#i should be doing political science homework right now
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Modern College Student/BF Armin Arlert Headcanons
(rewatching aot and damn I forgot how much I love armin. someone pls put me onto some good armin fan fiction? this boy doesn’t get anough attention honestly, lemme know if you guys want me to do anyone else, im thinking eren next?)
Pre law student
I think in the modern world, Armin would only look at his love for the ocean and nature as hobbies. When it comes to investing in his education and making money to support himself and his family, he’d go into a major he’s good at just to be safe. And that’s persuasive arguments, crazy attention to detail and maybe a little manipulation for the greater good so yeah…lawyer it is 🙂
Currently focusing on political science for his BA before law school
Shares a small apartment with Eren and Mikasa cuz they all looked at dorm life and were collectively like “yea, fuck that”
Armin and Mikasa are up first every morning, and they usually share a lil breakfast together before deciding which one should dare try to drag Eren out of bed
Has the best color-coded notes, the type of student to type into the chats links to resources he found helpful when doing the homework, pulls thru with the quizlet right before quizzes
Heavy on that study beats, listens to it even when not studying
Has canva pro and no you cannot use it 🫶🏻
Strict study schedule but he doesn’t go overboard like other honor kids. He gives himself plenty of breaks and plans his workload so he can enjoy his weekends bc he knows he’ll be useless all burnout
His Starbucks order is an iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso, sometimes with a blueberry muffin, boy likes his sweets
The Starbucks staff around the corner knows him personally and even have a lil crush on him since he's there so often, polite and always puts something in the tip jar (he may get a few free cake pops here and there)
Loves the sims and doing little legacy challenges, the type to get emotional when his sim gets married or has kids because he fr raised them
Deep into the lore too, has his theories about Bella Goth and hates Don Lothario with a passion
One time Eren deleted his saved family and Armin didn’t speak to that man for two weeks
Secretly loves fanfiction but only found family fanfiction bc it reminds him so much of his relationship with Eren and Mikasa. Soft spot for anything Harry Potter tho (proud ravenclaw)
I don’t think he’d smoke weed bc I feel like he’d be a paranoid high so it’d be more stressful than relaxing tbh
But he always trip sits his friends!
Will go to parties if dragged along but the most he’ll drink is like a twisted tea or white claw and just kinda watch his friends get hammered like 🫣
The type of guy at the party who’ll get dragged into some drunk crying girl’s story about her bf and he’s just sitting there with his one drink, sober asf like, “omfg bestie! you need to dump him, like i’ll help you draft that text rn”
Smells like Johnson and Johnsons baby soap and like he’s so embarrassed about it but his skin is so sensitive he has to use the goo goo gaga stuff
Other than that he kinda smells like fresh laundry? Uses too much detergent and dryer sheets so his clothes smell like extra good and he doesn’t wear cologne so yeah, hope you like Tide bitches✌🏼
Very loyal to the vanilla bean burts bees chapstick
Has a blue hydro flask that he always has with him, also constantly reminding his friends to drink more water
Totally has scared Eren by telling him about kidney stones and how the dumbass might have to just pee out rocks if he doesn’t drink sum fucking water.
Eren now takes hydrating v seriously :)
Most of his friends will go to him more than their actual advisor bc Armin is just much more helpful tbh and he loves telling them which classes or internships they should take.
Actually prefers articles and podcasts over books bc of practicality and he already has to read so fucking much for school
But is lowkey one of the annoying ppl where like any conversation you’ll have will end with him like, “Oh earlier I was listening to this one podcast and-”
Has painted his nails a few times but I think he’s a nail biter so he kinda stopped after unintentionally eating so much nail polish
Secret passion for skin care, may or may not be a skincarebyhyram stan
Tried countless times to get Eren to at least wear spf everyday but yea, that bitch don’t listen
Mikasa does tho and they actually go to sephora together once every month for lil skincare hauls (baddie w her baddie friend)
Calls his grandpa everyday, even if it’s just for a few minutes bc he knows his grandpa is all alone now that he left for school and armin just wants him to know that he’s doing fine and making him proud
As your Bf
You guys probably met thru a friend of a friend, most likely you befriended Mikasa or Eren and they started bringing you over and eventually Armin would meet you
Bc in no way would Armin actively search for something romantic when his main focus rn is getting his degree but like damn you were just-
Wow
Anyway, as your bf expect literally so many forehead kisses
Kinda clingy bc he is indeed a scorpio, once it’s official between you two every night he’s like “so we sleeping at my place or yours?”
Bc why would you guys just sleep apart from each other?
Armin fr forgot how to
Fav cuddle position is you on your back and him with his head on your chest and arms around your waist
Bonus if you play with his hair and whisper sweet nothings by his temple
I’m on team soft dom armin, boy is a ppl pleaser for sure but still a dom
He’s pretty vanilla and heavy on praise, but if you want him to go hard and degrade you or manhandle you, he would as long as you guys set up a safeword first
His post nut clarity would hit hard tho and he would be so afraid you saw him as some sort of sexist pig afterwards
“WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL AND STRONG, IN NO WAY DO I CODONE-”
“Babe chill all you did was spank me.”
If you have a vagina, he is like super educated on the anatomy🤓
Fr makes you pee after sex
Washes his hands before fingering you and you’re just sitting there trying to stay in the mood like “😀”
Tbh the only things I think would be off the table for Armin is anything unhygienic or like anything involving other ppl bc boy is too insecure and possessive for anyone else to be seeing you like that
Sex on the beach isn’t happening either.
If you try to convince him he would just be like,”Sand will end up everywhere (y/n)! Honestly, it’s like you WANT a yeast infection!”
Having a pre law bf is literally having your own attorney at your beck and call
If you have a problem with a teacher for example, Armin would fr hop on a call with the college and be like “sweetie, who was the head of your department again?”
Next thing you know the poor teacher is fired lol
Can and will fight all your battles
The perfect study buddy, like he'll make flashcards for you without you even asking or telling him what the next test was about?
You never have to edit or revise your essays again, Armin is just proud that you wrote it all out, he’ll take care of it from there so all you have to do later is submit
Armin made one day of the week your guys’ date night and literally someone would have to die in order for him to reschudle bc the boy takes it sooo seriously
Literally Eren can call from the hospital and Armin will just be like “you know what day it is? Right, it’s Thursday. Which is date night for me and Y/n. So unless that broken arm turns into organ failure, don’t call me!”
Date nights are museums, cafes, planetariums, sometimes you guys will even take a class together
But honestly, the best dates are the ones you guys have at home bc he likes just having you all to himself
Boy is jealous, but more so possessive
Like, it takes a very certain action to piss him off enough to act outwardly bitchy
Boys can make you laugh, they can compliment you, they can try to impress you
But if a boy were to try to protect and care for you?
Armin will snap
Thats literally his job and he sees it as a threat
Will go out of his way to make the dude look really incompentent.
Your study partner brought you a snack bc they know you missed breakfast?
“Y/n doesn’t like that brand, it hurts their tummy. Maybe you should ask before just shoving whatever in their face😒”
Its cold out and some guy offers you their jacket?
“Woah there, prince charming, I don't think your 10 dollar Old Navy hoodie is gonna cut it. Darling, why don’t we head inside and get you a hot drink? 😇”
A guy friend stops by with some medicine bc he heard you were at home sick?
Armin’s there at the door like, “My baby’s immune system is really weak right now, the last thing they need is strangers just coming over and making them sicker. How thoughtless are you?🤬”
Fights don’t really happen bc Armin is so good at de escalating situations, he’s also just such a simp for you that you’ll always gets your way
The only fights he won’t back down from are the ones where he feels like your safety is at risk
Over his dead fucking body would you do anything even remotely dangerous
This is where I see manipulative Armin. He’d use his skills to convince you that you didn’t even care about what you were arguing for in the first place
At first he might feel a little guilty but after realizing you’re objectively safer from his manipulation, he doesn’t feel as bad
Kinda yandere tbh, but really soft and not dangerous
Your location should always be on tho☺️
Fav Nicknames for you: darling, baby, princess/prince
Songs that fit the vibe: Turning Page by Sleeping At Last, Bad Habit by Steve Lacy and As The World Caves In by Mat Maltese
“Yes, it’s you I welcome death with, as the world caves in.”
“Nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart.”
“Thought you were too good for me my dear, never gave me time of day my dear.”
#armin headcanons#armin arlert#armin aot#aot#attack on titan#modern attack on titan#armin x you#yandere aot#yandere armin#attack on titan headcanons#college armin#anime headcanons#yandere attack on titan#daddy armin#yandere anime#headcanons
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do you know when the next chapter of the trial run will be uploaded ?? ik you just posted chapter three but I’m too excited 😆
it'll probably be sometime later next week or next weekend I'm afraid as I have a lot of homework, but in the meantime I can offer a longer sneak peek of chapter four!
Bradley’s beginning to think that this boyfriend thing is way easier than most guys make it out to be. All he has to do is let you know that he’s thinking about you, text you good morning and good night with some cringey emojis, and flirt with you whenever he can. In fact, he can’t help but feel like he’s the clingy boyfriend because you don’t entirely reciprocate any of it. You respond simply to his text messages and he only ever gets a small smile from his flirting. You seem happiest when he tells you that he’s thinking about you, but then he sees you with Bob or Mickey and suddenly they’re blowing him entirely out of the water.
Bradley does not consider himself to be a jealous person, but when two literal freshmen are getting you to laugh until your stomach hurts and he can barely get you to smile, it’s a blow his ego can’t stand. So, even though it's something he never does, Bradley invites you over to Sigma Chi for a chill date night. Maybe you’re just not a text message girl.
And that might honestly be a good thing. Bradley’s learned through Makayla’s constant pestering that he’s not much of a text message guy either and, though the insincere emojis are easy, they’re starting to become a bit of a chore. As of now, Makayla’s actively belittling his attempts—with far too many emojis—by stating that he should have taken you to dinner or something more impressive, but you always seem a little overwhelmed if you’re in a public place without Giselle so, much like constant texting, Bradley doesn’t think you’ll even want that.
Instead, he raids the house kitchen for snacks, finds a movie he thinks you’ll like on Netflix, and calls it a day. And he’s so sure that this will work, that this will finally be enough to get you to treat him like you treat Bob and Mickey because Bradley is capable of being a good boyfriend. But then it’s 7:00 pm and you have yet to show up. And then 7:30. And then 8:00. And Bradley’s checking his phone again, grumbling over the fact that he just got stood up in his own bedroom. Just when he’s about to call it for the night, the door to his room flies open and you stumble in out of breath.
“I’m so sorry,” your eyes are lit up in panic, backpack slung haphazardly over your shoulder. “I completely lost track of time, I swear I didn’t mean to be late.”
“Well, you— Were you crying?” Bradley squints when the dim lights of his room reflect against your wet cheeks and waterlogged lashes.
You swallow, wiping at your eyes hastily as you shake your head. “No, I think it’s allergies. I—”
“C’mere.”
You listen to Bradley’s words instantly, padding into his room softly until you're right in front of him. From this distance it’s obvious to Bradley that you have been crying, your cheeks and nose puffy and your eyes red, and it appears his mention of it has brought the tears back as your eyes have become glassier with every step. Bradley gives your hair a gentle tug.
“You wanna try that again?” He asks softly.
Your shoulders rise and fall in a pitiful shrug. “I take my political science final in two days and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fail it.” You go to wipe at your cheek again, but Bradley does it for you, wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “I’m really trying too, I just… I looked at the study guide and I didn’t understand anything.”
Bradley nods slowly. He wants to be mad, you embarrassed him—granted not publicly, but still. He set up this whole thing for you and you were an hour late. But he can’t be mad, not when he knows that you’ve been crying over a textbook that whole time.
Carefully, Bradley takes your backpack off your shoulder and holds it in one of his hands. You’re looking up at him with doe eyes, head cocked in confusion, and he wipes another tear from your cheek. “You wanna change, sunshine?”
You’re in jeans and t-shirt that don’t look entirely comfortable and his closet full of clothes is right there. He can’t imagine you’ll be very comfortable sitting on his bed in denim. You glance at his closet.
“What do you mean?” You’re only more confused when Bradley lifts your bag up to open it.
“Well, problem number one is that you’re studying in jeans.” Bradley sets your bag on his bed, murmuring offhandedly as he flips through your textbook. “Where’s your study guide?”
You sniffle, pointing at the folder peeking out of your bag.
With the hand not holding your open textbook, Bradley reaches for it, scanning the stapled pieces of paper. “The bathroom's the next door over.”
“What…” Your eyes dart from his closest to him to the textbook and study guide in his hands.
“You can stay in your clothes if you want.” After looking through them briefly, Bradley sets your textbook and study guide on his bed and brings his attention back to you. “I just figured you’d be more comfortable studying in something else.”
You swallow, looking up at him as you roll your bottom lip through your teeth. “You’re helping me study?”
“Perks of having a boyfriend who’s already taken this class,” Bradley grins.
It takes a moment for you to look anything but confused and internally Bradley feels a tinge of panic because maybe this isn’t what boyfriends do. And if it’s not then he has no idea what he should be doing instead. Right when he was about to say something that he’d figure out when he opened his mouth, you lunge forward suddenly and hug him tightly.
“Thank you,” you say against his cotton t-shirt.
Your voice is shaky and Bradley can tell that you’re starting to get overwhelmed like you do, so he wraps his arms around you slowly. “You don’t gotta thank me, sunshine.”
“Can I… Can I change?” You look up at him and something stirs in Bradley’s stomach. “I think you’re right that my jeans aren’t that comfortable.”
Bradley shakes off whatever he’s feeling, releasing you gently to grab an old shirt from his closet. He holds it up for you as if to ask if it’s okay and you nod with a small smile, taking it from him before slowly leaving the room. Bradley waits for the door to close behind you before moving to sit on his bed, lost in thought.
He feels weird, like something fuzzy in the pit of his stomach. It’s a feeling he’s only mildly familiar with, it happens when he makes you laugh too. It could be accomplishment. This feeling means he’s getting somewhere with you. And getting somewhere with you means he’s getting somewhere with Makayla. And that’s why he feels this way.
Bradley flips the page of your study guide.
But what he’s feeling about you isn’t important, not when he’s finally been given boyfriend status. Because you came to him, not Bob or Mickey or Giselle. You got overwhelmed with school and you chose to come to Bradley. In fairness, the two of you already had plans, but Bradley Bradshaw counts his wins.
The door of his room opens again and you shuffle in, your clothes balled up in your hand as your bare feet step onto his floors unsurely.
“You can— Uh,” Bradley stutters a bit when he looks up, that weird feeling coming back and he has to blink a few times to clear his head. “You can put those anywhere.”
The t-shirt of his you have on reaches your mid-thigh and something sparks in Bradley’s mind at the sight. The whole thing looks like a dress on you and Bradley knows there’s a good chance he’ll never get this shirt back, but just the thought that you’d be the one wearing it fills Bradley with thoughts he knows he should not be having about you.
You make your way over to the bed after setting your clothes down on an empty chair, gnawing at your lip as Bradley fights with his endocrine system to try and stay composed. “Thank you for studying with me. You really don’t have to.”
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TECHNICAL FOUL! | Part 1 - Jump Ball
Pairing: Basketball Coach!Jin x Teacher!Fem. Reader
Rating: 16+
Genre: Enemies to ???, Coworker AU, fluff, angst, implied intimacy
Summary: When one of your best students in class failed his mid-term exams, you only had one person to blame- Coach Jin. He thinks he's the king of the world-tall, handsome, brooding, borderline arrogant and seems to be always getting things done his way, but you are adamant to give him a piece of your mind. The only problem is that you easily get tongue-tied in his presence.
PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @bts-reveries @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111
•••
Jump Ball — noun. when two opposing players jump for a basketball that was tossed into the air by a referee; also a way to award possession after two opposing players simultaneously gain possession of a ball.
—
“Columns C to K… Average… hmmn…” you mumbled to yourself as you reviewed the source of the pivot table you’re working on. “Something’s not adding up.”
“Are you okay over there?” Jimin’s head popped up on the cubicle wall that divided your workspace and his. “I kept on hearing you talking to yourself. Jungkook is rubbing off on you already.” As if on queue, you overheard your friend and a co-teacher apologize to the coffee maker in the break room, earning a laugh from both you and Jimin. “See?”
“I feel like I’m missing something on this spreadsheet.” You sigh. “One of my top students’ final grade for the mid-term is not adding up. He falls short on the homework and the mid-term exams.”
“Do you have all the grades from the other subject teachers already?” Jimin asked, making his way to your desk and crouching down to take a peek at your monitor.
“I do, yes,” you blew a puff of air to the strand of hair that fell in front of your eyes. “I guess I’ll just have to look at their files one by one. I didn’t see anything wrong with my formula.”
“Which student are we talking about? Jungkook walked over and sat on your desk while sipping his coffee. “Soobin?”
“Yeah…” You quickly pulled up his records and zeroed in on his Science final grade– Jungkook’s subject. “Here, look,” you turned the monitor to the side a bit so Jungkook could take a closer look. “His first and second terms were averaging ninety-four eighty-two and ninety-six percent respectively. Then suddenly, it dipped down to ninety-one twenty-six for this term.” You leaned back on your seat, observing the way Jungkook scrutinized the file. “All his subjects dipped this term. I may have to speak with his parents soon.”
“He failed two quizzes and failed to submit one homework for me,” Jungkook lightly tapped the monitor. “He’s not usually like that. Check the case with the other subject teachers, and yes, you should definitely speak to the parents.”
“It’s probably why you think your final numbers are not adding up,” Jimin added.
“You’re right. I’m gonna schedule a meeting with the parents,” you saved your file and turned your computer off. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. I have another class in ten minutes. See you both in a bit!”
–
You hate going to the principal’s office– no, not hate. More than that. Loathe. You were a good student growing up! You never experienced getting summoned at the principal’s office. Why now? On a Monday too. Your heels clacked against the hardwood floor of the principal’s office as you approached his desk. He lifted his head from a pile of papers he’s leafing through, specs falling along his nose bridge in the process, before smiling warmly at you.
“Good morning, Mr. Min,” you greeted him politely with a bow.
“Good morning, Ms. ________.” He stood up and made his way to the lounge area a few steps away from his desk. “Please have a seat,” Mr. Min gestured to one of the cushioned seats. “Let’s wait for Mr. Kim for a bit,” he looked at his watch. “He should be here soon.”
Your brain started whirring. Which Mr. Kim? Kim Namjoon, the gorgeous Vice Principal with the cute dimples? Kim Taehyung, the eccentric Arts teacher who’s a part-time influencer and has been modeling for magazines? Kim Mingyu, the new PE teacher who gets a lot of stares from the student’s parents, mothers and fathers alike? Kim Seokjin, the world-according-to-me manchild, arrogant and conceited basketball coach who labels himself as Worldwide Handsome and –
“Coffee?” Yoongi interrupted your thoughts with his offer.
“No, I’m good. Thanks for offering, Mr. Min.” You took a seat, careful not to crumple your dress, and fiddled with the pendant of your necklace– a tell that you’re a little anxious about the situation. “May I know why you called us though? Is it something serious?”
Before the principal even processed your questions, the door to his office flew open and in came Kim Seokjin, dressed in a coordinated lavender sweatpants and hoodie. “Ahh Yoongi-ah!” His booming voice echoed in the spacious room. “This better not be just about your—” and then, he noticed you. “Oh, teacher. Sorry, sorry,” he bowed his head in apology. “Good morning, Ms. ______. Was I too loud?”
“Hyung, how dare you call me by my first name in front of Ms. _____? We’re at work! Do you wanna get written up, huh?” Mr. Min— well, Yoongi— scolded the basketball coach, with a hint of playfulness.
“How dare you call me Hyung? We’re at work!”
“Gentlemen, I do have my next class in an hour, so if you don’t mind… Mr. Min, why are we here?”
“Right,” Yoongi rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt up his arms before sitting across from you, gesturing to Seokjin to sit down too. “Mrs. Han called and asked about his son’s grades. She said she found some unfinished homeworks and failed quizzes in her son’s room, and she’s worried that he’s not able to balance his academic activities and his extracurricular activities.”
“Han Soobin?” Seokjin quirked his eyebrows at Yoongi. “He’s one of the top students, right? The kid’s got a good grip too.”
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to his parents about that,” you said, concern lacing your features. “I’ve been reviewing the grades for this term and his trend is not looking so good. I have spoken with Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park and they both said Soobin has been lacking in their classes, which is totally unlike him.”
“Has he been skipping classes?”
“No, he’s always present in class.”
“Has he been skipping practice?” The question intended for Seokjin.
“No, he’s always early. Sometimes he comes to the court even without practice scheduled… Oh.” Seokjin’s gaze flitted between you and Yoongi. “I see, there must be where the problem lies, huh,” he tongued his cheeks.
What the fuck? What is he so hot for?
“So him practicing out of schedule could be the reason why he’s failing his classes,” you turned to Seokjin. “Mr. Kim, can we do something about this? This kid is one of our top students and is a potential candidate for Valedictorian next year.”
“Ms. _______, did it ever occur to you that the kid could be overworked and stressed out with all the classworks, and homeworks, and basketball is the only thing that makes him feel like a kid instead of a machine?”
“Mr. Kim, you don’t want to assume such situations. Soobin is a smart, vibrant child, and he is performing well academically. If there’s any signs of distress, he hasn’t shown it. If there is, we are always in constant communication with the parents and we work hand in hand with them to go through that.”
“Ms. ________, do you only step—”
“Okay, okay, enough…” Yoongi interrupted. “Ms. ______, why don’t you talk to the child one on one? Find out if he’s struggling in any of his subjects.” Yoongi nodded. “I’d love to set up a meeting with the parents, but let’s find out what the child feels first, okay?”
“Yep, sounds good.” You agreed. “What are you gonna do about the unscheduled basketball practice?” You directed the question at Seokjin.
“Nothing,” he stood up and shrugged nonchalantly. “As far as I know, my basketball sessions have no problems, whatsoever.” He made a beeline to the door. “See you later, Mr. Min… Ms. ______,” he winked at you before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
UGH.
•••
A/N — This was supposed to go up yesterday on his birthday, but I really just spent the entire day in bed, watching some unresolved crime documentaries on Netflix, trying to forget the fact that it’s gonna be Seokjin’s last birthday celebration with us before he leaves for his military enlistment. 🥺 Anyway, I’m gonna try my best to inject life into this baby series. I hope you like it!
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1/?
I am feeling very cringe and very much struggling in an engineering university that I am in right now, and I MUST get to a better one. For that I need to do well here and do a lot of extra stuff so I am starting the academia 100 day productivity type thing where I write a debrief at the end of each day to say how I only did 20% of what I was planning again, but not 100 days and just indefinitely, 100 days would be just a nice milestone, BUT ALSO WITH A TWIST!
I AM EXTREMELY DUMB AND IRRESPONSIBLE AS OF WRITING THIS
I am studying aerospace engineering snd I am very unfancy. I have seen a lot of posts starting this sort of thing and watched tons of videos. People have plans and stuff figured out, extremely effective schedules and stuff and I have been miserably failing on thay front. People have cute tidy tables, lots of gadgets to help them focus, going to libraries and reading stuff. I.... have none of that. My table is a mess, I have practically given up on using textbooks, my monthly money allowance is negative, the most fancy piece of technology are my laptop and my phone(birthday gift :3), I don't even need them to be fancy right now, our university library is unavailable to study at, my dorm apartment is the size of a dumpster and full of cockroaches, and I share it with 2 other people.
I think you got the idea. I am tired of blogs with soft tidy and often rich (by my standards) study experience. I have no grudge against people who do them however, that would be dumb, I just want more representation of the raw dirty grind where my routine environment is a STALKER-like experience.
So anyways my goals are simple so far: survive the midterms and maybe be french sometimes. For that I start off small: 3 hours of out of class studying per day at least, not a lot but if I start big I will quickly flop and be ashamed of myself. 3 hours studying whatever I see fit for the day is enough for now. I believe that some accountability to strangers on the internet will help me have a bar below which I do not procrastinate and eventually grow into a more responsible hard working person. A bit of a cringe way to do that I feel, but as an engineer, a man of science, I must first "fuck around and find out" to judge the method. I am glad to say I already did study today but relatively inconsequential. Finished my physics homework (fingers crossed I won't have to redo it), did some lineal algebra homework, didn't finish it though, went through some notes on statics, rewrote homework for theoretical mechanics, does doing a bit of Duolingo counts as studying?
How the uni and dorm look like
Some background on me if you for some reason want to know how am I in aerospace engineering while being unresponsible and why I need to get to a better uni. I pretty much failed most of my school but at the last 2 years started getting good, not good enough to be accepted to Purdue or UIUC as I started getting ambitious too late. Failed to go to a community college because of unfortunate political decisions made by the assholes running my country. Now I am enrolled in the (supposedly) best engineering university of Russia and have to make my escape, because I really don't want to study engineering here. Living? We'll see in like 10 years, maybe I'll come back. I haven't seen people in a situation similar to mine but if you are one of them then I will be glad to serve as an inspiration.
I may be dumb and have severe problems with socialisation and organisation. But I know one thing about myself: I never give up and neither should you
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Act 1, Scene 1
(CASSIDY is sitting on her bed finishing up her Political Science homework when suddenly, her roommate JASMINE walks in.)
Jasmine: Hey Cass! Are you hungry? I was wondering if you wanted to get Chic later at Morgan.
Cassidy: Dude, I haven't eaten anything since 12. I would love to go, let me just finish my essay first if that's okay.
Jasmine: Okay great! My friend Andy might tag along with us if that’s alright with you. We’re going to a party after dinner.
Cassidy: You're going to a party on a Thursday night?
Jasmine: Yeah, what’s wrong with that?
Cassidy: Jasmine, you do realize it’s a Thursday so there won't be a lot of people at the party tonight right?
Jasmine: Nonsense, there will definitely be people at the party tonight. It’s literally a Temple party so automatically people are going to show up no matter what time or day it is.
Cassidy: Whatever you say, party expert…
Andy: (knocks on Jasmine and Cassidy’s door)
Jasmine: Oh that must be Andy! (opens door to let Andy inside)
Jasmine: Hey weirdo.
Andy: Hey! My god, it feels like I haven't seen you in forever.
Jasmine: It’s been two weeks…
Andy: (rolls eyes) You are so sarcastic.
Jasmine: (chuckles) Andy, I don't think you met my roommate before. This is Cassidy.
Cassidy (waves and smiles) Hi! It’s nice to meet you.
Andy: Hi! It’s nice to meet you too. Wow, dude, I love your Kurt Cobain poster.
Cassidy: Thank you so much! I got it on Amazon for $10.
Andy: Nice deal.
Jasmine: Now that you two lovebirds are acquainted, can we get some food? I’m starving here.
Cassidy: We are not love… Never mind, let's head out.
(Andy, Cassidy, and Jasmine exit the dorm and walk to Morgan Hall)
Act 1, Scene 2
(Andy, Cassidy, and Jasmine wait for their Chick-fil-A in line)
Cassidy: I can’t wait for Spring break. I only have one midterm left for this week.
Andy: What’s the midterm for?
Cassidy: My race and diversity class.
Andy: Oh sweet! Who’s your professor?
Cassidy: Montwell
Andy: I had Montwell last semester. He’s a pretty chill guy!
Jasmine: (interrupts conversation) Sorry to interrupt, but is anyone doing anything for St. Patrick’s Day?
Andy: (laughs) That’s such a random question. But to answer that, no I am not. Why’d you ask?
Jasmine: Because I just looked on my Instagram and one of the frats is hosting one. All three of us should go. I’ll plan my outfit tomorrow.
Cassidy: Jass, you didn't even make it to the party you are going to tonight and you're already thinking about another one?
Jasmine: So? Cassidy you have to realize when I’m at parties, I am a completely different person. I feel so free-spirited and the vibes are always really good. What’s not to love about that?
Cassidy: I don’t know, maybe I’m just a stay-at-home, curl-up-in-bed-and-read-a-book type of girl.
Andy: There’s nothing wrong with that, I would rather take that over a party any day.
Jasmine: Guys our food is done!
Cassidy: Finally.
Act 1, Scene 3
(Cassidy, Jasmine, and Andy sit down at a table in Morgan and eat their food)
Jasmine: Did you guys hear about the fight that happened here the other day?
Andy: No, what happened?
Jasmine: High schoolers were jumping each other, and a girl almost threw a chair at another girl during the altercation.
Cassidy: Oh my god? This school is really going downhill.
Andy: Eh, I think it’ll get better as time goes on, this school has a lot of great things to offer.
Jasmine: (slams phone on the table) Ugh!
Cassidy: Jass, what’s wrong?
Jasmine: I’m talking to this guy on Bumble right now and he has no personality whatsoever. He gives one-word responses and most of our conversations are about him being an athlete.
Cassidy: Maybe you should start telling him about yourself more? Things that you enjoy, things that you hate, and all of that nature.
Jasmine: True, I can’t even lie. I love talking about myself and myself only to men because it makes me feel empowered.
Andy: (laughs) Well that’s definitely one way to put it.
Jasmine: (checks the time) Oh shoot, we're gonna be late to the party. We should head out.
Andy: I honestly didn't even notice I lost track of time.
Jasmine: Yeah, you lost track of time before you were too busy being distracted by Cassidy’s beauty
Cassidy: (widens eyes) Oh…
Andy: (rolls eyes and sighs) Okay, I think we should leave now.
Cassidy: Have fun guys! It was nice meeting you, Andy. Don’t drink too much Jasmine.
Jasmine: Can’t make any promises…
Andy: It was nice meeting you, too.
(Andy and Jasmine leave Morgan Hall to walk to the party)
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Welcome welcome to the small port town of Evergreen Harbor! Already its residents are hard at work changing it’s world. AKA, I am a certified NAP supporter here. And I especially like the ones in Evergreen Harbor that have NAPs that change the status of it’s world. Kinda wish we could do that for others, building them up in an industrial or green way. Alas and alack, politics simulator is limited here.
For all of it’s changes, Evergreen Harbor is an extremely popular place for townies and other folk to move in and out of. In particular, it seems to be a gathering hub for the young university going students. Such as this duo!
Mete-Brandt: Session One
The History thus Far:
Belle Brandt was the initial member of this household, completing her Computer Science degree...in Britechester! But with her aspiration, I had a good reason as to why she might have gone for a degree in a college she didn’t get the prestige version from! Her aspiration was to be a famous actress! Alas, sometimes we must do what we must in order to pay the bills and a Computer Science degree is definitely one that leads to cushy careers.
But during her time in Britechester, she met and fell in love with a dramaturge! Rua Mete is a student of the Drama course, Belle’s dream! Alas, there was no way I was going to manage two degrees at one time and so, I put his degree on hold… (and also he’s on probation, like many a townie going to uni would be.) Now it’ll be Rua’s turn to finish off his degree!
But what’s this?
Rua’s mad about Belle cheating!? What is this?
Well, let’s just say I had a vampire drop in with alluring aura when both were around. Both were smitten by said vampire’s good looks and promptly flirted with her...in complete view of each other. Honestly, surprised that not both of them are grumpy with each other but hey.
So for this session! The plan is to get Rua up and out of uni! Which should be easy enough considering he only has three courses left to do in his studies.
So let’s get in and get started!
First to get Rua in university. Normally I tend to make the third class an elective but the third class at this point is charisma and he’s not even at level 2 in charisma at this point! Most of his skilling that’s relevant to his degree seems to be level 4 in comedy and level 8 in fitness.
...meaning I know what I’m doing with him after I get him out of Uni already.
And he’s already grumpy about being near his wife. Glorious.
Anyway, it’s a weekend so I see voting is open so might as well check the NAPs and…
...that explains the high fitness skill in particular! Sims who spawn and hang out in this area will just drop and do push ups and pull ups randomly. Also, I don’t particularly feel like changing any of these. Or going around and going up to random sims and going “HEY! HEY! Please sign my petition!” We got a degree to finish! Oh and turn around.
Anyway, I feel Rua should take some time for himself so we’re heading out for the local library!
You may be wondering where and why this library exists? Well I keep a notepad document detailing out the local venues and general location everything is in approximation to everything. And for a bit, we didn’t have too many in the way of libaries in the local area. Enter this venue done by Hebbe-san on the Gallery! It’s wild and cooky enough to fit within Evergreen Harbor’s aesthetics and draws in folks from many places for it’s eccentric vibe! A fun place for a Uni student to take some time for himself and get some homework in.
Loading in and oh hey! It’s New Years.
Seasons expansion, which is pretty much a requirement for many, including myself, introduces holidays to the Sims. With it, you have a bunch of traditions to pick from to celebrate. I’ve also personally adjusted the holiday to fit within the middle of winter rather than right at the end because while it’s not quite accurate to reality, it is more accurate to Sims compressed time week. And Saturday just feels right for New Years to be on.
Belle doesn’t have any traditions she particularly wants to do but Rua wants to make those resolutions! I’d say academic success but that’s not quite within the frame work. Let’s go with something easy and pick up Level a Skill, since in the course of studying, you do want to level those skills.
Anyway, let’s get started on that homework! I use the calender system to determine which ones I want to do first, with first classes getting dibs and such.
Oh sweet! Afternoon classes! Just like in reality, afternoon classes are much more fun, as you don’t need to be as stringent on when you want to go to bed. Just like in reality…
Anyway, homework time! And as soon as Rua actually sat on a chair instead of in the ground, he raised his Charisma skill up to 2, fulfilling that resolution! HUZZAH! Huzzah for easy resolutions!
So Rua went to the restroom and...had a toilet explode on him. Yeesh. He was feeling happy for the resolution but the whole toilet explosion and the puddles afterwards bumped him back down into being grumpy. No time to worry about that though! Back to homework!
It is here that I point out that when you drop in on a Sim household randomly, their needs are likely way out of balance with each other. Especially the food and sleep one. Though considering Rua is a college student, it’s a little less of a concern...until classes start that is so to speak. And also, it’s New Years! We gotta stay up for New Years celebration!
Anyway, I glance at twitter for a few moments as homework continues completion and Rua’s getting accosted by a child. Heh. Children do hang around library lots a lot, when not at school. Them and parks. You know, as a child does. If a child is allowed to roam free where one wants to roam.
I also get a good look at the sim next to Rua and -low whistle- what an outfit. I know the devs at some point adjusted clothing settings so that for those of certain neighborhoods, they’ll wear certain outfits to fit the vibe of the area. This lady is just wearing a big shabby coat which...I guess that’s fitting!
Anyway with Rua’s needs extremely low, I set him to home and set him up to eat a PB&J and take a short nap. I also get control of Belle again and also set her resolution to Raise a Skill. I want the variety in case I either work on her acting aspiration or skill her up for her job.
Anyway, the big way I play this game is to play through the whims and wants of what a Sim wishes to do. Which is a bit of a drawback when I also tend to play the aspirations out but eh. Anyway, Belle’s wish is to share her insecurities with someone and...well her husband is feeling awful so let’s talk to someone else.
I picked Arun Bheeda, her co-worker in engineering, to chat with. Mostly because she doesn’t know him completely yet and so, why not? Thanks to their passively gained relationship when I wasn’t looking, they quickly became great friends! Hooray! And so she toasted and made merry and had a good time with Aurun enough to mark of the Party Time holiday tradition. Fairly easy one to do. Just find the socials that have the holiday mark on them.
And Rua woke up in the time inbetween, again, very angry at Belle for the cheating AND because he was still grumpy thanks to the bad social, plus he was still sleepy. I had Belle’s music playing in the background and he even got the wish to dislike it, and so I did. Just everything about his wife’s preferences annoys him.
...and if I was very mean, I could stir up some drama…
But mostly, I just wanted Rua to try to have some fun, which the auto-solver decided would be smashing a bunch of clay we had nearby. Fine by me! I also set Belle up to gain her acting skill, for a little bit, since her acting aspiration wanted her to get up to level 3 in acting. And she swiftly did! Now she’s in rank 2, which includes joining the acting career. Hmmmmmmmmm…
Another nap for Rua since his fun need was fulfilling at all thanks to music he hated blaring. And we get a visitor to this household. Mario Caliente, husband of Katrina Caliente and vampire! Not the one who rushed in and made the relationship between Belle and Rua tense though. Belle chatted him up a little, finding out he’s also an alumi from Britechester. But enough chatting it’s time for the countdown!
When it gets near midnight on New Years, all Sims on lot will head towards a tv and watch the countdown. And say “shi-shoobe!” as the time draws near. It’s cute and adorable!
And when the New Year rolls around, everyone cheers and the tv gives a little burst of explosion of confetti. Again, very cute! And fulfills the Countdown to Midnight tradition!
Anyway, I decided to have Belle take a day off for New Year’s Day, which isn’t a holiday but hey, I figured why not? She has a job as a hardware constructor that would hopefully give those vacation days. Hopefully.
Now I’m stuck on what to do with Belle. Her whim is to be in a well-decorated area which, thanks to a mod I have, Meaningful Stories, that doesn’t really affect much on gameplay and the other one is going on a date. Her date is alseep. Her date is also going to be knee-deep in homework when he wakes up. I could translate that whim into being in a classy enviroment though. The local museum is the classiest place around but I think it would be “closed” at this time. So we have bars, lounges and nightclubs and definitely the local bar doesn’t count for that. But then I look at my list of places and I get an idea…
Cabash Gallery my beloved. San Myshuno is just great in general, probably the best world in terms of how much playtime I put into all the residents there and all the activities to do. So to sort of fulfill the whim, I had her browse the artworks on the first floor for a bit.
And thus did New Years end, earning both Rua and Belle an excellent 12 hour happy moodlet! Just had a fun holiday in general.
I then realized I could easily do one of the next steps in Belle’s acting aspiration. Doing a street performance! I introduced her to a random joe off the streets and had her perform and impromptu romance scene! I’d say “good thing her husband doesn’t know about this” but uh, judging by the stilted lines they give, it probably isn’t very good. She only gets 10 simmolians so...yeah.
And just as soon as I’m about to declare this a day, bills drop in! Fun tip! If bills drop when you’re off-lot, you’re only going to pay for the lot taxes! And so, 1,200 poorer, we end this post for now.
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eggnemies to lovers
nami/vivi, zoro/sanji | 7k words
(best viewed on: ao3)
My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.
submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel
(Or, the one where Sanji is a diner cook, Vivi is their waitress, and Zoro and Nami accidentally became each other’s wingman.)
Zoro glares at his plate as if his omelette has just challenged him to a duel. Nami tries her best to focus on the map she’s working on—this one’s a particularly difficult homework from her Intro to Coastal Navigation class—and pointedly does not look up.
“Holy shit,” Zoro mutters under his breath, poking at the offending egg, “Nami, I swear—”
“We are not having this conversation again—”
“I told you,” Zoro plows on, “that fucking cook is doing this on purpose.”
Nami takes a deep breath. Cartography is a delicate art, and Nami aims to be a professional. She takes her favorite pencil and elegantly traces over the coastline of Cocoyashi Village, poised and collected and calm. She’s not going to take the bait and ruin her map, no matter how much Zoro is sulking over an egg—
She sighs. “Zoro, I’m pretty sure there’s just been some mix-up with the orders.”
Zoro huffs at that, clearly disbelieving. “For the third time this week?”
“This isn’t exactly a five-star establishment,” she points out, and adds, reasonably, calmly, in an attempt to find some semblance of peace, “I doubt the cook of some no-name diner even knows your name.”
The words seem to have brought about the opposite effect, because now there’s a dangerous glint in Zoro’s eyes as he mutters, “well, he’s about to find out,” before standing up and shamelessly yelling, “ OI! COOK! ”
Nami drives the pencil through her map.
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r/relationship_advice
My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.
submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel
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My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.
submitted 6 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel
I know this sounds really weird, but here it is:
This guy and I have been on a couple of dates. We’d been friends long before we started trying this going out thing, so he isn’t a total stranger to me, and I’ve long known him as a pretty calm guy. Chimes in once a week in the group chat, grunts a lot during conversations, you know — one of those quiet, meditating types. He’s only competitive when it comes to his favorite sport (he’s a professional kendo athlete), but other than that he tends not to care about what other people think about him. I’ve never seen him respond to anyone’s taunts or getting worked up by a stranger’s words.
Except at Baratie.
Any time we’re out he wants to go to this diner called Baratie down in Grand Line. I don’t really care about the food, but the tables there are big enough for me to do work (Maritime Science major here—lots of stationeries and large maps to work with). But that became impossible once he and this one cook started chirping at each other every time we went there. Date complained about his eggs one time, because he likes them a little runny and they were served hard. The cook responded by giving him scrambled eggs. When he brought it up again, the cook served him two hardboiled eggs. It was kind of funny to be honest, but my date wasn’t able to laugh it off. When we left, he was in a bad mood.
This is the crazy part: he keeps going back.
In fact, he keeps going back and ordering eggs and getting into fistfights with the same cook. It’s almost a ritual at this point. He orders runny eggs, the cook serves him some other version of eggs, and then they beat the shit out of each other. We never eat out at any other places now; it’s just Baratie every fucking week. Sometimes he even goes there without me.
I’ve tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he keeps saying it’s a matter of principle. I’ve told him to just talk to the manager, but he just waved me off. Apparently that cook hasn’t yet made him the correct runny eggs, but it’s like he spends the week learning new ways of preparing eggs to piss my date off.
My question is — this is weird, right? Like, I’m not really concerned about the fighting part — he’s never been physical with me and I never once felt threatened by him — but what’s with the obsession ? They’re just eggs, aren’t they?
Is this indicative of something deeper? Should I reconsider going exclusive with this guy?
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When Nami looks up from her map this time, Zoro has already stalked off to the kitchen. This isn’t new or remarkable in any way, except the fact that he almost ran into one of the waitresses, who immediately clutched her tray against her chest and watched his retreating back warily.
Zoro didn’t even spare her a glance. What a brute. Nami’s going to add to his debt later for that.
“Hey,” Nami calls out towards the waitress, waving at her to come by her table, “I’m sorry, uh…”
“Vivi,” the waitress fills in with a polite smile.
“Right, Vivi—I’m Nami,” Nami replies, finding herself nervous all of a sudden, because up close like this, holy fuck is the waitress so pretty, with long blue hair and silver-sharp eyes. Nami clears her throat. “Uh, I just want to say sorry about his—his whole deal with your Cook. Zoro—that’s his name—he’s usually really chill, so I don’t know what’s happening here.”
Vivi thankfully chuckles at that, seemingly finding the situation more hilarious than threatening. Good. There’s also something about that laughter that makes Nami feel like she’s fourteen again, full of butterflies and all too small for everything, but she tries not to think too hard about that yet.
“In your friend’s defense,” Vivi says, “Sanji is usually really good with memorizing orders, so he’s totally messing with your friend on purpose.”
As if on cue, the cook’s voice—Sanji’s—rings out from the kitchen. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, MOSSHEAD, I TOLD YOU THE KITCHEN’S OFF LIMITS FOR CUSTOMERS —”
Nami finds herself laughing with Vivi. “You know, it’s actually impressive that Zoro doesn’t get lost on his way to the kitchen anymore.”
Vivi raises her eyebrow. “Nami, the kitchen door is right there.”
“It’s Zoro,” Nami presses, because it’s always fun to see strangers learn about Zoro’s disastrous relationship with directions and maps for the first time. “One time, during our junior high sports festival, he got lost on the running track. For a hundred-meter race .”
That earns her another laugh from Vivi as she takes a seat beside Nami, body leaning forward in curiosity, “really? Is he short-sighted or something? Can’t he just—I don’t know, literally see the finish line?”
“Here’s the thing you need to know about Zoro,” Nami begins, and watching the way Vivi’s soft hair falls over the slope of her shoulder, bright blue and blinding despite the dim lighting of the diner, Nami somehow can’t find it in herself to be mad at Zoro anymore.
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u/salveshine • 492 points 6 months ago
This seems like an obvious question, but I have to ask: have you considered going somewhere else for your dates? Most people don’t go to a diner for dates in the first place.
/u/throwawaypinwheel • 23 points 6 months ago
Well, as I said on the original post, it’s downright an obsession at this point. Asking him to go somewhere else doesn’t solve the problem since he’d just go there on his own on a different day.
Also, the waitress there is nice. She’s been keeping me company throughout this whole thing. She’s a godsend.
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Vivi appears by her table as soon as Zoro disappears into the kitchen.
“Again?” Vivi asks by way of greeting.
“Again,” Nami agrees, scooting to the side of her bench to give Vivi space to sit. “It’s eggs benedict this time. Perfectly poached. I went to this fancy restaurant a few weeks ago, and they didn’t even make it this good.”
Somewhere from what presumably is the kitchen, Zoro’s frustrated voice echoes throughout the whole diner. “Now you’re not even serving me eggs anymore!”
“What are you—“ there is a moment of stunned silence before Sanji‘s reply comes, equally loud, dripped with utter disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? You thought this wasn’t made of—you’ve never seen scotch eggs before?”
“SHUT UP,” Zoro yells back.
Nami cranes her neck out of instinct, wishing to catch a glimpse of the scene from the window behind the counter—she’s never heard Zoro sounding so flustered before—but Vivi’s voice, small and low and far from the confident tone Nami has started to get used to, pulls her attention back.
“I’m sorry.”
It takes another moment before the words fully register in her brain. “Wh—for what?”
“I mean,” Vivi says, twiddling with her fingers as she mumbles, “this is supposed to be your date.”
“My date?” The question already falls out of her mouth before she realizes, oh. Oh. This is supposed to be a date, because her and Zoro are…well. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember that part—they’re certainly not acting the part, considering they’re hanging out with other people during these ‘dates’. Nami understands, rationally, that she should be mad about this; and yet— “It’s fine. I’m not that bothered.”
Vivi blinks. “You’re not?”
“Nah,” Nami says, waving her hand dismissively, feeling as surprised as Vivi looks. “Well, when it comes down to it, it’s still free food, you know? Could’ve been better—no offense, but a family diner isn’t exactly date material—but considering the menu and ingredients you guys have to work with? Sanji’s practically been making feasts fit for royalty here.”
“Well, I still think you deserve to be treated better during a date,” Vivi crosses her arms and—is that a pout on her face? “Don’t you feel a bit lonely?”
“No?” Nami replies, taken aback. That’s literally the furthest thing on her mind, because— “I have you, don’t I?”
Nami feels her face heat up as soon as the words left her mouth, because that sounded way more presumptuous than she intended. She meant to say, I have you to keep me company , like a friend , in a totally friend platonic way. Except they were talking about dates in a decidedly very romantic way and she should totally take it back—
Vivi beams at that, the kind that makes her look like she’s glowing inside her skin, and never mind, Nami’s not taking it back. Nope. She’s never taking it back even if someone’s paying her a million berries to take it back.
Vivi takes Nami’s hand from the table and holds it in both of her own, and Nami’s heart trips in her chest.
“Yeah,” Vivi says, the words sending a low hum under Nami’s ribcage. “Yeah, you have me.”
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/u/mettlemental • 301 points 5 months ago
This is their ritual. Do not interfere.
/u/throwawaypinwheel • 279 points 5 months ago
You know what, I think you have a point. This thing between me and the waitress is also a ritual now, so we’re even.
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“Shishishi!” Luffy laughs, eyes practically sparkling. “Sanji is so cool!”
“No he’s not!” Zoro pinches Luffy by the cheek to try to drag him away from Sanji. “I brought you here to defend me!”
“But Sanji’s the one making me delicious meat right now,” Luffy pouts, seemingly unperturbed by the potential disfigurement of his own face, gaze still rooted on Sanji—or, more specifically, the food Sanji is carrying on a tray. “What can you make, Zoro?”
Sanji lights up his cigarette, expression hidden behind his hands, but his whole body visibly puffs up like a peacock. Nami notices how the tips of his ears have turned red. “Finally, someone with taste.”
Zoro tries to grab the tray away from Sanji’s hand, and Nami watches Vivi masterfully maneuver between the messy cacophony of the trio, placing a tall stack of waffles in front of Chopper.
“This doesn’t make me happy at all!” Chopper says, his words nowhere near convincing, considering he’s saying it with the largest grin Nami has ever seen on a fourteen-year-old. “Did Sanji make this one, too?”
“He did,” Vivi says as she takes a seat beside Nami, as she always does. The table settles into a comfortable silence as Chopper digs into his waffles and Vivi absentmindedly plays with the salt shaker, observing the idiot trio from a distance.
“They sure get along fast,” Nami says as she takes out her cartography tools, and Vivi’s gaze sweeps between Luffy, Chopper, and the maps on the table.
“You’re not even trying to have a date anymore, aren’t you,” she points out.
“Nope,” Nami agrees, gesturing to Chopper with her pencil. “Chopper here wanted to try the waffle for a long time ever since I told him all about Sanji.”
“Please tell Sanji I love it!” Chopper adds around a mouthful of sugar.
“And Luffy’s been really curious about you two anyways.”
One table away, Luffy took the last bite of whatever meal Sanji just served, and dramatically announces, “this one’s better than the last one!”
“You always say that after every plate,” Sanji mumbles, but shoves another plate towards the kid anyways, clearly preening from the praises.
“It wasn’t even that good,” Zoro adds desperately, and scowls when Sanji chooses to watch Luffy eat another serving with the same gusto like he did the first one. “Oi—don’t ignore me, Shit Cook!”
It’s...fascinating. Nami never had a habit of watching Zoro—those activities are reserved for those fangirls in their university who barely know him—but she finds herself unable to look away whenever they’re at the Baratie. Whenever he’s with Sanji, to be precise. The chef seems to have brought out so many different sides of Zoro she’s never seen before in all the years she’s known him, and that’s saying a lot, considering she’s known Zoro for a decade.
Zoro has always been a steady presence in her and Luffy’s life ever since he moved into their neighborhood when she was shy of turning ten; he is strong-willed and loyal and eternally dependable, like a safe place they can always come back to. He can be a little hard to read, quiet and reserved as he is, but these days Nami knows where to look, the telltales hidden in the way he straightens his back and carries himself.
But with Sanji, Zoro is—he’s all those things still, sure. But he’s also— so much more. There’s suddenly this— kid, lively and boyish and so, so easy to read. Open book, heart on his sleeve. He grins and yells and throws his punches, and Sanji would take them in stride and return them as easily. This Zoro pouts when Sanji doesn’t pay him attention, and scowls when he does; and when Sanji makes him laugh, it’s a loud, open thing.
Sometimes it feels as if the Zoro she knew was an impostor all along. As if there was a pale imitation of Roronoa Zoro with a ghost of a smile, and he’d only come alive in the middle of a fucking diner.
And the worst part of it all is—
“You two?” Vivi suddenly mumbles, seemingly to herself.
Nami tilts her head. “Yeah?”
“You were saying something about Luffy being curious about… us two ,” Vivi says. There’s an odd, pensive look on her face. “Are you talking about Sanji and…”
“You, of course!” Nami cuts in, perplexed.
“You told your friends about me?” Vivi wonders, and it’s baffling. Of course Nami told her friends about Vivi. Sometimes Nami thinks Vivi is all she could talk about. She’s hilarious and smart and a thousand times more interesting to talk about than Sanji and Zoro combined.
That’s a really weird thing to suddenly spring on someone though, so Nami instead says, “Vivi, you’re the best thing about these weekly visits, because that sure as hell isn’t.”
She’s pointing at the dumbass trio; somewhere along the way, Luffy has seemed to fall asleep, and Sanji is smiling at the boy’s sleeping form, looking very pleased with himself. Zoro is fuming behind him, arms crossed and chest puffed, like a child being forced to share his favorite toy.
Vivi laughs at the sight, shaking her head. “Well, boys will be boys.”
The words bury itself uncomfortably in the pit of Nami’s stomach.
Boys will be boys—which is why sometimes (oftentimes, many times, always) Nami thinks she’s much more easily enamored with girls. Nami supposes there is a certain charm in Zoro’s brutish ways, but she’s beginning to learn that it may not be for her—Nami appreciates people who can hold their own in a fistfight, but there is also strength in reigning yourself in despite the circumstances, the way she’s seen Vivi handle difficult customers with a firm tone, graceful and dangerous at the same time.
(What could this mean, then? For her, for them—)
Zoro and Sanji have started fighting animatedly again. Roronoa Zoro, his heart on his sleeve.
And the worst part is that Nami doesn’t even care.
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/u/sorcatarius • 334 points 4 months ago
I usually appreciate it when OP updates their posts with recent developments because I’m one of those people who get easily invested in a stranger’s life story, but is it just me or do all of these updates seem irrelevant? Most of them are about the waitress. I feel like I’m learning nothing about the actual date here. Who’s dating who again?
/u/NeonRain15• 137 points 4 months ago
OP is clearly a troll lol.
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They are sitting at a corner table in front of the door to the kitchen, because Franky and Robin aren’t even pretending they’re here for the food instead of a show. Usopp told them he would rather ‘see where the danger is coming from ’, but Nami suspects the real reason is something closer to morbid curiosity.
Nami doesn’t fault them. It certainly is hard to look away from what those two clowns are currently doing: Zoro is waving a spatula and a frying pan like he would his kendo swords, clearly breaking several kitchen-related OSHA rules in the process; Sanji puts out his cigarette against the counter—seriously, has nobody here heard of proper kitchen etiquette—and swings his leg in a drop kick.
There’s a loud CLANK as his shoe comes into contact with the pan.
Franky whistles. “That’s super awesome, bro!” He cheers, before turning back to the table with a lower voice, “Seriously, how have they not fired Sanji-bro already?”
“Other than the fact that he’s overqualified as hell?” Usopp asks in between spoonfuls of Sanji’s fried rice.
“Well, they do provide a wonderful source of entertainment for us customers,” Robin observes.
“Sure thing,” Franky replies, “but they’re totally destroying kitchen appliances right now, I mean, look at that roller. There’s no way any normal wood could withstand that —there it goes.”
“Let them be—what’s the worst that could happen?” Robin muses. “Other than a kitchen accident that leads to a gas explosion and the restaurant burning down to the ground, obliterating all of us in the process, of course.”
“Robin,” Usopp squeaks.
Inside the kitchen, the tables have turned—Sanji has somehow regained possession of his kitchen appliances, and he’s now teaching Zoro how to cook. They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent over the stove, and Sanji would occasionally wrap his hand around Zoro’s wrist to instruct him.
Zoro looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust. His eyes are darting between Sanji’s hands (still lightly gripping Zoro’s wrist), Sanji’s face (dangerously close to Zoro’s own), and Sanji’s lips (there’s something there, something he wants to do and Nami knows if she thinks hard enough she can put a name on it) —anywhere but the food they’re actually cooking. Zoro’s own face is now redder than the tomatoes lining up the kitchen counter.
Heart on his sleeve, Nami thinks. Open book, open book.
“I’m going to get some refills,” she announces, suddenly feeling like she’s intruding on something private and practically leaps towards the soda station. She could feel a pair of curious eyes on her back—Robin’s, no doubt—but she’s more distracted by another presence currently standing beside her.
“Hey,” Vivi says, voice light, teasing. She’s carrying a lot of cups on her, presumably the others’, and she bumps her shoulder against Nami’s playfully. Nami could feel the touch fizzle against her skin.
“Hey,” Nami replies, trying to pretend that the close proximity doesn’t bother her at all. “‘Sup?”
Vivi wordlessly helps her with the drinks, and they easily fall into comfortable silence, filling cups after cups, until Vivi nudges her again. “You know, Usopp was right about Sanji being overqualified.”
Nami fills Franky’s cup slower, wondering where the conversation is going. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You know, I have a secret,” Vivi says, tone playful, but when Nami looks up there’s something in her eyes. “Actually, I own this place.”
Nami stops filling the cup. “What?”
“I mean, it’s mostly on loan, and I’m not halfway done with the payments, but technically, yeah,” Vivi says, tucking her hair to the back of her ear in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t really want to tell anyone because it’s not like I wanted a special treatment from the patrons. And I am effectively a waitress here.”
Nami is suddenly reminded of all the instances when she called Baratie a no-name diner right to Vivi’s face, and feels her stomach sink. Holy shit, she called it a dumpster fire just last week.
Vivi must have noticed Nami’s mental breakdown, because she quickly waves her hand and laughs. “No, no, don’t worry about it—I know we’re still a work in progress. Especially ever since—”
Vivi trails off at that, suddenly looking unsure. She starts collecting all the cups, like she’s giving Nami a reason to back out of the conversation. “It’s kind of a boring life story, actually, I’m sorry for dumping that all to you out of the blue—”
“Vivi,” Nami says, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t usually do this; she knows, better than most, how heavy one’s past could be, and she hates it when people try to pry into hers. But Vivi is looking at her with sad eyes and unsteady hands, and suddenly Nami wants nothing other than to tell her, “I’ll drop this if you don’t want to talk about it, but remember this: I will always want to know more about you.”
She places her hand on Vivi's arm, for emphasis. “I will always want to support you.”
It takes a moment before her words sink in, and Nami could see the moment it does, Vivi’s eyes widening in surprise as her face breaks into a slow-starting smile. “Thank you, Nami,” she whispers, and it’s almost reverent.
Nami’s gaze falls onto Vivi’s lips, and suddenly it’s become very difficult to maintain a conversation.
She wonders how she’d look now, to an outsider. Flushed face and a stupid smile on her face, hands fidgeting with her own hair. Open book, open book . Could they hear, she wonders, the way her heart is hammering against her ribcage—would they find out—
Robin claps her hands together, snapping Nami out of her reverie. The whole group is already standing by the door, waiting for her, and god, how long have they been talking by the soda station again?
“Perhaps we can take the drinks another day. Time to go home, don’t you think?” Robin suggests. Her tone is light, but her gaze is heavy, and Nami has to resist the urge to curl into herself.
Zoro still stares at the kitchen, oblivious to the tension. “Yeah,” he says, almost in a daze. “ Shit — yeah.”
Shit, indeed.
+
/u/Lanzifer• 975 points 5 months ago
This is a love story.
/u/nashdezus • 307 points 3 months ago
I hate to break it to you but I think your boyfriend is in love with the cook. If this is fake you have written one of the greatest gay romances of this generation, if this isn’t fake I dunno what.
/u/ParkNight • 399 points 3 months ago
Your BF needs to cut to the chase and invite the cook over to your place for some eggs and rough sex.
/u/Cod3Man • 760 points 4 months ago
He has a crush on the cook & vice versa but they’re both living a lie so they fight because it’s the only way to release the sexual tension. Every different way of cooking an egg represents a different sex act.
/u/jakubada • 523 points 3 months ago
Girl, not to wish ill will on your relationship, but you should bang that waitress instead.
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“Have you ever heard of Baroque Works?”
Nami pauses. She places her pencil away, knowing that Vivi deserves nothing less than her full attention.
It’s only been a couple of days since the conversation she had with Vivi, but Nami can’t get her mind off of it. She’s been coming to Baratie every single day now after college, and it’s just so convenient that Zoro suddenly refuses to go. It’s simply harder to have Vivi open up when someone else is around, and not because there are other reasons. Like wanting Vivi all to herself. No sire.
She shakes herself out of the dangerous train of thoughts. “Baroque Works? Isn’t that the new restaurant chain down the block? It’s the one that’s taken over that other chain, right? Uh, what was it called—”
“Alabasta,” Vivi supplies, before sighing. “That’s the chain my family used to own.”
Nami blinks. “Wait, you used to own Alabasta?”
Running a diner on her own at her age is already an impressive feat in and of itself, but Alabasta is a whole different beast. It’s a nation-wide chain with dozens of restaurants, and owning the chain is probably equivalent to owning a small empire.
“Oh, no, I mean, my family did,” Vivi quickly adds, ever humble. “It’s not exactly anything impressive. My grandfather ran the business before my father did, and his father was the one who started it—it was passed down the generations, and I was simply born into it.
“As you said, Alabasta went down a few years ago because my father struck a bad deal with a ruthless businessman. It is clear now, in hindsight, that Crocodile was tricking us, but we were naive and perhaps a little too eager to expand. Baroque Works took over, and we were left with the only branch they deemed the least profitable—here.”
“And you renamed it to Baratie?”
“That was Sanji’s idea,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips; it is clearly a much fonder memory than what that businessman—Crocodile—did to her and her family. “At the time, Sanji just moved to Grand Line. His father had a restaurant back in East Blue with the same name, and he told me he would help me build everything back from the ground up. We would borrow the name, acting like we’re a branch of Baratie, and I can rename it back to Alabasta once I can settle all the legalities with Baroque Works.”
Everything slowly falls into place now—the way Sanji is clearly trained to cook dishes much more sophisticated than waffles and scrambled eggs, the freedom he gets to be able to mess around with Zoro, and his close camaraderie with Vivi.
Nami feels a pang of—god, jealousy, if she dares to put a name on it—towards Sanji; for being able to stand by Vivi’s side when she needed it the most. It’s silly, because Sanji has always been kind to her, and it’s not like it was Sanji’s fault that Nami didn’t know Vivi until recently, but the feeling gripped her like a vice anyway, heavy and suffocating.
Vivi seems to have taken her silence wrongly, though, because she looks away, almost shamefully. “You must think this is all stupid.”
“Of course not,” Nami immediately retorts without missing a beat. She thinks of Bellemere, holding her head high despite the judgments from the neighbors. She was alone and penniless, countless doors slammed close in her face just because she was a single mother; but none of that stopped Bellemere from sending Nojiko and Nami to the best school in the neighborhood
So Nami tells Vivi what she has always wanted to tell Bellemere, and what she knows to be true of Vivi, of any women in her life who has never backed down from adversity— “You’re amazing.”
Vivi blinks, cheeks coloring at the words. It takes her a moment before she can reply with a shaky, “Yeah?”
“Yeah? Vivi, you’re—” Nami turns her body to face Vivi fully, grabbing her by the arms, “—you’re the strongest, most hard-working person I’ve ever known. Most people in your shes would’ve turned tails and run.”
Vivi flushes further. It’s the first time Nami has seen her flustered, really cute, actually. And the fact that Nami is the one who put that expression on her face —
“Are we intruding on something?”
Nami almost jumps from her seat, suddenly feeling like she’s five again, getting caught with her hand halfway into the cookie jar. Vivi is scrambling to her feet from her side, cleaning imaginary dust from her uniform as she stammers, “no, of course not! I’m sorry, sir—sirs , can I take your order?”
Nami looks up to see Jinbe laugh and wave at her, signaling her to calm down. Brook is standing right behind him, giving Nami a small wave. “What do you serve?”
Nami tries to return to her map as Vivi starts rattling off the menu, but Brook—wise, old Brook, with his soft voice and observing eyes, goes, “No Zoro this time around, hm?”
Her pen stills. There’s nothing accusatory in Brook’s voice—he would never, none of their friends would never. But she waits for Vivi to be off with their orders still before replying, arms crossed across her chest almost defensively. “What is it to you, old man?”
She realizes a little too late that it’s an awfully rude response, but Jinbe simply laughs. “Old men, aren’t we, Brook?”
“Certainly older than most,” Brook agrees, eyes shining in mirth, not offended the least. “Hopefully wiser, too.”
“Well, sometimes,” Jinbe says, turning to Nami, “old men like us have the fortune—or the misfortune, some may say—to have loved and lost.”
Nami isn’t quite sure where the conversation is going, but there’s grief carried by Jinbe’s voice, and what comes out is, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all long past, miss,” Jinbe dismisses, not unkindly. “More importantly, what I’m trying to ay is, you and Zoro might have been looking at the wrong places. Love, that is. But there is time to rectify this—isn’t that what you young people have? Time”
Nami sits still, stupefied.
She has the suspicion that Robin knows, but Robin has always had her ways. For Jinbe to notice? Jinbe, who would rather talk about his fishing trips than to gossip? How obvious has she been?
(Open book, the thought resurfaces, unbidden. Heart on her sleeve—)
“Though, Nami?” Brook suddenly says, snapping Nami out of her own reverie.
She suddenly realizes that it’s just the two of them on the table, Jinbe already wandering around after imparting her with some advices. She clears her throat, trying to get her bearings. “Yeah?”
“I have to disagree with our dear Jinbe, I must say. We have loved and lost, but,” he takes her hand and guides it to rest on her heart.
“To love,” Brook says, voice steady, sure as a day. “Is never a misfortune.”
+
r/AmITheAsshole
Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?
submitted 2 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel
257 comments share save give award report
Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?
submitted 2 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel
I’m a girl who has gone through a couple of dates with a dude, but I’m falling in love with another girl. Like, I’m having a gay crisis right now. I’m not actually cheating since we haven’t decided to be exclusive yet, but he’s also a childhood friend, so it makes me wonder if this is a dick move?
To make matters more complicated: my date? Friend? Sort of boyfriend? He seems to have fallen in love with someone else too, and it’s another guy, so he might be gay, too.
Yes, I know bisexuality exists. Can’t exactly speak about him but I think I’m not that, so it’s not like I can suck it up and date him instead. AITA?
[deleted] • 725 points 2 months ago
Aren’t you the OP of that one viral post from r/relationship_advice about the Baratie cook?
/u/throwawaypinwheel • 2324 points 2 months ago
Yes, and that’s relevant, how?
/u/alohci • -20 points 2 months ago
LOL you’re clearly a troll. This isn’t r/CreativeWriting, go write your romance novel somewhere else. I’m reporting you to the mods.
/u/cheesus32 • 1739 points 2 months ago
This is better than most shit on Netflix right now
/u/veloace • 1641 points 2 months ago
Communication is key, OP. Sexualities aside—which is a topic for another day—isn’t this essentially a case of the two of you wanting different things from the relationship?
+
Nami takes a deep breath and checks her phone for the time.
She sees the 1:00 displayed on the screen. Her appointment with Zoro is supposed to be on twelve thirty, which means she’ll have another 30 minutes as Zoro gets lost on the way to Baratie as usual. One hour was his record.
She takes another deep breath and sighs.
This is it. She’s going to tell Zoro the truth.
It’s rare for her, to be so nervous around Zoro, but in her defense, it’s not like there’s an easy way to say, “hey, sorry, this may come out of nowhere but I’m breaking things off between us. Apparently I’m a lesbian and I’m also in love with the waitress at the place where we’re supposed to be going on dates in. It’s not you, it’s me.”
...Nami really needs to work on her delivery.
Her heart stutters in her chest as the automatic door slides open and Zoro walks in with the grim determination of a soldier going into battle. Perhaps Zoro is more perceptive than she’s giving him credit for. She hopes so—it surely will make this whole sort of-break up easier for the both of them.
She has run her line over and over again in her head, but nothing has prepared her to see Zoro sit down across the table, bow down, and says, “I’m sory, but I don’t think this is working out for us.”
She blinks. Wait. Wait—“ You're breaking up with me?”
“Luffy thinks we’re having a fight because we’ve been acting weird around each other ever since we tried out this whole dating thing, and hell, Nami, he’s right—I’ve seen you less now,” Zoro plows on, oblivious to her shock. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re my best friend, and you’re still my best friend, and I want us back. The us that’s, you know, normal. Alsoimightbeinlovewiththecook .”
Oh.
That’s—oh.
Nami is pretty sure her mouth is hanging open stupidly now, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Holy shit,” she breathes, perplexed. “Reddit was right.”
Zoro finally looks up at that. “What’s red—” he seems to take in her expression for the first time since the conversation started, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Wait. You’re not mad?”
“Mad? No, Zoro, god—how could I be when you’re right?” She feels her body slumping into the chair, the weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying has suddenly been lifted. “We are terrible for each other. I have no idea what got us to agree to this.”
Zoro visibly relaxes. There’s amusement in his tone as he suggests, “the copious amount of alcohol?”
Right. They were in the middle of a drinking competition when the idea of a date came up. “You know what, in hindsight, it’s kind of crazy that we got this far with such a stupid idea.”
“I think I was running away,” Zoro admits, eyes unwittingly darting towards the kitchen. “I couldn’t—I had this thing, for the Cook, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. So I tried to make you an excuse for my cowardice.” He bows again. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no, dummy, don’t—” she kicks him on the shin, forcing him to stop bowing. “Stop being all bushido on me. I wasn’t any better. I’m—in love with Vivi.”
It’s Zoro’s turn to look at her in surprise. “What, really?”
It’s comforting, in a way, that at least she isn’t so obvious that Zoro would notice. “Yeah. You’re probably too preoccupied with your pretty blond to notice, but I’ve been pretty smitten myself. And I guess I have you and your little crush to thank for dragging me here in the first place.”
Zoro blushes at that, and it’s cute—not in a way that makes her want to kiss him, but definitely in a way that makes her want to tease him until the end days. God, how did it take her so long to realize she never loved him that way?
“‘Dragging” you, huh?” Zoro seems to decide to hone in on that, probably because he could burn himself alive from embarrassment if he keeps talking about Sanji. “This place is that bad for a date?”
Nami throws her head back and laughs. “You’re the worst date ever, Zoro,” she says, in between peals of laughter. “But you’re the best wingman I’ve ever had.”
+
“Going on a date again this time?” Vivi asks.
Nami looks at her—really takes her in, her smooth long hair and bright smile and long eyelashes. Holy shit, she’s staring at her eyelashes. She is so fucking gay.
She clears her throat. Focus, Nami. “No, actually, uh, can we talk? Like, super serious.”
Vivi immediately straightens up at that. “Of course. Give me a moment."
She rushes towards the kitchen, probably to tell Sanji that she’ll be occupied for a moment; something pulls inside Nami’s chest at the sight, knowing that Vivi would drop everything to be by Nami’s side.
When Vivi reemerges from the kitchen, she’s no longer carrying the tray and the menu. She takes a seat beside Nami and takes her hand. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, kind of, uh,” here goes nothing. “Zoro and I broke up.”
Vivi’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, Nami, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be,” she rushes to clarify, before Vivi gets the wrong idea, “I did say we broke up, but that isn’t exactly right—I mean, we were never exclusive, Vivi. And I don’t think we were ever dating for real. Like, we’re gay.”
There’s a beat. “What?”
Okay, so Nami could have broken the news much more smoothly than that.
“Zoro and I, uh—I’m gay. And Zoro never exactly put a label, but I’m pretty sure he never even dreamed of banging a chick, and—” she squeezes Vivi’s hand. She isn’t sure she’s doing it for Vivi or herself. “I know this is a lot, but I just—I think we were just very comfortable with each other, and since we are man and woman, we somehow thought we should date. Which is dumb, looking back at it, but we’d never fallen in love before.”
She thinks of Vivi—beautiful, fierce, kind Vivi, who carries the world on her shoulders. Vivi, whose smile lights up the whole room. “We didn’t know how different it was going to be, when it’s the real thing.”
Somewhere behind them, she can hear something heavy hit the floor in the kitchen, which means Zoro must have confessed right about now and Sanji must have dropped something from the shock.
Well, at least Vivi hasn’t dropped anything yet.
“What I’m trying to say is,” she continues, finding newfound courage from the way Vivi looks at her—is that hope in her eyes? “Vivi, you’re the most wonderful, amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and pretty but I like you more than just that.” She takes Vivi’s hand in both of hers now. “Would you go out with me?”
There’s a moment as her words seem to sink in, and Nami feels her blood run cold—what if she read this whole thing wrongly? What if Vivi was straight? What if she was just trying to help out a friend, being the nice person she is?
But then Vivi’s face splits into a smile, soft and golden-warm, the white light of the overhead fluorescence illuminating her almost ethereal-like. “Yes, Nami,” she says, lacing their fingers together, “I would love to go out with you. But only on one condition.”
“Anything,” Nami says without thinking, because it’s true.
Vivi grins, and there’s a teasing edge on her voice as she says, “If you’re asking me on a date in a diner, count me out.”
“Oh my god,” Nami says, finally, finally pulling Vivi in for a kiss, “never again.”
+
UPDATE: My (20F) Date (21M) has left me for a Baratie cook (21M)
submitted 3 days ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel
It’s fine though, I have a girlfriend (18F, beautiful, amazing, doesn’t get into fights with random cooks) now. Yes, it’s the waitress. Yes, you guys have told me so. I’d love to take the L, but I’m the one with a hot girlfriend here, so am I really losing in this scenario?
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Text
The Rise & Fall of Joss Whedon; the Myth of the Hollywood Feminist Hero
By Kelly Faircloth
“I hate ‘feminist.’ Is this a good time to bring that up?” Joss Whedon asked. He paused knowingly, waiting for the laughs he knew would come at the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer making such a statement.
It was 2013, and Whedon was onstage at a fundraiser for Equality Now, a human rights organization dedicated to legal equality for women. Though Buffy had been off the air for more than a decade, its legacy still loomed large; Whedon was widely respected as a man with a predilection for making science fiction with strong women for protagonists. Whedon went on to outline why, precisely, he hated the term: “You can’t be born an ‘ist,’” he argued, therefore, “‘feminist’ includes the idea that believing men and women to be equal, believing all people to be people, is not a natural state, that we don’t emerge assuming that everybody in the human race is a human, that the idea of equality is just an idea that’s imposed on us.”
The speech was widely praised and helped cement his pop-cultural reputation as a feminist, in an era that was very keen on celebrity feminists. But it was also, in retrospect, perhaps the high water mark for Whedon’s ability to claim the title, and now, almost a decade later, that reputation is finally in tatters, prompting a reevaluation of not just Whedon’s work, but the narrative he sold about himself.
In July 2020, actor Ray Fisher accused Whedon of being “gross, abusive, unprofessional, and completely unacceptable” on the Justice League set when Whedon took over for Zach Synder as director to finish the project. Charisma Carpenter then described her own experiences with Whedon in a long post to Twitter, hashtagged #IStandWithRayFisher.
On Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, Carpenter played Cordelia, a popular character who morphed from snob to hero—one of those strong female characters that made Whedon’s feminist reputation—before being unceremoniously written off the show in a plot that saw her thrust into a coma after getting pregnant with a demon. For years, fans have suspected that her disappearance was related to her real-life pregnancy. In her statement, Carpenter appeared to confirm the rumors. “Joss Whedon abused his power on numerous occasions while working on the sets of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ and ‘Angel,’” she wrote, describing Fisher’s firing as the last straw that inspired her to go public.
Buffy was a landmark of late 1990s popular culture, beloved by many a burgeoning feminist, grad student, gender studies professor, and television critic for the heroine at the heart of the show, the beautiful blonde girl who balanced monster-killing with high school homework alongside ancillary characters like the shy, geeky Willow. Buffy was very nearly one of a kind, an icon of her era who spawned a generation of leather-pants-wearing urban fantasy badasses and women action heroes.
Buffy was so beloved, in fact, that she earned Whedon a similarly privileged place in fans’ hearts and a broader reputation as a man who championed empowered women characters. In the desert of late ’90s and early 2000s popular culture, Whedon was heralded as that rarest of birds—the feminist Hollywood man. For many, he was an example of what more equitable storytelling might look like, a model for how to create compelling women protagonists who were also very, very fun to watch. But Carpenter’s accusations appear to have finally imploded that particular bit of branding, revealing a different reality behind the scenes and prompting a reevaluation of the entire arc of Whedon’s career: who he was and what he was selling all along.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer premiered March 1997, midseason, on The WB, a two-year-old network targeting teens with shows like 7th Heaven. Its beginnings were not necessarily auspicious; it was a reboot of a not-particularly-blockbuster 1992 movie written by third-generation screenwriter Joss Whedon. (His grandfather wrote for The Donna Reed Show; his father wrote for Golden Girls.) The show followed the trials of a stereotypical teenage California girl who moved to a new town and a new school after her parents’ divorce—only, in a deliberate inversion of horror tropes, the entire town sat on top of the entrance to Hell and hence was overrun with demons. Buffy was a slayer, a young woman with the power and immense responsibility to fight them. After the movie turned out very differently than Whedon had originally envisioned, the show was a chance for a do-over, more of a Valley girl comedy than serious horror.
It was layered, it was campy, it was ironic and self-aware. It looked like it belonged on the WB rather than one of the bigger broadcast networks, unlike the slickly produced prestige TV that would follow a few years later. Buffy didn’t fixate on the gory glory of killing vampires—really, the monsters were metaphors for the entire experience of adolescence, in all its complicated misery. Almost immediately, a broad cross-section of viewers responded enthusiastically. Critics loved it, and it would be hugely influential on Whedon’s colleagues in television; many argue that it broke ground in terms of what you could do with a television show in terms of serialized storytelling, setting the stage for the modern TV era. Academics took it up, with the show attracting a tremendous amount of attention and discussion.
In 2002, the New York Times covered the first academic conference dedicated to the show. The organizer called Buffy “a tremendously rich text,” hence the flood of papers with titles like “Pain as Bright as Steel: The Monomyth and Light in ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer,’” which only gathered speed as the years passed. And while it was never the highest-rated show on television, it attracted an ardent core of fans.
But what stood out the most was the show’s protagonist: a young woman who stereotypically would have been a monster movie victim, with the script flipped: instead of screaming and swooning, she staked the vampires. This was deliberate, the core conceit of the concept, as Whedon said in many, many interviews. The helpless horror movie girl killed in the dark alley instead walks out victorious. He told Time in 1997 that the concept was born from the thought, “I would love to see a movie in which a blond wanders into a dark alley, takes care of herself and deploys her powers.” In Whedon’s framing, it was particularly important that it was a woman who walked out of that alley. He told another publication in 2002 that “the very first mission statement of the show” was “the joy of female power: having it, using it, sharing it.”
In 2021, when seemingly every new streaming property with a woman as its central character makes some half-baked claim to feminism, it’s easy to forget just how much Buffy stood out among its against its contemporaries. Action movies—with exceptions like Alien’s Ripley and Terminator 2's Sarah Conner—were ruled by hulking tough guys with macho swagger. When women appeared on screen opposite vampires, their primary job was to expose long, lovely, vulnerable necks. Stories and characters that bucked these larger currents inspired intense devotion, from Angela Chase of My So-Called Life to Dana Scully of The X-Files.
The broader landscape, too, was dismal. It was the conflicted era of girl power, a concept that sprang up in the wake of the successes of the second-wave feminist movement and the backlash that followed. Young women were constantly exposed to you-can-do-it messaging that juxtaposed uneasily with the reality of the world around them. This was the era of shitty, sexist jokes about every woman who came into Bill Clinton’s orbit and the leering response to the arrival of Britney Spears; Rush Limbaugh was a fairly mainstream figure.
At one point, Buffy competed against Ally McBeal, a show that dedicated an entire episode to a dancing computer-generated baby following around its lawyer main character, her biological clock made zanily literal. Consider this line from a New York Times review of the Buffy’s 1997 premiere: “Given to hot pants and boots that should guarantee the close attention of Humbert Humberts all over America, Buffy is just your average teen-ager, poutily obsessed with clothes and boys.”
Against that background, Buffy was a landmark. Besides the simple fact of its woman protagonist, there were unique plots, like the coming-out story for her friend Willow. An ambivalent 1999 piece in Bitch magazine, even as it explored the show’s tank-top heavy marketing, ultimately concluded, “In the end, it’s precisely this contextual conflict that sets Buffy apart from the rest and makes her an appealing icon. Frustrating as her contradictions may be, annoying as her babe quotient may be, Buffy still offers up a prime-time heroine like no other.”
A 2016 Atlantic piece, adapted from a book excerpt, makes the case that Buffy is perhaps best understood as an icon of third-wave feminism: “In its examination of individual and collective empowerment, its ambiguous politics of racial representation and its willing embrace of contradiction, Buffy is a quintessentially third-wave cultural production.” The show was vested with all the era’s longing for something better than what was available, something different, a champion for a conflicted “post-feminist” era—even if she was an imperfect or somewhat incongruous vessel. It wasn’t just Sunnydale that needed a chosen Slayer, it was an entire generation of women. That fact became intricately intertwined with Whedon himself.
Seemingly every interview involved a discussion of his fondness for stories about strong women. “I’ve always found strong women interesting, because they are not overly represented in the cinema,” he told New York for a 1997 piece that notes he studied both film and “gender and feminist issues” at Wesleyan; “I seem to be the guy for strong action women,’’ he told the New York Times in 1997 with an aw-shucks sort of shrug. ‘’A lot of writers are just terrible when it comes to writing female characters. They forget that they are people.’’ He often cited the influence of his strong, “hardcore feminist” mother, and even suggested that his protagonists served feminist ends in and of themselves: “If I can make teenage boys comfortable with a girl who takes charge of a situation without their knowing that’s what’s happening, it’s better than sitting down and selling them on feminism,” he told Time in 1997.
When he was honored by the organization Equality Now in 2006 for his “outstanding contribution to equality in film and television,” Whedon made his speech an extended riff on the fact that people just kept asking him about it, concluding with the ultimate answer: “Because you’re still asking me that question.” He presented strong women as a simple no-brainer, and he was seemingly always happy to say so, at a time when the entertainment business still seemed ruled by unapologetic misogynists. The internet of the mid-2010s only intensified Whedon’s anointment as a prototypical Hollywood ally, with reporters asking him things like how men could best support the feminist movement.
Whedon’s response: “A guy who goes around saying ‘I’m a feminist’ usually has an agenda that is not feminist. A guy who behaves like one, who actually becomes involved in the movement, generally speaking, you can trust that. And it doesn’t just apply to the action that is activist. It applies to the way they treat the women they work with and they live with and they see on the street.” This remark takes on a great deal of irony in light of Carpenter’s statement.
In recent years, Whedon’s reputation as an ally began to wane. Partly, it was because of the work itself, which revealed more and more cracks as Buffy receded in the rearview mirror. Maybe it all started to sour with Dollhouse, a TV show that imagined Eliza Dushku as a young woman rented out to the rich and powerful, her mind wiped after every assignment, a concept that sat poorly with fans. (Though Whedon, while he was publicly unhappy with how the show had turned out after much push-and-pull with the corporate bosses at Fox, still argued the conceit was “the most pure feminist and empowering statement I’d ever made—somebody building themselves from nothing,” in a 2012 interview with Wired.)
After years of loud disappointment with the TV bosses at Fox on Firefly and Dollhouse, Whedon moved into big-budget Hollywood blockbusters. He helped birth the Marvel-dominated era of movies with his work as director of The Avengers. But his second Avengers movie, Age of Ultron, was heavily criticized for a moment in which Black Widow laid out her personal reproductive history for the Hulk, suggesting her sterilization somehow made her a “monster.” In June 2017, his un-filmed script for a Wonder Woman adaptation leaked, to widespread mockery. The script’s introduction of Diana was almost leering: “To say she is beautiful is almost to miss the point. She is elemental, as natural and wild as the luminous flora surrounding. Her dark hair waterfalls to her shoulders in soft arcs and curls. Her body is curvaceous, but taut as a drawn bow.”
But Whedon’s real fall from grace began in 2017, right before MeToo spurred a cultural reckoning. His ex-wife, Kai Cole, published a piece in The Wrap accusing him of cheating off and on throughout their relationship and calling him a hypocrite:
“Despite understanding, on some level, that what he was doing was wrong, he never conceded the hypocrisy of being out in the world preaching feminist ideals, while at the same time, taking away my right to make choices for my life and my body based on the truth. He deceived me for 15 years, so he could have everything he wanted. I believed, everyone believed, that he was one of the good guys, committed to fighting for women’s rights, committed to our marriage, and to the women he worked with. But I now see how he used his relationship with me as a shield, both during and after our marriage, so no one would question his relationships with other women or scrutinize his writing as anything other than feminist.”
But his reputation was just too strong; the accusation that he didn’t practice what he preached didn’t quite stick. A spokesperson for Whedon told the Wrap: “While this account includes inaccuracies and misrepresentations which can be harmful to their family, Joss is not commenting, out of concern for his children and out of respect for his ex-wife. Many minimized the essay on the basis that adultery doesn’t necessarily make you a bad feminist or erase a legacy. Whedon similarly seemed to shrug off Ray Fisher’s accusations of creating a toxic workplace; instead, Warner Media fired Fisher.
But Carpenter’s statement—which struck right at the heart of his Buffy-based legacy for progressivism—may finally change things. Even at the time, the plotline in which Charisma Carpenter was written off Angel—carrying a demon child that turned her into “Evil Cordelia,” ending the season in a coma, and quite simply never reappearing—was unpopular. Asked about what had happened in a 2009 panel at DragonCon, she said that “my relationship with Joss became strained,” continuing: “We all go through our stuff in general [behind the scenes], and I was going through my stuff, and then I became pregnant. And I guess in his mind, he had a different way of seeing the season go… in the fourth season.”
“I think Joss was, honestly, mad. I think he was mad at me and I say that in a loving way, which is—it’s a very complicated dynamic working for somebody for so many years, and expectations, and also being on a show for eight years, you gotta live your life. And sometimes living your life gets in the way of maybe the creator’s vision for the future. And that becomes conflict, and that was my experience.”
In her statement on Twitter, Carpenter alleged that after Whedon was informed of her pregnancy, he called her into a closed-door meeting and “asked me if I was ‘going to keep it,’ and manipulatively weaponized my womanhood and faith against me.” She added that “he proceeded to attack my character, mock my religious beliefs, accuse me of sabotaging the show, and then unceremoniously fired me following the season once I gave birth.” Carpenter said that he called her fat while she was four months pregnant and scheduled her to work at 1 a.m. while six months pregnant after her doctor had recommended shortening her hours, a move she describes as retaliatory. What Carpenter describes, in other words, is an absolutely textbook case of pregnancy discrimination in the workplace, the type of bullshit the feminist movement exists to fight—at the hands of the man who was for years lauded as a Hollywood feminist for his work on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.
Many of Carpenter’s colleagues from Buffy and Angel spoke out in support, including Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar. “While I am proud to have my name associated with Buffy Summers, I don’t want to be forever associated with the name Joss Whedon,” she said in a statement. Just shy of a decade after that 2013 speech, many of the cast members on the show that put him on that stage are cutting ties.
Whedon garnered a reputation as pop culture’s ultimate feminist man because Buffy did stand out so much, an oasis in a wasteland. But in 2021, the idea of a lone man being responsible for creating women’s stories—one who told the New York Times, “I seem to be the guy for strong action women”—seems like a relic. It’s depressing to consider how many years Hollywood’s first instinct for “strong action women” wasn’t a woman, and to think about what other people could have done with those resources. When Wonder Woman finally reached the screen, to great acclaim, it was with a woman as director.
Besides, Whedon didn’t make Buffy all by himself—many, many women contributed, from the actresses to the writers to the stunt workers, and his reputation grew so large it eclipsed their part in the show’s creation. Even as he preached feminism, Whedon benefitted from one of the oldest, most sexist stereotypes: the man who’s a benevolent, creative genius. And Buffy, too, overshadowed all the other contributors who redefined who could be a hero on television and in speculative fiction, from individual actors like Gillian Anderson to the determined, creative women who wrote science fiction and fantasy over the last several decades to—perhaps most of all—the fans who craved different, better stories. Buffy helped change what you could put on TV, but it didn’t create the desire to see a character like her. It was that desire, as much as Whedon himself, that gave Buffy the Vampire Slayer her power.
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So...you’re mine, huh? pt. 2
Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader; Peter Parker x reader (eventually)
Word count: 1,798
Summary: When your mother passes, she wrote in her will if she passed when you were still a minor, guardianship would get passed to Tony Stark. You have no idea what their relationship was, despite both of them living their lives in the spotlight. However, for someone who lived in the spotlight, your mother held plenty of secrets.
A/N: So um.....surprise!!! It’s finally here!!!!! I’m sososoSO sorry ;_; life’s been kind of rough and since I’ve been in uni it’s been hard to actually get time for myself, but I’ve finally actually gotten the time to sit down and write it out. I’m sorry it’s not that long, but I promise I won’t ghost like that again, but without further ado, here’s chapter 2!
(Also credits to owner of gif)
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The funeral felt like everything was moving in slow motion. A couple of people came up to talk about (Y/M/N), and Tony noticed how whenever the people at the podium would give you a pitying glance in between their eulogies. The older man that was seating with you earlier isn’t sitting up front with you. He sits in a row behind you, leaving you all by yourself in the front. Tony also noticed how stoic you appeared to look. You sat with your head tall, your hair styled out of your face, tightly and professionally, evenly squared shoulders; the perfect sitting posture.
A couple of people near him whispered about you. Some admired how composed you looked, just like your mother. Some whispered that you looked like you didn’t care that your mother passed, you just cared for the money that you were inheriting. Selfish brat someone whispered around Tony.
She inherits all that her mother worked for without having to put any work ethic in
She isn’t going up to talk at her mother’s funeral?
She does take after her mother after all..couldn’t give a care less that her parents died, why wouldn’t her daughter act the same way now?
In Tony’s opinion, you didn’t look composed and neither looked like you didn’t care. You looked like a kid who was trying to hold it together in a room full of adults in order to be perceived as an adult. A child trying to act far more mature than their actual age.
When the funeral was over, people started getting up to either talk to you, or to talk to others around them. Disgusted with how people talked about you while a funeral was taking place, Tony walked over to talk to you instead. Besides, he felt that he needed to get to the bottom of how the hell (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) had a kid he knew nothing about. He also wanted to figure out whose kid you were. No kid should have to get through their only parent’s funeral alone.
When Tony walked over, you were finishing a conversation with one of the guests. Tony stuck his hand, reaching for a handshake. You accepted his handshake, and surprised him when it was a solid, firm one. Guess (Y/M/N) did teach you well.
“Ms. (Y/L/N). We haven’t had the chance to meet, and I wish it was under better circumstances. I’ve known your mother since we were children, and I know what a devastating loss it is now that she’s gone. I know you’re hearing this phrase more often than you’d like to right now, but please know when I say that if you ever need help, please do come to me. Stark Tower or Avengers Headquarters, you'll be accepted anywhere there.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That’s very kind of you. I as well wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances. You’re kind of my hero, honestly. The advancements you’ve made with arc reactor technology is amazing.” (Y/N) admitted shyly, while sporting a small smile.
Tony analyzed your face. Jesus, it was like Tony was thrown back in time. I looked so much like your mother when she was much younger. That’s where the similarities stopped though. Your shy demeanor and politeness were honest reactions, no acting involved. Your eyes were also different from (Y/M/N)’s. (Y/M/N) looked at everyone like a certain degree of coldness, keeping people at a distance. Yours were gentle, inviting. There’s no way this kid can be hers. She’s nothing like her.
“Mr. Stark,” you interrupted his thoughts, “I’m only telling a select group of people who actually knew my mother well. We told the public the coroners haven’t signed off yet. That, however, isn’t true, and we'll be doing a more private service. I want to give enough time for the press to leave, and for people who my mother claimed that ‘actually cared for her money, not her well-being to leave’. I’d like it if you were to join us.”
“Please, call me Tony. I’ll be there, Ms. (Y/L/N), don’t worry. Gives us all the chance to actually give your mother the goodbye that she deserves, don’t you think?”
You blinked at him, an expression of shock that briefly broke your composure. “Of course, Mr-” she caught herself when Tony smirked at her, and she smiled sheepishly. “sorry. Tony. It’s going to take me awhile. There’ll be an announcement that’ll be given for the burial service so please, stick around and chat. Please excuse me, I’ve got to greet the others who came as well. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Tony.” She bid him a small smile and left him standing by himself.
When you left him, Tony went to grab himself a cup of water. While sipping on his water, the older man that sat next to you before the funeral approached Tony.
“Mr. Stark, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. Though, I wish I would be meeting you right now at something like the Stark Expo.”
Tony didn’t respond, but took another sip to avoid the small talk that the man was trying to achieve. The man cleared his throat.
“Right then. Mr. Stark, I’m Philip Ashcraft, (Y/M/N)’s lawyer. Could we step out in the hallway and talk? (Y/M/N) left something important to you, and the both of us would very much rather have this conversation where someone can’t overhear.”
“You find a hallway during a private funeral? Let me guess, you wanna suggest the coat closet next? I mean I guess we can meet in there, but you have to promise no playing seven minutes of heaven-”
“Mr. Stark, please. It’s of the utmost importance.”
“Why don’t you take this up with my secretary, Mr. Ashcraft? They can schedule a meeting with you within this next week. After all, I am not in the mood to discuss business right now, considering that we’re currently at a funeral.” Tony took a sip of his water, raising an eyebrow at the lawyer.
“This isn’t something that can be pushed away! Mr. Stark, this is in regards to what (Y/M/N) has left for you, and her will states for you to receive her last wishes as soon as the funeral’s over.”
Tony sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, (Y/M/N)’s funeral is not over. If whatever (Y/M/N) left for me is that important, then you can wait until after the burial service is over. That’s when the funeral is over and that’s when you will have my attention. Until then, kindly fuck off.”
The lawyer swallowed, clearly trying to keep his temper, and walked away, begrudgingly. Victorious, Tony walked away from the water pitcher and found himself an empty corner that no one else would bother him. Besides, he had some homework to start before (Y/M/N)’s burial service started. If he didn’t know anything about (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s existence, then how much did the rest of the world know about you?
Tony pulled his phone out of pocket, and pulled it close to his face, pretending like he was taking a phone call. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. I need you to do something for me really quick.”
“What do you need, boss?”
“Look for anything in regards to (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don’t care if it’s newspaper clippings, science fair photos, or even a mugshot. Anything that just proves her existence.”
“Looking online now. I’ll check back in with you when my analysis online is complete.”
“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony mumbled to himself. He put his phone back in his pocket and decided to wait out the thirty minutes by himself.
******
Tony watched as time passed and those that were clearly not invited or were exhausted from trying to butt into (Y/N)’s business left the room. Tony saw that besides himself, you, that asswipe of a lawyer, and approximately two other people were invited to the service. He noticed that the one who told him who you were wasn’t included in the group. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.
The burial service went by just as smoothly as the service given inside. Tony noticed that when you placed flowers on the headstone, your eyes were glassy. So this was the group you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, not terribly vulnerable, but enough to know that this clearly affected you. When the service finished, the two others were conversing with you, one holding one of your hands as you wiped your eyes delicately, clearly still trying not to cry. That’s the time that the lawyer decided to act. He put a hand on your shoulder, and whispered something in your ear. You nodded and went back to listening. The lawyer made his way to Tony, and opened his mouth to speak, but Tony beat him to the punch.
“Alright, bug-a-boo, now we can talk.”
“Do you mind if we talk inside, Mr. Stark? I am required to have your signature.”
Tony sighed and made an after you gesture with his hand. “Christ, what is it that (Y/M/N) left behind that is so goddamn important that you have to dump on me at a funeral and require me to sign?”
Ashcraft clenched his jaw, and opened the door to the funeral home and stalked into the room where the public service was held, Tony close behind. Ashcraft unlocked his briefcase, which held an envelope that was thick with papers. He pushed it into Tony’s hand with plenty of force.
“The thing that (Y/M/N) is ‘dumping’ on you is her child. She left guardianship claims on (Y/N) to you, Mr. Stark” Ashcraft said bitterly.
Tony hurried to open the envelope. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way you actually left your kid to him. It’s gotta be some kind of a joke. At least, that was what Tony tried to convince himself before he found a handwritten will that was in your handwriting. The last sentence is what made his heart drop in his chest.
In the case of my passing before (Y/N) can legally care for herself, I leave guardianship rights to Anthony Edward Stark.
Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s search had been completed, and only included one document. Tapping on the document, it opened into a scan of your birth certificate. What drew Tony’s attention was the name that was entered for the father’s name. Tony softly scoffed to himself.
“So...you’re mine huh?”
#avengers fanfiction#avengers x reader#tony stark#tony stark x daughter#tony stark x reader#Tony Stark fanfiction#peter parker x stark!daughter#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker
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The Firsts With My Last || Park Jisung
Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, best friends to lover au
Pairing: childhood best friend!jisung x reader
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning/s: small argument, food
Synopsis: a collection of firsts with Park Jisung
A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh!!! it’s finally here! I cannot express how happy and excited I am for this! I worked so so so hard on this and I hope that you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome! Thank you to the lovely Elle @joh--pping for making the header!
Networks: @nctnetwrite @nct-writers @kpopscape @neoturtles @neoswitchnet
Taglist: @moonbeamsung @lebrookestore @jaeminpeachy @joh--pping @kyuwoyo @nksideblog @ncvltrtchnlgy @vera-liscious @ncteaxhoe @neojaems @ethaeriyeol
First meeting
First grade, a time where your biggest worry was if you would be home in time to watch your favourite cartoon. That was also the age you met Park Jisung. Your teacher had handed out a simple colouring-in to keep the students entertained for the few minutes before the lunch bell rang. You had been peacefully drawing when one of your classmates, Chenle, had tried to grab the blue coloured pencil that was in your grasp. It was part of a pencil set your grandmother had given to you and you held it very dear to your heart, so the fact that one of troublemakers was trying to take it from you, made you severally upset. Despite the discouragements from his friends to leave you alone, you and Chenle continued your intense game of tug-o-war on the pencil until you heard a heart stopping snap. The pencil splintered down the middle, unable to take the pressure anymore. You could only eyeball it in shock, reality finally settling in that Chenle had broken your favourite pencil. The bell rang and you stared at Chenle, scooping up the two halves of the broken pencil into your chubby hands. You were the first one out of the classroom, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your lunchbox and disappeared into the playground.
You hid behind a tree, attempting to summon your much needed magical abilities to somehow stick the two halves back together. No matter how hard you pressed them into each other, they wouldn’t bond together with an invisible force. At this realisation, you began to sob again, hiding your face into your knees, quiet wails escaping your lips. You continued to cry until you saw a pair of red and blue shoes come into your tear blurred vision from beneath your legs. You looked up and were met with a chubby cheeked child, a child you recognised as one of your classmates and one of Chenle’s friends who had tried to convince him to stop roughhousing with you.
“I’m sorry about your pencil. Chenle can be a bit of a butthead,” The boy gave you an awkward smile before shifting the wood chips and dirt around with the toe of his shoe. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked politely, his eyes big and friendly. As much as you wanted to be alone and definitely did not want to be accompanied by someone who was on friendly terms with the culprit of the state your pencil was in, you couldn't find it in your heart to say no to his friendly gesture. You nodded sadly and he immediately occupied the space next to you. He looked at the broken pieces in your hand and a smile crept to his face.
“There is one good thing about your broken pencil,” He stated, making you snap your head towards him.
“What is there good about this? My favourite pencil is broken because of your dumb friend,” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were so overcome with emotions and anger for what had happened, it slipped out. The boy looked at you, a little shocked at the fact you had called his friend dumb, but at the same time, he had called him dumb on multiple occasions.
“Think about it! If you sharpen this side of this one,” He pointed to the more splintered of the two pieces, “you could have two blue pencils,” He said with such innocence and optimism that it was infectious. You looked at the half and smiled. You had never thought about it like that. You were too caught up in the fact that it was broken to focus on anything else.
“You’re right!” You squeaked, a small laugh erupting from you. You turned to the boy once again, an unanswered question lingering in your mind.
“What’s your name?”
The boy smiled again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. “Park Jisung. What’s yours?”
“Y/N.”
First Realisation of Feelings
The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’
“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.
“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade)
“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.
“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again?
“Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you.
“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.”
After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead.
Then he looked at you.
Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you?
“Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.”
“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.
“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym.
“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”
“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head.
It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.
“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out.
Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source.
Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was
First Confession
Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion.
“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.
“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you.
“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.
“You don’t know that.”
“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said.
“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!”
Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache.
You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier.
Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.
“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.
“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.
“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet.
“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing.
“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him.
“Did you say something?” You asked.
“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park.
“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers.
You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign.
“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand.
“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him.
“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.
“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts.
“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity.
“What-”
“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”
“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.
“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod.
“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.
First Date
“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself.
“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you.
“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building.
“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.
“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.
“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?”
“More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately.
This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend.
“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles.
“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet.
“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.
“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.
“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual.
Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his.
“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.
“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.
First Kiss
“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?
“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.
“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.
“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.
“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.
“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.
To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.
You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.
The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face.
“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.
“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.
“Do it again,” You egged.
“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.
“Kiss me again.”
To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world.
First Time Falling in Love
The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.
The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.
“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.
“Yes, we better,”
You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.
First Argument
You can only recount one argument with Jisung.
You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?
Wrong.
“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.
“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller.
When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.
“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago.
“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.
“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two.
“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision.
Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.
“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”
“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this?
It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe.
You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.
Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape.
“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.
“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”
“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.
“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled.
“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips.
“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck.
“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in.
“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”
“Hey!”
First Dance
“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum.
“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.
“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.
“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.
“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.
“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer.
The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe.
Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.
“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.
“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.
You are my first love, and I intend for you to be my last
#nctnetwrite#nct-writers#kpopscape#neoturtles#neoswitch#kpop#fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#kpop fluff#nct fanfiction#nct fluff#nct dream#nct dream fanfiction#park jisung fluff#park jisung fanfiction#kpop angst#nct angst#nct dream angst#nct dream jisung#nct jisung#park jisung
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So since y’all seemed to like Kanej kid, let’s do Zoyalai kid. Also David isn’t dead in this because it is to sad
||ROW SPOILERS||
TW, this has brief mentions of infertility and describes labor, nothing to graphic just talks about how painful it is
After the wedding zoya and Nikolai were both excited to start a family
Nikolai; while he adores his sister Linnea and his father, never really was able to grow up in a loving household
He never wanted that for his children
He and Vasily had a horrible relationship growing up and he wanted to di everything in his power to make sure his kids had a healthy sibling relationship
Zoya on the other hand never really thought she’d have kids
Before everything went down she kinda assumed she’d work as a general and work to help Grisha
She never thought she’d have children
That obviously had to change
The country needed heirs
Zoya already decided that since she was probably gonna live a loooooong time, when her heir came of age she would step down; that way she wouldn’t love for a super long time.
Now that Zoya was gonna have children she wasn’t honestly sure about
What if they hold her back?
What if she gives up to many duties for them?
But higher the all these other worries she didn’t want to turn into her own mother
No matter how much Nikolai assured her that never will happen
Zoya still had worries
Zoya was a lot of things but motherly she was not
Nevertheless in February Zoya and Nikolai told there friends they were expecting
They were all incredibly happy for them
Tamar loved children although she herself didn’t want any and couldn’t wait to teach the kid things like how to ride a horse or shoot
Tolya objected saying the kid should be well educated on poatry and great works that way the Nazyalensky dynasty might be somewhat pious
Genya was hoping for a girl. Genya and David had there son Forrest earlier that year and Genya was already planning play dates
David was happy for his friends and had already started on projects for toys for the kid
When they wrote Mal and Alina they were ecstatic
While Mal gave tips on how to handle babies to Nikolai
Alina with her wiles and years of friendship with Zoya figured out all the way from Keramzin Zoya was worried
She wrote “Zoya babe imma cut to the chase, your nervous, your scared, your probably worried you’ll turn out to be a horrible mother. And imma tell you your not. Cause you’ve got an amazing freaking team. You’ve got Nikolai, Magnus, Linnea, and Genya and David, the twins, and of course myself. There’s no way in hell we’d let you turn out horrible to the kid. We’ve got you”
It helped Zoya a lot
She decided it was orphan wiles that Alina used to diagnose her exact problem from the letter she wrote to her
And Zoya did have wonderful people to help her
She wasn’t alone
Zoya had been trying to remember that more
Three months along Zoya was safely into Trmester two and it was time to tell the public
This was crucial to the monarchy
While zoya and Nikolai were popular
They needed an heir to convive people of the security of the nation
They made a public speech announcing the baby and Ravka went wild
If there’s one thing Ravkans know how to do it’s rally around babies
Letter came pouring in from name suggestions to old wives tales
They said Rosemary made the baby healthier
They said they should name there child Plumje
Well the Plumje comment was from some Kerch girl Zoya found strange but never mind that
The announcement was huge
The people had hope
Hope that wolves wouldn’t come knocking
Hope that there boys and girls wouldn’t be drafted
Hope for peace
While the people rejoiced Zoyas pregnancy was getting tougher
She had a easy enough first trimester but the second? That was rough
The morning sickness was bad
Her Healer; a no nonsense Fjerdan Women said that the vomiting wasn’t something that could be healed
And so Zoya suffered on
Zoya insisted on keeping her normal schedule
Her usual meetings with Grisha and the spy’s
Passive agressive letters to the Kerch
Aggressive aggressive letters to the shu
And trying to figure out whether or not there was a revolution group in the Wandering Isle
Zoyas schedule was already stressed and the baby wasn’t helping
Eventually her healer; Monika, put her foot down
“Your Magesty” She started “if you do not alleviate your stress I guarantee your pregnancy will be worse”
“Look Monika I can handle a little throw up”
Monika and Zoya attended the little palace together
While Monika was a healer and back then the animosity between corporalki and etherealki were high, they were friends
It was good to have a powerful healer in your corner when half the little palace hates you
And it was good to have a powerful squaller in your corner when your Fjerdan and in enemy territory
“Zoya you are endangering your child” Monika stated
By this statement Nikolai had enough
And zoya finally listened
Nikolai assumed some of her duties and Zoya started to feel a bit better
Her second trimester was stressful for there relationship
Nikolai had a hard time understanding zoya
And Zoyas fears started to grow
But they were a good couple
And they worked through tension before
Zoya opened up about her worries of being a competent queen with a child
She leaned on Nikolai more
And they worked together to fix the damage
By the end of her second trimester there relationship was healthier
And they thought the third couldn’t be as bad
In a way they were right
Her morning sickness while still present was significantly less then her second trimester
However I new thing arose
A question that everyone had been thinking
“What if the baby is Grisha?”
The Ravkans had accepted a Grisha queen
But a Grisha dynasty was another thing
Monika told them outright that the baby was probably Grisha
Being Grisha tended to run in families
And Zoya was fairly sure her paternal grandmother was also a squaller
The whole science of Grisha heritage wasn’t studied well
Most Grisha were in Ravka in the second army
And most of the soldiers don’t have children
Zoya also learned her new found ability to sense Grisha wasn’t fool proof
Sometimes she couldn’t tell at all
And in Genyas case of being somewhere between a corporalki and materialki, she couldn’t tell what she was
She also couldn’t sense anything in Forrest Kostyk
That meant they couldn’t rely on Zoyas power
Nikolai couldn’t help but think tracing heritage would be easier if he wasn’t a bastard
His mother’s line was easy
She was a Fjerdan princess so he could trace everything back from the very start
And from his mother not a drop of Grisha blood ran through his veins
His fathers got murky
Magnus didn’t come from nobility
He was self made
A self made orphan
So other then his father neither he nor Magnus knew anything about Grisha influence
Nevertheless they had other worries
Zoya was in her third trimester and was going to give birth any minute now
Zoya honestly didn’t think she would make it this far
And that has nothing to do with her fears of motherhood
Her own mother had four miscarriages
Pregnancy complications were common
Especially in Ravka where most couldn’t afford mediks
But now that the due date was fast approaching Zoya was in fact okay
Zoya can handle pain, she’s handled much worse
Labor was one of the least of her worries
The due date was October eighth
And on time and punctual Zoya went into labor during lunch
Nikolai joked it would be a good trait for a ruler to show up on time
However Zoya was in to much pain to think about a snarky retort
She had vastly underestimated how much this would hurt
The pain was blinding
But Zoya was strong enough to survive the fall
And so in 3:07 PM son October eighth
Prince Mycanae Juris Nazyalensky was born (prounounced My-kuh-nay-uh because I threw some random vowels together and made it a name)
Myca (My Kuh) for short
With a tuft of chocolate brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes he shone
Nikolai absolutely adored him
He would rock him and sing him lullabies
But mostly tell him stories
About the amazing Privateer Sturmhond
Of the allusive Juris
Of the little termite
Zoya in the other hand had a different approach to there newborn
When he first cried she was elated
Zoya didn’t hold back the tears of happiness and didn’t even swear the healers to secrecy after
Zoya was the epitome of
“Oh god it’s a baby, as I holding him wrong? Does he have the right clothes on? He’s so fragile and precious”
Monika had to tell her three times that Myca’s crib was fine for him and it wasn’t to hard
However the family’s elation was short lived
They were a family
But they were also the rulers of Ravka
And Ravka needed to see the face of there hope
Four hours after his birth Nikolai presented him before the nobility
Zoya still wasn’t feeling to great and Nikolai Insisted he could do it
This is what the Ravkans needed
The baby met stability
Met peace
For once in many years the people could lay down in there beds without fear
But to Zoya and Nikolai
There baby wasn’t a political tool
Or a savior
He was just a baby
A perfect
Small
Baby
This is what love does.
Im really proud of myself for accomplishing this. I worked really hard on it and to keep our characters in canon. My ask box is open and n do any Grishaverse asks
If this gets 25 likes I’ll do a part two 😉
I defo think Nikolai and Zoya would have more then one kid
Also I kid you not I couldn’t find any good names for the life of me so I eventually took a break and was doing my History homework when I was reading some old Greek thing and saw the word “Mycenae” and was like “Yeah I can massively mispronounce this and make it a name”
Here is part two https://dablackdahlia.tumblr.com/post/651104016423583744/the-black-dahlia
I also made a Kanej kid one here
#shadow and bone trilogy#dragon zoya#zoya nazyalensky#row spoilers#rule of wolves spoilers#king of scars#zoya x nikolai#nikolai duology#zoyalai#pregnancy#zoya and nikolai#zoya and Nikolai baby fic#leigh bardugo#the grishaverse#genya safin#david kostyk#genya x david#tolya yul bataar#tolya and tamar#tamar kir bataar#shadow and bone netflix#i worked on this all day#i actually love it#lowkey hate it tho
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Why Self-Care Isn’t Selfish
The pandemic taught us that when you take care of yourself, you’re also taking care of your family, friends and community.
What’s the most important lesson of pandemic life? Self-care isn’t selfish.
During Covid-19, we’ve learned that we are all connected, and that taking care of ourselves — staying safe and staying well — is a way to care for our community. Taking precautions is a way to keep ourselves, our loved ones and our neighbors from getting sick and avoid overwhelming our health care system.
One of the challenges of 2021 will be to continue making self-care a priority once the pandemic has passed.
If you’re someone who has always said you don’t have time for self-care, or that self-care seems selfish and self-indulgent, you’re not alone. “One of the things that you come across all the time is the idea that ‘I can’t invest in things that are good for me, because it’s taking away from my ability to be a good parent or do what I need to do at work,’” said Kelly McGonigal, a health psychologist and lecturer at Stanford University. “Wouldn’t it be great if we learn to lean in to our interdependence, and that we can actually take some kind of joy in knowing that when I take care of myself, I often am also taking care of others?”
Start 2021 by redefining what self-care is. Self-care is not just making time to recharge your batteries with a nap, meditation or by taking a break from your family — although all those things count. Self-care ultimately is about setting priorities, setting boundaries and finding purpose.
“Everybody understands that relaxation and rest is important,” said Dr. McGonigal, whose latest book is “The Joy of Movement.” “So there are aspects of self-care related to sleep — everyone should take a bath, light candles. There’s this idea that we need to calm down. But what can you experience today that is going to fill you with the positive emotions you need to do the most important things in your life? It’s about refueling yourself in order to engage with life.”
Jack Groppel, an executive coach and professor of exercise and sport science at Judson University in Elgin, Ill., said it’s always difficult to convince people that they can make time for exercise and other forms of self-care.
“Self care is a lot of things,” said Dr. Groppel, co-author of “The Corporate Athlete: How to Achieve Maximal Performance in Business and Life.” “It can be exercise, creating boundaries. It’s keeping yourself safe emotionally. Maybe it’s not arguing with that uncle about politics right now. It can be spiritual. But you are in control of it.”
Lean In to Self-Care
Self-care is different for everyone. Here are five self-care exercises to help you make yourself a top priority in 2021. Choose one or try them all.
Give the best hours of your day to yourself: Dr. Groppel often advises clients to map out a typical day, from dawn until bedtime. You probably spend about eight hours sleeping — but how do you spend the other 16 hours? Write down the time you spend preparing meals, doing your job, shopping, watching television, doing laundry, helping children with homework, caring for an aging parent, catching up on emails
Next, Dr. Groppel asks: What one- or two-hour period in each day do you feel your best? Your most energetic? Your most productive? Now look at your list, he says. Who gets those hours? Try giving that time to yourself instead.
Giving yourself the best part of your day doesn’t mean taking a two-hour break from life. It means focusing on your priorities, rather than someone else’s. You can use that hour or two for anything you want — it might be for a hobby, a work project that you feel passionate about, time with your children or even to volunteer and help others. Giving yourself time every day to focus on your personal goals and values is the ultimate form of self-care.
Pick a word of the year: Choose a single word that describes the goals, values or mood you want to set for 2021. Last year, Dr. McGonigal chose the word “vitality.” “I had no idea how relevant it was going to be,” she said. This year she’s thinking about choosing the word dance, “because of all the meanings that dance has for me personally, in terms of celebration and community and courage.” Your word can be anything that matters to you: community, family, exercise, love, health, energy. Use your word as a mini mantra throughout the year to remind yourself to make self-care a priority.
Create a respite plan: If you are a caregiver to an aging parent, ill spouse or disabled child, self-care probably feels impossible. Finding time for exercise, spiritual support or just having some fun is more easily said than done. If you leave it to chance, self-care won’t happen. That’s why it’s important to design a family respite plan that identifies your needs and wishes, as well as the types of help other people can provide. Call a family meeting or call your friends. Tell everyone what you need — don’t expect them to automatically know how to help. The advocacy group AARP has a guide for designing a respite care plan.
Help someone else: Our bodies and minds benefit in a variety of ways when we help others. Studies show that having a strong sense of purpose protects us from stress in the short term and predicts long-term better health. If the traditional forms of self-care feel too self-focused to you, think about how helping others can be good for you. “It’s also the sense of having a responsibility to make a difference if you can,” said Dr. McGonigal. “Did I stand up for something this year in a way that might have made a difference? Did I allow myself to participate in that bigger-than-self process?”
Imagine the end of 2021: One of Dr. McGonigal’s favorite exercises is to ask someone to imagine life one year into the future. Imagine you’ve made some important change in your life that you would feel grateful for. Imagining your future self can help you focus on positive acts of self-care you can commit to now. “Really let your imagination run free,” she said. “Is there a change you could commit to? Is there a part of yourself that you want to really learn and grow? Can you imagine being grateful to your future self for making that commitment?”
By Tara Parker-Pope (The New York Times). Image Credit: Andrew B Myers.
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HC: Asking you out on a date (Inarizaki team members x reader)
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 1,471
A/N: Inarizaki boys asking girls out on a date. Featuring Kita, Suna, and The Miya Twins.
Disclaimer: I don't own Haikyuu!! or its characters, but I own the idea of this fic.
Premise: The Inarizaki Foundation Day Festival activities were announced during the school's General Assembly. The events included the usual fair, booths, and games. The highlight of the festival was the dance party, where everyone was supposed to attend in formal attire and bring a date.
Kita
He heard about the dance the moment it was announced, and secretly worried about it despite his cool demeanor.
He scanned the school every day for the perfect girl to ask out. It should be an easy enough task - except he didn't know what "the perfect girl" was.
In class, he'd low-key pay attention to his girl classmates and think - she's too loud, this one's too quiet, the other girl is too flashy, and the other girl is too high maintenance for his taste.
When girls tried to ask him to the dance, he'd politely decline and tell them he'll be doing the asking, thank you very much.
Before he knew it, there was only a week to go before the dance, and he was still dateless.
As all his teammates talked about their dates and what they were supposed to do during the dance after volleyball practice, he opted to stay away and pretended to practice his tosses against a wall.
As he tried to block off the sound of Atsumu's voice declaring he and his date were gonna win King and Queen of the Dance, he noticed you quietly passing on water bottles with a wistful look in your eyes. He grinned to himself and thought that their new manager was not only hardworking, but she also loved to daydream.
"Are you going to the dance too?" He asked softly, as you handed him the water bottle. Startled, you looked at him and blushed. "Oh, I'm not," you replied quietly. "But I'm sure it'll be a wonderful event."
Curious, he asked why you weren't going, to which you replied, "No one's asked me."
He could've sworn he heard the trumpets playing a victorious melody in the background. Clearing his throat, he straightened up and put the water bottle aside. "(Y/n)," he said, as he looked at you straight in the eyes and smiled. "If I ask, will you please go to the dance with me?"
Suna
The first thing he thought of when the announcement came out was, 'what a pain'! He hated dancing and social gatherings that required him to dress formally. And he especially hated having to look for a date.
Compared to Kita, he didn't have a hard time dodging girls when they attempted to ask him to the dance. He would simply walk on by, pretending not to hear them.
He would bail out of the dance if he could, unfortunately, it was a requirement and if he wanted to stay on the volleyball team, he had to comply with all the requirements.
"Tsk, that dance is a bummer!" He randomly said in exasperation, as he waited in line at the cafeteria during lunch. "You could say that again!"
He did a double-take and saw you standing next to him, with the latest Hennseizer headphones on your neck and an uninterested look on your pretty face.
He couldn't get you off his mind during practice. He thought of the way you rattled off about how unfair it was to force people to attend the dance, and he couldn't get over how your mood matched his. He would've asked for your name, too, but you easily blended with the lunchtime crowd.
Suna was a mess - so much so that when Osamu spiked the ball, he didn't bother blocking it. "Suna! Get your fucking head in the game!" An angry Astumu screamed, much to his annoyance.
The same thing happened several times, prompting Kita to step in and intervene before Atsumu rearranged his face. "You seem distracted. Go walk around and clear your mind."
So walk outside the gym he did, wandering around campus in search of a girl with short black hair, cool blue eyes, awesome headphones, and a killer attitude. He almost gave up until he saw you coming out of the library.
"Hey," he said. "You hate dancing, right?" You cocked your head quizzically but nodded. "I hate it too. So why don't you be my date and let's hate it together? Also, my name is Suna. What's yours?"
Osamu
He's a member of the 'dancing is a pain' club along with Suna. Why can't he do other things like sell food or man one of the game booths? Dancing was never his strong suit. Next to Atsumu, he was a total klutz.
He avoided the topic like the plague, even during mealtimes with his family when their grandma would ask who he's bringing to the dance.
"You'd better tell us who it is so we can tell her to wear iron shoes," Atsumu would tease, causing them to fight over dinner time a couple of times.
The whole campus has dance fever now that the event was just a month away, and while everyone in the team already had dates, he was still stalling.
You came up to him after cheerleading practice one afternoon. Determined to ask him out, you hid your nerves and smiled. "Osamu-san, have you found a date for the dance yet?" As soon as he said no, you took a deep breath and said, "Well, would you like -"
"Don't say it!" You heard him cut you off and saw him raise a hand to stop you. After that, he gave you a slight bow and ran off.
He couldn't believe you wanted to ask him to the dance. He was so shocked, he almost choked on the rice ball he was eating. He needed to do something about this. And fast!
"Tsumu, I need a favor." Atsumu raised an eyebrow at his twin and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Teach me how to dance."
After two weeks, a bruised ego, and a dozen of blisters later, Osamu was finally deemed by his brother as 'passable'. The next step was to look for you and pop the question.
He found you on your way to cheerleading practice, and he jogged beside you to catch your attention. "So, listen, (y/n)-chan. I know I asked you not to ask me to the dance before," he said and you blushed. "But that's because I sucked at dancing then. I think I'm passable now - at least that's what Atsumu says. So, now will you go to the dance with me?"
Atsumu
As soon as the dance was announced, he was so sure that he'd have his pick of pretty and popular girls in school. I mean, who wouldn't want to date a varsity player, right?
He watched Kita, Suna, and Aran turn down one girl after another, and was initially chill over the fact that none of the girls asked him. "Maybe they're still working up their courage," he thought.
But days turned into weeks, and he still had zero offers. He wouldn't have minded not getting asked, except he found out that Osamu just got asked out by one of the cheerleaders, too.
"It's so weird. Isn't it weird? Why won't anyone ask me out?" He asked you as you helped him with his Math homework. You sighed and looked at him. "There's still a couple of weeks to the dance, why don't you focus on this first?"
Every single time he met with you for your tutoring session, he always complained about not receiving invitations to the dance.
You had gone from giving him tips on calculus to tips on how to smile and look approachable.
"It still hasn't worked. Another week has passed and I haven't received an invitation," he whined when he met up for you for the Science study period. "That's not true. I heard several cheerleaders asked you out," you quipped. He frowned and said they were too noisy and you rolled your eyes.
Atsumu had a funny way of diverting your attention from school work to something else, so you'd end up staying in the library longer than necessary.
On one of your study sessions a week to go before the dance, he sighed miserably and said, "I still don't have a date!" You looked up from your textbook, frowning. "And why exactly is that?" If you had looked closely, you'd had seen the mischievous look in his brown eyes.
"That's because the question is all wrong," he said, and you raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. "Well, how exactly do you want it asked - Atsumu, will you go to the dance with me?" He smiled at you. "Why, yes, (y/n)-chan," he said, holding your hand. "I'd love to go to the dance with you. And no, you can't take it back."
The end.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! headcanons#haikyuu!! hcs#hq!!#hq!! headcanons#atsumu x reader#haikyuu atsumu#atsumu miya#miya atsumu#miya twins hcs#miya twins headcanons#miya twins#osamu miya#miya osamu#shinsuke kita#kita shinsuke#suna rintaro#rintaro suna#iris writes#inarizaki
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Family
Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago
Character/s: Antonio Dawson x Reader
Warning/s: kidnapping
Word Count: 4,407
Request: Hi there, can I get an Antonio Dawson x reader, please? Along the lines of Antonio and reader work together and started dating a while after his divorce and his kids love you (more than their own mum who has been mistreating them esp. since she started dating some guy). Laura's bf is in some shady stuff and Diego gets kidnapped (or hurt) and when they find him, he screams for him mummy and daddy and Laura moves forward but he pushes past her and runs for reader & Antonio. TQ x
Note: this got away from me a little but I never liked Laura, not after the way she treated Sylvie, and I just really miss Antonio, so here you go!
“You can’t move it like that,” Diego told you, watching as you picked up your knight tentatively, glancing up at him before you played each move to see his reaction, usually he just laughed.
“Can’t I?” You replied, looking back at the board and the piece in your hand, hovering over the square you thought you could put it on. No matter how many times you played against Diego, you never even got close to winning.
“No, you definitely can’t,” he informed you with a smile, shifting in his seat so that he could lean over the chess board and take a better look at what you were doing.
“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, thinking, “well, what if I do this?” You moved your piece back to where it had been, moving it one space to the side and two up. He nodded and you grinned triumphantly, a look which only lasted a few seconds.
“I mean you can, but then I can do this,” he took your piece with ease and added it to his growing pile as you glanced back at the measly two pawns you’d managed to take from him, or, more accurately, that he had sacrificed. “See?” He made a show of it when he plucked the piece from the board and you heard Eva laughing behind you.
“Funny homework?” You asked, looking back to where she sat at the dining table, chewing her pen with books spread around her.
“Oh yeah, it’s my homework that I’m laughing at,” she joked, earning a small cushion tossed in her general direction. “Hey!” She yelled as it hit her shoulder, throwing it straight back as she laughed, “I’m just saying, how many games has it been now? I’d say quit while you’re ahead, but maybe you should quit before you’re too far behind?”
“Y/N’s already too far behind,” Diego added and you look between the two of them with fake shock and hurt.
“Antonio!” You called, putting on a whiny voice as you leaned back to look through the kitchen door at your boyfriend who was facing away from you tooking dinner, “Antonio your kids are bullying me!”
“Constructive critism!” Diego yelled back as his dad headed into the main room, wooden spoon in hand as he pointed it at the both of them.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he started and Diego and Eva tried to suppress their smiles, but instead of even pretending to come to your defense he said, “does she deserve it?” You blinked at him as the siblings burst out laughing and Antonio winked at you.
“Traitor,” you gasped, but soon all of you were laughing as Antonio told you dinner was about to be ready. You and Diego paused your game and you helped the kids set the table.
You and Antonio had been dating since soon after his divorce, but it had been a while before he introduced you properly to his children. Technically, you’d already met both of them, having been brought into Intelligence around the same time as Adam. After you’d started seeing each other you’d kept it on the down-low, and you’d never dreamed of pushing Antonio about it, he was going through a messy divorce and he had to put his kids first.
It was a rocky start, but when Antonio had found out that Laura had not only already introduced her new boyfriend to Eva and Diego, but had left them with him on multiple occasions, he didn’t see the point in keeping your relationship a secret anymore.
They’d warmed up to you pretty quickly, even if Laura never had, and setting the table with them now, as you did whenever you came over for dinner with them, you fell in sync like it’d always been that way. Previously, you’d have left after dinner, but you’d started spending the night with the kids around more and more, often going so far as to spend the weekend with them.
The kids were happy about, much to yours and Antonio’s delight, especially when you’d started making pancakes for them Saturday mornings, it’d become tradition. When Diego had first mentioned it to Laura, however, it hadn’t gone down well. Apparently, she didn’t like a woman she barely knew watching her kids, and she definitely didn’t like Antonio pointing out that her boyfriend, Todd, had been doing the same thing, and at least he’d introduced you to her first.
It had put a bit of a strain on your relationship for a while, you remembered as Antonio brought out dinner, but sat here now, you couldn’t have been more glad that you’d both decided to stick it out.
“It looks amazing,” you told him as he took his seat, the smell of rice and chicken in the air as you all filled up your plates.
“Yeah, thanks dad,” both children chorused their thanks as they tucked in, Diego bulldozing food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten all day. Eva rolled her eyes at her younger brother, but you just smiled, appreciating the normalcy of a family dinner like this, with the man you loved. You weren’t their mother, you knew that, but these kinds of nights made you realise just how much you loved them.
“Oh dad after this-” Diego started through a mouth full of food, stopping and swallowing it with a pointed look from Antonio, “sorry, but after this you should watch me finish beating Y/N at chess yet again.”
Antonio chuckled and you shook your head. “I’d love to, but don’t you have homework to finish first?” Diego shook his head, mouth full of food again.
“Finished it,” he said at last, Antonio glancing at you quickly to check if he was telling the truth, you gave him a slight nod. “Yeah we had less today because it’s the science fair on Monday,” he explained and Antonio did his best to hide the look on his face that showed he’d forgotten.
“Right of course, that came by quickly,” he said, “what time was that again?” Chances were, he’d be stuck on at work. You knew how much Antonio loved his job, but it was things like this that made him miss the steady hours of the State’s Attourney’s office.
“It’s okay, I know you have to work, mom and Todd said they could make it,” Diego tried to reassure him but you could tell he was disappointed.
“I’ll try,” Antonio promised anyway, most likely remembering the parent teacher night that Laura had brought Todd to without telling him, causing several of the teachers to think he was, in fact, Diego’s actual dad.
“Are you going to come Y/N?” Diego turned to you hopefully, “if you can, of course.” God you could never say no to that face, not that you’d want to right now, it warmed your heart that Diego was including you in this, that he actually wanted you there.
“I’ll try my best, wouldn’t want to miss it,” you replied, patting his shoulder as he smiled at you. Eva looked at you with a look of appreciation; no matter what she said, she was protective of her brother, and she’d been at the age where she actually knew what was going on throughout the divorce.
It had taken her much longer to warm up to you than her younger brother, mostly because of how attached to you he’d seemed to get, and she’d always worried you’d leave and hurt him, and her dad.
You finished the rest of dinner with relatively unimportant chatter, Eva explained her homework for the night and you offered to help her with it while Antonio asked for Diego’s help tidying up after dinner. You weren’t spending the entire weekend with them, you had to be back at your apartment for some maintenance work on Sunday, but you promised you’d still be making pancakes for them in the morning. Even though Eva protested that she was getting too grown up for funny shaped pancakes, that turned around very quickly when Antonio suggested she not eat them then.
The rest of the night went by happily, Diego beat you at chess, obviously, and by the time you’d helped Eva with her homework the kids had gone up to their respective rooms.
“I’m glad he wants you there,” Antonio said, unprompted as you snuggled up to him on the sofa to watch some mindless television before bed. You moved your head so that your chin was resting on his shoulder as you looked up at his face. He smiled as he looked back at you.
“Yeah?” You were too, but your mind had kept wandering to the fact that Laura was going to be there, obviously, she was his mother afterall, but you knew she wasn’t going to be happy to see you. It was Diego’s night, and you didn’t want to do anything to ruin it.
“Of course,” he replied, kissing you sweetly, “you’re family now if you hadn’t realised.” The way he was looking at you made you melt, so full of love as he put his arm around you, drawing you closer.
“I love you,” you told him, the only response you thought worthy of his statement.
“I love you too,” he kissed you on the head as you snuggled back into his side, how had you gotten so lucky?
-
Monday came by quickly, and mercifully you and Antonio had managed to head out early, having done all you could do on the case you were working until the morning. You were still going to be late to the fair, but Laura and Todd would already be there, and you knew Diego wouldn’t be disappointed, he’d just be glad you’d both managed to show.
While you knew you’d have to deal with Laura tonight, you hadn’t expected her to be waiting in the parking lot, practically marching over to the car before Antonio had even finished putting it into park. She made it to you just as you were climbing out the car, sharing a look of confusion with one another.
“Where is he?” She demanded, no greeting or politeness as she looked in the car and then back at Antonio.
“Who?” Antonio asked, just as confused as you were.
“What do you mean who? Diego, your son,” Laura snapped, clearly exasperated, concern covering her face.
“He’s supposed to be inside,” you told her, earning a deadly glare as she focused her attention back on Antonio, clearly not wanting you to have any input in this.
“Well he isn’t,” she replied. What did she mean? You were both late, and he had volunteered to set up before the parents arrived so he never should have even left the school.
“Okay, Laura, you need to take a breath and explain what the hell is going on,” Antonio said, his calm starting to slip, “why would we know where Diego is? We came straight from the district and as far as we knew, Diego was supposed to be inside.”
Laura swallowed hard, concern turning to fear, but she didn’t reply. You headed around to the other side of the car. “Laura,” you said with force, putting a hand on her shoulder to try and snap her out of it, “from the beginning.”
Antonio ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath as Laura explained what she knew. “I got here a little late, about five minutes, but when I got in his stall hadn’t been set up, I asked the teachers and they told me that his dad had picked him up straight after school and he hadn’t come back.”
“What? Laura I swear that wasn’t me, I’ve been at the district all day,” Antonio swore, looking back to the entrance of the school. You reached into the inside coat pocket of your jacket for your badge, having a dreadful feeling you were going to need it before too long.
“Then who took him?!” Laura practically yelled, earning looks from the other parents as they headed in to the fair. “Not again...” she mumbled as Antonio checked his phone for any missed calls, you and Laura doing the same before you headed inside.
Laura pointed you both in the direction of the teacher she had spoken with. “Mr Wright,” Antonio got his attention, pulling out his badge when he tried to tell him that he was busy talking to other parents at the minute.
“Is everything okay?” The man asked, excusing himself from the conversation. He was a bit of a younger teacher, you remembered Diego telling you that it was his first year, the old physics teacher retiring before Summer.
“Antonio Dawson,” he introduced himself quickly, “I’m looking for my son,” he told him, Wright looking to you before his eyes went to Laura, apparently clocking something as he looked back at Antonio.
“Your son?” He questioned and Antonio nodded. “No, no, Diego?”
“Yes, Diego, Diego Dawson,” Antonio said impatiently and the teacher, at least, looked equal parts confused and guilty.
“But his father picked him up,” Mr Wright tried, “I mean- he said he was his father.”
“And you took his word for it?” Laura demanded and Mr Wright looked to her puzzled.
“Well, yes, I mean I’d seen him with Diego before, and you Ms. Dawson, he came to the parents evening just last month, I had no reason to...” he trailed off, clearly apologetic as Antonio practically whirled on Laura.
“Todd?” You had to put your hand on his arm, reminding him that you were in a very public place and you were already drawing attention to yourselves.
“Why would he?-” She wondered, “that doesn’t make any sense, Todd wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be here tonight?” You realised, cutting in to what was clearly about to turn into a heated argument, Antonio already getting angry, and rightfully so, at the whole situation.
“Yeah, he said something came up so he couldn’t make it,” Laura said finally, “but he wouldn’t do anything to Diego,” you knew she was saying that more to herself than anyone else as you let Mr. Wright get back to the fair.
“’Something’? What is ‘something’ Laura?” Antonio demanded, getting his phone out to try and call Diego, but it told him that the line was disconnected.
“I don’t- I don’t know, he didn’t say!” She fumbled, trying to call Todd too.
Both their phones had been disconnected.
“This can’t have been him, whatever this is,” she tried to reason but neither you or Antonio looked a little convinced.
“Then how do you explain all of this?” He snapped back, barging past her towards the entrace, you hot on his heels as you dialed the only number that could help you now, Hank Voight’s.
Laura followed quickly, still trying to wrap her head around the whole situation as Antonio made her get into the back of the car. Laura tried Eva, but she didn’t pick up, so you decided to head back to the house, where she was supposed to be studying.
“Hey Serg, yeah we have a situation,” you filled him in on what had just happened as Antonio peeled out of the car park, barely acknowledging Laura as he drove, anger and worry making him grip the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.
Voight said he’d call the rest of the team as you put it on speaker, and you’d all meet at Antonio’s ASAP, this had become top priority now.
Kim and Adam had arrived first, Eva had been plugged into her laptop and missed the call, but she was okay. Antonio breathed a sigh of relief as he ran up the steps to meet his daughter at the door. The tears she had clearly tried to clear from her face told you she’d been at least partially filled in as the rest of Intelligence arrived.
“Everyone, gather around,” Voight called everyone into the living room as you took Antonio’s hand, giving it a squeeze for support as Voight continued, “Diego Dawson is our priority right now, we need to find him, so far all we know is Todd Richards, Laura’s boyfriend, was seen taking him out of school at around 4 claiming to be his father, so, where would he take Diego?”
“Wait, Todd did this?” Eva interrupted, listening from the other room as she walking.
“We think so,” Antonio told her honestly, “but we’re going to find him sweetie,” Laura went to comfort her daughter but Eva pulled back, barely even looking at her as she leans into Antonio. Laura turns to where they are stood, clearly hurt but not entirely surprised, still looking guilt about the fact that her boyfriend was most likely responsible.
Antonio hugged his daughter as you filled the rest of the unit in about what you knew about Todd, which wasn’t much honestly. “Okay, well what does Todd do for a living? Who are his friends?” Jay asked, mostly looking to Antonio and Laura.
“Er, construction, he runs a construction company, his friends are mostly his workers,” Laura informed you all.
“He working on anything at the moment?” Kev asked and Laura shrugged a little.
“Sort of,” she replied vaguely.
“What does that mean?” Antonio asked, sending a reluctant Eva out the room with a uniform while you all worked.
“He had a project in the works, but something was up with it, I think an investor pulled out, that might have been where he was supposed to be today,” Laura explained the best she could.
“So he didn’t have enough money? Or any?” You guessed as a map was passed to the unit so Laura could point out the spot.
“They were going under,” she admitted, pulling at a thread of her shirt subconsciously. If they were going under... they’d need money.
“Random?” Hailey guessed, saying what you were all thinking.
“But why? Why take my son?” Laura sounded so lost, but you knew why, and it had nothing to do with her. No doubt she’d told Todd all about her divorce, Antonio, the unit, he must have seen an opportunity to make real cash, but it was hardly very premeditated.
“Look, this was all quick, and so far seems pretty unplanned to me, so he won’t be at some unknown location, he’ll do somewhere familiar, somewhere he feels safe,” you voiced your theory as you stared at the map.
“If construction was halted he’s probably holed up there, it’s his home ground, he’ll be comfortable there and his crew are probably in on it too,” Vanessa continued as Laura sobbed.
Antonio was trying to hold it together Diego, and Eva, but you could tell this who situation was getting to be too much, Diego being snatched by Pulpo was bad enough, but by someone who was supposed to be trustworthy? You didn’t know what he would do to Todd when you found him, so you were going to make sure you were by his side, just in case.
“Well, whatever he was thinking it wasn’t smart, he hasn’t called to make demands yet and he had to know that cops look out for their own, taking a detective’s son is a deadly game,” Voight said.
“He’s desperate,” Antonio added, “might even be hesitating now he’s actually past the point of no return, wondering what’s going to happen to him if he makes that call.” Nothing good, that much you knew.
“So we head to the site, stake it out, if he’s there, we move in carefully, grab Diego, he’s not going to want to hurt him, he’s his only security in this situation,” Voight decided and Laura pointed with a shaky finger to the spot on the map where the construction site was.
Hailey got a quick call from the district, confirming that both Todd and Diego’s phones had last pinged within a mile or so of that location, it had to be where they were.
Laura tried to apologise as you all suited up to leave but Antonio didn’t want to hear it right now, they could talk about Todd when their son was safe. You’d been pretty new to the unit when Diego had been taken by Pulpo, but you remembered the grief Laura had given him about it around the divorce, knew how Antonio had blamed himself. Diego had to be okay, you thought, strapping on your vest and double checking your gun, he had to be.
-
You didn’t say much to Antonio during the drive, but you kept your hand in his all the way, reminding him that you were there with him no matter what. Laura and Eva had insisted on coming, so they’d been positioned with some uniforms outside the perimeter what was now being set up.
“Ready?” Voight asked, more to Antonio and even you than anyone else. You were trying to be as there for Antonio as you could be, and that meant staying calm and steady, but damn it if you weren’t scared for Diego, you loved that kid, you loved the family you were making with them, and you were terrified that something might go wrong.
“Le’ts get my son back,” Antonio addressed the unit, you were more than ready to risk their lives for one of their own, as were you, as you double checked your weapon yet again.
Before long you were moving stealthily into positions along the site, keeping your eyes out for movement, careful not to attract attention to yourselves. You ad Antonio stopped by a window, carefully looking in to assess the situation, signaling to the others when you spotted movement inside. Heat sensors put about 5 men in this building, the offices for the site it seemed, and one of the figures was definitely smaller than the others, Diego.
Hank positioned himself with you and Antonio by the main door, Diego looked to be in the back, but the order was still as few bullets as possible. Hailey and Jay had taken the back entrace and the others were ready to get anyone who managed to get away, but the look on Antonio’s face told you that that wouldn’t be a problem.
Voight signaled a three second countdown on his fingers as you gripped your gun tighter, your heart thumping in your ears as you tried to steady your breathing. Nothing could go wrong.
Antonio was more than happy to kick the door in when Voight got down to zero, “hit it,” he told the others over comms, and you were in. They’d got speedy approval from a judge before the op, but extenuating circumstances would have to be a good enough explanation as the door came off the hinges in splinters. Either the door wasn’t very strong, Antonio was very angry, or a little of both.
Needless to say, the men, who had clearly not thought this all the way through, were startled by your sudden entrace, most dropping any weapons they had pretty quickly when they saw your guns and badges. They tried to run, but quickly saw this wasn’t a fight they were going to win.
Todd tried to keep his gun up the longest, and honestly you thought that Antonio was hoping he’d do as much. Antonio disarmed the panicking man with ease, knocking him onto the ground and jamming his gun in his face.
“You thought you could take my kid!” He yelled, practically spitting on the man in anger. You took a step forward to stop him but Voight grabbed your arm lightly, stopping you. But you the second hit into his face with the back of Antonio’s gun, you were shoving past Voight and grabbing your boyfriend.
When Antonio tried to resist you said into his ear: “Diego’s here, he’s all that matters, don’t let him see you like this,” you pulled his gun from his hand carefully and he let you, standing up as Jay and Hailey cuffed Todd and the others.
You and Antonio ran to the back room as Voight was signalling an all clear. Pulling open the door you saw Diego sat on the floor, hands, feet and mouth covered in ducktape. Carefully, Antonio freed his son, who immediately rushed into his arms, shaking as his tears wet his father’s shoulder.
“Oh my boy, oh I got you, I’m so sorry, you’re okay,” Antonio soothed as you breathed a sigh of relief, not realising how tense you yourself had been at the situation.
“We got him,” you said into your comms, not being able to take your eyes off father and son being reunited. You headed back to drag out the perps as Antonio lifted Diego still in his arms, and carried him outside.
“Diego!” Eva and Laura were already running to him, Laura not even acknowledging Todd as she ran to her son. Antonio puts Diego down so he can see his family as you hauled the last of the kidnappers into squad cars.
Just as you shut the door you felt something slam into your back, nearly toppling over as you turned to see Diego wrapping his arms around you. You bent down so that you were at his level, glancing back to see a shocked looking Laura, arms still out slightly to catch him as he’d run past her to you.
Pulling Diego into a hug he let out a sob, Antonio and Eva heading over to where you both were. “You’re okay, I got you,” you whispered to him, trying not to look at Laura as you did. You felt a little guilty, sure, but he’d come to you, and you weren’t about to send him away, not when you loved him this much.
“Hey,” Antonio ruffled Diego’s hair as you stood up, wiping his tears with your thumb.
The four of you together, after the day you’d just had, made you start to well up a little as you blinked away tears, glad everyone was back together.
“Can we go home?” Diego asked and Antonio agreed, “you’re coming too right?”
“Always,” you told him, putting your arm around Eva as you took Antonio’s hand. Antonio put his hand on Diego’s shoulder, keeping him close as he led you all back to the car.
“Let’s go home,” Antonio agreed and despite all the time you’d spend at that house, for the first time, it really was your home, your family.
#antonio dawson#chicago pd#one chicago#antonio dawson imagine#chicago pd imagine#antonio dawson imagines#chicago pd imagines#antonio dawson one shot#chicago pd one shot#one chicago imagine#one chicago imagines#one chicago one shot#one shot
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Easier Than Speaking
I just want to say that this only popped into my head because I saw @16fandomlover’s post about this. I’m the type of person to where if an idea is had then my brain will just start writing on it’s own and then I can never get it out of my head until it is written down. So without further ado, here it is!
Julie sat on her bed, criss-cross, using her binder as a hard surface to write on as she did her homework. Her dad was very clear about the whole “school-first” rule when it came to being in her own band, which was understandable. She was only in high school and she did miss the first three hours of school the night of the dance when the boys... well... ghosted her.
Once finishing her homework she could down to the garage and either hang with the guys or rehearse with them depending on if they had a gig to practice for or not. If Alex and Reggie weren’t in the studio and they didn’t have to rehearse for a gig that would be prime time for her and Luke to write together.
As she wrote the answer to the latest math problem on her paper, her phone light up besides her. A message from Flynn. She took a small moment away from her work to text back her best friend. Flynn had asked about what she saw Nick and her talk about earlier. Julie texted back and informed her of what happened about how he had asked her out but she politely declined. She saw the ‘Delivered’ message turn to ‘Read’ immediately upon sending. The light gray 3 dots appeared for a second then disappeared. She set her phone back down next to her expecting to get a reply later. When she sent it down she saw one of the guys poof to the foot of her bed from her peripheral vision.
“Oh you’re home.”
She looked up seeing it was Luke. “What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to see if you were home yet so we could write.”
“Well I am but school first.” She guestured to her homework. “Unless you want to help me with givens and proves then you can stay but until then you can wait.” She didn’t expect to get an answer.
“Givens and proves? Ugh, that’s-” the words seemed to trigger a memory for him. “Those are so annoying. If you want math help go to Alex.”
“Really?” The guy’s lives before meeting her never really came up.
Sure, she was curious but there was probably a reason for it not coming up that often. Unless it came up in conversation she knew not to press for information. She knew to keep her boundaries (unlike some people).
“Yeah and if you need science help go to Reggie, even though he says he’s not that good, he was always better at it than Alex and I ever were.”
“What about you?”
“I was always decent at English.”
She nodded in agreement. “That makes sense.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well with how you write your songs and how they turn out I can see how that could translate into an English class.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “sometimes writing is easier than speaking.”
“Speaking of writing, you can try to write something with one of the guys.” She suggested instead of him just having to wait for her.
He shook his head. “Reggie mainly wants to write country songs.”
“...Is that a bad thing?”
“What is with you two and country songs?!”
“Just give Home Is Where My Horse Is a chance.”
“He showed you it didn’t he?! I thought you would be strong.”
“Come on! Riding through trees by the river, Feel the summer breeze smile gettin’ bigger. Those are some killer lyrics.”
“It’s not even-“ he decided to let it go. “Oh! Speaking of lyrics,” he pulled something from his pocket, “I was meaning to ask you-”
She saw him unfold the paper that was folded into fourths. Her eyes went wide as she realized the writing. The handwriting on the back side of the paper was readable (so not Luke’s) and was scribbled and rushed. As if it was written in a hurry to get it out of a mind.
“Where’d you find that?” She asked hurried.
“It was on the piano.” He responded. “Was it a quick little song inspiration before school?”
“Uhh... yeah. Song... inspriation.” She agreed.
“These lyrics are-”
The anticipation for his next word worried her. Did he figure it out? He probably did. The song was very obviously about him.
“-killer.”
Oh ok, that was fine. That didn’t entirely mean that he figured it out.
Just then Julie turned her attention to her left where she heard someone poof in.
“See I told you he would be here!” Reggie told Alex next to him.
“I knew he would be but she told us to stay out of her room.” He answered.
“At least one of you understands boundaries.” She said to herself.
“What are you two doing here?” Luke looked up to see the pair.
“Seeing if you were here and not to bug Julie because she has school first to do.” Alex replied.
“Yeah I do! That’s right! I should probably finish and if I could also have that song back too,” she grabbed it from his hands, “I accidentally left it out at the piano it’s not even that... good.” She folded it back into fourths and put it on her nightstand for the time being.
“Not that good? Seriously!? What are you talking about?”
She hoped he would stop mentioning it. It made her anxious that at any point he would figure it out.
“Whoever that’s about is so lucky! If it is about anyone.”
“If?” Alex still couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized. “Really you still-” Julie gave him a glare that could rival the one of when they intruded on the family dinner the first night they’d met. “Yeah,” he immediately switched topics, “who ever that song is about is really lucky.” He ended up agreeing with Luke.
“We’re heaven on earth, melody and words” he began to sing, “Those are rad! That’s exactly why you’re a star!” She could see the look in his eyes whenever he talked about music. The fire and the passion. Also the way he lit up when he talked about her. It was one of the qualities she’d learned about him.
“...like a bright and burning one.” Reggie said under his breath which in response Julie gave the same glare she gave to Alex. Meanwhile, Luke asked what he said because he didn’t catch it.
“Uhh...” Julie giving him the death glare did not help as he thought of a response to tell him, “like always! Julie’s always a star like you always say! Yeah, always.” He looked to Julie to see if he did good and she let out a small sigh of relief.
“Always.” He gave his Luke smile to her. He finally moved away from her bed to the boys who had poofed by her closet.
As he walked over to them the front door being opened was heard and then running up the stairs which turned Julie’s attention toward her open bedroom door. Within seconds she saw Flynn rush into her room, passing right through Luke, about to start one of her rants to her.
“Woah... that is weird.” He looked to Reggie in response to being walked through. It wasn’t like last time when Julie and him were in the kitchen and she walked through him with her sandwich ingredients. It was sudden and quick.
“Right!”
“She’s determinated.” He could feel.
Flynn took a seat on Julie’s bed with her. She began going on about school as well as about band stuff to her friend, meanwhile the boys were still in her room overhearing the conversation. Considering she was talking about some stuff referring to the band maybe she would mention some other things too and it was easier staying instead of having Julie bring it up to them later.
“Speaking of that,” Flynn continued on about what she was talking about as her friend just sat and listened, “onto the other, well MAIN reason I came. Please tell me you did not decline a date with an actual person, and the actual person being Nick of all people, because of the whole Luke thing.”
Julie’s eyes went wide. “Flynn...” she said worried hoping she would hear and get the memo to stop talking.
“Luke thing?” The one who’s name was mentioned raised an eyebrow at.
“You’ve waited for it to happened for how long? Only to decline him for what? Some air-”
“Air?” The statement offended him. He turned to his friends next to him. “Am I just air?”
“Well on the techinal side-” Alex bumped Reggie in the arm alerting him to look at Julie to show him that this was not the time for their antics. She had a flustered expression as she just wanted her friend to stop talking but was not getting the memo just going on and on.
“-oh no sorry “cute air” to quote you-”
“...Flynn.” She pleaded starting to put her head in her knees.
“-like I said Luke is next level to crush on. I mean you have liked Nick for how long? And then he gets up staged by this random ghost guy. I mean don’t get me wrong they brought music back into your life and that’s amazing but to decline Nick over some dead guy. Although I get that you two clicked but you could have also had that with Nick, but I mean it has been awhile. If he asked you before class the other day, when the whole time instead of dancing with Nick you were imaging Luke, would you have said yes then? He really just has bad timing all the time now doesn’t he?”
Julie sat with her head in her knees wanting to curl into a ball from... well... a lot of things.
“Jules?” She asked. “What’s- ...the guys are here aren’t they?”
Still with her head in her knees she nodded.
“...all of them?”
She nodded once again.
She hoped it wasn’t as bad as what she thought. “...Including-”
“What else does all of them mean?” She picked her head up to look at her, trying to disregard the ghosts she saw from the corner of her eye. “There’s only 3!”
“...you know...” she sat up from the bed backing up towards the door, “I think I hear your dad calling...” when she backed up against the wall close to the door she turned around, went out the room and rounded the corner going down the staircase.
As much as she didn’t want to, there was nothing else to do but look to the boys. Alex and Reggie gave the same look of uneasiness. Meanwhile Luke was, well, stunned to say the least.
“...it’s not so bad.” Alex tried to help.
The response in the form of a look told him otherwise.
“Reg, something tells me we overstayed our welcome.”
“...yeah... hey maybe you could hang with Ray and-” Alex poofed away before Reggie could finish. “Guess it’ll just be me and Ray then.” He concluded before poofing away himself leaving the... interesting pair alone.
“...cute air?” Luke finally found the words to say.
Julie groaned as her head went to the ceiling and her body fell into the pillows behind her.
“You know that song makes a lot more sense now.”
“Yeah...” she sighed, “it does. Sometimes writing is easier than talking.”
She felt the end of her bed go down. She picked herself up to see that he had taken a seat at the edge.
“...it’s still a pretty rad song.” He kept his space from her guessing her emoions. “Reggie and Alex seemed to put it together pretty quickly.”
“I don’t get how you didn’t.”
“My guess was it was about that Nick guy.”
“I wish.” She then realized how bad that sounded. “That’s not what I-”
“It’s fine I know what you meant. Falling for some ghost probably isn’t on your bucket list.”
“Well it wasn’t but then you guys showed up.”
“Well do be fair you did call us cute.”
“You also thought I was a witch.” She brought up.
“There were chairs on the ceiling. What else is the logical explanation?”
“Maybe tying them there for storage.”
“Reggie had a very convincing arugment.”
“Argum-” she paused, “it’s Reggie! What arugment?”
“Alex said that witches don’t exist then Reggie said how they say ghosts don’t exist but here we are now.” He gestured to himself.
They shared a laughed together. This was nice. Not having any tension in the air. No akwardness. Just Julie and Luke being... Julie and Luke.
#jatp#julie and the phantoms#jatp netflix#luke jatp#jatp luke#jatp reggie#alex jatp#jatp alex#reggie jatp#netflix shows#thephantomsandjulie#oneshot#jatp one shot#jatp fanfic#jatp fic#reggie and julie#julie and reggie#luke and julie#julie and luke#jatp juke#juke jatp#juke#reggie and alex#jatp flynn#jatp perfect harmony#jatp julie#luke patterson#julie molina#reggie peters#alex mercer
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M&M’s
Summary: Need a tutor? Well, you’ve come to the right school, we have just the one for you. And he’s attractive too.
Do or Not Series
Fluff
Word Count: 2,346
Hongseok X Reader
Of all my time at school, I never thought I would need tutoring. I was an A+ student when I started failing my classes. My grades were in the trash, and I had no idea how to improve or even raise them. How do you even study? Why is college structured like this? UGH! So now here I am sitting in the Dean’s office listening to them preach about how I need to learn from this person to pass. That they won’t hold it against me if I pass because of this tutor. All I have to do is pass the exams, and if I pass. I will move up to the Sophomore year. How am I supposed to pass a class that I’m not participating? And who is this person they are setting me up with? As if to answer my question, they say, “He should be here any moment.”
Like on queue, the door opens to reveal a rather attractive guy. They expect me to be able to study next to him? Oh god, I am so screwed, even worse than I was before. Okay, (Y/n), put your game face on and act like he does not affect you. “This is your tutor, Hongseok, and Hongseok this is (Y/n). I think you two will do well together.” We exchange a polite ‘hello’. Then the Dean tells him what the expectations are for the both of us. And I cannot help but feel my anxiety spike at each time he mentions ‘study’, ‘quiz’, and ‘pass’. What happened to cruising through school? Why is it no longer easy to pass? What did I miss when I was younger?
I was missing the old school structure. That I was memorizing what they said to forget it later. Because back then, as long as I knew the basics, I could pass. It wasn't like those classes were hard either. They repeated the same things over and over. So it was easy to remember, Hongseok had explained to me at our first meeting in the library. He wanted to know why I was failing and what made me remember best. I shrugged and said, 'probably repetition and listening' I wasn't sure, but that was the best guess I had. I never thought of ways to study because I never needed to beforehand. He grinned, “I know you wouldn’t believe it, but my first year here, I didn’t study. I didn’t know how or what worked for me or how I even learned. It took me to the last semester to realize what it was. Once it clicked, it was too late, and I barely passed my exams. To make up for me failing everything else, they asked me to tutor someone.” While I couldn’t believe my ears, something in my gut told me he wasn’t lying. Thus I decided that he was my best bet to make it into my sophomore year.
The following Wednesday, we are stuck inside the library again. When we get settled in our seats, he pulls out two packages of m&m’s. “What are those for?” I ask, and he shrugs and says, “You’ll see.” I pull out my books, a pencil, and a notebook. I’m worried he will look down on me for not having any past homework or past tests. But I threw them all out in exhaustion and frustration. I couldn’t deal with that massive amount of failure. But rather than saying anything, he pulls out some flashcards and a calculator. “Let’s start with math.”
Every time I got a question right, he gave me an m&m. My stomach growled at me every time I would get something wrong and lose out on an m&m. Not that I couldn’t reach in and get one, but the m&m's are rewards for whenever I get something right. Plus, he would give me his charming smile every time I got something correct, so I strived to get them correct.
It wasn’t until we finished math and science and we were walking out together. That I noticed, he was catering to the way I learned. Repeating steps with me or asking me the questions out loud and going through the steps with me. Whether it be an example or how to fix my mistakes, my heart skips a beat as he asks to walk me home.
"So, do you like university other than this?" I shrug, "It could be better, but generally I like it. Everyone I met is kind, like my roommates Changgu and Yanan. Like you're kind and sweet, I wanna thank you for helping me out." He grins, "You're helping me out too. I don't think either of us wishes to repeat Freshman year." I laugh and agree, "What about you? Do you like it here?" He shrugs, "It's okay. I don't have a roommate, but I have quite a few friends. So it helps, plus once you know how to study, it makes it so much easier." I laugh, "Yeah,... if I ever get to that point." When we reach my dormitory I tell him, "This is my stop." As I head inside, he yells, “I’ll see you this Sunday for History and [Subject].” I yell back my agreement and walk up the stairs to my room. I thought this would drag and not want to show up. But he makes me look forward to studying with him. Throwing my finished m&m bag away, I walk to my dorm with a proud smile on my face.
Like clockwork every Wednesday and Sunday, I spend the whole afternoon studying. And he would ask me to study for little quizzes that he would give me on Thursdays. They are over everything we have ever been over together. With each test I passed, my confidence grew, and so did my feelings.
Out of all the days that I spend with him, Thursdays have to be the hardest. With each test, I take the harder they become. I feel like my soul almost leaves my body every time he grades them. How his face turns up in cute ways, trying to figure out my process. Or when I get something right, he sends me a beautiful smile or his pout when I miss a question. His faces make my heart flutter while my stomach wants to throw up from fear of failure. Between the two, I can never seem to stomach Thursdays.
While I have learned my study pattern, I still have to pass this course with him or I fail. While I’m taking a quiz, three Thursdays before my exam, he tells me. “I can already tell you that you are going to succeed with flying colors. So if you fail this quiz, take it with a grain of salt. You have to fail sometimes to succeed.” The first page was easy I knew all the answers without a problem. I rushed through them, and the next page was a little harder. When I got to the eighth page, I was starting to question whether I was studying. What does the eighth number of pi have anything to do with this course? I wish to cry as I take my best guess, which is all I can do when I reach the tenth page. I sigh in relief, it’s the last page it can’t be that hard, can it? Oh, yes, yes it can. “If you take the 4th number of the last answer. [Which I am positive I did not get right, considering that I only gave a two-digit answer to the last question]. Exponentially expand it by twenty-two. What is the number you get?” And that is the first part of the ten parted question. My brain craves a nap and a family-size bag of m&m’s.
By the time I finish the last page, I am running on one brain cell. That is running around, throwing all the files in my brain into a shredder, and giving up. How did I not know a single answer after the third page? His face is in a pout after the second page, and my heart breaks. I don’t want him to disappoint him. I should study harder to make him proud of me. I groan internally, this is going worse than I expected. “Out of thirty questions, you got seven right!” He says in a cheery tone, and my heart falls out of my body, and my soul has ascended.
“Remember what I said when you started taking the test?” I rack my brain for answers and find nothing. I shake my head 'no', and he pouts, “Aw,... Well, I said take it with a grain of salt. Maybe some quizzes are made impossible.” My jaw drops, “You did that on purpose--!” He shrugs, “Did I?” He makes me rethink what I said, and I pout and cross my arms over my chest. He hands me a pack of m&m’s, “Maybe study harder.” He winks, and I push him to the side when we get up to leave the building. “You know you passed the hardest question on the quiz, right?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “What?” He grins, “None of your work made sense, but in the end, you answered four on the last question, and that was the right answer.” I smile, “Sometimes taking your best guess works. Also, four happens to be the professor's favorite number, so if you aren’t sure, guess that.” My jaw drops open again as he ruffles my hair, “You did pretty well, (Y/n).” I brighten at his words and hug him. “I promise to study hard! Two more quizzes before the final test!” He laughs and hugs me back telling me, “You got this!”
--
It wasn’t until the last study session that I realized how much I would miss Hongseok’s presence. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and when I got to my room, I was bawling. I wanted to see him more. I wanted to be around him and get to know him more. It took me a few moments, but I realized I fell for my tutor. How could I not? When I had a tutor like Hongseok,... Based on all calculations, I have a crush on him. I wonder if he likes me back, but there is only one way to know. Do I have enough courage for that? I’m not sure. I sigh and wipe my tears, saving them for a less important day. I need to study and pass these four exams.
--
I spend hours studying for tomorrow, although I know my study method. It did not make studying any less boring. I missed Hongseok, who would crack a joke or grab us a snack. He made this so much easier studying five hours with him felt like two. Ugh, now five hours of studying feels like fifteen. At the sixth hour, I call it a day and pull the covers over my head, and dream of failing the exams.
When my alarm clock finally rings, I’m happy to be up and away from those horrid dreams. With a brave face, I get ready for my exam day. I check my phone and see it’s Hongseok. He texted me, “Good luck on your exams! Fighting! You got this!” I smile and text him back, ‘thank you'. I got this, I keep reiterating to myself, but I can’t help but hear the doubtful voice in the back of my head. I am taking all my exams in one instance. So that means five hours of taking four different tests. While I know all the study sessions were preparing me for this moment, I want it to be over and done with already.
--
Of course, none of the tests were easy they each pulled at my wit's end. I sit there for another thirty minutes waiting for them to grade my tests. Preparing myself for the worst news, I think about Hongseok’s encouragement. If he thinks I’ll pass, maybe he’s right. If it wasn’t just my grades on the line, I wouldn’t care as much. But when it comes to Hongseok, my heart is grasping at the hope that I made it above passing.
The professor looks up at me as I turn a page in my book. I set it down with a bookmark. They smile at me, “Your lowest is an 87,” I gulp, no way, “Your highest is a 99.” My brain is no longer processing words as I rush out of my seat to see my results. “Congratulations, (Y/n). You passed with flying colors.” I smile and shake their hand, thanking them, and skip out of the building. I passed. I really passed! Is this real? I'm not dreaming again, right? I pinch myself and let out a small ‘ouch’ definitely real. I skip out of the building and see someone wearing a blue sweatshirt sitting on the fountain. As I come up closer, I recognize them as Hongseok. I run up to him and hug him. He whispers, “Did you pass?” And I shake my head 'yes'. He runs his hands through my hair, “I knew you would! I’m so proud of you.” Hearing him say that my heart pounds, “Um, Hongseok,...” I pull away from him a bit, my arms still wrapped around him. He nods for me to continue, “Would you maybe,... possibly want to go on a date with me?” He smiles, “I was gonna ask you that!” We both laugh as he hands me a family-size pack of m&m's for us to share. We head over to my dorm, and that is the start of our new beginning.
While we still study together, you can find us lying on the floor while watching the tv and throwing m&m's at each other. Making different kinds of foods together, making an even bigger mess in the kitchen. So yeah, if given the opportunity, I would fail my classes all over again. If it meant I got to meet Hongseok.
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