need him. Desire him carnally in the way he does you.
Slowly, he lets you see parts of him that no one else has ever seen. His love is so overwhelming, and because it’s Satoru— with his sweet words and seemingly good intentions— he manages to have you fall for him too. And when he finally, officially has you (because let’s face it, he decided you were his long before that point), he manages to keep you under lock and key.
For your safety, he reasons.
After all— is he really the strongest if he doesn’t do what he can to keep you safe?
The rose colored glasses seem to wear off over time, and you start to see Gojo for the monster he really is.
It takes a few months of garnering courage to even attempt to begin planning your escape from him. You do it slowly, but carefully, calculating every step to make sure you don’t leave a trail behind.
You get one of the auxiliary managers to buy you a back up phone, set up a whole new bank account overseas, and eventually *secretly* book a ticket to a whole different country— one far from the grasp of Satoru Gojo.
Fate, by some miracle, seems to be on your side. Yaga calls both of you in for an emergency meeting. Gojo is being sent away on a week long mission abroad to snuff out a new curse user group that has connections to one here in Japan. You— a local mission to check out disappearances in a nearby town.
You can feel the hostility radiating from the man standing next to you. You dare to take a peek, and you see nothing but an airy smile. “Yaga, I’ll take care of their mission. It should be quick for me—“
“No, Satoru. They haven’t been on a mission in months, thanks to you being greedy and taking on everything. Being a good mentor means letting them take calculated risks.”
With that, both of you sign off on paperwork and begin to prepare for your respective missions. The atmosphere is tense in Gojo’s home— the same one he made you move into just a few months prior (“So you don’t have to worry about commuting so far. ‘Sides, there’s a lot of creeps lurking around out there, and I’m not talking about curses.”)
Gojo refuses to leave you until he makes sure that you’ll be safe. Borderline threatens Ijichi to keep a close eye on you, and the poor man is nothing short of pissing his pants.
He pulls you aside before Ijichi starts preparing the veil. One hand rests on your waist, squeezing almost a little bit too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go, while the other tilts your chin up so you can meet his gaze.
He has his blindfold on, but you know all of his attention is on you. “I know you won’t have service inside the veil, but the second it gets lifted you’re going to call me.”
You nod, and listen like the good girl he likes you to be. With that, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves.
You manage to locate the missing victims and exorcise the curse in less than 48 hours. You do as you’re told and call Gojo. He picks up after the first ring, and you think you can hear a shuddered sigh of relief on the other line upon hearing your voice. He tells you he has to go, only because duty calls, and that he’ll talk to you soon. Be good. Update him. Don’t leave without permission.
As usual, you appease him.
You make it back home in record time, tell Ijichi to wait outside because you need him to take you somewhere.
You leave your phone behind— the one that Gojo has the location of— and shut the door with nothing but a small suitcase in tow.
Ijichi stammers, you want to go where? Alone? Does Gojo know about this?
You tell him there’s no time for questions and to start driving.
He drops you off at Narita, in the international terminal. He’s visibly sweating, no doubt fearing for both his life and yours once a certain white haired sorcerer gets back from his mission. You give him an easy smile and thank him, and he speeds off, probably to go into hiding as well.
Your hands are shaky as you hand the boarding pass to the flight crew, and the tremors don’t stop even as you take a seat inside the plane. Even when you arrive at your destination, lay down in your bed in what’s going to be your temporary home for who knows how long, does your anxiety fail to cease.
Gojo knows something is off. He’s blown up your phone with endless calls and texts, called Ijichi countless times, and even asked Yaga about your whereabouts. Nothing. Your radio silence confirms his intuition. He finishes up his mission quickly, before the one week allotment is up. The first thing he does when he steps foot in Japan is immediately teleport back home.
He’s met with silence, and hardly any trace of your cursed energy residuals to be seen. You’ve been gone for a few days, he deduces.
Anxiety starts to prickle the back of his neck, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this much concern for anyone. Are you hurt? He tries calling you again, until he hears it. The slight buzzing sound emanating from your shared bedroom.
He picks up the device and sees the log of notifications. You really were gone.
Satoru looks through your phone— messages, emails, camera roll, bank statements— anything, anything to give him a hint as to what you were up to. Nothing. That’s okay, onto the next plan, which is honestly what he should’ve done first.
Being the strongest sorcerer had its perks, but none of them were greater than his privilege to investigate into people’s background history.
You know deep down there really was no escape from Satoru Gojo. That no matter the distance, he’d find a way back to you.
So when you see Gojo sitting on your bed in your hotel room, a part of you isn’t that surprised. The rest of you is paralyzed with anxiety of what comes next. You want to run, but you can’t. Your eyes begin to shift towards the still open door, trying to assess your options, but you’re hardly given a chance to finish your thought before Gojo is in front of you, closing the door. Effectively shut away from the outside world.
He’s not wearing his blindfold, you noticed. Which means he’s probably been tracking the flow of your cursed energy the moment you stepped foot into the lobby.
His stormy gaze meets yours, and he smiles. Your stomach drops.
“So…” he starts, voice sinfully low, “thought you could get away, hm?” He’s backed you up against the door, his strong frame pressed against yours.
Words bubble up your throat but die as they reach the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to set him off. You’ve only been given small glimpses into Gojo’s more sadistic, domineering side, which he does on purpose to serve as warning. You’re not like anyone else, so I’ll be good to you. In return, you must be good for me.
You start to tremble, legs beginning to fail you— but Satoru’s there to hold you steady. He uses one hand to grip your face, squishing both of your cheeks until your lips are pursed. He watches with deep adoration and fascination at how pliant the flesh is between his fingers. It’s like you were made for him.
“I’m willing to forget that you did this,” he hums, placing a quick peck to the tip of your nose before he presses his forehead against yours. “If you promise to get in that bed with me until I’ve decided you’re forgiven.”
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Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, recommend, or translate my writing on TikTok or Twitter.
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aiizenn · 11 months
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strawberry lollipop. gojo satoru.
ₓ˚. ୭ cw: none? fem!reader, college au, some bits of jock gojo.
will probably make this into a series, idk yet?
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tsk “i knew it, you’re all talk and no action satoru.”
gojo smirks “alright, just say who.”
“her”
gojo turns towards the direction sukuna was looking. there you were, looking so bright — full of joy. you were handing out flyers to students on campus. he’d never seen someone show so much enthusiasm on something before.
“piece of cake” he says as he removes the lollipop from his mouth. “you do know i like challenges, right? you’re making this too easy. i’ll have her wrapped around my finger before you know it.”
“we’ll see about that. you have a few weeks, win her over only to break her heart in the end, until then you can live up to your reputation.”
suguru just sits next to his best friend shaking his head at the situation. “this is ridiculous, just leave her alone.”
“oh come on suguru, it’s only a bet. what’s the worst thing that can happen? fall in love with her? as if! just watch and learn.” gojo makes his way towards you, getting ready to win your heart and the bet.
“please take the flyer and consider signing up for the make it green event our campus is hosting. you can donate supplies to plant trees or participate by planting them with many others. you’ll be making a huge difference.” every word left your lips filled with excitement. by far you have done so well in handing out multiple flyers and getting participants for the event, nothing could ruin your mood.
“may i have one?”
“of course” you turn around and for a split second your smile drops. you take back what you were thinking just seconds ago, something... no, someone can ruin your mood. the white haired, 6 ft tall guy with a bright smile standing right in front of you. anything he does is trouble, and you know it. what is he up to now? your thoughts are interrupted by him clearing his throat, snapping back to reality you hand him a flyer.
“where can i sign up?” he looks up after reading the paper.
sign up? did you hear that right? gojo satoru actually wants to help? or is he looking for something to make himself look good? whatever his motive is doesn’t matter, the more the better.
“here, you can write your name under the options provided. you can choose one or all, it is up to you.”
“hmm, i’ll do all”
you were skeptical, but you let it go. “okay then, take this wristband and wear it on the day of the event. many will have different colors, each one indicates a different task. yours means that you’ll be helping out with almost everything.” as you glanced over to him you saw his face with an expression of disbelief for a brief second. “you can wear anything comfortable and of your liking, both food and drinks will be provided. this card has all the information, just in case if you have any questions.”
“cool…what will you be doing?” okay, now you’re starting to build up your walls even higher, what’s with him? why is he interested? you decide to tell him, maybe then he’ll leave.
“same as you” you said as you turned around to hand out more flyers. you swear you heard him mutter jackpot, it could just be the excruciating heat that’s affected you after many hours outside walking and talking. ‘just one more hour’ you thought, you were determined to see this through, you had your reasons to do this under the hot sun. just a little more to go.
“looks like you haven’t had lunch yet” says the annoyingly—good looking, tall, now next to you guy. not that he has to know. you turn to give him a smile that clearly and kindly says to leave. of course you haven’t had lunch, doing this on your own was nice but exhausting as well. leaving you with little to no time for yourself, again, just one more hour.
“here”, you turn to see him with his arm extended towards you with a lollipop on his hand—strawberry flavored. you look up to him with confusion. a soft yet playful smile plastered on his face.
“it’s an extra one i had” he says as he shrugs. now you are dumbfounded, everything he’s done within the last few minutes has made your brain go crazy. gojo satoru has not only shown “interest” in something that isn’t games, partying, or anything that walks with something in between their legs, but he was also…caring?
“you need some sugar, love. hours without eating can cause you to faint.” he says ever so sweetly as he takes your unoccupied hand and places the very delicious looking lollipop on it. looking down to your hand and up to him again, he has a toothy smile, a rare sight. he places one of his hands in his pocket while the other gets a sticker from the table. he walks away and turns around while walking backwards.
“see you in a few days” he semi-shouts given the distance. gives you a wink and walks away. you look down, getting the lollipop closer, you notice tiny letters in the bottom left corner of the wrapper. G.S, you scoff as you look up in disbelief. this isn’t going to be easy.
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genericpuff · 2 months
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welp, this kinda sucks
I'm currently at odds with the PC that I got a couple months ago, it's started freezing and soft-resetting randomly for seemingly no reason. It would usually be after hours of use that I could chalk up to the memory overloading, but now it's happening as soon as I boot up the frigging thing. And just to make it clear how much I've done on my own to diagnose the problem, our attempts to fix it have included the following:
Limiting startup applications
Running virus / malware scans
Swapping out display monitors
Updating the GPU drivers
Setting a lower overclock profile in the BIOS settings
Swapping out power cables and outlets to check for power surges
So far none of these things have worked and if anything, the issue has just gotten worse in the last two days. Like, it can barely make it to the startup screen sometimes, despite the memory and CPU usage being >20%, there is zero reason it would be the PC overclocking itself just from startup.
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(and no, it doesn't even compel me, i'm just annoyed to shit LOL)
So I dropped it off with the guy who built it (he runs an electronics / pawn shop downtown that's very reputable and well-known so it's not like I don't trust him or anything, he's been building PC's for people in the area for years) and it's now in his care for the next day or two while he tries to isolate the problem. Right now the only thing I can imagine being the problem is the power supply or my display monitor, which is my old Huion Kamvas 22 Plus that still works as a monitor, just not a drawing tablet - but if something's still fucking around in the tablet, it could be causing problems through the PC, maybe.
When I dropped it off with the guy, he went and set it up in his office and came out and told me that so far it seemed to be running just fine, when he asked me if I was doing anything specific I told him it was crashing even after startup so I gave him permission to overclock the shit out of it, run 53879205893 browser tabs, run my games, software, anything he needed to do to push it to its limits and see if he could replicate the problem.
I am terrified if it has to do with the motherboard, because that will be an expensive replacement that will also potentially lead to losing files / installations / etc. depending on how big an issue it is. It could also potentially be Windows 11 having a hissy fit especially seeing as how it's freezing up on startup, but doesn't freeze on the BIOS screen when it loads up in safe-mode after hard resets, so something is clearly happening between the hard boot-up and the startup of Windows 11 itself.
Thankfully I do have Google Drive sync support and plenty of external HDD's that I can back my stuff up to, but with the freezing and restarting getting as bad as it's been, I haven't been able to back anything up, and I don't want to risk doing it manually if it'll just freeze and potentially corrupt my files in the process. So I told the guy to call me if he needed to mess with anything concerning the system storage so that, if he could at least keep it running stable in the shop, then I could swing by and get everything I needed synced up safely before he messes around with anything.
It could also very well have something to do with the power supply itself, the house that I occupy the main floor of isn't exactly built with electric optimization in mind, we've had fuses blow on us before just from running the hair dryer at the same time as the TV, so if it's something to do with the PC drawing too much power for the electrical system here to keep up with, either (hopefully) the guy will be able to instruct me on how to lower and manage that power intake through the PC's BIOS (I believe you can but I'm still a massive noob on custom builds and I don't want to go tinkering with it myself) or, idk, maybe I'll have to get my landlord to drop by again with his electrician and check out the fuses to make sure they're all operating properly. I'm not an electrician either, so fuck if I know at this point what could be going on. I feel like it can't be the house itself because everything else is running fine and it's just become a recent issue, but our city's power grid is also not exactly praised for being good at its job, especially not in the winter.
So yeah, I'm a little - well, a lot - stressed right now, but all I can really do at this point is wait. Fortunately, I have my iPad and also remembered that I still have my old PC, so I've hooked it up, at best if the problem repeats itself on this PC then I'll know it has to do with the display monitor, at worst I'll just be stuck working with my clunky old hardware for a couple days, which is annoying, but it'll get the job done. Fortunately I had the newest episode of Rekindled uploaded to the cloud in Clip Studio so I can still download it and work on it, which was my biggest worry when everything started to go belly-up (next to just, like, having a working PC).
Sooooo yeah. It's annoying, but I'm hoping for the best. Send good vibes y'all, I really could use it rn, between this and slow traffic at work and some other personal shit that's been going on, it's been a shitty few days (╥﹏╥)
And yeah, I'll keep y'all updated on if it affects this week's update, it really shouldn't honestly as most of the work left is doable from both my iPad and PC, but obviously at this point anything can happen so if anything has to be postponed or changed to accommodate the current situation, I'll update y'all as soon as I can! Thanks everyone, y'all are the best, wish me luck <3
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fiorella-a · 8 months
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Hey! I'm new here, thank you!
Honkai Star Rail boys as... "Cupid's Chokehold" lyrics (+scenarios?? Headcannons?? Mini fic?? Idk)
Info:
-Gn! Reader
-Fluff
Welt:
"Not much of a girlfriend
I never seem to get a lot"
"And I know it sounds so old
But cupid got me in a chokehold
And I'm afraid I might give in"
"And we can be on the phone for three hours
Not sayin' one word"
>> Welt's type would be: mature and patient, that is until you came along. You're reckless and if somebody talked bad about anyone you cared about, you'd be pulling out your weapon in no time. Welt could only sigh at your behavior but can't do anything about it because, well, you're you and he loves you. His soft spot is barely noticeable unless you've known Welt for a while (ehem Himeko, ehem Dan Heng, ehem March) then you'd definitely notice his presence shift and facial expressions soften. When you went to Jarilo-VI with the three youngsters, Welt would message you from time to time;
"Hi, good afternoon. As soon as you arrive at a hotel please notify me and don't call unless i say so."
"Stay safe, darling."
Sampo:
"This is gonna sound like a bad joke
But momma I fell in love again
It's safe to say I have a new girlfriend"
"She's got a smile that would make the most senile
Annoying old man bite his tongue"
"Call it dumb call it luck call it love or whatever you call it but
Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like here"
>> When Sampo first revealed it to the trio (he told them first before rubbing it into Gepard's face <33) that he has a girlfriend, they LAUGHED to the point their stomach actually started hurting and Dan Heng had to walk out. When Sampo revealed it was you, they started to side eye him like– "y/n? The person that helped us here in the underground??" "THE Y/N?!" "😲😲❓" Long story short: they approved of the relationship but if they see you upset, they immediately blame it on Sampo.
With your golden heart reputation along with the trailblazer, it's no use for other people to hide such thankful and wonderful feelings whenever you help them. Sampo would be smiling like an idiot if he sees someone who's usually in a bad mood talk to you with smiles in their faces and that's something he'll brag about.
Whenever Sampo would be involved in a fight, you bet he looks at your picture first before going in like a beast to fight, he could only wish that you'll brag about him too <3
Luocha:
"And I know you heard the last song about the girls that didn't last long
But I promise this is on a whole new plane
I can tell by the way she says my name"
>> When you first met, you pronounced is name as 'Loo-cha' instead of 'lao-cha' and you thought he was gonna make you carry the coffin he always has (💀) but he laughed it off and taught you how to pronounce his name. When you guys finally established a relationship, you'll find out that he took your phone and changed his own contact name into: "Loocha my beloved."
(Your contact name in his phone would be your name but all scrambled up with 'my beloved' at the end)
Jing Yuan:
"She's got eyes comparable to sunrise"
"She's got porcelain skin of course she's a ten"
>> This pretty 'lil General loves every part of you, especially your face. Why you might ask? Whenever he lays his head on your lap while you're eating on the floor, he can see the shine of the sun reflect into your eyes as if you're the human embodiment of the sun itself. Your skin? He loves it. Every scar, every stretch mark, every wound, every bruise, every scar, it's a ten for him. He wishes to be by your side while you heal physically and mentally.
Dan Heng and/or Imbibitor Lunae:
"She's got the cutest laugh I ever heard"
"when I start to build my future she's the main component"
>> He melts whenever you laugh, giggle or chuckle! Doesn't matter if you laugh like a horse or smth, he just finds himself smiling at you– you look so genuine and peaceful that he finds himself affected by the energy you're radiating and he's not planning on leaving.
One night, when he was about to sleep he sees you go into his room and he feels the kiss you gave onto his forehead before whispering quietly to yourself, "I'll be here, making sure you're safe and peacefully sleeping with no nightmares." He had a hard time faking to be asleep– hell even trying to sleep! All he can think about is you both together in the future, making sure each other is safe and that no harm would ruin both of your bond.
Gepard:
"I know I'm young but if I had to choose her or the sun, I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun"
>> Absolutely loves your energy and personality. His sister, Serval once said, "What if Y/n's actually the descendant of the Sun God? They makes my 'lil Geppie warm and breaks the ice surrounding him!" She'd laugh at her own statement while Gepard would think about what she said, yes, your personality does seem so energetic and your eyes radiates of what looks and seems to be innocence. But he damn well knows that he'd rather have the ice on his heart melt rather than the ice on his planet melt, call him selfish but he's a fool inlove.
Blade:
"It's gonna be a long drive home but I know as soon as I arrive home
And I open the door take off my coat and throw my bag on the floor
She'll be back into my arms once more for sure"
>> Being a stellaron hunter is tiring, he wishes he could rest for all eternity but he can't. That was his mindset before you came, now it's all 'when I come home will they be in the shower? Or will they be on the couch, waiting for me?' Of course, you're on the couch and running back into his arms you go! You can tell him that he's all bloody and sweaty but he doesn't care, as long as you're willing to hug him, he has no problem changing the way he comes home.
Arlan:
"I love it when she calls my phone
She even got her very own ringtone"
>> Arlan has a default ringtone for everyone except Asta, Herta, and you. Whenever you call all you need is a second (maximum is 3 minutes) and he'll pick it up speaking with you using his gentle voice, you can almost feel his muscles relaxing at your voice.
Asta promised Arlan that she wouldn't tell his little secret but she spilled it to you by accident saying, "OH! Do you know Arlan memorized your ringtone? That's why he picks up so quickly!" You could only giggle at what she said.
Caelus:
"she even cooks me pancakes
And Alka Seltzer when my tummy aches
If that ain't love then I don't know what love is"
>> He Loves the way you care for him. It gives him a feeling of having a childhood or a feeling of once being young. If he gets sick, he always requests you to make him pancakes before taking his medicines and always waffles when he wakes up for breakfast. While you're cooking or feeding him, he looks at you with eyes full of love!
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tinyagitator · 8 months
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Okay so @scordoesart posted a lovely Bellhands thing the other day and I got thinking again, which can either be fun, or lead to sheer madness and brainrot and this is the brainrot kind of thinking apparently. So I had to write it down and regain some semblance of sanity again.
So, Bellhands is all well and good (and honestly, probably the most likely option for Izzy's long lost boyfriend please cast Matt Berry as Sam, he is so perfect), but then I doodled a little piratey dude the other day, thought he looked like he could be a good boyfriend for Izzy, but he didn't feel like Bellamy to me, and then I thought
Blackbeard is a pirate with a bloody reputation, but a soft side for his beloved.
You know you else had a big, nasty, bloodthirsty reputation?
Charles Vane
Hear me out:
In history, Vane got started sailing around the same time as Stede and Blackbeard under Henry Jennings, and pretty quickly made a name for himself and gained a reputation for like, torturing captured crews, and being the "leave none alive, show no mercy" sort of pirate captain.
So if Vane is a big name in the pirate world, why wouldn't Izzy hear that name and go "that's my boyfriend! He's alive!"
Some pirates likely changed their names to protect their family's reputation, so maybe when they were younger, Izzy didn't know him as Charles Vane?
From what I skimmed on Wikipedia, Vane didn't sail with Hornigold, but we're history inspired here, not completely accurate. I read somewhere that Taika said he read like 4 sentences of the Blackbeard Wikipedia page and decided to just wing it from there, so if it's good enough for Taika, it's good enough for me
So, what if he did? What if he sailed with Hornigold and company under his legal name, and then later changed it to Vane when he started building his own piratey reputation?
Some time after Blackbeard gets to captain his own ship, something happens and Charles gets separated from the crew (arrested? Falls overboard and picked up by a different ship? Idk, something) and Izzy thinks his boyfriend is dead
Maybe Charles has some connections somewhere and talks his way out of being hanged for crimes of piracy, but has a hard time getting back out to sea for some reason. Eventually he does get away and back out to sea where he meets Jennings, and somewhere down the road, he gets to captain his own ship and goes off to try to reunite with Izzy and company.
(side note: at least according to Wikipedia, he sailed on The Lark, The Ranger, The Katherine, and a different ship called The Ranger. Hornigold also had a ship called the Ranger, so there's the basis for my half-assed 'Vane used to sail with Hornigold' theory. I’ve also decided that his ship the Katherine is named after someone he knows. A beloved little sister, maybe?)
Historically, Vane and Calico Jack sailed together for a time. Per Wikipedia, Jack was Vane's quartermaster, and later became captain after voting Vane out of his captaincy. Again, vaguely historically inspired, my vision of Vane (fairly level-headed and laid back, but prone to bursts of anger and murder) probably doesn't like wild, rambunctious Jack too much, and maybe only briefly reunited with him prior to ep 8. So maybe when Charles reunites with Blackbeard and Izzy, there can be a "why the FUCK didn't Jack tell you I've been looking for you, I'm gonna fuckin kill him" moment
Maybe Vane got his violent reputation while looking for Izzy. I'm picturing like, Vane shows up in the republic of pirates, asks about Blackbeard, and the guys there are like "oh yeah he was here like a week ago, you just missed him. No idea where he fucked off to this time", and he starts taking out his frustration on captured ships because his former shipmates are just always slightly out of reach. Or maybe gossip spreads about Ed and Stede taking the act of grace, and Vane starts getting extra passionate about hunting English ships, hoping to find Blackbeard on one of them and reunite with his old friend?
how did Izzy and Charles end up together in the first place? Still working out the details on that one, but it's coming together, just slowly
This may turn into a actual fic some day (probably not, I have no time, nor am I good with words) but for now it's just a jumbly, scrambly list of half-formed ideas that need to be dealt with eventually
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granitenotgranted · 1 year
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I'm gonna need ur reaction and thoughts about the RaM finale once you've watched it
I only watched it yesterday so im not gonna have any hot and spicy new takes for yall but ya girl DID have some thoughts lets go (obviously spoiler warning)
thank you SO SO much for asking!! I’m honored that you want my takes<33
Listen I hate to say it but I KNEW IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!! GOD!!! 😭😭😭
I just need to come out here and say this but first of all I dont think Rick replacing himself was really a bad thing,,,, like at all LMAO especially knowing that it was Rick who made him I mean it was more than just a replacement he was made to be the grandpa he wants for morty but he just knows he can’t be right now.
I can fully understand how it would absolutely feel like a betrayal to Morty but looking at it as a viewer I mean Rick was fully spiraling, to me his intentions were completely pure. Also I thik im just grateful they gave us a time stamp for when the swap was made so we didnt have to wonder forever how much of Rick this season was Rick. He still did piss master, he still kept Jerry blissfully ignorant just out of good will, he STILL WILLINGLY WENT TO THERAPY. All these wouldve been out the window if theyd overlooked that detail. 
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Him recognizing that he was starting to go off the deep end again and not only removing himself but having his familys best interest in mind ( “Im no good to anyone until I resolve this” ) while doing so AND literally while mad at Morty is still INSANE character growth from where we started but this way is REALISTIC character growth. It was WEIRD how black and white the difference between literally yhe last two episodes and even just the rest of the season (which has famously been Rick in his peak good grandpa career) was. At some points it felt like I was reading fanfiction.
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(Why do his knees look like that oh my god) Rick is fully capable of recognizing where he can be better, he always has been, he is not stupid *however* he is CLUTCHING onto the idea of being more logical than sentimental by the fucking neck rn. Men will literally build an anatomically flawless ai to be the perfectly calculated percentage nicer to their grandson and to be the man they wish they were before just going back to therapy.
Someone else mentioned this but ill also point out how much I appreciated just seeing Rick working? Like just in his space completely focused building shit with his brain and hands that hit the fucking spot. 9/10 times we only get the finished product and idk if its just me but I love when we SEE Rick living up to the Rick Sanchez tm reputation.
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And Morty... my sweet summer child. It is not at all a shiny new take to say oh he’s so done with ricks shit we all know that but I really really want to point out something that I’m not really sure what point I’m trying to make with but have we noticed almost a switch morty flips when on adventures? He cried because Christmas was ruined like not even a full 6 hours before he was fully ready to kill a man while looking him in the eyes. Maybe the two were cause and effect idk bht I think that’s definitely something present in other episodes too this sorta “just get it done” attitude.
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Also how much he sounded like rick this ep? That whole “don’t be too flattered he’s been actively trying to die” sounded EXACTLY like a Rick line I literally had to play it again. And the complete apathy for robo rick wanting to die until he ACTUALLY lunged himself into the void was also just textbook rick bullshit. Like grandfather like goddamn grandson.
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The ending to me was a little disappointing tbh I think I was hoping for a more,,, structured? Cliffhanger? Like we dk what’s gonna happen in this storyline instead of the introduction to a new storyline yk? MAYBEEE I’m just salty we have to wait another year for more you can’t prove anything.
Rick being borderline manic ab RP at the end was my favorite it’s nice to see him just rant ab anything really and like not make some bullshit elaborate Halloween house to take his anger out but just legit vent ab what this guys been doing to him for the past fucking 40 years. I didn’t even notice the ep was over when the credits rolled in my mind we were only like 10 minutes in and I lost my MIND when mr poopy butthole pulled up again good to see he’s thriving (kinda)
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On a final note when he called him Rick prime please let me know if I’m off but is that not an internet term for him? Like the fandom came up with it? Rick and morty writers are tumblerinas confirmed question mark?
And lastly: Neurotypical. Cooties.
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heartbrake-hotel · 1 year
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Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:
Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.
At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.
And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.
aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,
(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))
also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏
far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).
right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check
for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏
if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring
kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.
colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me
but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing
coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.
colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !
and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business
just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]
he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.
he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.
the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers
his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.
he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.
when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.
he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.
the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?
they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !
he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.
he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.
the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.
and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.
he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.
the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.
the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...
when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.
he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.
of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.
if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.
the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...
it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.
colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.
elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.
she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.
surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.
he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.
when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...
...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.
thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.
the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.
of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.
vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.
if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.
elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.
and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.
things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.
he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.
this is where the reader steps in !!!
you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that
but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.
tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.
you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.
you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.
eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.
elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...
ah. there it is
you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?
that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?
you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.
you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo
you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.
the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.
he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.
as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.
"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"
when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.
meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.
you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.
elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.
"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.
"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.
"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"
"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol
you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.
he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"
you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."
and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?
but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.
"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.
as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"
you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move
"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually
the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.
"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."
your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3
you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.
but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.
he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere
he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."
he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."
over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.
"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.
at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.
"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"
the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.
his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.
his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.
"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.
"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.
he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."
"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.
"let's get to it."
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silverbutterfly626 · 11 months
Text
Major Anime and Manga spoilers for Oshi No Ko / My Star:
Before rant pls know I mean no hate towards the mangaka or developers of Oshi No Ko, and quite enjoyed it (both anime and manga) and think it’s a wonderful manga, with unexpected twists and turns. It also shows the secrets of the entertainment district n their lies n horrors. I highly recommend it if ur looking for a dark but sweet manga!
Onto the VERY long rant:
OMG I CANNOT BE THE ONLY PERSON WHO JUST HATES ARIMA. Like omg at the start she was an annoying and condescending child who thought she was better than everyone else, but it only took like 2 seconds of Aqua acting a role he didn’t rlly want to get her to start ducking crying and asking them to retake the scene cus she wasn’t as good. LIKE GIRL NO THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND U! SO WHAT IS U WERENT AS GOOD? U CANT EXPECT THE PEOPLE TO RETAKE IT! (I’m not sure but didn’t the director even say they were on a low budget set or smth). THEN LATER WHEN THEY GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL SHE STARTS ACTONG LIKE SHE LEARNED A LESSON BUT THEN SHE STILL ACTS LIKE SHES BETTER THAN AQUA, RUBY AND ESPECIALLY LIKE SHES BETTER THAN AKANE .(btw lov her if u know how much she did for Aqua). Like but how can u get mad at someone u like cus they’re on a reality dating show, and they end dating someone from that show WHEN U HAVENT EVEN CONFESSED? Then the fucking fact that she still likes Aqua after Akane n Aqua have been dating for a year and a half in public n like half a year for real (or smth like that idk). Then after agreeing to have a “battle” with Akane on the stage (in the Tokyo Blade play thing) she backs down and is like no I’m good. Like bitch no stop oh said yes now ur doing this? No stop. Also am I the only one who’s a little mad that Ruby didn’t get to be the star of B-Komachi, cus it would be like Ai? ( btw lov her too so sad she died the way she did. I wish the stalker fan n the psycho father the worst torture possible for eternity). Then later is like mad that Aqua is avoiding her for “no reason” even tho he’s rlly busy and HAS A GIRLFRIEND! NOT TO MENTION SHES AN IDOL! Then when he finds out his father might still be alive n is on the verge of a breakdown, SHE GETS FUCKING MAD AT HIM FOR SHOUTING AT HER EVEN THO HE WAS CLEARLY THINKING ABOUT SMTH ELSE! LIKE NO HES NOT TELLING U TO SHUT UP, HES TELLING IS SHADOW SELVES. Then after she makes the most stupid decisions, by following a shady MARRIED director to his “work place” cus she was “so desperate to get an acting job” ( btw she knew his intentions n still did it). Then she’s chasing Aqua cus a reporter caught her going in n coming out of the MARRIED director’s work place. It got leaked n she n B-Komachi is now getting hate cus she was being stupid n careless. Then later when Aqua goes n fixes it by stopping the news from reporting it by LITERALLY REVEALING AI’S SECRET! HE REVEALED HOW SHE WAS PREGNANT AT 16, THAT THEY WERE TWINS N 4 WHEN AI DIED! HE LITERALLY REVEALED HIS N RUBY’S IDENTITY WITHOUT EVEN ASKING HER! Like omg dude no. U RUINED AI’S REPUTATION ! THE THING SHE TRIED SO HARD TO BUILD WHILE TRYING FIGURE OUT HOW TO LOV HER FANS N HER KIDS ( WHICH SHE HAD AT 16 YEARS OLD BTW)! Then the fact that Arima goes to Aqua to “thank him”, but it ended up with her 1. comparing the fact that his mom died in front of him cus of his father and that she was no longer getting acting jobs 2. she started making the whole thing about her n how Aqua was ignoring her n “hated” her 3. when she later found out that he didn’t want her reputation to be ruined if she was caught with a boy (cus she was an idol) 4. I’m not sure but I’m pretty sure during that whole conversation she never once apologized or thanked him for everything he did for her.
Ty for listening to my rant n if u agree or don’t, feel free to write a comment! Again I mean no hate to the mangaka or developers! Have a nice day!
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insistonyourcupofstars · 11 months
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Assign a Taylor Swift song to Boyd Crowder 🥰
Oh, justie, what have you done. It is impossible for me to do just ONE song for Boyd, so instead, I'll do one song from each album 💛
[Edit: 1989 and Lover I couldn't figure out, but I did the rest lol. annnnd we're just going to ignore the "one per album" rule because I couldn't contain myself]
Debut: "Cold As You"
I mean...
"You put up the walls and paint them all a shade of gray // And I stood there loving you, and wished them all away // And you come away with a great little story // Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you"
I'm just thinking about teen!Boyd and his growing feelings for Raylan, just for Raylan to leave Harlan and Boyd, when it all became too much. That and the frustration of being kept like a secret when Boyd kept him like an oath...
Fearless (Taylor's Version): "Change" and "You're Not Sorry"
Again, teen!Boyd is something that can be so personal.
"And it's a sad picture, the final blow hits you // Somebody else gets what you wanted again and // You know it's all the same, another time and place // Repeating history and you're getting sick of it // But I believe in whatever you do // And I'll do anything to see it through"(Change)
AND
"Looking so innocent // I might believe you if I didn't know // Could've loved you all my life // If you hadn't left me waiting in the cold"(You're Not Sorry)
Do you ever just think about how bitter and lonely Boyd must have been as a kid?? I always picture him as those lone wolf kind of kids, no one wanting to mess with Bo Crowder's enigmatic boy. But he finally finds a friend, builds a relationship, a friendship, a bond, and what does his friend do? He leaves. He does what Boyd can't, and Boyd resents him. AHHHHHH!!!!
Speak Now: "Haunted" and "Story of Us"
"Stood there and watched you walk away // From everything we had // But I still mean every word I said to you // [Sh]e will try to take away my pain // And [sh]e just might make me smile // But the whole time I'm wishing [sh]e was you instead" (Haunted)
Something something Boyd is moving on to Ava because she is an unsevered tie between him and Raylan...
"And you're doing your best to avoid me // I'm starting to think one day I'll tell the story of us // How I was losing my mind when I saw you here // But you held your pride like you should have held me" (Story of Us)
1.01 BOYD!!!
Red (Taylor's Version): "Run"
It's giving Ava/Boyd feels...
"There's been this hole in my heart // This thing was a shot in the dark // Say you'll never let 'em tear us apart // And I'll hold onto you while we run (and we run, and we run, and we run) // Like you'd run from the law (and we run, and we run, and we run)"
1989: ----
sorry, I don't think 1989 fits with Boyd at all.
Reputation: "I Did Something Bad"
I, personally, like to think of "he" as Bo, especially considering how Boyd was with him in season one. Boyd would do anything to stick it to Bo, and that is exactly what this song is about.
"I never trust a narcissist // But they love me // So I play 'em like a violin // And I make it look oh so easy // 'Cause for every lie I tell them // They tell me three // This is how the world works // Now all he thinks about is me"
Lover: ----
idk.
Folklore: "exile," "seven," and "hoax"
1. do I say ava/boyd or raylan/boyd?? neither - it's a boyd&johnny song
"I think I've seen this film before // And I didn't like the ending // You're not my homeland anymore // So what am I defending now? // You were my town // Now I'm in exile, seein' you out" (exile)
2. Okay, so canon kind of confuses me on how long Raylan and Boyd have known each other, so this could go into headcanon territory, but imagining little Boyd trying to comfort little Raylan because they both have shit fathers, and they want to run away together to be pirates :(((
"And I've been meaning to tell you // I think your house is haunted // Your dad is always mad and that must be why //And I think you should come live with // Me and we can be pirates // Then you won't have to cry // Or hide in the closet // And just like a folk song // Our love will be passed on"(seven)
3. "hoax" reminds me of Boyd after Bo murders his group in season one, and I like to think of this as Boyd losing his faith in God.
"Stood on the cliffside // Screaming, "Give me a reason" // Your faithless love's the only hoax // I believe in // My only one // My kingdom come undone // My broken drum // You have beaten my heart" (hoax)
Evermore: "cowboy like me" -> this feels too obvious, is there an edit for this yet??
I mean, this is just Boyd and Raylan through the series.
"And the skeletons in both our closets // Plotted hard to fuck this up // And the old men that I've swindled // Really did believe I was the one // And the ladies lunching have their stories about // When you passed through town // But that was all before I locked it down"
Midnights (3am edition): "Midnight Rain"
It's about how Boyd is an ever-evolving chameleon, and Raylan refuses to change himself, sticking out like a sore-thumb
"My town was a wasteland // Full of cages, full of fences // Pageant queens and big pretenders // But for some, it was paradise // He stayed the same // All of me changed like midnight"
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terrence-silver · 1 year
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idk if you've read/watched crazy rich asians - if you have what do you think terry would be like with a crazy rich asian!beloved? perhaps one that's richer than him? hell maybe even their family looks down upon him because they don't think he's good enough for beloved
Elopement can always be the answer.
Because Terry is bound to care for beloved's folks only as much as beloved does themselves and no more, and if beloved ever felt oppressed by their demanding, obscenely rich family, he has no qualms just collecting beloved and flying off to the The States with them once charm, pleasantries and dialing up his likeability factor fails. It is that easy for him. They are a consenting adult. They’re here of their own volition (Not that kidnapping is out of the question, mind you). He is, surprisingly, breaking no international laws (not that that ever stopped him before either, I reckon. He is willing to break as many as it takes). Beloved is his and he took what it is his. Of course, he knows all about oppressive, wealthy dynasties, because his might've been just like that too in a sense, so this is an issue that goes beyond cultures, traditions and boundaries. Then again, so do love, attachment and devotion. So does the insult and the slight in someone considering Terry lesser (Can you imagine?), which he doesn't like, and in fact, he loathes on an intimate level, because he's been building himself up all his life to never be lesser than anyone ever again. To never be not good enough. At this point, if it cannot be helped and if these relationships with his now disapproving in-laws cannot be remedied, he is entirely apt to just taking beloved and leaving. But, let us remember; Terry still has the reputation of a controversial and somehow ironically respectable man he cultivated for better or for worse. If he can have revenge without actually getting his hands dirty, in a roundabout way, by effectively destroying his beloved’s family’s reputation by presenting them as the villains of this story to whatever paid-off, bribed media, paparazzi or periodicals take interest in the union of two figures from such polarizing backgrounds, then so be it. If Terry can tactically present his story as the ‘Tale of the Ages’ and ‘Love Conquering All’ type of spin to the public purely to spite their parents and paint himself as the noble hero, he will. Hey, and for all intents and purposes, this is all true. Beloved’s parents might truly be the villains here...or they might just be concerned parents. No matter. They’re now deemed the foils of a couple’s happy ending in the press and housewives worldwide can clutch their pearls over this enough to sway the good opinion of the world in Terry’s favour. He achieved all of this by merely bringing out what he sees as his right to be with the one who is his.
And washing out the stain of being the bad guy(s) in someone’s fairytale isn’t easy.
Why harm them? They’re Terry’s in-laws. They belong to him now, just like beloved.
Unfortunately for them, so does the reputation he’s just irrevocably messed up.
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larentyouglad2 · 8 months
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The last anon mentioning Harry coming out wasn’t me (not to start a war anon)
About the convo comparing Taylor and Harry if or when people (fans) really cancel them, Harry follows the footstep of Taylor-formula (be/do nothing but be everything to everyone at the same time) in his name-building, i will give you that, but the reputation Taylor has with gp is more favorable, plus people are less prejudiced towards the music she is making, than that of H which gives Taylor much more luxury with her missteps, Harry might be popular in that people know of him but his fame is notorious at best, the general gist of it is gonna sound harsh sorry about that but a man-child who wears dresses to be controversial or a wanna be rock star/home-wrecker womanizer who needs to queerbait whilst only dating white old women as he can’t keep it in his pants but needs an edge or a young leo dicaprio (this one must stink the most if you get the insinuation behind that)
So Harry desperately needs his fans to believe the best in him bc he already doesn’t have that with gp, one word of any misdoing on his part or people closely associated with him -like ow and shia controversy, he is being dragged right and left, those convos ofc leave an impression on gp and his reputation, his team needs his fans to fight that battle for him on online spaces as he doesn’t have that saving grace going for him either, which should be his work/music, his tiktok charting songs, the connections sony/azoffs have with big media outlets that is giving him platforms might give him a career but hasn’t given him respectability yet, not even grammy’s swayed gp instead they focused on his speech and dragged him more saying him winning them was something bought off by his record label to push him more.
Even with all of these, Taylor was business savvy enough to cut her ties with matt before it became too late. Harry, im guessing, couldn’t do that with ow bc of movie contracts. However they were seeing the damage that rship was doing in fandom space (so many het harries starting to question harry’s character in a way that was a blow to his pristine record with his fans, some left, worst of all for them some were willing to buy into ‘crazy theories’ of larries and calling it pr lol), so everytime we got any holivia which was a lot, they were dropping something to pacify the fans.
Harry’s team is after a fanbase like Taylor’s, that is consisted of all kinds of fans; dedicated, which makes up most of his concert crowds along with social media clout chasers who goes for content/likes; casual, like maybe twenty percent(?); gp concert goers that just want to enjoy what is perceived as good music, a handful, but hasn’t had achieved yet, with the way things are going rn for harry, i dont see that they have faith that harry has what it takes to achieve that.
So while I understand the optics that Harry is famous enough to afford to lose some fans, the reality of his situation is far from that. He can’t even afford to leave the spotlight/or fanlight for one minute as it seems (as opposed to taylor, who can disappear and come back with top charting album), he and his teams operating in the way 1DHQ did with 1D. They seem to think that he has a shelf-life, the fan lore that Harry is a workaholic is just an excuse for this imo bc people are seeing what they were criticizing with 1D happening is happening again with him, he definitely overworks (or is being overworked, hope he doesn’t burn out 😔)
Sorry that I thought the other anon was you lol. Maybe the original anon will see this. I agree with certain points both of y’all have made, like what you said here about the way Harry/hshq are operating makes you think they believe he has a shelf life. I mean idk if they actually believe that because I think they’re quite cocky (or confident if I’m choosing a nicer word), but I think they’re definitely afraid of that. There’s a reason he can’t even go off the grid after a multiple year tour ended for more than a week before he feels the need to get papped 15 times and start some new controversy within fandom or give the gp some juicy gossip with that fucking tattoo. People can say he’s doing it so that he can have some privacy afterwards or some shit, but I personally think it’s because he and his team don’t want anyone to forget about him and focus on something else for 5 minutes 😭
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amusedunderclock · 5 days
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Backlog: Talking About Movies - Sonic The Hedgehog 2 (2022)
Originally I posted this somewhere else Dec 2022, but I'm trying to consolidate right now.
Sonic The Hedgehog 2. I actually did hear some spoilers for this one. Plus, it's taking a plot point from the game Sonic 3 & Knuckles. So I knew that going in. Still I can't lie. While the kid movie aspect is still there, I think the movie is good in spite of that.
Simply I think what held Sonic 1 back was its 90 minute run time and lack of...idk character variety? I guess? It was really just Sonic bouncing off of like, 2 actors. One being a normal ass guy. Didn't hate him though.
While here, well we have Tails and Knuckles.
I said the first movie didn't want to get bogged down in explanations and that hurt it. In this one, they don't explain EVERYTHING, but do a decent amount. The Owl thing was probably planned since the first movie to be explained in 2. Doesn't exactly color the first movie in a new light. But the elaboration in this movie is an improvement.
The jokes are also improved. Did I outwardly laugh? No. Still thought they were funnier.
But I just skipped Sonic and Tails dancing. The bar is probably the one part of the movie I just didn't care about because
1) There was already a similar scene in Sonic 1.
2) Cringe. Sorry.
3) SONIC HAS SUPERSPEED.
But I think that's the key here. For the most part, I did care. They set up a goal for Sonic to achieve. It's not just a fuckin car drive to a building in a city for some rings that means nothing to the villains. It is for the Master Emerald and requires multiple steps.
There are multiple callbacks. Not only to official Sonic lore or just game references. But to the previous movie. And I know that sounds simple for a sequel, I'm just saying its a point over Sonic 1 as the elements come together better.
G.U.N. is a thing now.
I think a criticism for this movie was either that the Sonic characters were the focus, or that the human characters were there at all. Its been hard to tell. But I can say right now, I had little issue with either party here. It's better than chainsaw dude from Sonic 1.
Just speaking in 2024 for a sec, there was a push in the 2010s in the Sonic fandom to suggest any human character besides Eggman is terrible to have in the franchise. I could care less about it. Keep the humans, discard them, whatever. The character could be a Koala or a Doorknob, all that matters is that they're well written or have a strong reason to be in the story. Far as I'm concerned with at least G.U.N., it's a plus that they're there. Especially with what the Sonic 3 movie is working on.
Still, the kiddy element is still there. Humans act like it's a kids movie and that means their screentime could've been a little less. And Sonic is a kid. How old is up for debate. The movie seems to think he's anywhere from 7 to 15. That vague window.
That means Tails is younger, of course, aaaand Knuckles.
Knuckles is weird to me. Because like, Idris Elba is cool, but I think the implication is that Knuckles is around the age as Sonic with that deep a voice. Possible I guess, but It's still odd to me. But I like his voice better than main Knuckles in Sonic Prime. For all that's worth given that show's reputation upon ending.
People may argue the movie is still too simple. But at the end of the day, there's barely Sonic media really diving into how Sonic, Tails and Knuckles would really initially team up character-wise. Outside of comics. (I was only a couple episodes into Sonic Prime when writing this and once again, reputation.) In most games, they're already friends. Before that, the story of how they met was told through sprites and manuals. So I appreciate this interpretation. Still, I think Tails could've use a little more time. Going from someone who didn't see himself as a hero, to fighting Eggman could've been focused on more.
Eggman works. Probably not in the most optimal way, but he works. Although it's Jim Carrey being himself like always. Got more of an Eggman feel from the last movie at some points. Swear by the credits of Sonic 1, he was attempting some kind of Pollock impression and just didn't follow up on it in 2. Still, I understood Knuckles & Eggman teaming up.
That Emerald absorption was kinda interesting. It plays a part to foreshadow Super Sonic and for a moment when you first see Eggman at the coffee place I genuinely went "Damn. What the fuck is Eggman about to do here?" Idk, it helped Eggman look more like a villain despite the comedy. It works.
...What didn't work were the visuals when he first grabbed the Master Emerald. That was off.
Should probably say something more about G.U.N. here. I did not expect them to be everyone at the wedding. This feels like one of those things that people will call obvious. I guess with that one scene with the groom's boys working out and the groom being played by Criminal Minds. But whatever. I can't predict everything. If that was obvious, flew over my head. The main human character is a damn cop and didn't see that shit coming. Fuck you want from me? I was just focusing on the damn Master Emerald the whole time.
But that does make me wonder. For the record, the G.U.N. shit is smart and it probably improves Sonic 1 as the government isn't just siting idly by. But you'd have to assume they probably didn't expect Sonic to show up where they were. So what was their actual plan there?
I guess the options are
A) They DID expect Sonic to show up eventually because he's that dumb.
B) That was all just a ploy to arrest Tom and Maddie away from Sonic. Or in the long term, infiltrate their family and ease Sonic into a false sense of security down the line to ensure his peaceful surrender. Maybe even taking the ring tech.
I guess it would have to be the long term idea if only Tom got taken in when things went south.
Now that I think about it, ring production just goes unexplained in this movie franchise. Pretty sure Sonic just drops a bunch at least twice in this sequel. When the initial bag of rings was so important, it was THE PLOT of Sonic 1. Like, is he picking them back up? Making new ones? Ultimately, it doesn't matter since Knuckles clearly has his own and Tails could probably build a teleporter or something.
Technically, this movie has the same ending as the first. As in "Sonic fake dies, but the power of love makes him stronger than ever." Same time, this one works better only because like I said, Super Sonic. It ties into the lore, and it was foreshadowed by Eggman absorbing the Emerald. Kinda wish it led to a more interesting fight at the end, but the movie had a good amount of fighting otherwise I'd say.
And, of course, the teaser. THAT I knew about. I've even seen the concept art pointing towards a much darker Sonic 3. Don't think it's gonna reach that level, but this movie convinced me it will do more than just have Sonic characters flossing. Idk how it works tho.
At the time I wrote speculation for what they could do with the movie in terms of making the lore fit that movie universe and what would happen in the 70s. Since then, things have leaked. I don't really remember much of it tbh so it'll still be fresh when I eventually see Sonic 3. So I'll just leave it at what I said without the speculation.
I said Idk how the third movie would work. Not even the fact that the man said G.U.N. was established after Sonic 1 (Then again, it could've been a revived project after 50 years). No, it's just that I don't think the movies established well enough that Sonic showing up on Earth was shocking, but they literally made Shadow.
There's room for this to make sense. It's an abandoned project from the 70s in the movie universe. And hell, it'd add an extra layer to how Robotnik worked with the government. But 50 years of Shadow probably means they wouldn't NEED Robotnik to stop Sonic.
The game lore is a whole different thing. Since Sonic is 100% established as a good guy in that world full of fast animals already. He's fighting Eggman, who the government doesn't side with. But even THEY have deterrents because of Shadow. Come on, Sonic gets jailed twice.
Let's sum this up. Is this what people wanted out of a Sonic movie? It's not perfect, but this is definitely in the right direction.
Would I watch it again? I talked about it this much, so obviously. Could I see a better overall movie out of this? Yeah. But it's good for what it is.
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lilyarlison · 4 years
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if we get bale back it’ll be the single best thing that’s EVER happened to me............ever
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yikimiki · 3 years
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thinking so fucking hard about loser/stoner eren and popular/mean girl reader............ how she'll tease him and bully him at school but when they're fucking its always the opposite way around........ he has such a grip on her and shes so whipped for him that the pent up teasing just comes out during sex and he is just being so mean to her
This is a different au from the other loser eren asks — aiming more towards stoner!eren x popular!reader!! Also this got really long?? It’s a mix of headcanons and drabbles so hold on
warnings: smut, dirty talk, mean dom eren, rough sex, crying, creampie, multiple rounds, spanking, hair pulling, mentions of drugs (weed), degradation, use of “bitch”, “slut”, “whore”, “cocksleeve”, no prep, ass play, size kink, dumbification, mentions of spitting, dubcon (just to be sure)
No but imagine... Eren is this outcast, unbothered type of guy that doesn’t give a fuck about the social hierarchy of college or whatever. For some sick and twisted reason, you are particularly interested in him — there’s something about his baggy clothes, long hair under his cap/beanie and his “fuck everything” attitude that gets you going. But you can’t really show that you’re attracted to a complete loser like him, it would ruin your reputation, so you have to pretend as if you love teasing him, mocking him. Which, like, it’s totally funny.
It works for some time, until you are alone in a room with him. It happens in some weird college party that you almost didn’t go to, when you decide to take a break from dealing with your drunk friends and find shelter in a bedroom somewhere. It takes you some time to find one that it’s not locked or... being used, but eventually you open the door to find Eren, just scrolling through his phone with a blunt hanging from his lips. This time, considering it’s just you and him, you skip the provocations and ask him what he’s doing alone in there, you sit next to him in bed and listen as he complains about some friend that dragged him to that obnoxious party.
“I was just passing some time before I found an excuse to leave,” he says, locking his phone and putting it on the nightstand. The smell of weed is filling the stuffed air, and Eren takes another hit before putting his blunt out. “And what are you doing here? Got tired of ruining everyone’s night and decided to ruin mine?”
“It’s always more fun with you.” You smile, one hand landing on his shoulder. Eren tenses under your touch, bright green eyes trying to see if you’re just making fun of him again. Still, there’s something else burning at the bottom of your irises that he has never seen before, something that makes his stomach clench in anticipation. “Besides… now I have you all to myself.”
“What are you getting at?” He asks, but his voice sounds lower, eyebrows furrowed in doubt. You two are close, so much closer than ever before, and he can feel your gentle breathing on his lips when you lean closer. His heart picks up, and his hands are fighting to touch your body. “If this is some sort of prank, I swear—“
“It’s not a prank,” you whisper, looking down at his lips. Eren swallows dry — it’s funny: even after months of teasing, this is the clearer reaction you’ve ever received from him. “Can I kiss you?”
Eren has never heard you ask for anything — especially from him. It takes him some time to warm up to the idea (and to make sure you’re not just fucking with him again), his cock stirring awake in his baggy pants, before he gives you a curt nod. You smile, leaning in and joining your lips in a heated kiss.
And you swear you have the upper hand for some time. You sit on his lap, run your fingers through his hair and watch as he becomes pudding under your touches — just groaning and sighing against your lips as his rough hands squeeze your ass, making you grind your pussy down against his hard cock until you’re soaking through the fabric. But then something in the air suddenly switches and Eren is turning you around, trapping you beneath his large body as his lips eagerly move down to your neck, hands practically tearing your top open so he can suck on your tits.
You whimper and ask him to slow down, but he’s not really listening at this point — if you’re giving yourself to him, he’s going to make good use of his time. Especially when he thinks you should learn one thing or two about how to properly behave, about not always getting what you want, but what you deserve after teasing him for so long. All those months of pent-up frustration are getting to his head, turning into a power trip as he notices that he’s so much stronger than you, that he can do whatever he wants and you’ll just have to take it. And he’s gonna make sure you’ll take it all.
In no time, you’re completely naked, clothes mindlessly thrown around the room and Eren is looking at your body like he can eat you whole. He asks you to “Turn around,” as he takes off his own clothes, and your surprised at the eagerness in which you follow his command. You don’t know what’s going on with you — all those bitter comments you’d throw at him are now long gone, barely a ghost at the back of your mind when you feel him shuffle closer to you. Eren pulls your hips upwards, presses your face down against the mattress and spanks your ass so hard you swear you see stars.
“Eren!” You cry out, both from pleasure and surprise. “What are you—“
“Shut up.” His hands come down against your ass once more, making you whine. “You never fucking stop talking, such an annoying bitch.” Your skin burns as he lays down more hits against your ass cheeks, your hands helplessly holding onto the bedsheets. “This is what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to snap, to treat you like the needy whore you are.”
“Y-Yes,” you stutter. Your pussy is so aroused that you just feel yourself dripping down your thighs, the coldness of the air making you shiver. You never needed someone as much as you needed him. “Eren, fuck me,” you sob.
His large figure leans over you, one hand yanking your hair back as his face stops next to yours. You can feel his cock — huge, throbbing, heavy — in between your sensitive ass cheeks, and the notion that he’s about to stretch you out so wide makes you whine. “Didn’t fucking listen, why don’t you get some fucking manners and try again?”
“Please, Eren, f-fuck me,” you utter, arching your back against his cock. You never noticed how big and strong he is, but now that he’s towering over you, you have no choice but to feel yourself shrinking beneath him. “Please, please.”
He scoffs. “Needy bitch,” but he releases your hair and pushes your face down against the mattress, using his free hand to align himself with your dripping cunt. “Not so fucking chatty now, are you?” You barely have time to answer before he’s pressing his cockhead against your pussy, your hole fluttering around his length as he continues to push in. Eren is huge, definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, and the lack of prep only makes you feel the stretch even more. “Shit, look at this tight fucking cunt,” he breathes out. His hands are squeezing your ass so hard you just know it’ll be sore in the morning, but you don’t care. “Can’t believe you kept this from me for so fucking long.”
You have half the thought of apologizing, but you can’t do it when he bottoms out. By the time that his cock is fully inside you, you can barely utter out an incomprehensible string of “S-So huge, E-Eren— too much— fuck, so big, I can’t take it, I can’t...” before he’s moving his cock in and out of you.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks, spanking your ass once again. The noise is so much louder this time, your moan following it shortly. “Fucking annoyed me for months just because you wanted to milk my cock like a desperate little whore,” he seethes, grabbing your ass forcefully as he drills into your soaking cunt. Eren is going hard and fast, so much so that you feel as if your brain is rattling inside your head, tits bouncing against the mattress as he continues his unforgiving pace. “Always knew you were a slut, I just didn’t know you’d be so fucking— shit — so fucking insufferable.”
“I’m s-sorry,” you whine, tears streaming down your face because of how good it all feels.
He scoffs. “Not yet. But you’ll be sorry.”
And boy how sorry you are. You had no idea that Eren would have that ridiculous amount of stamina, but you don’t even know how many times you’ve cum by the end of the night. Eren fucks you full of his cum again and again, spanking you and pulling your hair every time you misbehave and can’t keep it in like he tells you to — because “you’re such a dumb bitch, can’t even listen when you’re full of cock”.
He makes you cum on his fingers, on his cock, on his tongue, even makes you desperately grind against his thigh to get yourself off just because he likes how dumb you look. He fills every whole he can — spits in your mouth, fucks your throat, fingers your ass as he’s fucking you from the back and promises that next time it’ll be his cock. He’s just so mean, so revengeful of every time you annoyed him that he can’t be nice even if he tried. It’s just too good to have almighty little you turned into a stupid slut for his cock, crying and begging for him to fill you up one more time.
“Listen to me,” he hisses, making you turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are glazed over, barely able to find his with your orgasm building up again. “This is all you’re fucking good for,” he says, and his cock throbs inside you. Eren’s cum is seeping down your thighs, coating his length and making his slide easier as he continues to pound inside your abused cunt. “You’re made to be a cocksleeve, this pussy is made to take my cock. Do you understand?” You agree with a whiny yes. “Gonna stop fucking annoying me now? You can just ask and I’ll fuck you whenever you want, okay?” You nod, only half there, and for the first time that night he calls you “Good girl,” before stuffing you full of his cum again.”
Anyways???? Idk what came over me but yeah. Popular girl reader that is a complete slut for loser eren when theyre fucking. I rest my case.
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meltwonu · 2 years
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12. “Don’t be so rough. there cant be any marks.”
13. “I really don’t care. You still look hot and i’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now.”
72. “You don’t need to cover up the bruises/hickeys.”
notes; idol!jeonghan, manager!reader, brat!(cocky)jeonghan, dirty talk, degradation, cum eating, dacryphilia(crying) kink. First off daylight savings has my ass kicked completely dkjdjf ☠️ also for those of u that don’t have to deal with it, that just means that my fic posting time (7PM PST) might look weird to yall since we shifted forward an hour!! and second of all i love the ‘manager trying to tame an unruly idol’ trope so bad LMAO 😭💕 idk what it is but it do be hittin different 😮‍💨😮‍💨 As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕
*queued post.
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“D–don’t be so rough… There c-can’t be any marks…”
Jeonghan can only chuckle against your skin; breath hot and muffled as he laps at the column of your neck before nibbling on the skin.
“I really don’t care... You still look hot and I’m trying to not fuck you senseless right now.”
He grinds against you - cock straining against his stage pants as you mewl and tremble against the makeup vanity he had you pressed up against.
Jeonghan had a reputation for being flirty amongst the idols and you’d been assigned to be his manager - although, you’d quickly learned why all of his previous managers had quit within the first week that you’d spent with him.
“S–stupid, you–you have to f-finish getting your makeup d-done and–and do rehearsals…”
“So? We have time. C’mon, manager, play with me~ Or would you rather I go find someone else to play with, hmm?”
Your cheeks are warm and the slight annoyance that comes with Jeonghan’s comment makes you bite your bottom lip.
He knew how to push every single one of your buttons.
“This is w-why you’re always getting in trouble, ‘Han…” Mumbling, your eyes follow Jeonghan’s blonde head until he pulls back and his lust-filled eyes are meeting your own.
He smirks; hands already on the waistband of your skirt as you gasp.
“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had to go find someone else to play with since you became my manager~ So, I’d like to think you’re doing your job quite nicely~”
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“Ngh… Fuh–fuck…”
Your body rocks between the vanity and Jeonghan’s own body as you avoid staring at your blissed out face in the mirror - Jeonghan’s cocky smirks and teasing chuckles making your entire body shiver.
“Everyone praises you, y’know?” Jeonghan angles his thrusts perfectly so that the head of his cock slams into your g-spot. “They always talk about how good you are at your job - how good you were for ‘taming’ me since I was gettin’ a little too… troublesome~ It’s so cute~”
You bite down on the sleeve of your shirt to keep in your loud cries; walls clamping down on his cock with each sharp snap of his hips.
“Ah, but what would they do if they knew that it was me ‘taming’ you, princess? Always spreading those pretty legs of yours for me so we can play~ I’ve fucked your pretty ‘lil cunt in every room of this building, haven’t I?”
“J–Jeonghan... Ngh, pl–please...”
Your words and pleas are muffled against the fabric of your sleeve - tears gathering on your waterline when you start to feel his cock throbbing inside of you.
“Always so ready for me - so fuckin’ wet and hot when I slide my cock into your pussy... Once rehearsals are over, I wanna play with you again, okay~? I’m gonna cum so deep inside this cunt right now and I want you to be good and make sure to not let a single drop go to waste~”
You let out muffled cries as his pace doubles; walls clenching around him hard when you feel him starting to cum inside of you. 
“J–Jeonghan, mmngh...!”
The warmth spreads inside of your body as he unloads all of his cum inside of you and it’s enough to throw you over the edge as you follow suit and cum with him - unable to mask your cries as you double over against the vanity.
“Ah, you feel so good, princess~ Sucking my cock in deeper while you cum with me~ Show me how good you feel~” He teases.
You let out choked cries as blissful tears stream down your face; thighs shaking as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm until the two of you are finally coming down.
But Jeonghan doesn’t stop there when he forces your head up - your eyes meeting your fucked out expression in the mirror as you hiccup.
“Aww, look at how cute you look crying from me fucking you so good, princess~” 
He leans over your shoulder; lips kissing the shell of your ear as you moan tiredly.
A stuttered breath leaves your lips when you feel him slowly pull out - his fingers quickly at your entrance as he thrusts two of them in.
“J–Jeonghan, I–hic–I can’t...!”
He thrusts and scissors the fingers - pushing his cum further into your pussy as you cry out for him.
“So cute~ So cute when I’m ruining you~”
Jeonghan finally pulls his fingers out and it’s not long before those same fingers are in front of your face.
“Lick them clean for me, princess~ I want you to see how obedient you are for me~”
Your tongue peeks out from between your swollen lips; lapping at his fingers that are covered in a mixture of your wetness and his cum.
You momentarily watch your reflection in the mirror - bite marks on your neck and drying tears on your cheeks as you whimper and clean off his fingers as quickly as you can before you’re trying to push him away to cover yourself up.
“Awww, princess, you don’t need to cover up the hickeys~”
“S–shut up... I–I can’t let anyone s–see the–the bite marks...”
You avoid his piercing gaze in the mirror’s reflection; eyes downcast to the floor as you bite your bottom lip.
You could already feel his cum dripping down your inner thighs.
And Jeonghan is quick to notice, tsk-ing at you while he starts to redo the button and zipper of his pants.
“Ah, what a waste. You know, I’ll be thinking about that all day now especially after what I said... Mm, what a shame~ You know I tend to act out when I don’t get what I want~”
“J–Jeonghan...”
He licks his lips watching as you squirm; no doubt from the sticky feeling between your legs.
“That’s okay, though~ You’ll take care of me - won’t you, manager?”
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notoriously yours | jay park
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✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.
so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?
and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?
✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]
✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au
✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)
✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)
✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333
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Jay Park is a rich kid.
Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).
Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.
Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.
Well, his friends beg to differ.
In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.
So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)
Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.
Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.
They're doing anything but studying.
In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.
"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.
"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.
"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.
Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.
Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.
"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."
"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.
Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.
"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.
Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."
Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.
"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."
"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.
"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.
One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.
"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.
Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.
Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.
"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.
"What kind of bet are we talking here?"
Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.
Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.
"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."
Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.
"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.
Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.
And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.
Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.
"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.
Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.
Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".
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Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.
He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.
Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.
He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.
Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.
He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.
Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.
Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).
But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?
The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.
Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.
But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.
That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?
And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.
At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.
Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.
He might as well pay someone to date him.
There's no harm in that, is there?
He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.
He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.
And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.
Simple as that.
Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.
And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.
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You love your friends, you do.
Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.
But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.
But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.
"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."
You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.
You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.
You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.
You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.
Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.
And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.
So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.
And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.
For the most part.
Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.
"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.
"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.
Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.
She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."
You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.
Been there, done that.
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College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.
Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.
Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.
It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.
Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.
Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.
Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.
You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:
"Fake date me."
You blink up at him.
Yeah, definitely not expected.
But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.
"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.
You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.
And he's smiling right at you.
Curse him and his smile.
But no, you're not giving into it.
Not yet, at least.
"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.
"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.
"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.
"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"
"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.
In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."
Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"
This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.
"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.
You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!
The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.
"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.
"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"
"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."
"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"
"--desperate? Yeah."
"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"
"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.
"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.
"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.
Jay hates that you're right.
You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.
You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.
Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.
"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."
Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.
Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.
Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.
"Wait, Y/N!"
You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.
He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."
You nearly stop breathing.
Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.
And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.
The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.
Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.
Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.
But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.
First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.
Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).
Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.
All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).
And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.
"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.
The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.
You sigh, then nod.
"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."
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The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.
You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.
Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.
Great.
You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.
"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?
"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."
Bingo.
"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.
But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.
Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.
"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.
"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"
Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."
"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.
Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.
Cute.
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"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.
You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!
"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.
"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.
How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.
"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."
"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."
Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.
"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.
"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."
You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.
"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.
"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."
If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.
"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.
Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."
Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.
"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."
It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.
You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.
Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.
"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.
"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.
"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.
And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.
As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.
And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.
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The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.
The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.
And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.
"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.
The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:
~ ~ ~
"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.
"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.
You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.
You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."
He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."
"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.
Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."
"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.
"3,2,1."
"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.
"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.
"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.
"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.
"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.
"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.
"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.
"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.
When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.
Obviously.
~ ~ ~
"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)
What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.
"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.
Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."
Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."
Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.
He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.
"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."
Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."
Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.
Jake suddenly gasps in realization.
"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.
Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:
"Jay, are you in? It's me!"
Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.
But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--
"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.
Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.
"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.
"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.
Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.
"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."
"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.
Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.
Weird.
"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.
Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"
"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.
"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"
"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."
Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.
Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.
"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.
"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.
Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."
Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.
"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.
"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.
"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:
~ ~ ~
You're late.
This never happens.
But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.
You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.
Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.
You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.
"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.
"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.
"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.
"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.
"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.
Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.
Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.
The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.
"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.
Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.
Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.
"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.
"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.
And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.
And the next.
~ ~ ~
"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.
Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.
You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.
"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.
If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.
Weird.
"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.
Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"
You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.
He wonders why.
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When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).
Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.
"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.
Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."
You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.
"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.
"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.
"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.
The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.
"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.
You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.
"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."
You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.
You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.
"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.
His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.
"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.
"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.
Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.
The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.
"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.
"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.
"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.
You stare back at him in silence. Oh.
Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:
"Huh?"
Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?
You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.
"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.
Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.
You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.
"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.
"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.
Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.
As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.
"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."
Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.
"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.
"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.
"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.
"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.
"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.
"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.
You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"
"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.
You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.
Your heart beats faster at the view.
You wonder why.
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It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.
You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.
It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).
It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.
Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N
Jay [3:09AM]: hi
Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn
Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so
Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up
Jay [3:11AM]: come outside
Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am
Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew
Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice
Jay [3:15AM]: :)
You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.
You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?
(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)
And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.
The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.
"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.
The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.
But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.
"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."
"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.
"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.
A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?
"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.
"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.
"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."
Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"
You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."
Oh. Awkward.
You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.
"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.
"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.
The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.
You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.
You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.
"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.
"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.
You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.
"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"
You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.
But you knew where he was coming from.
You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.
"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.
He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.
"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.
You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."
Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.
Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.
Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.
"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."
His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.
The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.
Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.
You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.
But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.
You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.
"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.
"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.
Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.
That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.
That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.
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When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.
Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.
Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.
In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.
"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.
"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.
Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"
Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."
There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.
"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."
Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.
The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.
"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.
"Huh? Calling what off?"
"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."
But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.
Something he's scared he's already lost.
You.
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The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.
Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.
Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.
Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.
And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.
"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.
"Hi."
"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.
"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.
"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.
Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:
"He called it off. It's over. The bet."
"Oh."
Silence.
Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.
"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."
Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?
Fuck it.
"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.
You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.
"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"
"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."
Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?
"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.
"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.
Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."
"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.
Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."
"Mm, and what's that?"
And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.
His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.
The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.
You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.
Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.
Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.
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The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.
Jay drives you to class that day.
And everyday after that.
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✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3
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