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#pros they were gay cons they were gay
itsanidiom · 1 year
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(^ u ^;) 
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bbydoll18xx · 22 days
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I'll Be Your Temporary Fix
Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader
Based on this request: 
'Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).'
Word Count: 2.3k
I absolutely loved this request! There will be a second part posted in a few days.
Thanks for reading!
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You look up from your camera as the sounds of an argument cut through the bouncing of basketballs and squeaking of sneakers against the floor of the gym. 
Azzi and Paige are at it again.
This was not the first time you had seen them sniping at each other this past week, and sure it was concerning. They were best friends. 
What could possibly be the issue?
Being the head of the media team for the women’s basketball team at UConn meant you had formed some very close friendships with the girls. Today, you were attempting to finish filming shots of this week's practices to post on Instagram. The new season was soon beginning, and it was crucial that the rest of the world was able to see what you saw in these girls. However, that was proving to be a challenge with the incessant bickering coming from Paige and Azzi.
“C’monnn, just please go ask her,” Azzi whines loudly, looking over in your direction. You frown, confused as to why their arguing would have anything to do with you. 
“I can’t just ask her to do that. She’s too nice, and you know it’ll make her feel all weirded out!” Paige retorts, equally as loud.
They really were not subtle.
As practice ends, you put away your equipment, feeling Paige’s eyes on you. Looking up, you see Azzi retreating back in the direction of the locker room, with Paige slowly sauntering towards you looking nervous. 
That was odd. Paige never really looks nervous. She was smug as hell, pretty much always. It was something you envied and admired.
“Good job today, P,” you say as she comes to stand in front of you, eliciting a broad grin that caused your belly to do several happy flips.
“Thanks, gotta have someone to show off for,” she responds with a wink and laugh. She continues after a beat, “Listen, I have a weird request and feel free to say no, but I kinda promised Azzi I would ask.”
You nod for her to continue, wondering what the blonde could possibly need from you.
“The fans are kinda obsessed with the idea that me and Azzi are in a relationship, and Azzi is super uncomfortable with it. She has a bit of a crush on one of the guys on the men’s team, and even he thinks we’re together.”
Your eyebrows furrow at the information, trying to process what she was saying. 
“Okay…so how do I fit into all this?” you ask puzzledly.
Paige bites her bottom lip apprehensively, “well we thought maybe if the fans saw me with someone else, they’d forget about ‘Pazzi’.”
You look at her blankly. “Wait, me?” you ask. “You want to pretend to date me?”
“Only if you want to. We just thought it’d be a good idea. The fans love you, you’re actually gay, and you’re not exactly bad looking,” Paige mutters the last bit, causing you to turn a bright shade of pink. 
This was certainly not a good idea. It was a terrible one.
You had harbored secret feelings for Paige since showing up day one with your camera and a head full of ideas. 
Pretending to date Paige Bueckers was a surefire way to fall head over heels, and that was something you had spent a generous amount of time trying to avoid. 
You sigh, going over the pros and cons in your head.
“Pleaseee,” Paige pouts, drawing out the syllables dramatically. “Ya know, you kinda owe me. I did introduce you to Steph Curry that one time…”
Your eyes narrow at that. She really decided to pull that card. “Fine,” you clip, in a way that was more hesitant than you actually felt. 
Paige throws herself against you in a joyous hug, whooping loudly in your ear. You giggle at her antics.
“Thank you so, so much. I promise Imma be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had! Why don’t you come over tonight, and we can start planning,” she smirks excitedly.
You agree and go your separate ways, your stomach already rolling at the idea of doing anything romantic with the tall blonde. 
Later, you walk towards the door to Paige’s apartment feeling thoroughly fucked. You had gone over every scenario in your head just about a million times since your conversation earlier. Your pessimistic disposition could not see this ending well. 
The noise levels were alarming, and as you peered your head around the corner of the door, you saw multiple girls from the team lounging on Paige’s couch. They whoop as you make your presence known, feeling grateful for a buffer. Sure, you loved being alone with Paige, but the idea of having to feign intimacy was so foreign. You weren't sure if you were capable of that.
“She’s here, P,” Azzi shouts towards Paige’s bedroom door, causing her to quickly emerge with a shy smile. 
“I hope you don't mind, but I figured we could go live with the girls tonight and get these rumors rolling,” Paige explains to you. 
“Course not,” you respond breezily, wanting to keep up an air of indifference. You secretly hoped everyone else thought you were chill and not at all dying at the thought of people thinking you and Paige were together.
Azzi gets up from her spot to stand next to you. “Thank you so much for doing this. It’s not going to bother you, is it? People talking about you?” She has the eyes of a puppy dog, and you immediately feel better agreeing to the scheme.
“Nah, nothing really bothers me,” you shrug noncommittally. ‘Except having to fake intimacy with the person I want most,’ you add in your head bitterly.
Considering it was Ice who was live the last time shit had gone down with Paige and Azzi, everyone thought it would be hilarious for her to do it once more. It was so fitting.
KK, Ice, and Azzi were sitting on the couch in the living room of the apartment, leaving you and Paige the small armchair in the corner. It felt like something out of a cheesy movie. The girls giggle as you realize that you both cannot comfortably sit side by side in the chair, your cheeks aflame once more as you put the pieces together in your head. Paige takes a seat first, basically manspreading, as she does, before patting her lap tantalizingly. 
Shit. 
Before you can protest, Paige is grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit down on your lap. Her muscular arms circle your waist in a way that has your pulse racing instantaneously. Despite her skinny build, she is so fucking comfortable, and she pulls you towards her chest, encouraging you to melt into her body. This had to look natural to work.
Satisfied with your positions, Paige gives Ice the green light to start the live with a nod. 
“Hey y’all, what’s everyone up to?” Ice begins, giving you and Paige a sly nod. You struggle to hold back a snort at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into. 
KK, Azzi, and Ice take turns answering questions, showing off the tiktok dances they’ve been practicing and being straight-up obnoxious. After 10 minutes of sitting on Paige’s lap, the lack of action was making you feel antsy. The unknown of what was coming was eating at your anxieties.
Suddenly, KK reads out ‘We wanna see Paige,’ causing her to dramatically flip the phone toward where the two of you were nestled together. Paige gives a wave, smiling smugly, as if she could see the faces of the fans already.
Feeling shy all of a sudden, you bury your face in Paige’s neck, trying to disappear from the camera and the hooting girls holding it. You try to ignore the way Paige lets out a tiny moan as your lips accidentally meet the pale, smooth skin. You think you’d spend the rest of your life wanting to pull that noise out of her lips again. 
Ice grabs her phone back out of KK’s grasp and continues asking questions, as if nothing had happened. You let out a breath, and come up for air, looking around at the girls. 
Azzi looks pleased, watching the comments carefully and gauging the reaction of Paige’s loyal, and extremely passionate, fans. Out of reach from the camera, she sends an enthusiastic thumbs up, signaling that the first phase of the plan was a success. You just didn’t realize how successful it would end up being. 
Phase two was deemed ‘Project Bow Bow Bow’ by KK. You had protested, saying, “what the hell does that even mean?” KK had just shrugged, so you went along with it. 
It was decided that you and Paige had to be seen in public together, showing considerable amounts of PDA. “Ya gotta really sell it,” the girls had said with a laugh. Again, you just went along with it, but the idea of people seeing you with someone so loved by the public terrified you. What if people thought you weren’t good enough for Paige? 
Foregoing your usual bar, Paige decides a house party would be a more intimate place to delude the UConn students into your fake relationship. Trusting Paige to take the reins, you accompanied her into a colossal, and if you were being honest, ostentatious, house just outside of the university’s campus. Your eyes widened at the stately staircase, its grandeur diminished by the drunk students already perched upon it. The noise of the house pounded through your ears, almost distracting you from the way Paige had intertwined your fingers together, rubbing soothing circles onto the top of your small hand. It was blissful.
The tall blonde leads you past hoards of students through the house. You’re too busy avoiding the looks you’re earning to question how Paige knows her way around so well.
A tall and muscular guy bumps into you, causing you to stumble in the heeled boots you wore. Paige glares at the kid, eyebrows furrowing harshly, and removes her hand from yours to wrap protectively around your waist. She pulls you in, making sure you are fine before continuing to lead you into the kitchen. 
“Want a drink?” Paige asks, leaning into you, struggling to converse over the pounding noise of the bass.
You nod, grateful to have something to dull your overwhelmed senses. Paige pours you a drink, making you wince at the amount of vodka that ends up in your cup. She holds the cup to your lips, encouraging you to tentatively sip the beverage. You welcome the burn that slides down your throat, settling into a warm pool in your belly that makes you feel more relaxed in seconds. 
As the kitchen fills up with numerous people, all looking for refills, you and Paige take solace in a sitting area in a more closed off area of the house. You are pulled onto her lap once more, a wink reassuring you that everything was going to plan.
You talk over the noise of the party, faces close together. One of Paige’s hands settles on your inner thigh, almost possessively. She rubs slow, teasing circles onto the sensitive flesh, the pressure deepening in a way that had you holding back moans of pleasure.
“I-I gotta run to the backroom. Be back in a sec,” you stutter, feeling suddenly appreciative that the darkness of the party hides your blush. Before Paige can even respond, you shoot off her lap, and run to the bathroom. 
It takes a few tries to actually find the bathroom, accidentally walking on several horny couples getting it on in random rooms. As you lock the bathroom door, you sigh and slide onto the floor, feeling overloaded with the fake intimacy. It had been awhile since you had dated anyone, and stress of it all was starting to get to you. 
You had to get it together. Taking a few deep breaths and giving yourself a pep talk, you walk back out into the chaos of the party. As you find your way back to where you and Paige had been sitting, you see some girl talking to her. Jealousy settles into you, before remembering you had a role to play; you were actually allowed to stake your claim on Paige.
Walking up to the two girls, you plaster a sultry smile to your face and take a seat back on Paige’s lap as if it belonged to you. Paige’s eyes widened in surprise; this week she had initiated nearly every touch between you two. Little did you know, she was secretly very pleased at this new behavior, arms immediately wrapping around you once more. 
Without saying anything, the girl rolls her eyes and walks away You try desperately to keep up the act of nonchalance; the smirk that crawls over your face ruins it real fast. 
No one bothers you the rest of the night, but you continue your act. You play with her fingers and she traces patterns onto your thigh. And despite the commotion transpiring around the two of you, the entire world disappears.
Paige drops you back off at your apartment that night with bright blue eyes, hazy under the spell of intoxication, but she was drunk off of more than just the alcohol. She places a small kiss on your cheek, lips grazing the corner of your mouth before bidding you a good night.
You spend the whole night dreaming about it, over and over again.
*You can now read Part 2 and Part 3
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bodhrancomedy · 11 days
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So, years and years and years ago, I started writing a book.
Today I found a list of the chapter titles from said book.
Help, My Boredom is Slowly Killing Me
This Play is Filled With Mermaids, Melodrama, and Cute Musicians (Not That I’m Complaining)
Open Mouth, Insert Foot
Wizards Are Weird and Vaguely Useful
Enthusiasm is Great in Small Doses
: It’s Not Eavesdropping if You Don’t Have to Try
Dressing in Dark Colours is a Villain Cliché
Personal or Politics? Why Choose?
The Pros and Cons of Sneaking Around at Night
The Problem is Getting Them to Stop Talking
Dinner, Drinks, and Discoveries (Of Historical Import)
No, Tara, We’re Not Going to Dramatically Rob Him
Fine, it’s a Dramatic Robbery (Also Am I Being Threatened in Tree Symbolism?)
What Kind of Monster Locks a Child in a Prop Box?
Another Day, Another Attempt at Murder
I’m Sorry I Broke My Parole but It Was Kind of Important (Part 1)
Never Look Your Heroes Up in the Hall of Records
Hey, I Really, Really Fancy You (Please Be Gay)
Oh, Gods, a Plot Twist
Alright, So Now You’re Efficient at Your Jobs
I’m Sorry I Broke My Parole but It Was Kind of Important (Part 2)
Would You Mind? My Cellmate is Dying.
Fuck, I’m Surrounded by *Fucking* Heroes.
I Told You There Were Magical Locks For a Good Reason!
Well, Shit. I Guess That’s That, Then.
Fifteen year old me was having a Time.
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jakeshands · 7 months
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love me like you
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pairing: sim jake x fem!reader
synopsis: who would’ve thought that a multitude of failed blind dates would lead you to fake dating jake sim? definitely not you. soon, you find out fake dating has its pros and cons. pros; you’re finally in a relationship, you have your own personal chauffeur, and your own personal study buddy. cons; you fall in love. what a mess.
genre: strangers to lovers, blind dating, fake dating, mutual pining, fluff and angst
featuring: enhypen, wonyoung of ive, yunjin of lsfm, ricky of zb1, soobin of txt
warnings: light angst, profanity, mentions of alchohol/consumption of alchohol, lots of kissing, mentions of death
word count: 25k
author’s note: look this got out of hand and idk how that happened. what was supposed to be under 20k turned into this mess. please ignore all the editing mistakes and if the story doesnt flow well/is choppy and some scenes feel out of place….just know i had to cut scenes out to post this fic. i couldnt post the whole 28k word fic for some weird reason so this is the edited version. please enjoy and lmk if u want to read the scenes i had to cut! anyway the reader is korean in this fic, just a heads up. u will see Why. um. thats it. and also if the ending feels rushed, that’s because It Is.
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“Are you mansplaining to me?” You ask your date, a frown permanently sharpened onto your face. “Because, for the record, I know what a wage gap is. No need to explain it in a condescending way.”
You were excited about this date -- the fourth one your kind friend, and roommate, Wonyoung had set up for you. She had taken your inexperience in high school very personally and took it upon herself to get you to go on as many dates as possible. In her own words, “you’re at college! Time to let loose, girl!”
So; your first date went well, but it only ended in a friendship. Taehyun Kang was fun to talk to, but when the date came to an end the both of you agreed your relationship wouldn’t ever go further than a friendship, so you exchanged numbers, followed each other on TikTok, and began to send each other random, funny TikToks to each other.
Your second date showed up stoned. Ben was fun to talk to since he was stoned, and his answers to the questions you had to ask ten times were completely off-topic, but you still had an enjoyable time. Though, when the date ended you both went your separate ways. (Ben texted you within the following days. He invited you to a party. You then lost your virginity.)
Your third date was with a girl. Yuri Jo. She was pretty and funny, and she went on this date to make her crush jealous. You willingly helped Yuri out, and a week after your date, Yuri’s crush confessed to her. Yuri and you keep in touch over Instagram -- Yuri’s feed is just her and her girlfriend now, and you think it’s adorable.
This brings us to your fourth date; Soobin Choi. Anime enthusiast, takes Gender Studies as an elective course, and a professional mansplainer. When he showed up to the date, you felt yourself swoon over how handsome he looked. His smile was cute, and dimples were even cuter -- and then Soobin opened his mouth. The first red flag was the fact Soobin said he wasn’t a feminist, but women should be treated just as fairly as men. You told Soobin that was feminism and he shot you down. Then, for the better half of your date, Soobin mansplained many things to you; Anime, Maki Zeinin from Jujutsu Kaisen, and the wage gap.
“And I don’t think men should even be allowed to speak about Maki Zeinin. She is for the women. She is gay.”
Soobin harshly stabs his tiramisu as he listens to you. “Maki is-- Maki is not gay.” Soobin splutters. “Calling a character, whose sexuality hasn’t been explicitly revealed, gay is very --”
Huffing, you push back your chair and glare at Soobin. “Thank you for the date, Soobin but I think it’s time for me to go. I forgot I had fish to feed and a New Girl marathon to finish.”
“Fine,” sniffs Soobin, abandoning his tiramisu. “Let’s go split the payment.”
After splitting the pavement, you step out into the cold December air. Shivering, you draw your coat tighter around your torso and scan the streets around you. Soobin turns to you, and you brace yourself for whatever bullshit he was about to say.
“Would you like a ride home?” Soobin asks.
“No,” you answer without any hesitation.
“Are you sure? How else will you get home, then?”
“I can walk,” you respond coldly.
“Walk,” Soobin repeats, not believing your words. “Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Come on, let me take you home.”
Sighing, you give in. It was quite cold, and you weren’t sure you would be able to walk all the way home in the dark. “Fine.” You follow Soobin to his car, which is a car you expected from a college student; old, and barely working.
It takes a while for hot air to blow through the heaters, so you sit in the cold silence with Soobin for half of the ride back to your place. “How do you even know Wonyoung?” You ask Soobin, looking out the window and watching cars race past.
“I don’t know her, she’s just a friend of a friend,” Soobin answers.
“Why did you even agree to go on this date?”
Soobin shrugs. “Post-grad is lonely.”
Finally, your dorm hall comes into view. You could practically hear New Girl calling to you. “Thank you for the ride home,” you tell Soobin.
“No problem. See you around?”
“Yeah,” you shut the door and immediately sprint into your dorm hall, aching for warmth over the chilly wind blowing violently through the air. Rushing past the kitchen and the common areas, you dash into the elevator that Ricky was holding open for you. You thank the platinum blond and rest against the elevator walls, fanning yourself.
In your pocket, your phone begins to buzz uncontrollably. Stifling your sigh, you pull out your phone and unlock it to see all of your friends active in the group chat.
yoon 💖
[1 video attachment]
WOAHHHHHHHHHH?????
apparently jake gave her chlamydia LMFAO
jiwon loml
throwing a red drink all over his white top..that’s gotta hurt lol
wony 👯
jake has chlamydia???
yoon 💖
idk.
the girl in the video mentions it tho. did u not watch it???
wony 👯
i did!!!!! i’m just surprised jake has chlamydia
baby hikaru
what’s so surprising abt it??
rei 🐥 🐥
jsut spliilt ramen everywhehere :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((:((((((((((((((((
The elevator door dings open and you step out, walking down the hall to your room. Your and Wonyoung’s names were proudly sketched onto the whiteboard outside of your room. Cats, courtesy of Jiwon, and hearts, courtesy of Rei were added on after you hung the whiteboard outside of the room when you first moved in.
Pushing open the door, Wonyoung lies on her bed, swinging her legs through the air as she smiles bashfully at her phone. “Welcome back, Y/N,” Wonyoung looks up from her phone and wiggles her eyebrows. “So? Did you kiss? Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend? Soobin’s really handsome, isn’t he?”
“He’s handsome,” you agree, shrugging off your coat. “But. He’s just not my type.”
Wonyoung groans, rolling onto her back. “No one is your type. What is your type?”
“Someone who doesn’t mansplain the wage gap to me,” you deadpan, crawling under your covers and staring up at the ceiling. “He said he wasn’t a feminist, yet he hopes that one day women can be treated just as fairly as men.”
Wonyoung snorts. “That sounds terrible.”
“It was terrible,” you groan, rolling onto your stomach and suffocating yourself with your pillow.
“Well, I’m out of options,” Wonyoung tells you. “My connections can only get me so far.”
“That’s okay,” you roll back onto your back and look over at Wonyoung. “I’m thinking, you know that section in the school’s magazine? Where they send two people on a blind date and then those two people write about the date for the magazine? I might sign up for that. It looks fun, and who knows, maybe I will find the love of my life! If not, I’ll just join dating apps.”
Wonyoung perks up, her eyes shining. “Oh my god! Yes!” She shifts to the edge of her bed. “You should one-hundred percent do it, Y/N. Apply for it now!” Wonyoung slips off her bed and steps over to her desk, grabbing her Macbook and flopping down onto your bed beside you.
With a pounding heart, you sign up for the blind date program. “I hope I get someone nice,” you tell Wonyoung as you click the apply button. “Someone I can at least have a conversation with.”
“Or someone you can get down and dirty with,” smirks Wonyoung, ignoring your glare. Her phone buzzes and you steal a glance at the notification. You gasp and whack Wonyoung on the shoulder when you see who has just texted her. “Sunghoon Park? Since when did you know Sunghoon Park?”
“I don’t,” Wonyoung says.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t know him,” but the blush spreading across her cheeks as she types back with a stupid smile on her face says otherwise.
Rolling your eyes, you pull out your phone to spill Wonyoung’s Sunghoon Secret to the groupchat. “I totally believe you, Wonyoung.”
—-
It’s been a week since you took a leap of faith and applied for the blind date program run by your university’s magazine. It’s been a week of you non-stop refreshing the top of your school email’s inbox. It’s been a week of Wonyoung constantly asking you if you had scored a blind date. It’s been a week of nothing but stress.
You slowly come to terms with the fact that you weren’t chosen -- it was like you were asking whoever it is that pairs two people together to search for a needle in a stack of needles. What needle were they supposed to be searching for in the first place? It’s all futile.
Though, when your inbox receives a new email on a Wednesday night, you can’t help but squeal. “Wonyoung!” You call out, waving your best friend over as you eagerly squirm on the armchair you were sitting on in the common room of your dormitory.
Congrats! You’ve been chosen…reads the email notification. Wonyoung eagerly badgers you to open the email, and without hesitation you do. A flood of information is revealed to you and Wonyoung -- your date was to happen on a Friday night. 6 PM. At the local restaurant that is an avid sponsor of your college’s football team, you and your date were to be gifted with a one-hundred-dollar voucher to cover the cost of your dinner.
“This is amazing, Y/N!” Wonyoung whispers to you in the dark, hours after you received the email. The time was creeping into the early morning of Thursday when Wonyoung whispered to you, the both of you unable to sleep because of the email you received confirming that you were going on another blind date this Friday.
Friday comes faster than you expected it to, and you were not prepared for what it brings you. As Murphy’s Law states; anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And it all starts with you sleeping through your 9 AM alarm. (For the first time ever.) You wake up with ten minutes to get dressed, eat, and race across campus to your first lecture of the day -- even worse, it was raining outside. Torrential rain.
It doesn’t get any better. At your first tutorial of the day, your tutor hands you back the essay you asked her to go over, and it’s covered in red marker with a comment saying this essay is a C. C plus at best. And you feel your knees give out. You race through lunch, grabbing hot chips from your dormitory’s lunch hall and re-reading the red-marked comments on your worst essay to date.
Your following lecture is canceled because your professor is sick, and then your last tutorial of the day is also canceled. You end up joining Wonyoung, Yoon, and Rei in one of the campus cafes, soothing your sorrows with apple juice bought from a vending machine.
“Enhypen’s throwing a party tomorrow,” Yoon says. “Should we go?”
“I’m down,” Rei shrugs. “I need to forget all about the assessments waiting for me back at my dorm.” Then, she nudged Wonyoung. “But I bet Wonyoung is eager to go. Her beau is in that frat.”
Wonyoung blushes hotly and tells Rei to shut the fuck up. You don’t have the energy in you to join in on Rei’s teasing.
When you reach your dorm after spending the rest of the afternoon elbow-deep in assessments in the campus library, you note the time. 5:30 PM. Didn’t you have something to do at 6? Then, you remember. The blind date. Fuck.
You throw open the tiny shared closet and rummage through all the clothes you and Wonyoung were able to stuff in here before investing in a couple of dressers. Every outfit you try on isn’t up to your, or Wonyoung’s standards, and by the time you’re done with your outfit and makeup, the clock reads 5:55 PM. You can’t take the bus now; you’re going to be super fucking late.
Bidding Wonyoung a hurried goodbye, you race into the common room and scout for a familiar face. As usual, Ricky was reclining sideways on one of the many couches, Uno cards in hand, and completely obliterating who he was playing with. (Bahiyyih, Dayeon, and Youngeun.)
“Ricky!” You call out, bounding over to the boy. “Could you drive me somewhere? Please? I’ll pay you!”
“Drive you? Where?” Ricky asks, placing a yellow six on top of the growing pile of Uno cards.
“Just.” You check the time on your phone. 5:57 PM. “Down the street. The Korean BBQ place.”
Ricky huffs. “Alright. Let me finish this game first, though.”
“Ricky --”
With a flourish, Ricky places his remaining red cards on top of the red card Youngeun placed down. The three girls all let scandalous gasps rip from their mouths and Ricky smirks proudly. “I won. I expect to see my essays finished by Friday.”
Ricky slips off the couch and pulls his keys out from his hoodie pocket, swinging them through the air. “Let’s go, Y/N.”
—-
“Thank you!” You shout at Ricky as you shut the car door harshly. You break into a run for the Korean BBQ place, already five minutes late. Your heart pounds insanely fast and it feels like you’re about to explode.
With your mind a mess, you don’t notice the large puddle in front of you until it’s too late. Cold water soaks your left foot, drenching your shoe and sock. Coming to an abrupt halt, you glance down, finally taking notice of the large puddle and you let various loud curses rip.
You don’t have time to figure out how to dry yourself, so you carry on to the barbeque place. Wrenching the door open and listening to the bell jingle harshly, you scan the room of people. You don’t even know who you’re looking for. A waitress appears in front of you, beaming. “Are you here for the blind date?”
You nod your head. “Great, I’ll take you over!” You trail after the waitress, cursing under your breath as your shoe squelches every few steps, and your feet grow colder every second you don’t stop to dry yourself. You bump into the waitress, realizing she has come to a stop. “I’ll return in a bit to take your orders. Enjoy!” And then the waitress disappears.
You see who your date is and it takes everything in you to not turn around and walk out of the restaurant.
Jake Sim sits in front of you, blond hair gleaming beneath the bright white restaurant lights. He glances up at you, holding his menu and you can easily tell he’s not impressed by you turning up to the date seven minutes late.
“I’m so sorry,” you blurt, clumsily pulling out your chair and taking a seat opposite him. “I’m so sorry. Today’s been a totally shit day and -- sorry, I shouldn’t cuss. I didn’t mean to arrive late, I was super excited about this date, it’s just that my shit day --- fuck sorry. Sorry. My shit day got in the way of my time management and. I’m just. So sorry. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I’m sorry for turning up late.”
Jake smiles. It’s a small smile, one that barely reaches his eyes. “It’s okay. We all have our days.”
“Right.”
You both lapse into awkward silence. “I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduce yourself awkwardly, fiddling with the salt packets on the table.
“Jake Sim,” Jake responds, but you already knew that -- you know Jake Sim well. He’s a part of Enhypen. A well-known, incredibly popular frat on your college’s campus. It’s a legacy frat -- sons of college alumni always get into that frat. There have been the odd students that got into Enhypen because of their connections, but it’s usually always legacies that pledge in. Enhypen is known for many things; the hot college students living in the house, the massive parties they throw almost every weekend, and Jay Park. Everyone who goes to your college knows Jay Park. It’s hard to not know Jay Park -- but that’s another story.
Jake Sim is undeniably handsome. Big, round, warm brown eyes, cute nose, full lips, and sharp cheekbones, he has it all. Jake Sim is also undeniably wealthy, and undeniably smart. Everyone knows Jake will graduate with honors and with the top marks in his class. Everyone knows Jake will be one of the best students to graduate from their university, he’s a once-in-a-generation student. His wealth is also very highly looked upon. His father owns many corporate businesses in America, and overseas (mostly South Korea.) And Jake, himself, has a trust fund and rumor has it the trust fund is in the millions. Jake’s father and mother are legacies of your college, so it’s not a surprise Jake got early admission, and also is a part of Enhypen.
“What year are you?” Jake asks.
“I’m a first year student. Majoring in Linguistics.”
Jake hums. “I'm in my third year. Physics major.”
“I always hated anything to do with math or science in high school,” you comment, picking up the menu in front of you. “I can’t imagine ever wanting to do college-level physics.”
“I hated anything to do with English in high school,” Jake responds. “I don’t know how people can do English-related courses in college. Where would a degree in Linguistics even take you?”
“Translating jobs,” you refuse to look at Jake, some sort of frustration boiling in your blood because of Jake’s offhand comment. “Maybe editing. I could also teach English to non-English speakers. What does Physics even offer to you after post-grad?”
“I could become a NASA employee,” Jake responds. “Which I hope to be after post-grad.”
You take a peek at Jake, who is already looking at you. You smile, but it’s not a warm smile nor does it reach your eyes. “I hope you become a NASA employee as well.”
A familiar waitress stops by, ready to take your orders. After she leaves, the awkward silence is overwhelming so you reach forward and take a sip of water from the glass in front of you. “So,” Jake speaks up after a few moments. “What do you do for fun, Y/N? What are your hobbies?”
Going on a date is a way to get to know each other, so you indulge in Jake’s question. “I like to read—a lot. I love going to libraries and spending hours in them, just flipping through books or taking a seat on a beanbag and reading. I also like just staying in and hanging out with my friends, playing board games is always fun. I don’t really like going out that much.”
Jake hums, and reaches for his own drink. It’s some kind of mocktail. “What about you?” You ask Jake. “What do you do for fun?”
You find out Jake’s the complete opposite of you. He likes to go out. He likes to play sports; basketball, football, soccer, rugby, cricket, baseball. He’s probably done every sport there is. He also likes to go fishing, which you find highly unenjoyable. He’s very active, he finds comfort in exercising. And more importantly, he enjoys a good party.
“Do you drink a lot?” You ask Jake.
“Depends on the day,” Jake answers. “Why do you ask?”
You shrug. “I’m just curious. I don’t drink that much. I do enjoy a bit of white wine here and there, though.”
The conversation between you and Jake seems stilted. You can’t find any common ground -- Jake doesn’t watch many TV shows and not a lot of K-dramas. He watches movies every now and then when he finds time in his busy schedule. “I’m busy almost every day of the week,” Jake explains. “I have football practice and debate club practice, and I handle the funds of our frat since I’m the treasurer. I also pick up tutoring jobs most days.” Even his music taste doesn’t match yours. Anything from Justin Bieber to AC/DC is what Jake enjoys. Different from your own taste.
“Do you know Taylor Swift?” You ask Jake.
“I know her song, Love Story,” Jake answers.
You drop the subject of music immediately.
The food arrives, and it’s awful. You take a bite of your food and immediately regret it because the food is chewy. Very chewy and it tastes severely undercooked. While Jake happily eats his food, you’re left with pushing your food around your plate because you don’t want to cause a scene. You don’t want to make some waitress’ day awful because of your complaints about undercooked food.
Jake gives you a look as he notices you haven’t touched your plate of food.
“I’m not hungry,” you tell Jake with a grin you hope placates Jake. He just shrugs and continues on eating. The silence is unbearable and your eyes begin to burn, which leads you to reprimand yourself -- why are you tearing up? You have no right to tear up. (Or maybe you do because this date is going badly. The awkward silence refuses to go away, and the more you talk with Jake, the more you realize how little you have in common with him.)
Jake finishes eating and there’s another five-minute silence. “Wanna go get ice cream?” Jake asks. His eyes beg you to say no and you want to say no, but instead, you say “Sure!”
You follow Jake up to the counter to pay, but of course, something bad just has to happen to you. A waitress passing by trips up and spills the red wine she was carrying all over your top. You stand there, fists clenched and blinking back your tears as the waitress apologizes profusely.
“It’s okay,” you assure the waitress, waving her away. “It’s okay.” (It wasn’t okay.)
“What happened?” Jake asks you after he finishes using the voucher to pay, noticing the large red stain on your white top.
“Red wine spillage. Let’s go get ice cream.” You step out of the restaurant and wait for Jake to lead you down the street to the nearby ice cream parlor.
On the way, you once again, don’t notice a large puddle until you’re stepping in it, completely soaking your right foot -- shoes, socks, and all. You groan loudly and shake your first threateningly up at the sky, wondering what you did to make this happen to you.
“You okay?” Jake asks you, frowning slightly.
“Yeah,” you respond, blushing when you realize Jake had been watching as you cursed at the sky above.
Entering the parlor, you search your pockets for your wallet. Your movements become increasingly frantic when you can’t find it and then it hits you -- you have left your wallet on your bedside table. Jake, increasingly perceptive, notices your troubled expression. “What’s up, Y/N?”
You sigh and hang your head, mumbling, “I forgot my wallet.”
“Hmm? What was that?”
“I forgot my wallet,” you repeat louder. The silence that follows is suffocating.
Jake sighs and when you look up, he doesn’t look impressed as he says, “I’ll pay.”
“No -- it’s okay. We don’t have to get ice cream. I don’t want you to pay,” You hold your hands out, your eyes wide and the tears burn your eyes once more.
“I’ll pay,” Jake repeats, more firmly this time. “Pick what flavor you want.”
“Mint chocolate,” you say without hesitation.
Jake makes a face. “You like mint chocolate?”
“It’s the best flavor.”
Jake shudders and shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
You step up to the counter, Jake gesturing for you to go first. “Can I have mint chocolate please?”
The girl behind the register smiles politely. “Sorry, we ran out of mint chocolate. Do you have another flavor you would like to try?”
You don’t know why, but that was your breaking point. You break out into sobs and the entire shop quietens, all eyes turning to you as you begin to sob at the mention of the shop having no mint chocolate ice cream. Without bothering to excuse yourself, you exit the store, sobbing louder as you stand outside in the cold with soaking wet feet, and a white top stained red.
You wonder why today of all days, the world decides to be cruel to you. Any other day would’ve been fine, but instead, on the day of your blind date with Jake Sim of all people, the world decides to unleash its fury on you.
The door slams shut behind you and you turn around, finding Jake standing in front of the entrance, a small paper cup full of ice cream in hand. You stare at him, unable to respond. Jake had still gotten ice cream, making sure to take his time, instead of coming out to check on you. Maybe you and Jake weren’t compatible in any way -- he was a T, after all, whereas you were an F.
“Jake, what the fuck--”
He steps closer, holding out the paper cup that had two spoons. You peer into the cup, seeing green ice cream with dots of occasional brown chocolate chips. Jake had gotten mint chocolate ice cream. You look at Jake, floundering for words.
“They had mint chocolate out back,” Jake informs you. “I told them to go get it.”
“You don't -- you don’t like mint chocolate though.”
Jake shrugs. “But you do. Here, you must be cold.” He slips off his jean jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. Instantly, you feel warm and the awful feeling that had manifested in your gut disappears. You wipe away your tears and take the unused wooden spoon, scooping up some mint chocolate ice cream and letting it melt in your mouth.
“Thank you, Jake,” you say softly. “How could I ever repay you? You didn’t have to do this.”
“You were having a shitty day,” Jake answers with a small smile -- a small yet genuine smile. His first genuine smile of the date. “It was the least I could do.”
“Well, thank you.” You repeat.
“I know how you can repay me, Y/N,” a mischievous grin spreads across Jake’s face as he takes a step closer. There’s a change of energy in the air and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You can repay me with a kiss.”
“A kiss?”
Jake hums, nodding. “A kiss.” There’s a beat. “You can say no, though.”
“No,” you say, and Jake’s expression changes. He steps back, but instantly you’re yanking him close to you, desperate to correct the misunderstanding. “I mean. No. I don’t want to say no. I want to kiss you, Jake.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat.
Jake’s hand cups your cheek. His eyes hold yours, an intense look in them. He begins to lean in and your heart speeds up, your cheek burning beneath Jake’s touch.
“You don’t have chlamydia, do you?” You ask Jake, your voice breathless.
Jake snorts. “No. No, I don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
Jake answers with a kiss. Immediately, with your hand that isn’t holding the cup of ice cream, you grip the collar of Jake’s dress shirt. His lips are warm against yours, and he tastes like mint chocolate. You kiss back eagerly, giving in to the warmth of Jake, and the gentle probing of his tongue, sighing loudly.
“Well, well, well,” an unfamiliar voice cuts through the air. “What do we have here, little Jakey?”
Jake pulls away from you, forehead against yours as he catches his breath before turning around, his hand slipping away from your cheek and bringing all of your warmth with it. “Hyunjae,” Jake says, but he doesn’t sound happy to see the stranger.
You drink in the appearance of the stranger. You’ve never seen him in your life. But you can pick out slight similarities between Jake and this stranger -- Hyunjae. Maybe they’re related in some way, and your cheeks begin to burn a deep red.
“Did you finally settle down, Jakey?” Hyunjae remarks, not kindly.
“What’s it to you?” Jake retorts, his voice strained.
Hyunjae holds up his hands. “I’m just curious, you are my baby cousin after all. I’m very protective over you,” his eyes slide over to you and he gives you a smile that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. “I’m Hyunjae. Jake’s cousin! We grew up together. How long have you two been dating?”
“Nice to meet you, Hyunjae,” you respond in a small voice. “But we’re not --”
“Don’t answer him, Y/N,” Jake cuts you off, sounding furious. “He’s not worth your time. Go find someone else to bother, Hyunjae. Fuck off.”
Hyunjae holds up his hands like he’s surrendering himself. “No need to get all aggressive, Jakey.” He then winks your way. “I look forward to seeing you around, Y/N.”
Hyunjae walks past you and Jake, sending one last smile over his shoulder. The smile feels like a warning.
You turn to Jake, looking for answers. You find him scuffing his shoe along the ground and mumbling curses under his breath. “Uh, Jake?” You poke his shoulder and he turns to you as if he was only just realizing you were next to him. “Are you okay?”
“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you.
“Uh, no. Ricky dropped me off. Why?”
“Can I take you home?”
You don’t know why your heart drops to your gut. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
“Great.” Jake takes your hand into his and pulls you in the direction of his car. You quickly dump the melted ice cream into a nearby trash can and try to keep up with Jake’s rapid footsteps. Jake’s car is a car you expected from someone like him; a flashy black Lexus.
When you are in the safety of Jake’s car, Jake turns to face you and inhales sharply. He doesn’t make any move to turn on the car. “That was my cousin, Hyunjae,” Jake says. “He’s the fucking worst. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate Hyunjae, and it’s just my luck that he stumbles upon us on a date. Look, Y/N, I know we’ve just met, and I know this date went awful, and I probably don’t have the honor of asking this; but do you want to be my girlfriend?”
You stare at Jake, taken aback. A high-pitched, broken, “What?” Escapes your mouth.
“Not -- not a real girlfriend of course, just. Just a fake one. Let’s fake date. I know Hyunjae, and I know he’s already spreading the news about you and me to everyone in my family. And when it comes to my family --” Jake shakes his head. “It’s best if we fake date for a bit.”
You blink rapidly, trying to take everything in. The past few minutes have gone by so fast -- one moment you were crying because of how awful this day was, then you were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, kissing him, and the next you were watching Jake fight with his cousin and now. And now you’re being asked by Jake to fake date him. “What -- what do I get from this?” You respond. “Say I agree. What’s in it for me?”
Jake obviously wasn’t expecting that kind of response. It takes a while for him to respond to you. “I’ll do anything you ask,” Jake responds. “If you need to be picked up, I’ll pick you up. If you need to be dropped off somewhere, I’ll drop you off.” You don’t respond, thinking over Jake’s offer, but he takes the silence as your rejection so he adds desperately; “I’ll pay you.”
“You’ll -- you’ll pay me?” You look at Jake, gobsmacked.
“I’ll pay you.” Jake nods.
“Tell me why you need us to date this badly,” you tell Jake.
“Look, my family -- they’re not a normal family. All wealthy families aren’t normal. Mine -- they’re all competitive with each other. If one kid gets a high grade, everyone else’s kids must get a higher grade or else they aren’t worthy of having the last name ‘Sim’.” Jake explains. “Our family is not kind to each other. And when it comes to dating,” Jake sighs. “Breaking up with your significant other is the worst thing you could do. My relatives view breaking up as a sign of incompetence, a sign that you aren’t fit to take over the family business. It’s stupid, I know, and the last time I brought someone home, it ended in a disaster and -- and I want to prove them wrong. I want to show them that I can have a lasting relationship, and finally make my family proud of me.”
“What a fucked up family,” you respond in disbelief. “They really view breaking up that way? What, would they rather you cheat on your significant other while in a relationship?” Jake’s silence is your answer and you stare at Jake with wide eyes. “You’re joking. Right?”
Jake shakes his head.
“Would you -- would you cheat on me if I agreed?” You don’t know why you sound vulnerable.
Jake shakes his head aggressively, reaching for your hands. “No. No. I don’t -- I don’t like cheating. Or cheaters. That’s the lowest thing someone can do.”
“Okay,” you nod your head. “Why do you hate Hyunjae so much? Is it just because of the family rivalry?”
Jake sighs, chewing on his bottom lip. You try to not let that distract you from the situation at hand. “Well, yes. The rivalry doesn’t exactly help me have loving relationships with my family members but -- my previous girlfriend cheated on me with Hyunjae. They’re still dating now, and I always see her at family dinners and I just. I just want to prove to both of them that I can move on -- that I have moved on.”
You let Jake’s explanation simmer for a while. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your girlfriend -- fake girlfriend.”
Jake grins, squeezing your hands. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.” Silence fills the car and you sigh. “We need to map out the timeline of our relationship, sort out what are the dos and don’ts of this relationship, and how we will deal with the pieces we’re supposed to write about our blind date for the school magazine.”
Jake nods his head.
“I went out on a blind date last week,” you inform Jake. “It was Saturday. Soobin Choi. So we have had to meet after that.”
“Soobin Choi?” Jake gives you a look. “You don’t look like the type of girl to go for Soobin Choi.”
You scowl. “My friend set it up for me. And don’t worry, I don’t think I’ll ever be a Soobin Choi girl.”
“Who knows you went on this blind date?” Jake asks you. “Other than the people who arranged this for us.”
“Wonyoung Jang.”
“Wonyoung? You’re friends with Wonyoung?”
You nod your head and Jake grins. “My friend, Sunghoon Park? Do you know him? Anyway, he has a huge crush on Wonyoung.”
You giggle. “I think Wonyoung likes him back. They’ve been texting a lot recently.”
Jake gasps. “That’s who he’s been texting? That motherfucker wouldn’t tell me who it was.” Jake cracks his neck, “I’m so going to get him when I get home.” He then turns to you. “Only Jay and Sunoo know about the blind date. Do you think Wonyoung can keep quiet about how we actually met?”
You nod your head. “She loves keeping secrets.”
“Great,” Jake nods his head. “We threw a party last week on Saturday. What if you said you stopped by after the date?”
“Soobin dropped me back home, though,” you respond. “And lots of people saw me enter the dorm.”
“What about after?” Jake asks.
“I guess that could work. Wonyoung is a party girl. She could’ve taken me out to party after the date that ended in disaster, and I met you there.”
Jake nods his head. “I think that’s believable.”
“But didn’t you get screamed at by a girl for giving her chlamydia that night?”
Jake grins. “So that’s why you asked if I had chlamydia.”
“Whatever,” you huff.
“We’ll say we comforted each other about our shitty nights and knew then that we had a connection. I asked you out, and you said yes. What did you do Monday night?”
“I had classes until 4 PM.”
Jake nods his head. “I had football practice until five, and then I drove myself around for a few hours. Decompressing after a shit practice. I got McDonalds. You can’t go wrong with McDonalds after working off all the fat gathered up from having too much McDonalds.” Jake shakes his head in amusement at himself. “I could say I took you out then, but we didn’t go to McDonalds.”
“We went to the rollerskating rink,” you suggest. “I’ve always wanted to go on a date there.”
“Okay,” Jake nods his head.
“Hey what if -- what if we admit to dating each other on the pieces we write about our blind date?”
Jake looks at you, confused.
“I applied for the blind date on Saturday. Before I “left” for Enha’s party. And I got the notification that I’d been chosen on Wednesday. After we supposedly began dating. We could say we mentioned that we applied for this blind date thing to each other, and realized we were the two people chosen. Doesn’t that sound believable?”
“That works. I applied for the blind date on Friday.” Jake’s smile slowly grows. “This is all working out!”
“That way, we won’t really be lying about the blind date if someone asks,” you tell Jake.
Jake holds his hand up for a high five. You slap it, sharing an excited grin with Jake. Everything was falling into place. “OK, we have our story settled, now are there any boundaries you want to mention? Though, if we want to keep this believable I have to be able to kiss you. On the lips. A lot.” Jake looks shy as he mentions this. “I’m -- I’m a very affectionate boyfriend. Or hook up. I like to kiss, so we’re gonna have to kiss a lot.”
Your heart leaps to your throat. Kissing Jake on the lips whenever he felt like it? You would be stupid to not agree. “That’s fine,” you hope you come across as calm at the thought of kissing Jake. “I don’t mind. I don’t really have anything to mention-- except when should we break up?”
“Uh.”
“What about my birthday? February 14th. That gives us...A month and a bit of dating.”
“You were born on Valentine's Day?” Jake asks in awe.
You nod your head. “Yeah. Does that sound good?”
Jake nods his head. “For sure.” Then he frowns, biting his lip once again. You’re beginning to hate it when he does that because it only makes you want to kiss him. “Do you…Do you think you could come to every party Enhypen throws?”
“Why?”
“Heeseung’s girlfriend, Yunjin, always comes to our parties even though she’s not a partier herself.”
You shrug, thinking of Wonyoung always telling you to go out and live your life. “Why not?”
“And pet names? Do you like them? Baby? Babe? Pookie Pie?”
You shove Jake. “Pet names are cute. As long as they don’t go overboard, like Pookie Pie, or muffin, or anything relating to food.”
“Okay,” Jake holds out his hand for you to shake. “One last time; are you sure you want to be my fake girlfriend?”
“Yes,” you respond. “I have to tell Wonyoung about this, if that’s okay?”
“That’s fine,” Jake says, shaking your hand tightly. “I have to tell Jay and Sunoo anyway. I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow? For the party? Wonyoung can come too.”
You agree. “Alright, I’ll take you home now.”
The drive home is filled with Jake’s Justin Bieber playlist. You decide that your first course of action as Jake’s fake girlfriend will be to change his choice in music. You will craft him a playlist to use whenever you’re in the car with him, so you can both listen to tunes you both enjoy.
After exchanging numbers, you hug Jake goodbye and fly up to your dorm, eagerly bursting in and scaring the shit out of Wonyoung.
“Wonyoung,” you exclaim, heaving for air, “you will never believe what just happened.”
—-
jake 🤍
5 mins away :)
After you receive Jake’s text, you send yourself into a frenzy, pacing your small dorm with Wonyoung sitting on her bed, watching. “Oh my god, this is a mistake. I should’ve never agreed to fake date Jake. Fuck.” You look at Wonyoung, halting your pacing. “I fucked up badly and you’re not going to say anything?”
Wonyoung smiles at you. “I think this will be a good thing, Y/N. Think optimistically! Who knows, you could develop lifelong friendships because of this.”
You cuss out Wonyoung and resume your pacing, jumping at every loud sound. You weren’t prepared for tonight -- how were you supposed to act like you were in love with Jake when you literally only met and talked to him yesterday? You weren’t an actor, and you were a terrible liar.
Your phone buzzes. “He’s here,” you tell Wonyoung. “Can’t I tell him I’m feeling sick?”
Wonyoung shakes her head, sliding off her bed and throwing you the leather jacket you took from Youngeun. “No, put that on, and let’s go get fucking wasted!” Wonyoung cheers loudly and you roll your eyes, tugging the leather jacket over your red corset top.
Jake was scrolling through his phone when you walked up to his car. You rap your knuckles against the window and Jake looks up, breaking out into a grin when he sees you. You walk around to the passenger’s side and slide into the car, hearing whispers of Justin Bieber playing in the background.
“Good evening,” Jake greets. “You look nice.”
Your hands fiddle with your short black skirt, trying to stop the blush from heating up your cheeks. “It’s nothing,” you respond, “just something Wonyoung picked out for me.”
At the mention of Wonyoung, Jake turns to look behind him, grinning at Wonyoung. “Hey, I’m Jake. It’s nice to finally meet you. Sunghoon talks about you a lot.”
You watch Wonyoung blush. “I hope it’s good things.”
Jake giggles. “It’s only ever good things about you, don’t worry.” He then settles back down and looks at you. “Are you ready, Y/N? You can back out if you want, there’s always another party you could go to.”
You shake your head. “I’m fine. Let me play some music, though, enough Justin Bieber.”
Jake drives you and Wonyoung back to his frat to the tune of One Direction’s discography. You were surprised to find out Jake knew most of One Direction’s songs. You’d finally found common ground with Jake, and your chest warms at the thought.
The street is packed with cars, and late party-goers walking on the road, but with skilled ease, Jake maneuvers his way to the frat and parks the car up the driveway without a hitch. The music dies along with the car and is replaced with bass-booming music. The whole frat looks like it’s shaking. Jake turns to you and smiles, “I have some things to check up on, so take your time, alright? I’ll get you in a few minutes.” With a wink, he climbs out of his car and races into the frat, dapping up a few guys on the way in.
Immediately, your nerves skyrocket. You began to second-guess yourself, and your fingers returned to fiddle with the edge of your skirt. Noticing your nerves, Wonyoung speaks up, reaching through the gap between the driver and passenger seat for your hand. “You got this, Y/N. You better become an Oscar-winning actress as soon as you step out of this car. Your whole college career depends on this exact moment.”
You scowl at Wonyoung, pinching her wrist. “Some best friend you are,” you huff.
“Tough love,” Wonyoung shrugs.
“Tough love my ass.”
“Look, Y/N, I’ll be by your side the entire night --”
“--Don’t lie, Wony --”
“--For most of the night. But, you’ll be fine. You work well under pressure and remember, if in doubt, just kiss the life out of Jake. Making out is the best way to draw and lose attention simultaneously.”
Jake appears suddenly, knocking on the window and beckoning you out. Wonyoung climbs out first, striking up a conversation with Jake as you work up the nerves to exit Jake’s car. After inhaling and exhaling a few times, you open the car door and step out.
The music is much louder now. The shouting and cheers of already drunk party goers fill the air, and everywhere you look, there is a girl in a short dress, or a short skirt, much like yourself and Wonyoung. “I’ll see you inside, Y/N. In the kitchen, getting a drink.” Wonyoung squeezes your shoulder and walks across the lawn, smiling at a few people whom you’ve never seen interact with Wonyoung in your life.
Next to you, Jake touches your shoulders and turns you to face him. His smile is warm and it soothes your nerves. “Just stay by my side, alright? Stand next to me and look pretty, that’s easy, right?”
You smile. “I suppose.”
“Great,” Jake kisses your forehead and intertwines your hands together. He squeezes once, and then leads you across the lawn, pausing every now and then to talk to unfamiliar faces to you, but familiar faces to him. Eventually, you reach the frat and Jake pauses, looking at you for assurance before pushing forward.
His grip on your hand becomes firmer as he guides you through the large crowd of people filling the frat. Loud voices shout in your ear, and sweaty bodies knock up against your own. You begin to grow hot beneath Youngeun’s leather jacket.
You and Jake reach the kitchen, and you see Wonyoung standing with your friends. Warmth floods you and the nerves dissipate. Jake leads you over to the counter swimming in red cups and assortments of alcoholic drinks, along with some kind of alcoholic punch.
“Jungwon wanted to try making some weird alcoholic punch,” Jake informs you, bending down to shout his words against your ear. “I would suggest avoiding it. What do you want to drink?”
Jake offers his ear to you, still bending slightly so he is able to hear you over the music. “A White Claw. Black cherry flavor.”
Jake nods his head, drawing away. “Got it, Y/N.” he kisses your cheek. “I see your friends eyeing you. Go talk to them while I scavenge for some White Claws.”
You approach your friends, a blush rising to your cheeks as they all give you a knowing look. “Were you just with Jake Sim?” Yoon practically shouts, her cheeks already a bright red, courtesy of the red cup she holds in her hand. “Were you holding hands?”
“He kissed your cheek, Y/N!” Jiwon exclaims, her eyes wide and dimples appearing as she shouts at you. “What the fuck?”
You blush and dip your head. You felt self-conscious for whatever reason. “We’re dating,” you say loudly, avoiding eye contact. All of your friends, bar Wonyoung, gasp loudly and their voices clamber to be heard over the voice of Nicki Minaj rapping in the song Beauty and the Beat.
“When the fuck did this happen?!” Hikaru exclaims.
“Monday,” you respond.
There’s more shouting and you look to Wonyoung for guidance. She gives you an assuring smile and a small bout of confidence surges through your veins. “We met at a party last week,” you continue to explain. “Wonyoung brought me after my failed date with Soobin.”
“I can’t believe you managed to get cuffed -- and by Jake Sim at that,” Yoon explains, astonished.
You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean, Yoon?”
“Oh! No offense to you!” Yoon says, realizing how awful her words sounded. “It’s just -- ever since he broke up with his last girlfriend, Jake’s been known to just sleep around. He hasn’t been in a committed relationship in a year and a half.” Yoon eyes you carefully, “just. Be careful, Y/N, I don’t want him to break your heart. You’re very precious. Too innocent for his kind of world.”
“I’ll be fine, Yoon,” you say to the girl, breaking out into a smile. “Jake takes care of me well.” You peer over your shoulder, catching sight of Jake leaning against the counter, chatting up a girl who grins, leaning forward to run her hand up his arm. Your heart drops and hurt immediately floods your chest.
You guess you spoke too soon.
Or not.
Jake catches your eye. “Hey, baby!” He shouts, drawing the attention of the girl sliding her hand up his arm, and everyone in the kitchen. “You wanted a black cherry white claw, right?” He holds up the can and winks.
You smile back. “That’s the one I wanted! I knew I could count on you, Jake!” The girl immediately retracts her hand, and the kitchen breaks out into loud voices, all saying the exact same thing -- Jake’s with Y/N?
You excuse yourself from your group of friends, who all grin at you, and bound over to Jake who is waiting for you. Without thinking it through, you rise to your toes, wrap a hand around the back of Jake’s neck, and bring him in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of Jake’s lips against yours.
You grab the white claw from Jake after the kiss, crack it open, and take a long sip. The alcohol cools you down immediately. “What was that for?” Jake asks you, amusement highlighting his face.
You shrug, not sure if your cheeks were hot because of the leather jacket you were wearing, or because you kissed Jake without thinking. “Just felt like it.”
Jake scoffs and leans down, stealing a kiss for himself.
“What was that for?” You ask him, repeating his words.
Jake repeats your own words, coupling it with a shrug as well. “Just felt like it.”
“I’m feeling hot,” you admit to Jake, “Is there anywhere I could put my leather jacket?”
“You could put it in my room.”
You give Jake a look and he snorts. “There was no other intention behind those words. We can just deposit your jacket in my room, and then join the party. Perhaps go dancing? Or we could socialize. It’s up to you, really. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
If you were able to see yourself, you think you would find stars in your eyes as you follow Jake out of the kitchen, his hand tightly gripping your own.
It’s well after one in the morning when you find yourself kissing Jake on one of the many couches in the frat. His arm is wrapped lazily around your waist as he keeps you close, his lips moving against yours in tandem. You explore Jake’s mouth with a vigor you didn’t even know you had, and you happily relish in the taste of the vodka shots Jake had encouraged you to take moments before you pulled him in for a kiss, which led to your fourth makeout session ever.
Someone clears their throat loudly and you and Jake break apart, chests heaving and eyes unable to look away. You’re the first to avert eye contact, looking at the stranger in front of you. The silver hair is immediately recognizable. Sunghoon Park towers over you and Jake, with Wonyoung gripping his bicep tightly, swaying slightly. She looked dazed.
“You’re Y/N?” Sunghoon looks to you for confirmation.
You nod your head, feeling as if you were floating. You’re pretty sure you’re tipsy. “Who’s asking?”
“Wony’s a bit drunk.” The use of Wonyoung’s nickname doesn’t slip past you. Nickname terms, huh? You think to yourself. “I think she should go home.”
“I’ll take them home,” Jake says, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling you back against him, your body flush against his. “I’m the sober driver for tonight.”
Sunghoon snorts. “I totally believe you.”
Jake scowls. “Scout’s honor! I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol.”
“I’ll believe you. Get Wonyoung home safely.”
“Aye Aye captain,” Jake salutes, and Sunghoon whispers something to Wonyoung, who smiles and nods her head. Jake pushes himself off the couch, and then helps you up, giving you a gentle smile and moving hair out of your eyes.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jake says, “Let’s get you home, Y/N.”
—-
You were still reeling from the party on Saturday. You don’t know what overcame you -- maybe it was the alcohol invading your bloodstream and the fact that all the attention was on you, that made you kiss Jake and cling to him while you danced.
Your phone lights up with another text from Jake. You had texted him throughout Sunday. He checked in a few times on Sunday, making sure you were feeling okay. Jake’s care for you made your heart expand times ten, but you had to remind yourself that this was all fake -- that none of this was real.
jake 🤍
Where are you?
you
library
in one of the study rooms
jake 🤍
What room?
you
third floor, twenty one A
jake 🤍
Ok. See you soon ❤️
Your heart pounds in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were going to do when Jake turns up in your study room with a large smile and hopeful brown eyes. He arrives quicker than you expected, opening the door and grinning at you.
“Hey Y/N,” he greets, slipping into the chair beside you.
“Hi,” you greet back quietly, focusing on your laptop in front of you. Silence embraces the room and your leg shakes beneath the table. You didn’t know how to work around Jake. He was an enigma. He was a puzzle -- a one thousand-piece puzzle that would take hours, if not days to figure out. He was a puzzle that came in a blank box with no photo to show you what the puzzle was supposed to look like.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt suddenly, unable to handle the silence. “I’m sorry about Saturday. I don’t know how to handle myself around you. I don’t know how to do relationships because I’ve never been in one, especially a fake one at that. It’s just -- it’s just so hard and confusing and I feel lost and. And. I’m sorry if I did anything weird or wrong or --”
“Y/N,” Jake interrupts your ramble. “You apologize too much.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Jake gives you a look and you avert your eyes.
“It’s okay, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong on Saturday. You were fine. I guess I’m also at fault for partially pushing you to join me at the party when we really haven’t spent any time together outside of that one blind date.” Jake reaches for your hands. “I’m here to help you, Y/N, we can work out how this fake relationship works together. First, you have to tell me a little bit more about yourself. Like, we should ask each other deep-hitting questions.”
You look at Jake and return his smile. “What are these deep-hitting questions?”
Jake hums in thought. “Like…What’s your favorite color?”
You snicker. “That’s a deep-hitting question?”
Jake nods his head, dead serious. “So? Your favorite color?”
“I like yellow,” you respond.
“Alright. Yellow. Any particular reason?”
You shake your head. “It’s a nice color. Warm color. Happy color. What’s your favorite color?”
“Red,” Jake responds. “No particular reason, like you. I just like how it looks. Not bright red, though, a dark deep red. Maroon is a nice color as well.” Jake reaches for another question. “What’s your family like?”
“I have a mom and younger sister. My dad passed away when I was young,” you tell Jake, your voice taking on a gentler tone. “My mom is my biggest inspiration. I look up to her a lot. She raised my sister and I all on her own. I was three when my dad passed, and my younger sister was one. I don’t really have many memories of my father, but I have plenty of my mother never giving up. She’s the reason I’m where I am now. She sacrificed everything for me.”
“She sounds amazing,” Jake responds, his tone matching your gentle one.
“She is. I talk to her and my younger sister every day.”
“How old is your younger sister?”
“She’s fifteen. She’s a freshman. Her name is Myeong.” You tilt your head as you look at Jake. “What about you? What’s your family like?”
“My mom and dad are…very pushy and controlling. My dad wants me to graduate and take over the family business, and my mom is very eager for grandkids before she dies. They’re only proud of me when I accomplish something big, and my mom likes -- or well, used to control everything about my life when I was living under her roof.” Jake sighs, “but my older brother, he’s the only person I love in my family. He was always there for me, and always protected me. I love him a lot.”
Jake shifts in his chair and straightens his posture. “Ouch. I just brought the mood down. Sorry. Your mother and sister sound like fun.”
“It’s okay, Jake,” you comfort the older boy. “And yes. They’re very fun to be around. I can’t wait to spend winter break with them.”
“Right, winter break is next week.” Jake hunches back over. “I have to spend Christmas with my family. It’s not gonna be fun, especially since everyone has caught wind of our relationship.”
“You can do this, Jake,” you tell him with an encouraging grin, “If you need to escape though, call me and I’ll pretend to be having a meltdown so you can come over to mine for some reprieve. We usually watch all the Santa Clause movies after our Christmas dinner.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jake says, “are you hungry?”
You nod your head. “I was about to ask you if you wanted to take me to get some churros.”
“Right!” Jake stands as you begin to pack up your things. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for your bank details. I need to pay you.”
You look at Jake and frown. “I don’t want your money, Jake, seriously. It’s okay to not pay me.”
Jake shakes his head. “I feel bad for using you like this, though, Y/N. Please let me pay you, it’ll help ease my guilty consciousness for getting you involved in this mess.”
You sigh. “Fine. But I’m moving all the money you give me to a different account and not spending a single dollar.”
“That’s fine, as long as I’m able to pay you.”
After zipping up your bag, you pull out your phone and give Jake your bank details. “Now that that’s finished, I have something to tell you,” You step out of the study room with Jake trailing behind you. You let Jake fall into step beside you, and reach for his hand. “I’m thinking of making you a playlist to play whenever you drive me around because I’m planning on taking advantage of having you at my mercy.”
Jake smiles down at you. There’s a hint of fondness hidden in that smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Y/N. What songs were you thinking of putting on the playlist?”
“I’m keeping Justin Bieber off,” you retort jokingly.
Jake gasps and wretches his hand out of yours. You giggle and pout, reaching for Jake’s hand. “I was joking! You’re such a baby, Jakey poo.” You reach up to pinch his cheeks and Jake bats your hand away, intertwining your hands back together instead.
“It’ll be a surprise,” you tell Jake as the elevator doors open. “But I’m making sure it’s songs that both of us will enjoy because I’m such a great girlfriend.”
Jake rolls his eyes, but his smile gives away his fondness. “Of course you are, baby.” His eyes light up as if a light bulb went off above his head. “By the way, happy one week!” He kisses your cheek.
You roll your eyes. “Sap.”
“Only for you,” Jake responds.
—-
A few days later, you’re staring at a large frat. It’s your first time seeing the Enhypen frat up close during the daytime. You wouldn’t even be able to tell Enhypen throws massive raging parties from judging the outside appearance of the frat. The grass is neatly cut, and the bushes growing around the perimeter are groomed to near perfection. Someone obviously has a bit of a green thumb in the frat.
You walk up the porch steps and knock on the bright red door that feels rough beneath your knuckles. It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Jungwon Yang. You know quite a bit about Jungwon Yang, since Wonyoung grew up with Jungwon and you’re Wonyoung’s best friend. It surprises you how many mutual friends you and Jungwon share, yet you’ve never once spoken to him.
“Hey, Y/N,” Jungwon greets, pulling the door open wider to allow you in. “Jake’s in his room.”
“Hey, Jungwon,” you greet back, letting the boy shut the door behind you. You slide off your shoes and straighten up. “Where is Jake’s room?”
“I’ll show you. How are your classes going?” Jungwon makes conversation as he leads you through the spacious frat. It’s clear to you that this is a legacy frat. Everything screams wealth. You feel sorely out of place, but you’ll prefer to keep these thoughts to yourself.
“They’re going good. A lot of work, but I like it. It keeps me busy.”
“I’ve never been this busy,” Jungwon says with a small smile. He climbs the stairs, you following closely behind. “Didn’t you go to Jake’s room during the last party?”
“I don’t remember,” you admit sheepishly. “That whole night feels like a fever dream. I was really nervous the entire time.”
Jungwon nods his head. “You know, from what Won told me about you, I never expected you and Jake to date. You two seem like total opposites. I hope you don’t take offense.”
“None taken,” you tell Jungwon. “And I have to admit, I felt the same way, but somehow the words ring true; opposites do attract. We work well with each other.” You don’t know where this load of bullshit was coming from, but anything to make Jungwon believe what you have with Jake is real.
The door to the bathroom swings open and Sunoo Kim steps out. Your heart pounds in your ears as Sunoo’s sharp eyes latch onto your figure. The older boy genuinely intimidates you. His facial features are incredibly sharp, and his words are even sharper. He holds grudges for a long time, and he’s a known gossiper. Sunoo’s reputation across campus is an intimidating one, but you also know from Wonyoung that he’s one of the nicest, kindest, and cutest boys she knows. “Don’t let his resting bitch face scare you,” Wonyoung advised. “He’s just fiercely loyal and protective of his friends, that’s why he has that reputation.”
“Hello, Y/N,” Sunoo says.
“Hey, Sunoo.” Your hands begin to sweat. God, sorry Wonyoung, you think. But Sunoo scares me.
“Here to see Jake?” Sunoo asks you, not unkindly.
You nod your head. “He invited me over to study. I have a test tomorrow.”
“I don’t think you’ll get much studying done with Jake,” Sunoo states, and once again, he wasn’t being mean or judgy. It just seems like a simple observational statement -- he knows Jake better than you, having grown up with the older boy. “Keep the noise down.”
Your cheeks flush and Jungwon snorts. “No need to be so bitchy, Sunoo.”
“Sunghoon used up all my face wash,” Sunoo groans, his face transforming into a pout you’ve never seen the boy wear. He looks extremely soft and squishable and Wonyoung’s words about Sunoo bounce around your head. Maybe you truly don’t have a reason to be so afraid of the older boy.
Immediately, your hand goes for the shoulder bag you were carrying, and you pull out the newly bought face wash that was haphazardly lying about. “Here,” you hold out your face wash. “Take this.”
Sunoo stares at your outstretched hand. “We use the same face wash brand! Do you just carry your face wash around with you everywhere?” Sunoo’s gaze pierces your soul and you immediately flush bright red. You really need to get your blushing situation under control.
“I -- I don’t carry it around with me. I just stopped by the quick mart on the way here to buy it since I had run out of it. But here, you can take it. I’ll just buy another on my way home.”
“Really?” Sunoo asks.
“Yes,” you shake the face wash in the air. “Take it.”
Sunoo’s face splits into a grin, completely transforming all his sharp edges into soft edges. Sunoo’s truly a different person when he smiles. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re very kind.”
“It’s nothing,” you mumble.
A door at the end of the hall is wrenched open and Jake pops his head out, eyes focusing on the group of three standing around the bathroom. “What’s taking you so long?” Jake groans. “I miss my girlfriend. Stop hogging her.”
“Whatever Jake,” Sunoo scoffs. He steps back into the bathroom. “I hope to see you around often, Y/N,” Sunoo tells you with a smile, and then he shuts the bathroom door.
“There’s Jake’s room,” Jungwon tells you, pointing to Jake. “Play some music if you’re going to do something other than studying.” Jungwon leaves you a blushing mess in the middle of the hallway.
“Y/N!” Jake calls, beckoning you over eagerly.
With quick steps, you reach Jake in milliseconds. Jake grins down at you and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Pulling away, you look at Jake with a frown. “What was that for? There’s no one around.”
Jake pulls you into his room in lieu of an answer, shutting the door with a thump. “Was Sunoo nice to you?”
You nod your head and drop your shoulder bag onto Jake’s desk. “I gave him my face wash. I think I scored some points with him for that.”
“You had face wash in your bag?” Jake asks, grabbing his football and leaping onto his bed, beginning to throw the football up into the air and catching it.
“I bought some on the way over. I was running out,” you answer, pulling out the chair at Jake’s desk and taking a seat. “Are you going to study?”
“Eventually,” Jake responds. “Did you finish making that playlist?” He pushes himself into a sitting position, gripping the football tightly and displaying an excited expression on his face.
You can’t help but smile. “I did. Want to see?”
Jake nods his head, his blond hair flopping messily. You pull out your phone, unlock it and pull up the Spotify playlist, handing your phone over to Jake. “You can scroll through as I study,” you tell Jake. “Let me know what you think. I added a lot of songs.”
“Woah. Forty-eight hours,” Jake looks at you. “That is a lot of songs.”
You grin, running a hand through your hair to tie it up. “I guess that means you’re legally obliged to hang out with me for forty-eight hours.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Jake grins back.
Silence embraces the room and for once, it’s not awkward. You easily get enraptured in your studying, hearing Jake ooh or ahh or let out a small giggle as he scrolls through the playlist you made solely for Jake to play whenever you’re in the car with him.
After some time, Jake finally speaks up. “I really like the playlist, Y/N.”
You spin around in Jake’s desk chair. “Really?”
Jake nods his head. “I can’t wait to play it.”
“I’m glad. It took me a couple of days to curate. I’m happy you like it.”
“Of course, you made it, Y/N, so that means I’ll like it instantly.”
You groan and fall back into the desk chair. “Shut the fuck up, Jake.” Your tone was clearly teasing, and you’re glad Jake is able to make out the teasing because he laughs loudly.
“Was Jungwon nice to you as well?” Jake asks as he places your phone back on his desk. “Because sometimes he says shit without realizing how harsh it is.”
“He was nice as well, no need to fret, Jake. If they’re your friends I like them immediately.”
As you wait for Jake’s response, a loud banging sound floats through the air, followed by someone shouting a familiar name. “HEESEUNG!” Someone shouts after banging loudly. It’s quiet for a few seconds before the banging and shouting start again.
Jake groans and you leap up to open his door, curious to see who was making a ruckus. You scan the hallway and catch sight of a young boy who was incredibly tall. His blond hair glows brightly and he has a baseball bat and glove tucked beneath the arm that wasn’t doing the knocking.
“Cut it out, Riki,” Jake groans exasperatedly.
“No. He didn’t show up to play baseball with me,” Riki grumbles, continuing to smack the door.
“He spent his entire night revising his thesis with Jeongin and Beomgyu,” Jake responds. “Let him rest.”
Riki finally looks over at Jake, ready to respond, but when he sees you everything seems to pause. Riki stops smacking the door and the words poised at the tip of his tongue slide off. “Woah, is that Y/N? Your girlfriend?” He squints and assesses you. “You could do better than Jake, you know, Y/N.”
“Riki you better shut the fuck up,” Jake threatens.
“You play baseball?” You ask Riki.
“What does it look like?” Riki responds snappily.
“Riki,” hisses Jake.
“Yes,” Riki responds, his tone much nicer albeit exaggerating for Jake’s sake. “I play baseball.”
“That’s cool. Could I play with you?”
“What?” Riki looks bemused like he’d never thought you would offer to play baseball with him.
“Heeseung’s obviously sleeping and you probably shouldn’t disturb him because writing a thesis is hell on earth, so why not play catch with me? I used to play softball for my high school.”
“Softball and baseball are different, though,” Riki deadpans.
“Not really,” you shrug, stepping out of Jake’s room. “The only differences are the gloves, balls, bats, and how you throw the pitches. Other than that, everything is the same. In fact, I used to play baseball with the kids in my neighborhood, and with my cousins whenever I hung out with my family.”
“But you don’t have a glove.”
“I do,” Jake says. “Just play with her, Riki.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll head to the baseball pitch.” Riki slinks down the stairs and you pop back into Jake’s room, watching the older boy rummage around for his baseball glove.
“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” Jake tells you.
“I want to,” you reply, “if it gives Heeseung more time to rest and keeps Riki distracted -- by the way who even is Riki?”
Jake finds his baseball glove with a triumphant smile. He chucks it to you as he says, “Some kid we picked up off the street. You better hurry downstairs, Riki doesn’t like to be kept waiting. He’s very impatient.” Then, with a shake of his head, Jake mutters, “Teenagers.”
“Aren’t you gonna come down?” You ask Jake. “It would be nice to have you with us.”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to find my cap.”
“Alright, see ya soon baby,” you salute Jake and walk out of his room, bounding down the stairs and finding Rik waiting for you. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” you tell the boy, hurriedly slipping on your shoes.
Riki shrugs. “It’s fine.”
You step out of the house and walk to the baseball pitch in silence. You find out the baseball pitch is only a few minutes away from the Enhypen frat. It was built next to a park, so there were a few kids playing on the playground.
“You’re Jake’s new girlfriend, huh?” Riki finally says something as you both warm up. You don’t know how you’re going to play baseball with Riki, so you just follow whatever warm-ups he does.
“Yeah,” you respond. “And you’re his friend?”
“Obviously.”
“How old are you?”
“I turned eighteen last week on Friday.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh shit, Jake and I went out last Friday. Sorry for stealing him from you.”
Riki shrugs. “It’s chill. We hung out before and after his date.” You lapse into silence once more. “I like you better than his previous girlfriend,” Riki takes you by surprise as he grabs his bat and practices swinging a few times. “She was really rude. You’re not rude.”
“Thank you?”
“She never played baseball. Always said it would ruin her manicure.” He glances at your nails. “Aren’t you afraid of ruining your manicure?”
“I’m going to my nail tech next week. I don’t really care. Plus it gets tiring wiping your ass with a manicure sometimes.”
Riki stares at you and you immediately regret saying what you said seconds ago. Riki snorts, “You’re so much better than Francesa. She hated it when we would have farting contests.”
You stare at Riki in disbelief. This kid you think. “You’re still in high school aren’t you?”
“What gave it away?” Riki asks.
“You’re still having fart contests.”
Riki scowls.
—-
“Do you have to throw a party for literally every single accomplishment?” You ask Jake, finding yourself back at Enhypen on a Saturday night. Wonyoung was dancing with Sunghoon on the dance floor while you and Jake rested against one of the walls, observing the party.
“Throwing parties is fun, Y/N,” Jake responds. “Especially if you’re celebrating the end of exam week and the start of winter break.”
“I guess celebrating the end of exam week is worth throwing a party.” You sip the alcoholic drink Jake got for you, and watch as Wonyoung laughs over something Sunghoon said. “Wanna go to your room?”
Jake raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes. “You look tired, Jake, and you aren’t engaging in conversations like you usually do at parties. Let’s just go to your room to talk for a bit.”
“Alright,” Jake shrugs, taking your hand and pulling you up the stairs. You ignore the looks that are being thrown your way. Not everything is about getting laid.
Entering Jake’s bedroom, some sense of comfort embraces you and you feel relieved at the sudden change in environment. Everything feels much nicer in Jake’s room, even if you could still hear the music, albeit muffled.
“What did you want to talk about?” Jake asks, as you both peel off your shoes and slip beneath his light blue comforter, legs immediately tangling beneath it.
“Tell me about your childhood,” you answer. “You haven’t really told me anything.”
“Of course. You’ll tell me about yours after?”
“Any questions you have, I’ll answer honestly,” you grin.
“I would say my childhood was like any other, but I was born into a wealthy family with a trust fund already waiting for me when I turned eighteen,” Jake starts off, making you giggle lightly. “I don’t necessarily have a lot of happy memories of my childhood. But the ones I have only mostly involve my older brother, Jaehyun.”
“What’s your happiest memory with him?”
“Probably when I was six and he was ten, our nanny took us down to the beach. I remember staying at the beach for hours at a time whenever we went. There was also this small forest of trees a little bit further down the beach, and my brother and I would always explore in the small forest, picking up sticks and pretending to hunt down aliens that were planning to take over the world. Time always slipped away from us.”
You watch as Jake floats away from you. It’s like he’s in a different dimension as he recites this story to you, a gentle, happy look you’ve never seen appearing on his face.
“And this one time, it started to rain while my brother and I were playing in this forest, and we got lost. My brother found us some shelter under this large tree, and I started freaking out but my brother comforted me. He told me that he was going to take care of me, no matter what. I stopped crying after that and trusted everything my brother told me and we eventually made it out of the forest. My nanny was worried sick about us, and we never went back to that beach.”
Jake is brought back to you and smiles. “We were lost for fifteen minutes, Y/N, and for ten of those minutes, I was genuinely happy because I had my brother with me, guiding me through life. Jaehyun has always wanted the best for me and has always supported me in all of my endeavors. I don’t have a lot of people like him in my life.”
“That’s really sweet, Jake, I’m glad you have someone like that in your life.”
“Anything else you want to know, Y/N?” Jake asks.
“How did you meet the boys in Enhypen? Did you know any of them before coming to college?”
Jake laughs. “Obviously it’ll take us days for me to explain my close relationship with all thirty of us, but I’ll tell you about my closest friends. The ones you’ve met already.”
“I love a good story,” you say eagerly, pulling the comforter up higher.
“I grew up with Jay and Sunghoon. Our families were closely intertwined, so it just made sense for us to grow up together. They’re like my brothers. I met Heeseung and Sunoo in elementary school. I had heard a lot about Heeseung from Jay since they’re like, distantly related or something, and Sunoo was a friend Sunghoon made while learning how to figure skate. I got along well with them as well, so we all began hanging out. I met Jungwon and Riki in middle school. Riki is the son of one of Jay’s dad’s business partners in Japan. He came to Korea during the summer and stayed with Jay. He eventually applied for a transfer program when he was sixteen, so that’s why he’s around now. Jungwon is just some kid Jay latched on to during Taekwondo practice and never let go.”
“That sounds a lot like a found family novel I would find in a library,” you tease. “But it’s really sweet how you all found each other.”
“I guess it is. They’re my lifelong brothers. But, enough about me. What about you, Y/N? What was your childhood like?”
“It was normal,” you reply, teasing Jake who rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, which I was fine with. I liked being left alone. I think I was just scared of making friends because they might leave me like my father did. But, I don’t feel that way anymore. I’ve made a lot of friends since arriving at college.”
“What’s your happiest memory?”
“Right now, my happiest memory is meeting Wonyoung for the first time,” you tell Jake. “I was so scared moving out of home, and I was scared that I wouldn’t…experience the world my mom talked about whenever she brought up her college years, but I met Wonyoung during move-in day, and I think my life has changed.” You nudge Jake’s shoulder, “you know, if I hadn’t met Wonyoung, I don’t think we would’ve met.”
“Crazy how the world works,” Jake says.
“Very crazy,” you agree. “Did you sleep with plushies when you were younger?”
Jake shakes his head. “Nah, did you?”
A timid smile spreads across your face. “Yeah. I slept with a lot of plushies. I guess I just liked having something to hug and keep me warm while I slept.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” Jake coos, pinching your nose.
“Fuck off, Jake.”
There’s a long silence before Jake starts to talk again. “You know, we’ve known each other for a week and I’ve told you more about myself than most people close to me know.”
You look at Jake in surprise. “Really?”
Jake nods his head. “It’s...easy talking to you, Y/N.”
“I could say the same about you,” you murmur.
“I guess,” Jake starts slowly, leaning forward, his hand cupping your cheek, “we were meant to meet.” His lips are a whisper away from yours. “It’s our fate.” And then he’s kissing you. It’s a gentle kiss, a kiss unlike any you’ve had before. Jake doesn’t make any move to rush the kiss, and you don’t either. You’re both perfectly content to take your time kissing each other.
Jake breaks away and shifts your positioning so you’re half on top of him. He cups your cheek again, pulling you back in for a soft kiss, while his other arm wraps around your waist. Both of your hands are threaded through Jake’s hair, and all you can hear is Little Mix’s Love Me Like You.
—-
The cold of the ice rink hits you suddenly. A chill zips up your spine, and you grip Jake’s hand tighter. It was the first day of winter break, and you and Jake were on a double date with Yunjin and Heeseung. You’d all agreed to go ice skating for the date.
“When was the last time you went ice skating, Y/N?” Yunjin makes conversation as Jake and Heeseung talk about some Pokemon game they had played recently. Yunjin looked pretty today. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, with a few strands curling around her face, and her makeup was light. She was wearing cute pink leg warmers that you eyed with envy.
“Probably when I was…fifteen? I think we went ice skating for a school trip,” you respond. “What about you? When was the last time you went ice skating?”
“A couple weeks back,” Yunjin says smiling. “Heeseung likes to ice skate so we often swing by when we have nothing to do.”
“You’re probably really good then.”
Yunjin laughs. “I’m mediocre at best. Heeseung’s really good though. But, then again, Heeseung’s good at everything.”
“Talking shit about Heeseung again, Yunjin?” Jake asks, joining in on the conversation.
“Yes, because that’s all I do, Jake,” Yunjin retorts sardonically.
“Do you know what size skates you wear, baby?” Jake directs his attention on you, his nose a light red already.
“Um, maybe a six?”
“Woah, you have small hands and feet,” Jake exclaims.
“Rude,” you whack Jake’s chest with your free hand.
“No, it’s cute,” Jake says with a small smile. “You’re super cute, Y/N.” He kisses the tip of your nose and lets go of your hand. “I’ll go with Heeseung to get your skates. Go find us a place to sit.”
Yunjin snakes her arm around yours and pulls you away from Jake, laughing loudly at something Heeseung had whispered to her.
“You and Jake are so cute,” Yunjin says when you finally lay claim on a row of chairs. “You’ve only been dating for what? Two weeks? And you’re already this cute?” Yunjin sighs, “The honeymoon phase is the best part of a relationship. Hee and I have been dating for…woah has it been two years already? We’ve been dating for two years and I don’t think we’ve left the honeymoon stage yet.”
“Yeah,” you agree, not really knowing what else to say.
“How did you meet Jake again?”
“Oh, at one of Enhypen’s parties. We both had shitty nights -- I had a failed date and Jake got accused of giving someone chlamydia -- and we comforted each other. Jake likes to say we had an immediate connection, so he wasted no time in asking me out.”
“Aww,” Yunjin coos, “love at first sight! I wish I got to experience that. Heeseung held a grudge against me for the longest time before he ever admitted his feelings to me.”
“Heeseung holds grudges?” You were pleasantly surprised. “He doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges.”
“I was a special case, apparently,” Yunjin jokes. “But really, Heeseung’s the sweetest, most romantic guy I’ve ever dated.” Her eyes dart over your shoulder, and her grin only gets wider. “Jake’s a really good guy too, if you give him a chance.” She looks back at you and reaches out to squeeze your shoulder. “And it looks like you are giving him a chance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy.”
You don’t have time to respond, because Jake takes a seat beside you, dumping your skates onto your lap. “Here you go. Do I get a thank you kiss?”
“If you insist,” you grumble, leaning forward to lay a quick peck on Jake’s lips. “Now help me put them on.”
Yunjin and Heeseung head onto the ice first, leaving you alone with Jake as he laces up his skates after helping you. You nudge Jake’s knee with your own, a sly smile slipping onto your face. “We have a love at first sight story, huh? Does this mean you loove me?”
“Damn,” Jake curses, “how did you find out? Was it that easy to tell?” A smile that matches the one you are wearing slips onto Jake’s face. “Jungwon told me I was being too obvious.”
You snicker and wrap your hands around Jake’s bicep, inching forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “Well, there’s no need to be nervous, Jake, because I love you too, my sweet sugar plum.”
“Sweet sugar plum? Where did that come from?”
“You don’t like it?” You ask, pouting slightly.
“I hate it.”
You turn your head to muffle your giggles against Jake’s shoulder.
“Y/N, you know I won’t leave you, right?” Jake asks in a soft tone.
“Hmm? Where did this come from, Jake?” You pull your head away from Jake’s shoulder to look at him.
“I was just thinking about what you told me on Saturday,” Jake admits. “I’m not gonna leave you, Y/N.”
“Even after our break up?” You don’t like how insecure you sound. “We’ll still be friends after our break up?”
Jake nods his head. “Of course.”
You smile, kissing Jake’s cheek. “Great. Let’s go skating now, Jakey, I need an excuse to hold your hand for a few hours.”
Jake lets you pull him up from the chair. “You could just ask to hold my hand, Y/N.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” You reply, grinning eagerly.
—-
“Why are we carving pumpkins, again?” You ask your sister. It was Christmas Eve and you were sitting at the dining table with a large pumpkin parked in front of you. Your younger sister was sitting next to you, tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on carving her pumpkin.
“Because you weren’t home for Halloween,” your sister responds, not taking her eyes off her pumpkin.
“Halloween was three months ago, Mye. It’s Christmas Eve, shouldn’t we be helping Mama in the kitchen?”
“We are!” Myeong refutes. “We’re making decorations!”
You throw Myeong a pointed look. “Carving pumpkins? For Christmas decorations?”
Myeong scowls. “No need to be such a grinch, Y/N. Sorry I missed carving pumpkins with you.”
You sigh and place down your scalp. “I missed carving pumpkins with you too, Myeong.”
Your younger sister turns to you, her eyes soft and wide. She reminds you of a baby deer. “Really?”
You nod your head and Myeong breaks out into a grin, throwing her arms around you and hugging you tightly. “It feels so lonely at home without you, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re back home for winter break.”
You hug your sister back tighter. “Me too. I missed you and Mama a lot. Especially her food. I mostly eat ramen and toast.”
Your sister giggles and draws out of the hug and starts to carve her pumpkin again. “What is college like, Y/N? Have you made any friends?’ Myeong wiggles her eyebrows, “Have you gotten a boyfriend?”
You snort. “A boyfriend?” You try to ignore your cheeks heating up. “Are you crazy, Myeong? I have no time for a boyfriend. I did make some friends, though.”
“Oh yes, that Wonyoung Jang girl?”
“How do you know about her?”
“You posted her on your Instagram story a couple of times, Y/N,” your sister deadpans, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, right. But yeah, Wonyoung’s my friend. And all her friends are my friends as well.” You don’t know why your chest swells with pride when you mention your friends. “I have a large friend group, Mye.”
Myeong smiles. She looks genuinely happy for you. “I’m glad, Y/N.”
You turn back to your pumpkin and continue to carve in silence. Your mother was in the kitchen, humming away to whatever song was on the radio as she baked some Christmas cookies. The warm cheer of Christmas wraps you up warmly. You were happy to be back home with your mother and sister, carving a pumpkin while your mother made cookies a few feet away. You were afraid leaving for college would change everything, but it had changed nothing.
“But, seriously Y/N,” Myeong breaks the silence, “you have had to at least kiss a guy at one of the parties you went to with Wonyoung!”
“Well, I did,” You drop your voice and lean in closer. “Lose my virginity.”
Myeong gasps loudly, your mother looking up from where she was placing cookie dough on a tray. “Everything okay, girls?”
“Yes,” you say, smiling. You look at Myeong who was staring at you, completely taken by surprise at your confession.
“Really?”
You nod your head.
“What was it like?”
You blush and bury your head in your hands. “Myeong -- why -- why would you ask me that?”
Myeong shrugs. “Curiosity.”
“It was fine,” you grumble. “It was just a hook-up, though, and I haven’t had sex since then.”
Myeong pouts. “You’re no fun.”
“No, I’m just choosing to be safe. College parties are swarming with STDs.” Your phone begins to ring loudly, cutting off your mother’s humming and Myeong’s words. You steal a glance at who was calling you -- Jake’s contact name fills your screen and you can’t control the large smile that graces your face.
“I’ll be back,” you tell Myeong. “I have to take this.” Grabbing your phone, you exit the dining room and start up the stairs to your room. “Hey,” you greet Jake, pressing your phone to your ear. “What’s up?”
“Y/N, hey,” Jake’s voice is soft as he talks. “How are you?”
“I’m doing good. What about you?”
Jake sighs. “Well, I would like to leave, but I promised my mom and dad that I would stay for their Christmas dinner and I like to keep my promises, so.” If Jake were standing in front of you now, he would end his sentence with a shrug. Instead, he punctuates this sentence with another sigh.
“That sucks,” you murmur, shutting your bedroom door, and resting against it. “What is so awful about this Christmas dinner anyway?”
“It’s not really a Christmas dinner,” Jake explains. “It’s a business dinner, under the guise of a company Christmas dinner. My dad’s investors bring their families to our house for this Christmas dinner, but all they do is talk business while their wives make small talk and the kids sit at the table and eat in silence. Jay used to come, but his father wised up and decided to go on vacation during Christmas, which upset my father for a few years.”
“That is awful.”
“But it’s only for one night,” Jake sounds defeated. “What about you? What do you do for Christmas?”
“Not a lot,” you tell Jake. And it was true -- your family didn’t do a lot for Christmas. You all woke up quite late on Christmas since you and Myeong were no longer kids and the thrill of opening presents was slowly wearing off. Your mother made some pancakes for breakfast, and then the three of you headed down to afternoon mass. You weren’t religious, but your mother liked going so you and your sister accompanied her. You know how often your mother used to pray back when you were younger and she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her family afloat.
After mass, you would stop by a few shops to just pick up extra miscellaneous items. Then your mother would begin Christmas dinner prep and your relatives from your mother’s side would start turning up as soon as it hits 4 PM. They usually stay as late as midnight.
“That sounds….a lot more fun than my Christmas,” Jake laughs softly.
“It is fun,” you reply, laying down on your bed and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars you and Myeong stuck on your ceiling years ago. “After dessert, we all watch The Santa Clause trilogy.”
“I remember you telling me about that,” Jake hums. “I’ve never seen those movies, what are they about?”
“I don’t want to spoil anything, Jake,” you tease. “We’ll just have to watch them together at some point.”
“I’ll take you up on that, Y/N,” Jake’s tone was just as teasing. “I should let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before I called. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went insane inside this house.”
“Call me whenever Jake. I’ll always pick up.”
“Okay, I will. Talk later, Y/N.”
“Bye, Jake.”
—-
It was a little past eight when Jake calls you again. It’s Christmas, and you’re sitting at the dining table with your relatives. Dinner was served a couple of hours ago, but the conversation at the table was too good for anybody to think about cleaning up the mess displayed in front of you.
Your Uncle and Aunts were still helping themselves to the last bits of your mom’s lasagna. Dessert still had to be served, and your mother was looking for a way out of the conversation she was having with your grandmother.
Your phone cuts through the conversation you were having with your cousin.
“Who’s calling you, Y/N?” Your cousin, Lila, asks, trying to take a peek at your phone.
“Oh, it’s no one. I’ll be right back,” you sneak out of the dining hall and down to your bedroom. “Jake, hey.”
“Y/N, sorry if I disturbed you from your movie watching,” Jake greets.
“No, we’re still eating,” you assure Jake. “What’s up?”
“I-- I was wondering -- ah fuck, I don’t know how to ask this,” Jake admits.
“Just ask,” you encourage. “It’s okay, Jake. It’s just me.”
“Do you think I could come over? To your house?”
“Oh, Jake.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to say yes. I’m sorry for asking, I just can’t be here. I just can’t do it. No one else would pick up. I’m sorry for asking, Y/N.”
“It’s okay, Jake. And you’re more than welcome to come over. My mama feeds all my friends that set foot in this house. I’ll send you my address.” Your heart hurts for Jake. You can’t imagine how awful it must be for Jake to be in a house that doesn’t feel like home.
“Thank you, Y/N. Really.”
“Don’t mention it. Just arrive safely, ok? And text me when you’re leaving.”
“Okay. See you soon, Y/N.” The line goes dead before you can respond. You share your location with Jake, and pocket your phone, padding back downstairs to the dining room. Your mother had finally been able to leave the conversation with your grandmother and was now in the kitchen, dumping empty plates in the sink and fixing dessert onto fresh, clean, plates.
“Mama,” you step into the kitchen, keeping your voice low. “My friend from college is coming over. I hope that’s okay, he needed -- he needed to get away from his family for a while.”
“What’s his name?” Your mother asks, looking up from where she was plating the Christmas cookies she had made while you were carving the pumpkins.
“Jake Sim. He’s…my friend.”
“Jake Sim? Does he have any relations with Hana and Jaeho Sim? The CEO of Sim Corporations?”
You smile wanly. “They’re his parents, mama.”
“Then, he’s more than welcome inside my house, Y/N. I went to school with his parents, I know how tough they can be.” Your mother shakes her head. “They were both forces to be reckoned with at college.”
“You knew them?” You ask, surprised.
“Of course, I know them, Y/N. Everyone knew everybody back then. Should I set out a plate for him at the table?”
You look at the already crowded table. Myeong laughs loudly with one of your aunts. “Do we even have room for another chair?”
“We can make room,” your mother answers with a sly smile. “Do you know if he’s had dinner yet? Because I don’t want to just serve him dessert while he’s here.”
“Uh, I’ll ask him when he gets here.” Your phone dings with a text. You had two unread texts, both from Jake. One was sent eight minutes ago, telling you he’s left. The most recent one was Jake telling you he’d just parked. You wonder how close Jake lived if he was only an eight-minute drive away.
“He’s here,” you tell your mom, just as there’s a knock at the door.
“Go answer, I’ll make some room.”
You nod your head and turn away, eyes widening as Myeong rises from her chair. “I’ll get it!” You shriek, dashing out of the kitchen and down to the door. You throw the door open and your eyes widen at the sight of Jake.
“Y/N, hey,” Jake grins.
“Jake -- your -- your hair.”
It was black. His hair was black. You struggle to organize your thoughts as your eyes drag down the rest of his body. Jake was clearly dressed up for some formal event. He was wearing blue jeans with a white buttoned-up blouse tucked in, accentuating his waist, and a navy blue blazer.
“Decided to go back to black,” Jake answers with a grin. “Maintaining my blonde hair was tiring.” He peers over your shoulder. “Can I come in? Or did your mother --”
You shush Jake and step onto the porch, letting the front door fall shut. “No, you’re welcome in. I just -- I told them we were friends. They don’t know we’re….y’know? It just -- it just gets tiring lying all the time, and I don’t like lying to my mama and Myeong and --”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jake cuts you off. “I think it’ll be nice to not have to act like we’re dating for once.”
“Okay,” you smile relieved. “My mama knew your parents in college.”
“Really?” Jake asks.
“Yeah, she was more than willing to let you spend Christmas with us.”
“I already love your mom.”
“Alright, come on in, Prince Charming. Ready to meet my family?”
Jake adjusts his blazer and you have to pretend like your heart didn’t speed up. “I was born ready,” and for the final kill, he runs a hand through his hair. You almost faint on the spot. Since when was Jake this attractive to you? I mean, obviously, he was handsome, but you’ve never felt your heart palpitate like this before.
You’ve never seen your family so still and silent the moment you step into their line of sight with Jake. “Is that your boyfriend, Y/N?” One of your cousins teases you, earning a couple of snickers from your other cousins.
“Uh, no. This is Jake Sim. He’s my -- my friend from college. His parents are overseas at the moment, so I invited him over for dinner. Sorry he’s late, you know how assessments get during winter break.”
“He’s very handsome, Y/N. Are you sure you’re just friends?” One of your aunts asks, out of pure curiosity.
You flush bright red. “Aunty!”
“It was just an innocent question, dear,” your uncle, and her husband, defends. “Come join us, Jake. Have you had dinner yet?”
Jake smiles politely, taking a seat in the new chair that was beside yours. You steal a glance at your mother who smiles back smugly. “I have had dinner,” Jake responds. “My mom bought me some samgyeopsal before she left.” He plays along with the cover story you made up for him.
“Oh no, samgyeopsal won’t do you any good, honey,” your mother cuts in. “Do you like lasagna?”
“I love lasagna,” Jake responds, his eyes twinkling.
Your mother hpmhs, “You should have some of my lasagna. My lasagna is the best lasagna in all of America.”
“Too bad Aunt Yeeun ate it all,” snickers your cousin, Daisy.
“Too bad, indeed,” your mother says, glaring at her older sister.
Yeeun pokes out her tongue in retaliation, and the whole table dissolves into laughter. You glance at Jake, who stares back and smiles, his foot nudging yours beneath the table. “It’s okay, Mrs. L/N. I’m not that hungry anyway.”
“Call me Areum, honey,” your mother says, flushing. “And are you sure? I’m sure I could find something that wasn’t eaten by my good-for-nothing siblings.”
Grumbles are heard but your mother pays no attention to them. “If I can’t find anything, then I’ll have to serve you dessert. Will you be okay with eating my Christmas cookies? They won Y/N’s middle school’s Christmas fair baking competition three years in a row. However, when Myeong brought them to the fair, they decided that darn Dana’s cookies were better. I’m pretty sure the judges were being biased. Or racist --”
“I’m hungry,” Myeong interrupts, whining. “Fuss over Jake later! Let’s go serve everyone dessert now!” Myeong leaps out of her chair, sending you a look, before tugging on Areum’s arm. “Come on, mama! Jake can decide for himself if he wants to eat or not.”
Your mother sighs. “Alright. I’ll be back with dessert.”
The table launches into conversations with your mother gone, bombarding Jake with questions to which he answers all with ease. Beside you, Lila nudges you. “Was he the one who called you?”
You nod your head. “Yeah.”
Lila smirks. “Just friends, huh?”
You groan and kick her shin beneath the table. “Shut the fuck up.”
—-
The rest of dinner is spent happily. Jake easily converses with your relatives, and it seems like he gets along well with all of them. You hate the way your heart flutters at that thought. As Jake had said, it was almost like he was born to please your relatives, based on the way they smile whenever Jake responds to them with great enthusiasm.
Even your younger cousins enjoy Jake’s presence. He distracts them as the adults clean up and get ready for the movie marathon with pictures of his dog, Layla. He also plays them a couple of videos which gets your entire family cooing over the dog.
You sit in the corner of the living room, with a slight frown on your face. The older cousins were all hanging out together, thankful someone else was willingly distracting the younger ones. “Why the frown, Y/N?” Myeon asks you, drawing you out of your thoughts.
“Don’t worry,” you answer, schooling your expression into a neutral one.
“Jake Sim, he’s the son of that one CEO, right? Sim Corporations, or something?” One of your cousins, Daniel, asks.
“Yeah,” you nod your head.
“Damn,” whistles Daniel, “through Jake, you basically have connections to the entire corporate world, Y/N.”
“Good thing I’m not a business major,” you retort.
“But I will be next year,” Daniel responds. “Do you think --”
“If you want to use Jakes’s connections, you have to get buddy-buddy with him, Daniel. I’m not your lapdog.”
Daniel huffs. “Fine, loser.”
You grip the armchair pillow and whack Daniel with it. “I’m not a loser, freak.”
“Alright,” your uncle claps his hands loudly, “let’s get this marathon on the road! Adults, help yourself to some eggnog, minors, there’s some soda and juices for you. And yes, Daniel, we got you your gross dill pickle chips.”
Chaos descends as everyone fights for the best seats, the best drinks, and the best snacks. You’re content with staying in the armchair in the corner of the living room. It didn’t really give you the best view of the television, but you’ve seen these movies hundreds of times. You could practically recite every line of all three movies by heart.
Jake approaches you, holding two glasses of cola.
“Hey,” Jake greets, handing you one glass. “I feel like we haven’t had time to talk.”
“It seems my family is smitten with you, Jake.”
“I do seem to have that effect on everyone I meet,” Jake hums in agreement.
“Come on, let’s cuddle,” you say, pulling Jake onto the chair. “Unless you want to move closer. I know you wanted to watch these movies.”
“It’s okay,” Jake waves you off, “there’s always another Christmas to watch them with you.”
You ignore how your heart explodes, painting your body a lovesick pink.
After a lot of adjustments, you end up with your back pressed against the arm of the armchair, and your legs thrown over Jake’s lap. The first fifteen minutes of the movie had already gone by by the time you and Jake pay attention and instead of trying to catch Jake up, you ask him about his own Christmas dinner.
Jake told you it was the same Christmas dinner he’d been going to for twenty years, but it was the first time his older brother wasn’t there and Jake couldn’t handle not having his brother around, so he left.
“Thank you for having me,” Jake whispers.
“Thank you for trusting me,” you respond.
“How could I not?” Jake’s eyes were wide, “You have a trusting face.”
“Oh, so you’re friends with me for my face?” You scowl.
Jake muffles his giggles. “Yes.”
You huff and look away from Jake to watch Scott and Carol lean in to kiss beneath a mistletoe.
“Y/N,” Jake whispers. “I like you for your face and your heart.”
“Really?”
Jake nods. “Really.”
“Well, I like you for your money and your connections to the corporate world.”
“You don’t even major in business!”
“You don’t know that!”
“Y/N,” Jake gives you a pointed look and you sigh.
“Fine. I don’t like you because of your money or your connections, I like you because of your face and your heart.”
“Would you ever want to get married?”
You stare at Jake, shocked by the sudden change of topic. “What? Where did this come from, Jake?”
“My parents brought up marriage when they talked about our relationship. They said we shouldn’t date if we aren’t thinking about marriage.”
“Well, I mean,” you sigh, “if you ask nicely, then I’ll probably say yes.”
It’s silent for a few moments before Jake coughs loudly. You get stares from your sister and a few of your cousins, but you ignore them. “You -- you would want to marry me?”
“I mean --” you blink, confused. “That’s what we were talking about, right?”
“I was -- I was just asking if you want to get married. In general. Not to me.”
“Oh.” Your face flushes. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jake intertwines your hands together and squeezes three times. “You’re cute when you make mistakes.”
“Shut up,” you groan.
Jake laughs softly, his eyes shining with adoration.
—-
“Do you think I could stay the night?” Jake asks you after he finishes saying goodbye to all of your relatives. The goodbyes took longer than usual because everyone was clamoring to talk to Jake. You didn’t understand all the fuss over Jake.
“Stay -- stay the night?”
“Or not. It’s okay, Y/N.”
“No --”
“You’re more than welcome to stay the night, sweetheart,” your mother cuts. “You’ll just have to share a bed with Y/N, our guest room is a bit.. preoccupied. I’ve been cleaning out the attic.”
Jake looks over at you. “I’m okay with sharing a bed. Are you? If not, I can sleep on the floor or just go home.”
You eye your mom carefully. She’s never been this open and welcoming to a boy staying the night. In your bed. “Yeah…I’m fine with it.”
“Y/N and Jake sharing a bed!” Myeong sings in a teasing voice as she bounces up the stairs. “I’ll make sure to turn on my white noise!” Both you and Jake flush a deep red while your mother scolds Myeong for her words.
“I’ll go find you some clothes, Jake,” your mother smiles warmly at the boy beside you and disappears up the stairs, leaving you alone with Jake.
“Won’t your parents be concerned about your whereabouts?” You ask Jake, leading him into the kitchen.
“I told them I was at Sunghoon’s,” Jake answers, leaning against the counter as you fill two glasses with water. He gratefully takes one of the glasses and drinks it all within seconds. “They won’t really be worried that much. They’ve never been the kind of parents to worry.”
You give Jake a gentle look and take the empty glass from him, rinsing it and making room for it in the dishwasher. “Your family is very fun,” Jake says, “they all…love each other.”
“I guess they’re fun. They can be a bit annoying and frustrating at times.”
“But you love them, though.”
“They loved you tonight, Jake.” You tell him, sensing the underlying tone of Jake’s words. You reach out to take his hand into yours as you stand at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re probably welcome to all family gatherings in the future.”
“Really?” Jake asks in slight disbelief.
“Would I lie to you, Jake? Everyone loved you tonight.”
In the darkness of the living room, standing in silence, you can feel Jake. Jake is all over you. You feel as though you’re one with Jake, and everything you think, Jake is also thinking. You feel and hear every inhale and exhale of Jake’s.
With his other hand, Jake cups your cheek, and you immediately sink into the feeling. “Y/N,” it’s like Jake is feeling the same as you. He doesn’t dare to raise his voice. “I --”
“Jake, would you like to take a shower?” Your mother stands at the top of the stairs.
You rip yourself away from Jake, clenching and unclenching your hand as your mind races. “Oh, yes, that would be nice, Areum.”
“I’ll go get you a towel,” Areum smiles and turns back around, heading for the linen closet.
Jake turns to you. “Y/N --”
“You should go take a shower, Jake.”
Jake hesitates.
“I’ll see you in my room.” You don’t think you’ll be able to handle talking to Jake alone for the rest of the night. You climb the stairs with speed, leaving Jake in the dust. Reaching your room, you pull out your phone and fire a text to Wonyoung, your heart speeding, finally realizing why yourheart races around Jake.
By the time Jake finishes his shower and stands in the doorway of your room, you’re changed and separating the bed in two halves with pillows you stole from your mom. “What are you doing?” Jake asks you, drying his hair with a yellow towel.
“When we’re sleeping, we need to stay to our sides. We can’t cross the pillow line,” you explain to Jake, slipping beneath the covers on your side.
“Why do we need halves all of a sudden?” Jake asks, throwing his towel over your desk chair. “We’ve never had halves like this when we’ve laid in bed together.”
Your face flushes. “That’s -- that’s different.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Is it?”
You scowl. “My house, my bedroom, my rules.”
Jake climbs into bed, making sure to keep to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Jake gives you a sweet smile that disarms you completely.
“Fuck it,” you groan. You grab the pillows -- that had taken a lot of time to set up -- and you throw them to the ground. “I do like to cuddle things when I sleep, Jake. And since I removed my plushies for you to fit, I guess you could be a good substitute.”
Jake grins with a glint in his eyes that tells you he doesn’t believe your bluff. He opens his arms and you immediately curl up to his chest, your ear pressed to his chest, and there, you can hear his heartbeat. It’s beating rapidly and you allow your delusions to take over.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jake says, his voice close to your ear.
“Goodnight, Jake,” you mumble back.
—-
“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask Jake nervously as you sit in his car. A week after winter break ended, Jake had told you his parents wanted to meet you, and no matter how desperately you wanted to say no, you agreed to join Jake for dinner this weekend. You’re parked outside his parents’ house. It’s tall, and spiraling, and reminds you just how rich Jake was. You’re fretting over your look as if Jake hasn’t already complimented you a thousand times tonight. 
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” And, as always, Jake’s words of affection make you blush.
“Alright,” you say, “let’s do this.”
Jake nods and squeezes your hand before letting go.
“Remember,” Jake says in a low voice as you walk up to the front door, gravel crunching beneath the uncomfortable high-heels Wonyoung shoved you into, “we can leave. Whenever you want. We don’t have to stick around for the entire night, I’ll make up an excuse if you want to leave, okay?”
You kiss Jake’s cheek in lieu of a response.
Jake doesn’t bother to knock on the door, he just pushes it open. A multitude of shoes sit in the foyer, and you turn to Jake who is helping you take off your coat. “How big is this family dinner, exactly?”
Jake gives you a sheepish smile. “My parents, uncles and aunts, and cousins. I don’t know if Jaehyun will be here though.”
You can’t help but feel sorely underprepared for this. Why didn’t Jake let you know beforehand that you would be meeting his entire family? Your stomach rolls over at the thought, and you feel nausea wash over you. An uncomfortable itch appears in your throat -- no cough or clearing of a throat removes that itch as you walk from the foyer to the dining room where your demise awaits.
“You didn’t think to tell me?” You mumble to Jake, half anxious, half annoyed.
“It slipped my mind,” Jake murmurs back and you withhold a scoff.
You can’t help but feel intimidated as you enter the dining hall, gripping Jake’s hand tightly. His aunts, uncles, cousins, and parents mill about the room, talking and laughing forcefully with each other. The atmosphere doesn’t at all feel comfortable. It’s a weird atmosphere, it feels tense and taut.
Hyunjae is the first to spot Jake. He breaks out into a grin and approaches Jake, a girl with dyed red hair follows behind, her eyes glued to her phone as she frowns. Next to you, Jake inhales sharply and his shoulders roll back like he’s prepared for an attack.
“Jake,” Hyunjae greets, the smile not slipping from his face. He looks at you and his smile only grows. “Y/N. What a pleasure to see you both here.”
“The same can’t be said for you,” Jake responds, his voice tight.
The red-headed girl finally looks up, pocketing her phone and taking a sip of her champagne. “Jake,” her voice is soft, tinkling. You don’t think you’ve ever seen more perfect eyes, nose, and mouth on someone before. “Who are you?” She asks, out of pure curiosity. Her eyes shine and you try to search for some kind of double meaning.
“Y/N L/N,” you answer, feeling your heart tremble beneath the eyes pinned to your face. “Who are you?”
The girl laughs. It’s high and tinkling, like her voice. “I’m Francesa Choi, nice to meet you, Y/N.”
Jake’s ex-girlfriend.
“Jaeyun?” A voice calls out. You watch as an intimidating woman walks over to the group. Her eyes are piercing, and her hair is black as the night. It doesn’t take much for you to realize this woman is Jake’s mother. Lagging behind her is Jake’s father. Pepper hair, creased lines on his forehead, and a frown. You wonder how Jake is able to be who he is with parents like these.
“This must be the Y/N you talk highly of,” her eyes darted to you, and then back at Jake, like you weren’t worth her time. You try to pry your hand from Jake’s, but he only tightens his grip further. You're sure he’s cutting off blood to your hand.
Jake’s father watches you silently. He doesn’t say anything, remaining behind his wife as she does all the talking; all the commanding.
“Are you going to introduce us to her?”
Jake clears his throat. “Mom, Dad, this is Y/N L/N, Y/N, this is my mom and dad.”
Your mother’s words echo around your head. “Does he have any relations with Hana and Jaeho Sim? The CEO of Sim Corporations? I know how tough they can be. They were both forces to be reckoned with at college.”
Jake’s mother -- Hana -- gives you a short nod. “Nice to meet you, Y/N, I hope I get to know you well tonight.”
Not I hope we get to know each other well. You learn something about Hana Sim very early on. She’s the authorization figure of the Sim household. She expects you to tell her everything about you, and you get nothing in return.
Dinner is served, and with Jake to your left and his ex-girlfriend to your right, your nerves skyrocket. Jake’s ex-girlfriend is pretty -- she even smells pretty. No wonder Jake dated her. As the conversation is passed around the table, you also learn Francesa Choi is smart. She’s pretty, smart, and confident. It’s clear, by the way Hana praises and smiles at Francesa, that she’s thoroughly beguiled by the girl.
When Hana Sims speaks to you, though, it’s dull. Hana appears to look bored as she decides to make conversation with you, and for the first time that night, the table falls silent. Every Sim wants to know about you, apparently.
“How did you meet my son, Y/N?” Hana asks, picking up her wine glass.
“I told you how we met --”
“I want to hear her talk, Jaeyun,” Hana cuts off her son.
“We meet at a party,” you respond, hands curling on your lap beneath the table. Your nails dig into your palms to keep you grounded. “It was love at first sight.”
Any normal family would coo over love at first sight, but the Sim family only shares looks. Looks that are clearly laced with judgment. Beside you, Jake offers no help. He doesn’t even reach out to rest his hand on your thigh. You feel alone.
“Love at first sight?” Hana muses. “So, you love my son?”
It takes a lot of effort for you to breathe. Your chest feels heavy like there’s something crushing it. You steal a glance at Jake and he doesn’t look back, content with admiring his plate of food in front of him. Your heart pangs.
“Yes,” you say, willing the nerves out of your voice. “I love Jake.”
Hana doesn’t look impressed. “You’ve only been dating for a month.” That’s not a question -- it’s a statement. “How could you fall in love that fast?”
“He’s easy to love,” your response is almost instantaneous, your mouth working faster than your brain. Your response is honest. In a way. And that shocks and scares you.
Hana still doesn’t look impressed. “Tell me a bit about yourself, Y/N. What’s your major?”
“I’m Majoring in Linguistics. This is my first year.” Your nails dig deeper into your palms and Jake continues to offer no support.
“So you’re…eighteen? Nineteen?”
“Eighteen.”
Hana nods, reaching for her wine glass and taking a sip. The silence is suffocating. Just how nosey and judgmental was the Sim family?
“And your family?” Hana asks, “Any siblings?”
“I have a younger sister, Myeong.”
“And your parents?”
“My dad passed away when I was three, so it’s just been my mom, me, and Myeong for as long as I can remember.”
Hana’s eyes narrow. You gulp and your heart hammers away in your chest. You feel a bad omen circling the air. Whatever is said next will either be your downfall or finally impress Hana.
“Did your mom ever get remarried?”
You shake your head. “No.”
Words tumble out of Hana’s mouth, and it sounds like Korean. The ground gives out beneath your feet and your heart drops out of your body. You don’t know Korean. Your mother never had the time to teach you, and she slowly lost her mother tongue. Your father died when you were young. You grew up feeling isolated, not really understanding where you fit in; you were Korean, but you didn’t speak Korean, and you’ve never been to Korea. But you had an American citizenship, so you were American, except you didn’t look American.
“I -- I don’t know Korean,” the words tumble out of your mouth -- the words were the bad omen you felt in the air moments ago.
If possible, the silence is louder than before.
“You’re Korean,” Hana states, her voice a foreign emotion.
“My mom and dad were first-generation immigrants,” you answer, your nails beginning to cut into your palm. “But my dad died before he could teach me, and my mom was always busy with work.”
“Have you ever visited Korea?”
“No,” you respond, Hana’s eyes cutting into your bones.
“I pity you,” Hana says, her words sharp like claws. Her eyes dart to Jake, and this time her words sting. “I thought I taught you better.”
Jake’s silence stings even more.
You were able to excuse yourself to the bathroom after dinner. You grip the edge of the sink and squeeze your eyes shut tightly, suddenly longing for the embrace of your mother. Hana’s words, her eyes -- her everything has you a shuddering mess. Who knew someone could make simple words sound so cruel?
The door swings open and Francesa steps in. She smiles and steps up to the sink next to you, pulling out some lip glass from her handbag. You watch her as she applies another layer onto her lips.
“That was a hard conversation to listen to,” Francesa says, her eyes meeting yours through the mirror.
“Yeah,” you mumble, not really in the mood to talk.
“It takes a lot to impress Hana.”
“Clearly.”
Francesa pats your shoulder. “I’m sure you will find something to impress Hana with.” You don’t know why but it sounds so condescending. “But I’m not surprised to see Jake hasn’t changed.” Francesa laughs to herself, finding something funny.
“What are you laughing about?” You ask Francesa.
“When we were dating, I was exactly like you when meeting his family. He threw you in the deep end, didn’t he? Told you were meeting his parents, but actually took you to a family dinner? And when his mother was grilling me, he was silent -- just like tonight.” Francesa sighs, turning to you. “He doesn’t have the guts to talk back to his parents. His older brother did, and that’s why he’s not at family dinners anymore.”
“I just..” Francesa trails off. “I just hoped tonight would be different, you know? You and Jake…you guys look happy and in love and I just thought that this would be the night where Jake finally speaks up and does something about the way his mother treats people.”
Francesa shakes her head, giving you a small smile. “It’s a shame your love couldn’t change that.”
“Why would I need to change Jake?” You ask, frowning.
“Oh, Y/N.” Francesa sighs. “Whenever I would come for a family dinner, Jake would sit in silence and let Hana pick at me, probing me to reveal personal secrets and shame me for them. She wanted to mold me into the perfect wife for Jake. Whatever flaw I had, Hana would take it and cut it up into a thousand more flaws, throw it back at me, and tell me I had to fix them all or else I would never be good enough for her son. Dating Jake made me hate myself, and him, so we broke up.”
“You cheated on him, though.”
“I did,” Francesa agrees easily.
“Why?”
“Hyunjae’s nothing like Jake.”
The drive home is silent. Jake attempts to speak, but after his fifth try, he stops. Your mind was a mess, recounting Hana’s sharp words, and Francesa’s story. Everything was a mess and you felt as if you never really knew Jake.
“Y/N,” Jake tries again.
You’re sitting in his car, outside your dorm. You don’t move to leave the car. You should probably confront the tense air before it gets worse the longer you continue to ignore it. You turn to Jake, trying to keep your emotions under lock.
“Jake,” you respond. “I think we need some space. Just for a few days.”
Jake looks confused. “What do you mean, Y/N?”
“What do you mean?” Your voice is filled with rage you didn’t know you had. Watching Jake shift away, regret fills you. “Sorry, Jake. Sorry.” You look away, out the front window, and this time the tears come without warning. When you look back at Jake, you’re crying silently, the hurt inflicted by Hana filling up the space where your heart used to sit.
“If you can’t tell your mother to shut the fuck up and stop prying into my personal life, then we can’t be friends, Jake. Your silence really hurt me tonight.”
Jake’s mouth opens and closes. He doesn’t know what to say, and for some reason, that hurts you.
“You didn’t -- you didn’t even offer support, like a hand on my thigh, or a hand to hold. You left me -- you left me alone tonight, Jake.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake says, but he doesn’t even look like he means it. He’s still confused.
“Just -- just don’t talk to me for a couple of days. Unless we need to act like a couple for some stupid event.”
“Y/N --”
You smile sadly at Jake. “Jake, you’re meant to be in love with me. Your silence at dinner told a different story.”
You climb out of the car, close the passenger door, and walk away from Jake.
—-
Three days. You haven’t spoken to Jake in three days. You’ve kept yourself distracted by hanging out with Wonyoung and your friends and actually completing your assignments before the deadline, and handing them in once the submissions open.
Deciding to give yourself a break, you take this chance to check your phone. Youngeun had sent you something on Instagram, and so you pause the game you were playing with Rei and check Youngeun’s messages. She had sent you someone’s story. Clicking on it, you watch the story and your stomach turns over. It was Jake with Francesa.
Normally, you aren’t one for presumptions and letting miscommunication get in between your relationships with those close to you, but when it comes to Jake, you can’t help but get insecure. He’s rich, he’s popular, he’s handsome. He can have anyone he wants, and yet there you were, faking dating him. And yet, there you were, falling in love with him.
Love. That word strikes you across your face. Love. Since when were you in love with Jake?
You recall the sudden development you felt over Winter break; you like Jake. And not in a fake way. You truly like Jake and it’s messing with your brain. You can’t handle Jake’s gentle touches and kind words, and you can’t handle his kisses and flirtatious remarks. This fake relationship is driving you insane and soon you feel like you’ll snap. You fear what the consequences would be when that day comes. 
But when did love come into play?
The overwhelming emotions of love and like terrorize you. You click off the story where Francesa and Jake were sharing giggles and you leave Youngeun on seen. Nausea washes over you. Maybe this temporary space needs to be a permanent space.
You excuse yourself from your group of friends and walk back to your dorm. The chilly wind whips through the air and seeps through your hoodie, chilling you to the bone. Maybe you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, maybe you need to give Jake the chance to explain himself. Maybe you were just overreacting. Yes, Jake had let his mother embarrass you in front of his relatives, but that shouldn’t define who he is as a person. Right? Yes, Jake was hanging out with his ex-girlfriend who cheated on him, but nothing is happening between them. Right?
Your head begins to spin.
You stumble into the dorm and crash into Ricky. “Y/N!” The platinum blond exclaims, “I was just looking for you. Someone is here to see you.”
Immediately, you think of Jake. Has Jake finally realized what he did wrong three nights ago? Has Jake realized he loves you the way you love him? “Really?”
Ricky nods his head. “They’re in the common space.”
“Thanks Ricky,” you brush past the boy and with eager footsteps, you step into the common space -- only to falter.
Jake’s mother stands in the center of the room. Your heart stops and your breath catches.
“Mrs. Sim?”
The raven-haired woman turns at the sound of you calling her. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Y/N,” she steps over to you. “Nice to see you again.” You knew these were false pleasantries. “How is college going?”
“It’s going well,” you respond stiffly. “Jake isn’t with me.”
Mrs. Sim chuckles. “Oh, I’m not here for my son.” Her eyes pin you to the spot. “I’m here to see you, Y/N. I value my son’s partners highly, and I think we should have a talk.” She gestures to the couch behind you. “Shall we sit?”
Hesitantly, you sit on the couch. Mrs. Sim relaxes in the spot next to you, and she pulls a white envelope out of her handbag and passes it over to you. “Y/N, I’ll be honest. I don’t think you’re right for my son.”
“What?” You draw your eyes away from the white envelope you were holding. “I’m not…right?”
“Korean heritage is valued highly in our family --”
“I’m Korean, Mrs. Sim.”
“But you cannot speak Korean.”
“But I can learn!” You refute.
Mrs. Sim raises her hand, silencing you. “There is more, of course. I just simply don’t think you and Jake will last. I am only saving you from heartbreak.”
“Mrs. Sim, I’m sorry but you don’t get to --”
“You feel as though you don’t belong in Jake’s world, Y/N. Am I correct?” Mrs. Sim’s eyes are narrowed as she addresses you, her voice one that commands to be listened to.
That is something you can’t refute. It’s something that had been bubbling up within you ever since that dinner -- ever since you realized just how rich Jake was. He lived and existed in a higher society you will never understand. In a society you can only dream of existing within. You don’t get the rules, and you don’t understand how to present yourself in that rich society Jake is ingrained in. You feel so out of place, and you’ve only attended a family dinner.
“With time, I think I can feel comfortable --”
“Y/N. You are not fit for my son. You should break up with him.”
You scoff. “What makes you think I would break up with Jake? I love him.”
Mrs. Sim sighs. “But does he love you? At dinner, it didn’t seem like he did. My son was more than happy to let you embarrass yourself.”
“Embarrass myself? That was -- that was your fault--”
“In that envelope is money. You should open it.”
You open it. It’s a check. Your eyes widen at the amount of money scrolled on the check. “What--what’s this for?”
“Break up with Jake and that money is yours.”
“I don’t -- I don’t want your money.” You throw the envelope on the ground. “I’m not cheap, Mrs. Sim.”
Mrs. Sim stands from the couch and brushes off her dress. “I have said what I wanted to say. I can only hope you listen to me, Y/N, and realize that you will never be the one for Jake, no matter what he says, or what you tell yourself.”
“Jake is his own person. He is twenty. He can make decisions for himself. Why are you still controlling him?”
Mrs. Sim glances over her shoulder. “My son is still green when it comes to the world. He does not know what is best for him because I sheltered him from the real world growing up.”
“He can make decisions for himself,” you repeat.
Mrs. Sim walks away.
A few hours later, with help of Wonyoung’s stalking skills and social connections, you find yourself back on Greek Row, and outside a frat house that was famous across campus because of their end-of-exams parties. Jake was at this party tonight with the rest of Enhypen.
Wonyoung was already chatting up some older college student and you head inside the frat yourself. It was already packed, horny and sweaty bodies pushing up against each other, and the smell of weed hangs suspended in the air. You start looking for Jake, and you immediately head for the back porch. You don’t find Jake there, however you find Sunghoon and Heeseung setting up a new game of beer pong. “Sunghoon! Heeseung!” You call out, rushing toward them. “Where’s Jake?”
Sunghoon beams at you. “Y/N! Hey! Jake took Sunoo to the bathroom. He’s wasted.”
“Awesome! Thanks!” You dash back into the house and climb the stairs, hoping there was a bathroom on the second floor of this frat. Pushing open every door, you only find bedrooms with two, or three people, making out on the beds. With apology after apology, your search for Jake and Sunoo and a bathroom is futile.
Then, a door at the end of the hall opens and out spills Jake and Sunoo. Your heart leaps in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s in excitement or nervousness for what’s about to happen. “Jake!” You shout.
Jake perks up hearing your voice, and his lips break out into a massive grin. He abandons Sunoo’s side and rushes up to you, wrapping you in a warm hug. He sloppily kisses your cheek. “Y/N!” He was tipsy. “I missed you so much.” He holds you tighter and nuzzles his face in your neck.
This was going to be hard.
“Jake,” you say softly. “We need to talk.”
—-
You and Jake were sitting at a bus shelter near the frat house throwing the party. Your leg shakes as you work up the courage to end the fake relationship you have with Jake. You don’t know why you were hesitating all of a sudden. Why were you afraid of ending this relationship with Jake?
“Jake,” you start softly. “I think -- I think.” You inhale. You can do this. You can spit it out. “I think we should end the fake relationship.”
“Huh?” Jake tilts his head to the side. He really is a puppy.
“Jake. We need to break up. Or whatever.”
Jake’s eyes widen. “Break up? Why?”
This was the hard part. You’ve never dated someone so you’ve never experienced a break up before. How were you supposed to do this? How were you supposed to tell Jake to never contact you again because you don't fit in his world? You don’t fit beside him?
“I’m calling this whole agreement off,” you rephrase. You aren’t sure if this is an actual break up if you were never in a real relationship in the first place.
“Why?” Jake asks, and he looks sober. “We don’t have that much longer left.”
“I just feel like I did what you needed me to do. I stayed your girlfriend long enough to meet your parents. Now, it just feels pointless to keep this whole agreement going. I’ll transfer you back the money, and you can stop driving me around everywhere.”
“Y/N,” Jake says gently. He reaches for your hand and you retract it, dismissing the hurt on his face.
The thing about love; you don’t understand it. You’ve never understood love because you’ve never been in love. It’s confusing and tricky. Why does your heart beat a certain way around Jake, and not anybody else? You love your friends, sure, but it’s a different love to the one you feel with Jake. Love is weird, and confusing, and tricky, and unforgiving. You feel naive at the hands of love because it makes everything you thought you understood, more complex and hard to understand.
You used to know the difference between like and love and now you’re not so sure anymore.
You used to find love confusing, but now it’s complex with more instructions written in the fine print you never read in the first place. When your heart begins to beat a different tune, everything in you changes; how you behave, how you talk, how you dress, and how you look. Love changes you. For better or for worse.
“Jake, I don’t think we should stay friends after,” you admit, standing from the seat. The lamplight next to the bus shelter flickers slightly. A strong wind picks up and whips your hair into your face. Jake doesn’t move an inch, hurt and confusion plastered all over his face. “We’re two different people from two different families. We would’ve never worked out, no matter how badly I wanted this to be real.” The confession slips from your lips without a warning.
Jake looks anguished and he tries to reach for you again. You take a step back and the wind blows more harshly, rattling the bus shelter. “Jake. I don’t fit in with you. Or your family. I don’t fit in the world you’re living in.”
Jake tries to interrupt but you don’t let him. “It hurt me that night, when you offered no support, when you barraged me with your family dinner. I was underprepared, Jake, and I was left humiliated as your mother ripped my life apart in front of your relatives who I really wanted to impress no matter if they don’t hold value in your life.”
“Jake, I really, really like you.” You don’t understand the difference between like and love. Maybe you never will. Maybe you just really like Jake. “But we’d never work if this became real because right now, it’s fake, and I feel…” You shrug, unable to form a coherent sentence. “It’s just messing with me. And the dinner --”
“It was my mom, Y/N,” Jake interrupts, finally finding his voice. “You know how she is.”
“She’s manipulative and controlling. You told me yourself Jake,” you shoot back. “And I’m not looking for a fight Jake, I just think it’s time you actually put actions to your words. She shouldn’t still control your life. You’re twenty. Not sixteen.”
“Y/N --”
“Your mother humiliated me, Jake. She made me feel stupid for not knowing Korean.” Tears well in your eyes. “And you know what’s even stupider? She didn’t even believe for a second that you loved me. Your silence really spoke a thousand words, Jake. And not just for me.”
Jake sighs and glances away and towards the party that was happening behind him. “Is this because of the Instagram story Fran posted of us?”
You shake your head, bitterness spilling across your tongue. “No. I know you don’t like her like that, Jake. I mean, for a moment I was jealous but then I remembered she cheated on you and I know you’re better than that, Jake. And then I remembered, you didn’t tell me what ‘family dinner’ actually meant, and then you let your mother humiliate me in front of, pretty much, your entire family, and you’re still acting like you did nothing wrong when all I wanted was your support. Is that too much to ask for? I really tried to sell this relationship, Jake, but your mother saw right through us because of your silence.”
Jake drops his head, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You huff and the first tear drops. “Your family is really shitty, Jake.”
“I know.” 
“And you can be better than them.”
“I know.” 
“I really wished I didn’t feel so alone during that dinner.” 
Jake raises his head. He looks pitiful. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
“Don’t contact me, Jake, we’re done.” 
Jake physically recoils at your words. “Y/N --” 
“I hope I’m able to get over you, Jake. I really hope I am.” You step away from Jake, and above you, lightning crackles through the sky. “I had a nice time with you, Jake.” 
Jake lets you go as thunder booms overhead. 
—-
“Do you think I was overreacting?” You ask Wonyoung as you lie on your bed. It’s been a week since you last saw or heard from Jake and as much as you wish you didn’t, all you could think about was Jake. How stupid, immature, and hypocritical of you. “Maybe I was. Maybe it wasn’t that deep.” 
Wonyoung hums. “No. I think you did good. You know what you want in a relationship, Y/N. You want someone who can stand up for you against his parents. Your reaction was valid.” 
You roll over in your bed and face Wonyoung who was probably texting Sunghoon as she lay on her own bed across from you. “I miss him,” you admit softly and then promptly shove your face in your pillow to scream. “But I hate him for what he did -- but I really really miss him.” 
“You liked him a lot, Y/N,” Wonyoung says gently. “Of course you’ll miss him.” 
You roll onto your back again and stare at the ceiling. “He was nice to me. And kind. And thoughtful, and he was funny and charming and so polite and he made me feel warm and safe and comfortable and --” You look at Wonyoung who was smiling at you, her phone discarded. “I think I almost fell in love with him.” 
“I think he almost fell in love with you too,” Wonyoung says. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know about that.” 
Wonyoung checks the time on her phone and gasps, leaping off her bed. “Fuck. It’s so late. I need to get going for my lecture. Do you want me to buy anything when I’m walking back?”
“Chocolate milk?” You ask Wonyoung. “I think I need chocolate milk.” 
Wonyoung smiles and pats your shoulder. “Of course.” 
You lie in bed for the rest of the day, thinking over your relationship with Jake. You hate to admit it, but to you, for the most part, the relationship felt real -- especially when Jake joined your family during Christmas. Nothing felt more real than you curled up on Jake’s lap, sharing laughter and trading jokes. 
“Hey Wonyoung,” you ask a few hours later, after she’s returned with your chocolate milk. (The bottle is now empty as it lies at the foot of your bed.) “Do you think I was a bit too naive in the relationship? Sure, we’re only two years apart, but our maturity is probably ten years apart. Was I asking for too much?”
Wonyoung shakes her head. “You weren’t asking for too much. Jake was just giving too little. He wasn’t providing you with the emotional support a relationship needs.” 
“But when we were alone,” you say quietly, “he did. He comforted me. He told me reassuring words and made me feel wanted. I don’t know why he did what he did at dinner. Clearly that’s a can I’ll never have the privilege of popping open or asking about.” Sighing, you squeeze your stuffed toy dog closer to your chest. “But I do think I was naive. I fell too fast for Jake. I am only eighteen, after all.” 
“You fell first but he fell harder,” Wonyoung says. 
“You think so?”
“I know so.” 
You shut your eyes and sigh again. “When I think of Jake, I think of him spending Christmas with me and my family. He’s just…so happy. So fucking happy. And it makes me feel happy. See? I fell too fast, and too deep, and now I don’t know if I’ll ever get over him.” 
Wonyoung laughs softly. “And why do you think he felt happy, Y/N?”
A light blush tints your cheeks. “I like to imagine he felt happy because he was with me.”
—-
Exam season creeps up on you fast, and to deal with your stress you start going out on runs -- like right now. With loud Olivia Rodrigo blasting through your airpods, you jog down the sidewalk of a quiet suburban street. Since summer is near, the sun burns brighter and sweat easily soaks you. 
On this run, you bump into Riki. 
“Riki!” You exclaim in surprise when you spot the familiar boy walking towards the nearby park that houses a baseball diamond. He’s carrying his overstuffed baseball bag and has headphones on, but at the sound of your voice, he whirls around and tugs them off. 
“Y/N,” he responds, his voice smooth and neutral. “Wanna play baseball?”
So, you find yourself pitching to Riki and retrieving the balls he hits out into the field, deja vu washing over you. He doesn’t speak to you until the end. Concern that you’ve angered him washes over you as you watch him take a long sip of water from his water bottle. 
“I’m not mad at you,” Riki says, wiping his forehead with a towel. “So can you stop looking at me like that?”
“Sorry,” you mumble, blushing. 
“If anything, I’m glad you broke up with Jake.”
You gape at the younger boy and watch him back up his stuff. “What?” 
“He needed this wake up call. He has so much personal shit going on in his life that he never had the balls to face, and I guess whatever you said to him when you broke up with him really slapped him awake. I’ve never seen Jake this happy, or appear this light, y’know? Like before, it felt like he was dragging this dead weight around with him but ever since he cut off his family and dealt with personal issues, it’s like that dead weight is gone.” Riki harshly shoves his baseball glove into his overflowing bag. 
“I mean, you know Jake is emotionally constipated in a way.” 
You snort. “Ain’t that the truth. We would only brush the surface level of his…childhood trauma. He would tell me measly things -- like how his parents never had time for him, and how his mother was extremely controlling and his father was demanding, but that’s all. We never, like, actually talked about his feelings.” 
Riki nods his head, picking up his bat and swinging it through the air. “Jake’s actually talking about his feelings now, by the way. He’s been talking to his brother more recently and finally caved into Jay’s nagging and booked a therapy appointment.” 
“Oh wow,” your eyes widened. “Therapy?” 
Riki nods his head. “He wants to get better.” The look Riki gives you says everything. 
Running back home, your steps feel lighter. You’re able to study with a clear mind and when you exit the exam halls you feel as if you just aced all those tests. You don’t know why, but knowing that Jake is working towards a better self, makes you feel happy. You’re glad Jake is working on himself, and has support all around him. You feel the urge to reach out to him, but you fight it away by keeping yourself occupied by hanging out with Wonyoung and your friends. 
You occasionally run into Riki and Heeseung while out on your runs. They keep you updated on Jake, letting you know how he’s doing and what he’s doing. It’s nice to still be in touch with Jake’s friends, it’s nice to see that they don’t resent you for breaking up with Jake. Jay reaches out to you once, inviting you to his birthday party. You turn down the invitation and Jay says he understands. Then, he thanks you for taking care of Jake. 
Your pride holds you back from unblocking Jake on Instagram so you create a burner account solely to keep yourself updated on Jake’s whereabouts during summer break. He takes Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki back to Milan, Italy where they shop at Prada, eat tons of pasta and pizza, and get drunk on Italian wine. Based on the stories they post, the Milan trip was quite eventful. 
The start of your second year approaches quickly and you still haven’t reached out to Jake yet. You’ve unblocked his number and drafted up a few text messages asking Jake if he wants to talk, or meet up, but you’ve never had the guts to send them. You’re afraid of the outcome, you’re afraid of finding out that Jake never wants to see you again, but you’d understand if Jake requests that. 
It’s the last day before you move back into the dormitory. You’re lounging on the couch with Myeong who is watching Crazy Rich Asians while she paints her toes. You’re laser focused on your phone, struggling to come up with a text to send to Jake. You really want to see him again. 
Someone knocks on your door.
“I’ll get it,” you tell Myeong, gladly distracting yourself from the daunting task you assigned yourself. Dressed in old, short, denim shorts, and a ratty old t-shirt that boasts Disneyland’s 50th Anniversary, you open the door. “Hi--” 
Jake stands on your doorstep, holding a bouquet of red roses. His hair is slicked back. He’s wearing a white blouse that’s been paired with black slacks. He looks breathtaking. Literally. You can’t breathe. 
“Y/N,” Jake smiles gently, and holds out the bouquet for you to take. “You look beautiful.” 
You snort, still unable to move. 
“Don't leave me hanging, Y/N,” Jake says. 
“What are you doing here, Jake?” You finally find your voice, and your arm reaches out to take hold of the rose bouquet. 
“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Jake admits. “And a lot of that thinking has been about you.” 
You stare at Jake, wide-eyed, and if you were able to see yourself, there’s probably stars in your eyes. You grip the rose bouquet tighter. “You’ve been thinking? About me?” 
Jake nods his head. “About you. And our time together. And I realized that if we had spent more time together, I would have fallen in love with you.” 
You feel faint. “Oh, wow.” Your mouth feels dry, and it’s hard to breathe. 
“You’re very lovable, Y/N,” Jake’s smile is just as bright as the sun, and his eyes hold galaxies that are far prettier than the one you’re existing in. “And I’m sorry for making you feel alone. Friends or dating, I should never let someone feel like that. I’m sorry for not standing up for you.” 
“It’s okay, Jake,” you laugh off the insanity you’re feeling. “I’m over it. Really.” 
“I’m sorry for hurting you, Y/N.”
You smile softly, raising the roses to your nose. “It’s okay, Jake.” 
Jake nods his head. “Alright. Cool. I’m -- I’m glad.” He looks up at the sky, with tense shoulders, and closes his eyes. He looks unsure of himself and you let out a small, amused giggle. Jake glances back at you, and everything in him relaxes. He inhales deeply. “So, I was wondering, Y/N, if you’d like to go out with me. Tonight. On a real date.” 
It’s silent for a long time. 
“You can say no --”
“You’re a very hard person to get over, Jake,” you admit. 
“I am?”
You nod your head. “I think it’s stupid how you still occupy my heart.” 
“It’s stupid?”
You smile. “Very stupid. But that’s okay, because it makes me stupidly in love with you.” 
“Oh.” 
“Give me fifteen minutes. Myeong’s watching Crazy Rich Asians, so you can keep her company while I get changed and --”
Jake cuts you off with a kiss. His lips are warm against yours. When he draws away, his eyes are like molten honey. It’s like he’s melting right in front of you, love oozing from every inch of skin that you can see. “Sorry,” Jake flushes. “I couldn’t help myself. You look really cute, Y/N.” 
You draw Jake back in for another kiss. 
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1K notes · View notes
rory-cakes · 2 months
Text
The Crew! Part 1!
A series of Incorrect quotes with Birdy!reader and the Hazbin Crew!
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Birdy: I would never say that my partner is a bitch and I don’t don’t like them. That’s not true… My partner is a bitch and I like them so much!
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*Part 5 essentially*
Alastor: Pros and cons of dating me.
Alastor: Pros. You'll be the cute one.
Alastor: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-
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Angel: Bonjour, Husk. Voulez–vous coucher avec moi?
Husk: No, I don't want to sleep with you.
Angel: Is that what that means? Oh, man, I had a really gross tennis instructor.
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Vaggie: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.
Angel: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in his own pool. Big difference.
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Lucifer to Charlie: Stop saving the world and get a hobby.
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Husk: Is this gaslighting? Am I being gaslit? 
Alastor: If I were gaslighting you, you’d never know it. 
Husk: Is THAT gaslighting? 
Alastor: Shut up.
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Birdy, teaching Charlie to drive: Okay Charlie, what does a green light mean? 
Charlie: Go! 
Birdy: A red light? 
Charlie: Stop! 
Birdy: And what about a yellow light? 
Charlie: If you floor it, you can make it! 
Birdy: …No—
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Angel: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.
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Alastor: Alright, listen up you little shits. 
Alastor: Not you Birdy. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.
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*Squad is playing Among Us* 
Lucifer: I believe Vaggie is innocent, I was with them the whole time. Alastor, what were you doing? 
Alastor: Oh, I was just murdering… I mean, nothing!
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Vaggie: What's this? 
Chalie, hugging Vaggie: Affection! 
Vaggie: Disgusting. 
Vaggie: ...Do it again.
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Vaggie: Any idiot would know that. 
Nifty: I knew that! 
Vaggie: See?
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Lucifer: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.
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Charlie: We’re kind of missing something guys. 
Angel: Cohesion? 
Vaggie: Teamwork? 
Husk: A general sense of what we’re doing? 
Lucifer: And Birdy is not here. 
Husk: Oh, and that, yeah.
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Lucifer: I hate you with every inch of my body! 
Alastor: That’s not a lot of inches.
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*in a group chat* 
Angel: First one to reply is gat. 
Angel: *gay 
Angel: Wait...
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Birdy: *eating a cinnamon roll* 
Everyone: Cannibalism. 
Birdy: *confused chewing noises*
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Angel: Here’s the cold medicine you asked for. 
Husk: *dumps 3 shopping bags of wine on the table* 
Birdy: ...Thanks.
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Birdy: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one. 
Alastor: Break one of their bones instead, they have 206 of them.
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A/n: Hope You enjoyed!!
Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage, @har-har-harvey, @i-love-jafar, @cupidsgift, @meow-meowo, @theblueslytherin, @deadt3tinside, @lyralibra, @the-unhinged-raccoon, @avitute, @alastorswifeee, @stygianoir, @sideshow-b0b, @deadlymouse123, @mysingularitybts, @emotionalfangirl2002, @t0xic1vi, @goodlittlepup, @starsatmyhome, @wendds, @reader3, @redfoxgotlost, @hurthermore, @frostychurro, @isa-dragon, @makandcheese04, @sassypeiceofshit, @kenzi-woycehoski, @otherthoughtsofbu
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octopiys · 3 months
Note
Hi dear! I’m not sure if you still take quotes but I have one if you do.
“Maybe it’s an illegal Immigrate spider”
Incorrect Quotes as CoD characters
It's been a while ain't it
-
Soap: imagine Ghost just went up to Colonel König, y'know, cus they've never interacted before, and just says "I'm sexually attracted to you, and want to wear your skin"
Soap: how-
Soap: how do you think he'd respond?
Price:
The rest of the goddamn world:
Gaz: what the fuck goes on inside your head
-
Rodolfo: the bank man wasn't doing his job today, and now I'm behind in paperwork
Valeria: I have a solution
Rodolfo: please don't kill him
Valeria: I no longer have a solution
-
Soap: you know how in despicable me, Gru steals the moon?
Gaz, dreading the answer: yeah?
Soap, staring dead at Ghost: I'm gonna steal his straightness
Gaz:
Gaz: why
-
Price: oh look over there
Price: yep there it goes
Price: my final fuck to give
Price:
Price: farewell, fuck
-
Roach: how do you keep ending up in these situations?
Gaz, standing on a chair: because I don't like them, okay?
Roach: buddy you're it's roommate now
Gaz: nuh uh, spiders don't have roommates
Roach: where do you think it came from?
Gaz: I don't know
Gaz: maybe it's an illegal immigrant spider, trying to hide here for safety
Roach: and you want me to-?
Gaz: squish it. No safety here.
-
Soap: none of yall were dancing as hard as me, Alejandro, Rodolfo, and.... and König
-
Shepherd: and what do we say when life disappoints us?
Roach: called it!
Shepherd, shooting him: no.
Roach:
Roach: ...called it..-
-
Ghost: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends.
Price: ... Your what?
Ghost: My friends.
Soap: is he saying “friends”?
Gaz: I think he's being sarcastic.
Alejandro: No, no, no, this is delirium, he's cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Ghost! All of your friends are in this room.
-
Alejandro: let's play rock paper scissors. You go first.
Graves: rock
Alejandro: paper
-
Ghost: Do you even know what an amulet is?
Alejandro: Of course I do! I eat amulets sometimes. I like the ones with cheese and onions!
Ghost: Alejandro, those are omelettes.
Alejandro: Oh. Then I’ve got nothing.
-
Rodolfo: I'm gonna kill you
Graves: get in line!
-
Ghost: Pros and cons of dating me.
Ghost: Pros. You'll be the cute one.
Ghost: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-
-
Alejandro: Goodnight to the love of my life, Rodolfo, and fuck the rest of y'all.
-
Soap: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us.
Horangi: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.
-
Graves: Oh no! I’m doomed!
Laswell: Seriously? All you have to do is not insult Soap at his own memorial service.
Graves: Exactly! It’s impossible!
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humanityinahandbag · 8 months
Text
took an edible, got high (still high), and decided to try and find roller coaster tycoon on steam and ended up in the reviews section and yippee ki-gay i hit the fucking jackpot
Like this very honest (and earnestly sweet at first) self critique:
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Or what about this wonderful pro/con list of more expensive game options:
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This person right here is a master of sound and acoustics, an appreciator of auditory Borgia.
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There were some reviews from tech people as well who gave super helpful advice. I just thought that this dude had the best description I've ever heard for annoying little bugs on the computer. I want this person to write newspaper headlines.
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And this one?
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Shakespeare.
And here's even more brutal honesty from people who understand just how feral we were as kids and probably continue to be as adults. Every one of us was apparently living childhood with the gumption and drive of a pack of raccoons stuck in a dumpster. Our only goals were anarchy and OSHA violations.
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And when they quote the game, it reads like an ominous short sci-fi apocalyptic horror story.
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But my favorite probably would be this incredible set of reviews that Steam dropped right beside one another that absolutely describe the game in what I can only describe as a visual masterpiece.
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10/10 ⭐️ Guest 203 Has Drowned :D
want to blaze this post because you get it
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olderthannetfic · 5 months
Note
hiii i know you're just a person and not a library but if you happen to have them on hand, i'd greatly thank you for some resources on how social justice topics first entered fandom pre-tumblr-2010s, especially in the 90s or earlier is the period i'm interested in, if fans were very eager on being "politically correct" and went out of their way to find related academic texts or if they sort of had to be "kicked in the butt" to do research by people who were already involved in social justice irl, and also if there was pushback against social justice entering fandom & what the arguments were (i know the japanese had the yaoi ronso, i wonder if there is some clearly traceable event like that for the western fandom, or just some insight into the decades-long process it was and how the arguments have changed overtime, eg. yesterday i stumbled across a forum discussion about how a certain character using misogynistic language is "just how working class people talk", & it's so interesting bc that's a kind of argument which seems to have fallen out of circulation completely, so that got me wondering on what other shifts there could have been👀)
--
I mean... "fans" is pretty broad. But if you want to know about m/m fans in Western fandom, that's a lot more answerable.
Ye olde slash fandom did have plenty of discussion around queerness. There's a certain style that's much more common in older fic where one of them is really struggling with homophobia and doesn't like the idea of being into men and so does something or other awful to create drama in the fic, and even then, some fans would be like "Then he's an undatable jerk!"
The further back you go in that kind of fandom, the more everyone is a mega-nerd and quite possibly an academic. There are certainly things that are openly talked about today that people were clueless about then (trans issues, for example), but you have to do a lot more kicking now to get someone to read an academic article on average.
I really cannot express how much more default-intellectual this hobby was in the 90s and before.
Here's an example of the sort of thing people were coming up with:
Here's a bunch of early 00s meta:
Here's a fanlore article with a smattering of the many long discussions about Why Slash:
Here's a starting point on some rapey stuff in Pros fandom that people had meta thoughts about:
And a common practice of writing fic to debunk/respond to other people's fic that used to be so overt there was a term for it:
You could also just go through the history of Escapade, the oldest slash con that's still running in 2023, and see what the panel topics were:
--
I'm not sure "social justice" is quite the way to look at this. If you're curious about m/m shippers and misogynist language or treatment of internalized homophobia in fic, that will be covered quite well by things like the above. Plenty of individual fanfic people were involved in AIDS activism because that was everywhere back then. But race stuff? Other kinds of social justice? I don't remember those coming up much.
And of course fans were not eager to be "politically correct". Being involved in slash fandom in the 80s was seen as being a pervert and a purveyor of underground pornography. These were rebels, not pearl-clutching line-toers.
They might have been eager to be pro-gay, but they sure as fuck didn't express it in those namby-pamby terms.
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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months
Text
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Rating: Mature
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 1422
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
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Now that the 1st is over for anybody unlucky enough to stumble across this: it's an April Fool's chapter- not real.
11. Cheesecake
Two days later, Steve decides to take a late afternoon nap. He wakes from a very deep sleep to the sunlight gone from beyond the widows, and before he can even groan over however the hell long he’s slept, the sound of Bucky and Mary arguing—loudly—reaches his ears.
“Well I don’t care what she said! This is insane! You’re not going!”
“You can’t stop me!”
“You bet your ass I can!”
Steve groans and turns over in the bed. He’s so sick and tired of this. Having Mary stay at their place was a good idea, in theory, but it hasn’t worked out at all the way either he or Bucky were hoping. All it’s done is make all three of them miserable, and put a strain on his and Bucky’s marriage. Getting up, he decides to put his foot down. They can’t keep doing this.
Steve goes out to the living room, where Mary is dressed in a shocking amount of nothing, and what she is wearing all seems to be red latex. “Mare?” he says groggily. 
Bucky whirls around. “Did you know about this?”
“I told you he doesn’t.”
“Know about what?” Steve asks grumpily. 
“Well it wouldn’t be the first secret you’ve kept for her behind my back.”
Steve lowers the hand that’s been rubbing his eyes. Uh oh. Bucky is half naked, he notices, with his joggers and sneakers on and nothing else. Steve figures he must’ve been heading for the shower, as the arm is off, too. 
Over by the door, Mary is shrugging on her coat. “I’ll see you guys later. Have a nice life."
“Hey! Don’t you open that door.”
When she opens it, Steve is surprised to see none other than Thor standing in the hallway. 
“Is that … the Pro?” he asks, confusedly. Behind Thor’s mass are two other people, a girl and a man, also decked out in bold and scant sub wear. Oh, Steve thinks. That’s the girl who Mary made friends with at the CDP the other week. What was her name again? Daryl, Deena, Diane ...
“Darcy!” Bucky growls, pointing at her. “What the fuck did you talk her into?!”
“She doesn’t need you,” Darcy says bravely (or as bravely as she can from behind Thor’s massive body). “She’s gonna come live with us and be our sister-wife.”
“Your what?!”
“Don’t worry, fellows!” Thor booms with a smile. “My harem is a lovely place to live. I promise I’ll take excellent care of her!”  He ignores Bucky’s furious expression and shoots Steve a thumbs up gesture. “Perhaps we’ll see you at the social!”
“Mary,” Bucky warns, but Mary’s already grabbed her purse and gone out the door. She waggles her fingers at them and says she'll send 'someone neutral' by for her stuff. “Don't worry about me,” she says. "I finally figured out what I really need."
The door shuts behind her, and Bucky and Steve just stand there for a while, processing what just happened.
“... what just happened?” Steve asks.
Bucky goes and throws himself onto the couch, looking totally stunned. “Mary decided that she’s going to get her custody transferred to Thor so she can live with Darcy and her boyfriend whatshisface at their house."
Steve’s heartrate picks up. “But … the custody order,” he says.
“Yeah.” Bucky glares across the room at Steve. “Apparently she went to Linda and told her we refused sex, so Linda signed off on it. A judge gave her a new ruling yesterday.”
“What?!”
“Yeah. That’s where she was all day, not at work.”
Steve gasps, in disbelief. “Well … there’s gotta be something we can do?!” He flings his arm at the door where Mary just left. “Where the hell was he taking her, anyway?”
“A social.” Bucky’s expression loses some of its bite, and he shakes his head. “Maybe this is for the best,” he mumbles. “She wasn’t getting what she needs here. We can’t force her to want us. And she obviously doesn’t.” He shakes his head, sighing. “It would’ve ended like this, anyway. So maybe she just saved us a lot of awkward conversations.”
Steve huffs, frustrated by that. “How could she not want us?” he complains, gesturing down his own body where he stands and then Bucky’s. “We’re way out of her league! She should’ve been jumping for joy that we wanted to be with—”
“Yeah well obviously there were mitigating factors,” Bucky snaps, looking bitterly down at the left side of his body where the arm isn’t. “So she finally went and did something right for herself. Good on her.”
Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. He puts his hands on his hips, pissed at Bucky’s defeatist attitude. “So you’re not even gonna go after her?”
Bucky shakes his head. “What’s the point? We didn’t have a future with her. At least this way she’ll get what she needs … with someone she wants it from.”
Steve scoffs, angry, but then he deflates some. “Well fuck.”
Bucky nods. “Fuck indeed.” 
Steve’s shoulders slump, and his focus shifts to making sure that Bucky’s okay. “Hey,” he nudges gently, going over to the couch. “What do you need, babe?”
Bucky gives him a sad but fond smile and holds his arm out along the back of the couch in indication. “Just you, Sweetheart. C’mere.”
Steve sinks down to snuggle up beside him, and the two of them talk quietly for a while about what the hell they’re going to do now. Now that the heat of the moment's worn off, they both can concede that there's no better person to take care of Mary than Thor. And this way, she'll have a best friend in Darcy as well. Not all relationships are meant to last, but that doesn't make them not meaningful.
And as for the two of them? Well ...
“You know you’re all I need,” Bucky says quietly to him later, once they’re in bed, in the dark, hands clasped between them and cum drying on their bellies. “Always were.”
Steve rolls over and gives him a tender kiss. “Me too, Buck. Me too.”
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They don’t discover the farewell cheesecake in the fridge until the next morning, when both of them have already made love again and showered and resolved to look on the bright side about how they at least accomplished one thing: and that’s that they definitely saved Mary’s life and helped her go from a very bad place, to where she needs to be.
“Oh man,” Steve groans when he opens the fridge and sees them sitting there. “I’m gonna miss this, though.” He pulls out the two plates of cheesecake to show Bucky. “She really got to know our tastes, huh?” One of the slices is blueberry, the other is Dulce. Bucky smiles fondly and nods. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah she did.” 
They sit together and eat their respective slices at the breakfast bar, feeling much better about the outcome of things than they did yesterday. “I’m happy for her,” Bucky finally decides, because he is. “And we’ll always be able to keep in touch. So that’s good.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “It’s good.” They share a warm smile of affection and briefly clasp hands. Steve raises his eyebrows at Bucky’s metal arm. “Do you really need that if we're just goin' to the farmer’s market?” 
Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “Naw. You're right.” He comes around the breakfast bar and offers his left side to Steve with a loving smile. “Why don’t you help me take it off?” 
Steve does, and he knows that they’re going to be alright.
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Epilogue: 
Mary forms a relationship with Thor and falls in love with him. Darcy and Ian are just her friends, and they all wind up living together in one house, in a polyamorous relationship.
Mary texts Steve and Bucky starting a few days after her departure, apologizing for how she left, but that she knows it was for the best. All three of them maintain contact through texting and the occasional event at the CDP, and they all forgive each other and form an incredible friendship (so much so that sometimes even Thor gets jealous!)
Bucky and Steve entertain the idea of dating around for a potential third, but they eventually decide that they’re it for each other, and Bucky just uses the Pro subs at the CDP from time to time. 
All in all, they’re happy, and it’s very gratifying to know that they helped Mary get her life turned around. She even winds up opening her own little micro bakery not too far from their place, so Steve and Bucky can continue enjoying the delicious desserts she makes. 
Mary, Darcy, and Thor have an informal poly wedding ceremony (which Bucky and Steve happily attend), opting against a traditional marriage that would only recognize one of them, and within two years, both Mary and Darcy are expecting!
Bucky and Steve enthusiastically agree to be the baby’s godparents. The experience convinces them to pursue adoption themselves.
And after the Christening, everyone gathers at the CDP for a wonderful celebration … with loads of cheesecake.
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Please don't hate me for this ending! I really think it's in the characters best interests and a more realistic ending for all three of them.
... And it's April 1st though, so ...
This wasn't a real chapter. And it's basically the only harmless prank I can play on anyone today, so. There you have it. Happy April Fool's day! (and 🤞🏻please don't unsubscribe in anger 😅)
And in case you're not a fan of pranks: well I'm writing the next (real) chapter today and (should be) able to post either tonight or tomorrow night, so don't fume too much! 🥰
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danepopfrippery · 5 months
Text
Taika is the reason all those shows ended (rez dog had planned 3 seasons, he hasnt done much w wwdits since s1, for ofmd i believe david took a bad deal w a literal devil).
So i put this on another post but its buried lets redo it
Good reasons to hate Taika:
*hes a zionist and has been for years. Despite claims the only other ofmd cast who is maybe zionist is Rhys. His wife controls his social media and tweeted support for Israel. He must be ok with it hes never refuted it. Meanwhile no one has provided proof Con is zionist. He, Vico, Nathan, Samba, and David have all at least once (and some more than once) posted pro palestine stories on instagram. Vico is particularly passionate for free palestine
*his wife not only pretends to be black (shes white af) but thinks hes samoan...
*He said awful things about trans ppl in 2014 in his mid 30s. Went on to make Next Goal Wins in 2020 and it has a heavy transphobe laden plot line which is a dishonor to its queer actress. Hes never apologized for either even when called to do so
*He married film producer/director Chelsea Winstanley, brought her along, had two kids, got bored and dumped her for Rita Ora. There is no gap. So now she has no career and is raising his kids, he glass ceilinged her
*he did hire Kayvan for Nandor despite his extremely recent use of blackface on a show that Kayvan had almost complete control over (some of the black face was only a few years old when wwdits was in pilot mode).
*declares himself both a proud indigenous icon (see trophy wife) and a gay icon (despite hating trans ppl and claiming he is straight).
When i say claiming i mean the man acts like…not…but lets just take him at his word. How the fuck can u be a gay icon as a straight man who constantly belittles trans ppl? When criticized around Next Goal Wins he cited OFMD as proof hes not anti trans…despite not inventing the character of Jim and seemed to have nothing to do with Vico’s hiring. He uses them as a citation despite cast and writer interviews revealing most of the ofmd queerness we love came from the actors (and two writers were key to making Jim nonbinary with vico).
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(Now w receipts)
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godisshook · 11 months
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A Snowy Savior
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Move-in day was hectic for Jack. Between his parents crying and saying, "We're only a call away," to having countless boxes to bring in, it was certainly an interesting start to his college experience. With a final teary-eyed goodbye, his parents drove away, leaving Jack to take it all in. Despite his objections, his parents got him a room of his own, meaning he wouldn't be able to easily make friends with a potential roommate. This fact didn't discourage him, he knew he had a great personality, and he had plenty of classes to make friends in regardless.
With the first semester now in full swing, Jack focused on being as outgoing as possible, joining clubs whenever he could. Most were not really his style, but it was an opportunity to make new connections. A day that was in all respects boring was spiced up as a frat bro walked up to Jack. He recognized the brother from a house party. Jack knew his name was Donovan, as the two had drunkenly exchanged info during the party. Soon, the conversation shifted to the brother's frat, Alpha Mu, which the brother revealed that he wanted Jack to join. Knowing the reputation most frats had on campus, Jack was nervous, but he knew how important a direct invite from a brother was. Weighing the pros and cons on his walk home, the decision became clear. He wanted to make new friends, and what place would be better than a frat?
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Everything about the frat lifestyle suited Jack. He loved the parties and loved the after-parties even more. The brothers knew he was gay, and most didn't care, with Donovan himself being gay, he could not have picked a better one to consider. Donovan was responsible for planning the pledge party, and he texted Jack the address of the house, saying "You better be there." Even if Jack had not already decided, it seemed Donovan was making the choice for him. With the decision as good as made for him, Jack prepared for the party, finding whatever collared shirt he had in his suitcase. The frat's kickoff party was packed, and Jack thrived.
A brother had offered Jack a shot of vodka, and he downed it immediately. With him downing more and more drinks, the world would begin spinning around him, knowing he was now well and truly sloshed, Jack decided to leave early. Trying not to puke his guts out, he said his goodbyes to the others, and headed out the front door.
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As Jack's drunken walk home began, he would encounter another brother down the sidewalk. Even in his stupor, he recognized him, as he had spent most of the party talking to few people, mostly keeping to himself. When Jack had introduced himself to the brother during the party, he was given a nod in response. Not wanting to have another awkward situation, Jack tried to walk past the brother silently, but the alcohol was taking its toll, and he stumbled straight into him. Slurring his words, Jack mumbled, "Sorry." The brother replied, "You're clearly out of it, let me give you a ride back."
Getting a free ride home beat getting an Uber or walking back alone, so Jack followed the brother. In the car, he introduced himself, "I'm Tristan." Jack, thinking back to his failed introduction at the party, responded, "I'm Jack, but you already know that." Tristan laughed and said, "It was hard to hear you over the music, if I had known that you were trying to introduce yourself, I would've said something back." This response seemed to satisfy Jack, as he settled back in his seat for the rest of the ride back. Finally arriving at Jack's place, Tristan would help him upstairs, and as he got to his room, the brother would walk back to his car.
This encounter lived in Jack's mind, with him texting Donovan about it the next morning, hoping to gain some more information on this mysterious brother. Donovan's reply did not give him much, as he texted, "He's super quiet, I think I've only really spoke to him like, twice." With his investigation yielding nothing, Jack would think, "It's not even my place to care, at least I got a ride back from him."
Winter break was now approaching, and the frat was planning a retreat to the mountains. Jack was excited, as it would be his first real outing with the brothers. While on FaceTime with his parents, he packed his suitcase, with them constantly repeating to pack warm clothes. With them once again crying over how much they missed him, he gave them a last kiss goodbye, and made his final preparations for the trip.
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The drive up to the mountains was full of laughter and noise, with Jack joining Donovan and his boyfriend. The other brothers were coming with their partners as well, but Jack had decided to go solo, despite plenty of people wanting to go alongside him. Hours felt like minutes as they finally arrived at their winter cabins, Jack found his room, conveniently placed right next to Donovan's on the second floor. Exhaustion from the journey had finally set in, and after the frat took their photos together, Jack retreated to his room to get some much-needed rest. The outside cold was negated by the warm sheets, and before he knew it, Jack was out cold.
Waking up well rested, the house was already full of activity, with the smell of food cooking downstairs, and others playing football in the cold, it was a morning full of action. Jack decided to stay in his room for a few more minutes, with the blanket holding him prisoner with its warmth. He looked out of his window to see if anything interesting was going on, but didn't notice much, as his window was on the back side of the house, overlooking the woods. Just as he was about to get out of bed, something caught his eye. Glancing back outside, he saw none other than Tristan emerge, dumbbells in hand. He would begin working out in the snow, and Jack was unable to draw his attention away, admiring Tristan's toned body.
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Tristan looked up, straight into Jack's window. In a flash, Jack moved away from the window, hoping he wasn't caught looking. "Fuck." he silently thought to himself. As he got ready to go downstairs, he racked his brain for an excuse as to why he was spying on Tristan, but ultimately decided that if he didn't bring it up, it wouldn't be an issue. Breakfast was laid out on the table upon him finally getting downstairs, and the house was empty, with most of the brothers deciding to go up the mountain together. He reheated some pancakes and sausage, and scrolled through social media as he ate.
A few minutes later, Tristan appeared in the kitchen as well, grabbing whatever leftovers remained, and heating it up. Jack's mind started racing, "What if he really did see me?" "Would he confront me about it?" Tristan would simply walk back to his room, food in hand. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, and continued eating. After eating, he decided to explore the area near the cabin, finding a wooden path near the mountains, and a lake near that. There was a set of hills by the lake, and Jack kept this fact in mind as he continued exploring. As the sun started to go down, Jack wanted to spice things up, and so decided to not only scale those hills, but ski down them. He wasn't the most skilled skier, but he had skied hills like this before, so he thought it would be simple.
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It was a stupid plan, but Jack loved the risk. He went back to his room to get his gear, and decided it would be best to go shirtless, wanting to feel the cool air directly on his skin. Scaling up the hill, Jack already felt his muscles become sore, as he underestimated how high up the hill went. As he got to the top, he began to realize just how steep this hill was, but he had to make it back down regardless, and so with a shrug, he began skiing down. Snow washed over him, and as he began to gain speed, he started to lose control of his footing. With his muscles close to giving out, he found it harder to maneuver around the many obstacles in his way. In an instant, he tripped over a rock hidden under the packed snow, and was sent flying. The snow was much deeper than he thought, and now he was trapped. Unable to move under the thick snow, and having neglected to bring his phone with him, Jack began to truly understand how screwed he was.
He called out for help, hoping someone, anyone, was still outside at this time. With each minute that passed, it would seem as if nobody would come for him, and hopelessness settled in. Just as the last bits of warmth left his body, he would feel arms surround him. In a state of confusion, Jack had thought this was truly the end, and he was being lifted to the afterlife. As he was brought above the snow, his rescuer became clear, it was Tristan. "Why did you come here alone?" Tristan asked. "I just wanted to ski down the hill." Jack would respond shamefully. Before the two walked back, Tristan took off his sweater and gave it to him, revealing his muscular body underneath. "Thank you." Jack said, as the sweater warmed up his chilly body. A blush came over his face as he tried not to look at Tristan's shirtless body.
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As their silent walk back to the cabin drew to a close, Jack decided to make one more risky move for the night. Reaching a hand to Tristan's chest, he looked up at him, and said, "I'm still feeling kinda chilly, but I know a way we could both warm up." Tristan looked down, his gaze piercing straight through Jack. Wordlessly, Tristan began kissing Jack, to which he returned the favor. Jack's cold lips warmed up quickly as the heat of their kiss started a fire in him. Tristan lifted Jack up effortlessly, and Jack wrapped his legs around his waist, anchoring their two bodies together. Countless kisses would be exchanged as the two approached Tristan's room. With the door slightly open, Tristan backed into his room, and Jack would close the door behind him, locking it as well.
Now in the comfort of Tristan's room, desire had overtaken both of them, with kisses no longer being enough. As Tristan's bulge became more prominent, Jack released himself and pulled Tristan's sweatpants down. His tongue explored every inch of his cock, only releasing to get air. Jack felt Tristan's hands move to the back of his head, and before he knew it, Jack's head was being thrust into Tristan's dick. Choking on it, Jack resisted the urge to gag, as he felt his throat being filled with cock. Precum dripped from Tristan's tip, and Jack licked it clean, smiling at him.
With the two finally making it on to the bed, Tristan stuck his cock into Jack's hole, to which he winced as each inch entered him. While Jack was already filled, Tristan was only halfway in. "Fuck, that's only half?" Jack said, his face now flush with heat. Tristan replied, "You said you wanted to warm up, I'm just giving you what you want." With that, he thrust into Jack, shoving the rest of his cock into him. A loud scream almost escaped Jack's mouth, but he stifled it by biting his lip. He felt it up to his chest, and each thrust put him closer and closer to the edge. The friction had caused his hole to burn up, but the heat was comforting, warming him up even more. Tristan felt down Jack, laying burning kisses all over him, to which Jack released gasps and moans in response, a clear indicator of his pleasure. With both wanting release, Tristan would position Jack’sbody perfectly with his, and as thrusts and kisses mixed, both bodies tensed in unison, as cum filled up Jack's hole. At the same time, Jack came as well, splattering it right onto Tristan's chest. Jack licked it up as well, still burning hot. The two settled in the bed, neglecting to clean up as exhaustion and warmth washed over them.
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The next morning, the two would emerge from Tristan's room, hair still in shambles from the events of last night. Donovan was still in the house, and, noticing the two coming out at the same time, gave Jack a knowing smile. From then on, Jack would rarely return to his room after that, with him only going up to change. He now had Tristan to keep him warm whenever he wanted, and the two were barely seen out of Tristan's room. The rest of the trip went excellent for him, as he finally decided to go up the mountain, accompanied by Tristan, of course. Jack felt that he was on top of the world, and it was much better with Tristan being on top of him.
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enchantedlandcoffee · 2 months
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list your favourite fics? 🙏🏻
Ooh I could be here for a while. I'll list my top 10-15 fics for you anon <3 (also in no particular order)
you were in my dream by @harruandlou
wind beneath my wings by @lunarheslwt
the devil and the deep blue sea by @kingsofeverything
unrequited by @babyhoneyheslt
the pros and cons of breathing by @hellolovers13
blue moon by @aquietlarrie
lost cat, found love by @wemadethishome
apple pie baked just right by @28goldens
the wind it held us up by @itsnotreal
"are there any gays in here?" by @red-pandaaa
station 28 by @justahappycloud
to haunt a heart by @givesuethemoon
the games we play by @wishingforloushair
desperation was my sanctuary by @insightfulinsomniac
sunshine, baby! by @harruandlou
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quesadillayuri · 6 months
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do u guys ever think about how the partners of those on the qsmp are gods and/or godesses in the lore. unrelated did u know that tommyinnit and tubbo underscore are legally married. just thought that was interesting.
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Tubbo is, admittedly, not the best person. 
He’s kind of a bit of a dick. He’s reckless, doesn’t have much regard for his own personal safety, let alone others, and he can be callous and rude and prickly and blunt. He’s not afraid to push buttons, literally or metaphorically, and he can be... explosive. Destructive, even. To say the least.
On further introspection, Tubbo realizes that he’s actually a lot more than a bit of a dick. 
He doesn’t deserve this though. Probably.
Tubbo can’t remember much, but he’s almost entirely sure that he’s done nothing to deserve this. Literally no crime ever committed, ever, is worth this punishment.
“I hate you,” Tubbo sighs, for the ninetieth time in the past four minutes, “I hate you so much.” He pulls off his jacket, slipping his arms out of the sleeves and tossing the jacket in the general direction of the prick that can’t quite leave him alone. Tommy recoils at the jacket thrown across his face suddently, letting out a —incredibly cathartic for Tubbo— squak of surprise. Tubbo stomps away, leaving Tommy to reel away in his overblown, exaggerated horror at Tubbo’s dastardly actions, or whatever.
“This is, quite literally, very homophobic of you, Toby,” Tommy says, all faux-shock and concern, like Tubbo will believe him for a second. “Truly just so homophobic, I’m writing a twitlonger as we speak because Jesus, Toby—”
“You’re not even gay!” Tubbo bites out, left eye twitching. He stomps away, leaviTommy gasps at this, and Tubbo reminds himself that wringing his neck is not an option, despite it looking more and more appealing by the second.
“Oh, and how do you know that?” Tommy argues, walking right on Tubbo’s heels, “You really can’t base things on stereotypes, Toby, it’s incredibly offensive, you know? Just because I look straight and sound straight and act straight and— Oh, hi Em— say I’m straight doesn’t mean I am. What about me is straight to you?”
“Well, maybe the girlfriend, if I had to hazard a guess,” Tubbo says sarcastically, “Although I suppose that’s not relevant right now?”
He’s joking, obviously, because it’s very relevant.
“Oh Toby— Toby, Toby, Toby. Sweet, young Toby,” Tommy starts, and Tubbo knows he is not planning on stopping, “Of course, that’s not relevant. I’m talking about our marriage!”
“We’re not married,” Tubbo says, for the one-hundred ninetieth time in the last five minutes. 
“Oh, ho-ho, but we are!” Tommy says, and Tubbo weighs the pros and cons of killing himself rapidly and graphically by throwing himself out of the nearest possible window. The pros are not currently outweighing the cons, but with how this conversation is going, they probably will soon.
“Sign the fucking divorce papers, Tommy,” Tubbo sighs, a little angry about how long this has been going on for, but mostly tired and resigned. And angry, because Tommy’s neck is looking so, so wringable right now, but mostly tired.
Tommy just laughs, and disappears in that frustrating, echoey way they all do. Em’s never far behind him, but Tubbo dispairingly turns to her at the kitchen counter anyway, for his own comfort. To her credit, she does offer him a smile, but at best it’s pitying, and at worst it’s amused. Tubbo thinks it might be both.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I think we both know it’s going to take more than that to get him to sign those papers,” Em says, and Tubbo groans.
“Why don’t you tell him?” Tubbo asks, desperate, but knowing the answer anyway.
“Because this way, it’s—”
“One thousand times funnier,” Tubbo finishes for her. He lacks the energy to even attempt to mock Tommy’s tone, but Tubbo hears his voice ringing in his head anyway. Em laughs, and then she disappears too. Tubbo squints at the place where they both were, like if he stares for long enough they will both reappear as reasonable, normal, willing-to-sign-the-divorce-papers sort of people. They don’t, because God hates Tubbo, and the world hates Tubbo, and the universe hates Tubbo.
The only thing that the universe did right was make sure that Tommy didn’t have the foresight to make him sign a prenup. At least Tubbo can get Tommy’s money when he finally signs the divorce papers.
If he ever signs the divorce papers.
Tubbo slams his head against the wall again.
-
Tubbo_: never get married
pactw: ?
Tubbo_: dont do it pac
pactw: ???????
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May I offer you all some Wilmon in these AO3-is-down trying times? We'll get through this withdrawal 😭
Growing up, Simon didn’t stop to think much if he wanted kids or not. He loved his family, loved his sister, loved his mum, (loved his dad,) loved getting to see his little cousins grow over videocalls from South America – but he never stopped to think about himself.
He remembers a fleeting thought he had once, when he was very young, around twelve or thirteen, and figured out he was definitely gay, that it would take some extra steps to have children. He would never have them on accident. He couldn’t decide overnight, talk to his partner, and start trying the next day with a real possibility of making a baby on that very same day.
Then he put that thought inside a mental folder and left it there for the longest time.
He believes that it’s a natural progression to start thinking about it again once you’re in a committed relationship, even if it’s to decide it’s not for you. But he is aware that his thought process wasn’t the same as everyone else’s.
It started with random mental images, when he and Wille got out of school and into the world – well, the world and the military. Back when Simon was studying and working to afford his own flat in Stockholm and, some nights, he would have Wille there on his couch, in his small living room, laughing over a stupid series they’d put on, or pouring coffee for him the next morning.
He would watch Wille shrug on a suit jacket, looking very dapper for the morning meeting, and accept his goodbye kiss. Then Simon would finish gulping down breakfast, put on his flannel shirt, and leave his flat fifteen minutes later. He would lock the door behind him and wonder how earlier he would have to wake up if he had to drop kids with someone, or would they have a nanny? Or maybe Wille would take them?
The thoughts assaulted him without warning and were gone just as quickly. During Wille’s trips, how would Simon manage alone? What if they were both travelling? Could Wille’s children even travel with him? He remembered something about how two heirs straight in line for the throne couldn’t take the same mean of transportation, for safety reasons, which is why Wille didn’t travel with his mother, but did that apply to a toddler?
Simon didn’t ask for the longest time as well, because he didn’t want to open that discussion. He wanted to know if Erik had travelled with his mother when he was a baby; his fingers itched to google it, find pictures or articles, just so he could know.
But he didn’t ask, because back then he wasn’t even sure if he could take the pressure of marrying Wille, even though he was doing nothing to stop that natural progression.
The thoughts would come and go. Sometimes, they disappeared for months on end and Simon would just live his life and worry about more pressing matters, like his uni finals or Sara’s recent breakup. Other times, they would come in the form of his children having panic attacks over being in line for the throne.
Moving into the palace with Wille drew a line in his life, which is why he didn’t do it lightly. It definitely took longer than it would if Wille weren’t the fucking Crown Prince, because Simon felt ready to move in with him straight out of school. But he had spent his years weighting the pros and cons and decided Wille was worth everything and that they could figure it out together.
Living with him in one of the royal palaces, and therefore having more money to spare, brought a wave of baby thoughts to Simon’s mind. They had all this space, all this money, all this support. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard? He knew, rationally, that money would never be a problem, but Simon would have a hand in supporting his own children, and now he was feeling like he could reach that point.
He began to understand, then, how rich people’s minds work. Simon was working, but with a better job and a better salary, and he didn’t have to pay rent. He didn’t have to pay for cleaning supplies or spend one day a week scrubbing his flat. He spent a lot less on groceries, because food simply appeared in the kitchen cabinets and in the fridge. He didn’t have to pay water or electricity bills.
He had all this money monthly deposited into his account and he didn’t have to spend even half of it, which meant it only grew, even with taxes. It got to a point when Wille told him he should have a talk with the royal accountant, to learn how to put it in better funds and investments. To learn how much he had to spare for his own enjoyment.
It turned out to be a ridiculous amount. Nothing compared to the numbers he had pried from Wille about the royal accounts, but a ridiculous amount for a twenty-three-year-old working-class man from Bjärstad just beginning his career. Probably enough, if he braved into that line of thinking, to raise a kid.
One day, almost a year later, Queen Kristina nonchalantly talked about the Act of Succession over brunch, when they were discussing the christening of the daughter of one of Wille’s second cousins. Simon had never bothered to read the Act of Succession, because that had felt too big, so he learnt it for the first time in her voice while buttering a piece of toast.
She started by saying that the heirs have to belong to the Church of Sweden and profess “pure evangelical faith”, whatever that means. Wille doesn’t exactly do that apart from his cross necklace, but Simon didn’t point that out.
The heirs must be born in wedlock from a marriage approved by the monarch, and they must be brought up in Sweden. It’s an absolute primogeniture.
By then, Simon knew he was going to marry Wille. He had known from the moment he had moved into the palace, because why would he make that decision if he didn’t plan to marry him? And he knew Wille wanted to marry him, too. And he figured that Kristina approved, otherwise she wouldn’t even let Simon into her palace.
Simon also figured that she didn’t give that talk because she was afraid of illegitimate heirs – because, honestly, Wille wasn’t going to run around cheating on him and getting people pregnant. No, Simon was pretty sure that she was saying that to remind them that they needed to get engaged. Simon knew she was getting restless after seven years; Sweden was getting restless, if the tabloids and tweets were anything to go by.
So, when he was twenty-four and Wille had just turned twenty-five, Wille made a show of proposing and giving him his grandfather’s ring. Simon cried, even though he had been expecting it. From then on, his mind was pretty preoccupied with the wedding and everything it entailed.
A wedding and a marriage, in their situation, very much entailed future children, but neither of them focused on that.
They had one conversation the summer after they got engaged. Kristina had been particularly generous with the talk about grandchildren that day, like she couldn’t wait to have them, which was the same thing she spewed every time since her 60th birthday earlier that year.
“I don’t know why she’s so insistent now,” Wille said when they climbed into bed. “She had Erik at thirty-one. That’s enough time away for us.”
Simon didn’t answer immediately because, for one of the first and only times, he could see her point of view clearly and didn’t disagree with it.
She had to ensure heirs, sure, and turning sixty probably put life into perspective for her. But also, the monarchy had never done this, the whole gay Crown Prince couple. Were there any laws that needed changing? Would the kids need to be biologically Wille’s or would adoption be just as valid? And who knew how long that process would take. Maybe they did need to start thinking about it then so they could have a legitimate kid by thirty-one.
Simon was quiet for too long, lost in thought, and Wille pushed up against the pillows so he was more vertical. He spoke softly, “Hey, I know you’ve… mentioned it before, but… do you really want kids? I mean, I– I don’t really have much of a choice, but you do.”
Simon raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Who else would you have them with?”
“I don’t want them with anyone but you,” he shrugged. “But it’s too big of a thing to push on you on top of everything else.”
Sensing Wille’s anxiety spiking, Simon also rearranged his pillows to face him better in a more sat up position. “Wille. I knew I would have to have kids if I married you.”
“Still…”
“I was fully aware of it.”
“I don’t want to force you.”
“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” he scooted closer and took his hand. “Do you feel forced?”
Wille shrugged again, taking some time to choose his words. “In a way. Mamma always drilled it into our heads that we needed to produce heirs. After Erik died… the last remaining chance I had to refuse went with him. She doesn’t want to pass on the lineage to her sister’s side, so I guess I just grew up always knowing I was going to have children. I never stopped to think in any other way.”
“You should, though.”
“No,” Wille shook his head. “I promise it’s okay. I do want children, so it’s okay. Still don’t know how to go about it, but… I want them. Do you?” he finished, a hint of nerves in his voice.
“I do,” Simon answered honestly, “I’m not going to lie and say that the fact that I want a life with you, the fucking heir to a country, doesn’t come into play, because that’s too big to ignore. But I think it’d be cool to have a few babies with you,” he smiled. “Just a few, though. No more than three, for fuck’s sake.”
It got Wille laughing, which is Simon’s goal in conversations with him ninety-nine percent of the time, and the subject was mostly dropped.
It was dropped between the two of them for the time being, but their parents didn’t have the same idea. Cousins started having kids occasionally. Simon has a distant cousin on his dad’s side and news somehow travelled to his mum about his baby being born. Apart from Wille’s second cousin who had the christening, his first cousin Eleonora gave birth to a bubbly baby boy as well.
The comparison was even worse because they are mostly “older cousins” in their families, born from the eldest sibling. In their generation, Simon is only second to Sara on his mum’s side, and Sara had barely even started another relationship, nowhere near ready for children. Wille is also the second, since Erik died, behind only Eleonora in age. That, in their parents’ minds, automatically meant that they were supposed to start the new generation before everyone else, and they were already late.
And they were responsible for the country’s next leader, so no pressure.
Their initial deal, as a couple, was to revisit the conversation when they felt like it. Apart from outside pressure, the two of them didn’t have the urge, the need for children right away. It was always something for some day. Something for eventually. Something for when we’re not drowning in royal adulthood.
Simon doesn’t know what triggers it. Maybe he isn’t as immune to the passage of time as he thought, or maybe the comments start getting to him. Either way, those assaulting mental images have been building up in frequency and complexity, until one day Simon finds himself slowly pacing one of their spare bedrooms in Haga Palace, a week before his twenty-ninth birthday.
That is how Wille finds him near dinnertime, after calling out for him a couple of times. “Hey, what’re you doing hiding in here?”
Simon doesn’t answer immediately. Wille is still dressed in his daily formal clothes, having just come home, and Simon’s eyes automatically pan up and down his body, even with his head kilometres away. He sees Wille stepping closer to greet him, but lets his eyes lose focus. He interrupts Wille’s leaning in when he finally speaks. “Do you think this is too far away from our room?”
At Wille’s head tilt that he catches with the corner of his eyes, Simon meets his gaze. Wille asks, “What do you mean?”
Simon knows what he himself means, although he finds it hard to say out loud. Sure, they don’t have a solid plan laid out, but he recalls Wille talking about how his mum had Erik at thirty-one and also how Simon himself rolled his eyes at Queen Kristina’s half-playful remark about giving them five years to have children since their wedding. It has only been half that long.
(Linda had Sara at twenty-three.)
“I mean,” he picks his words carefully, feeling restless and needing to continue walking around and gesticulating, “this room’s got one of the prettiest views of the garden, with the cherry tree, and it faces south, so it’s got sunlight year-round. And I know there are, like, three more guest rooms like this along the corridor, but they’re all so big, no matter how much stuff we try to put in them, but also, is this too far away from our room? And it would be weird to have a few guest bedrooms and random rooms between ours and…” his voice trails off.
Slowly, an amused smile grows on Wille’s face. “You’re asking if this is too far away to walk in the middle of the night every two hours? Because yes.” Wille steps closer to him again, drawing Simon to a stop so he can comb a hand through his curls. “You’ve been worrying your pretty mind about this all day?”
“No, not just today,” Simon confesses, and then bites his lip briefly. “And I’m not… worrying, I’m… brainstorming.”
“Brainstorming.”
“Yes.”
“Simon,” Wille says with the same amused smile, “we’ve got another four potential bedrooms by our room, if you’d be willing to turn the music room and the gaming room. It even beats your limit of three kids. Why are you pacing the tiniest guest bedroom we have?”
Wille’s idea of tiny has never been the same as Simon’s.
Simon sighs and lets his shoulders drop. “Because… I don’t know,” he mutters, averting his gaze. “This room is… cosy. It’s…” He looks around. “Can you imagine a baby in one of those rooms? It’s ridiculous. They’re way too big for a baby. But then, what if when they grow up they resent us for not putting them in a bigger room? Do we just– Do we move their bedrooms? Is that what happened with you and Erik? Did you guys have smaller bedrooms closer to your parents when you were super young? Is that how this works? Because it would be weird to change their bedrooms. Wouldn’t it? I feel like it would. But I can’t think of a single room in this godforsaken palace that is appropriate for both a tiny baby and a rebellious teenager.”
Simon has lived in five bedrooms in his almost thirty years of life, but they changed when he changed houses. First, his childhood room in his parents’ flat, before his mum had saved enough money to move them out. Then in the house where his mum still lives. Then his Stockholm flat. Then the Drottningholm apartments. And now Haga (before he eventually moves back to Drottningholm someday). He can’t really picture moving inside the same place.
During the speech, Wille doesn’t lose his playful air, and Simon has no idea how. Maybe he is being ridiculous and there is a simple solution right in front of him, but he feels like, whatever he chooses, it will somehow be wrong, both from a parenting point of view and a royal point of view. He can’t say he is the best prince Sweden has ever had.
“Simon,” Wille says his name again, in that endearing way only he can, “why would it be weird to change their bedrooms as they grow? We’ve moved houses before and it wasn’t weird. People do that.”
“We’re adults, Wille, and we didn’t move inside the same house.”
“I did,” he shrugs. “I mean, I don’t remember much but, back when we lived at the Royal Palace, before my grandfather died, I know I had a room closer to my parents and then, at some point, I was moved closer to Erik. Then we were put in an adjacent wing to them when we moved to Drottningholm when I was seven, and I moved again when you came to live with me.”
All he is saying makes sense in a practical sort of way, and Simon knows Wille moved inside Drottningholm. Of course, if your house is a literal palace with hundreds of different apartments and available rooms, you can just… move from one side to the other and it will be like moving houses. You don’t keep the new-born in the same place as the sixteen-year-old heir. It makes sense. However, Simon grew up with the notion of His Room. People rent, buy, and build regular houses with those things in mind.
Simon frowns. “You were moved to that different wing when you were seven?”
Wille mirrors him. “Yes…?”
“You were a little kid and, when you guys moved, your parents put you in a completely different wing?”
“It’s not a different wing – it’s within the same apartments, just in a different portion of them, but it’s honestly not that far.”
Simon thinks back to sharing a thin wall with his sister and his parents’ room. “I’ve been there. It’s very fucking far.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It’s very far for a seven-year-old child to be from his parents.” Simon sighs, frustrated, and looks around. “And this is definitely too far as well. I just… This is smaller. It’s more fit for a baby.”
Now, Wille has dropped the playfulness and is instead searching Simon’s face with a more serious expression. He raises a hand and caresses his cheek, in an attempt to calm down his rambles, and it works, taking away a bit of concern with each swipe.
Simon knows how he sounds like right now, so he crosses his arms and doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m just… I’m brainstorming.”
Wille raises his eyebrows. “You weren’t brainstorming a few months ago.”
Simon shrugs, unsure of what he wants to say, unsure if he wants to start that discussion. To be honest, fucking terrified of opening up that line of discussion. Terrified of what they will tell him about how to raise his kids. Terrified of having to fight on every decision, even as small as wanting his children’s bedroom close to his.
“Hey.”
The whisper startles him into meeting Wille’s eyes.
“How about we talk over dinner? I’m starving, and I know you get cranky when you don’t eat,” he finishes with a slight upturn of his lips.
Simon wants to be petty and argue that he isn’t cranky right now, even though he very much is, although not because of hunger, but he finally lets himself register the fact that his husband is home with him after busy days for them both and how amazing that feels. How their guards aren’t inside with them and they can put on pyjamas and make a mess in the kitchen if they feel like it. And Simon feels like it.
An involuntary smile tries to creep up on Simon’s lips. He fights it, shoving Wille’s shoulder for good measure, and he is drawn back into a bone-crushing hug, which makes it really hard not to smile.
They do eventually talk very seriously about it later that night. Simon confesses that something in him is growing space and that that space is starting to feel empty. It’s not like he feels his life is empty – he is extremely happy to be living with someone he loves and being able to use the privilege of the royal name to do charitable work that is important to him –, but maybe, in a little while, he will crave more.
Wille watches him talk, and Simon realises he has got a dreamy expression on his face by the end of it. When questioned, Wille simply says that hearing him go on about having kids with him makes his heart burst and that it awakens something in him as well. There is definitely something about seeing your significant other around kids or talking about kids; Simon can verify. He knows he very nearly had a heart attack when he had to see, with his own two eyes, Wille playing with Eleonora’s son and glowing while doing it. So, he gets what Wille is saying.
With all the excitement of it, there is the downside. Simon knows he would be feeling uneasy even if he hadn’t entered the Royal Family, because his own dad wasn’t the best at being a dad. Plus, how does one even go about being a parent? How much will he actually sleep? How do you not fuck up a child?
He had entered the Royal Family, though, and married the heir apparent. Just his luck that it means he needs to have A Meeting™ with his mother-in-law/boss to say he wants to have kids.
He and Wille have a gameplay sort of ready, because they know they need to present a united front in this. Part of that involves having the meeting on their own turf, with their own rules about the attendees and level of formality.
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absolutebl · 11 months
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Hi.
I was watching TharnType for the first time. I started wondering why people have issues with gay for you and wifey and other things like that. From what I'm seeing it isn't intended in a harmful spirit. It's not received badly in the show in context. I'm not just specifically talking about TharnType but just these tropes in general. I was wondering if someone, the writer/screenwriter, director, any actor or someone else said that they'd intended it as demeaning or in a bad way... I don't know if I phrased that correctly. But I guess I'm wondering what people are basing this on. Even UWMA's Pharm's entire demeanor. Before I watched it I'd read that he is too feminine and damsel in distress-y. But watching the show made me realize that he is traumatized. I noticed similar patterns with other shows as well. Is it audience interpretations?
BL Is a Mess of Really Damaging Stuff & You Probably Shouldn't Just Accept it
Because, if you do just accept it without thought, you're also being damaged. If you're gay, you're being taught a type of gayness that doesn't exist and will fuck up your expectations. If you're straight you're misinterpreting what an entire group of people are like (that's prejudice, FYI). And if you're somewhere in between you're learning really bad behavior patterns for your coming out and self actualization journey.
And no, I don't think you're capable of distinguishing fiction from reality, because you've just asked a question that patently demonstrates a burgeoning parasocial tendency. (And yes, parasocial relationships can and do form with fictional characters. Why do you think I am so terrified by KinnPorsche fandom and shipper culture?)
Here have some education, first one is free:
Imaginary Friends & Real-World Consequences: Parasocial Relationships (YouTube video)
But also, if you don't want me to rant about this, and you just wanted to justify your questionable taste, you should stop reading right now. I get it, denial is great! Go sail that river.
Here I am talking about the good BL can do. That doesn't mean I'm blind to its flaws.
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Still reading?
Okay, well, now you asked for it.
And guess what, I'm not gonna sugar lube coat it.
Consider yourself Drunk Type lying in a bed and I'm Tharn's c*** shoving some dry BL reality into your a******.
Oh, don't like that image, do you?
Tough nuts.
Put yourself in my position. I don't wanna have to do this either.
Consider this a "BL narratives made me do it" post.
I'm not responsible for anything, I'm just an archetype.
I'll be your seme for today and you were all just "too cute" for me to resist and now you have to take some tumblr dub con...
But first:
Seme uke when it specifically conflates seme with "the man" and uke with "the girl" is old fashioned, anti-feminist, and anti-queer. Here's some of where I talk about it, but I talk about it a lot. Too much, some might say.
Pharm is a blushing maiden archetype character, I talk about it and what that means here:
It's sex negative. And a lot of it stems from internalized misogyny and ties to something called benevolent sexism. It's pretty rampant in BL.
Yes I think Pharm's behavior can be perceived as traumatized, but that trauma is brought about by In's past actions and the fact that In was punished (BY THE NARRATIVE) not just for being gay but for being a self-actualized pro-sex uke character.
There is a distinction being made between critical discourse over narrative versus how the characters behavior makes an audience feel (within the immersive experience of the drama). Some viewers care about this distinction, others do not.
I very much get why someone might like TharnType (I did) but actually also, you might want to think about why you like it despite the messages the narrative is sending... You might want to think about not just the characters in their little perfect romance world together, but consider if you were in the position of either of those characters how you would feel or behave.
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And NOW the Dub Con Portion of tonight's BL party
Okay I was trying to be my usual semiseme-welcoming snark self but ya know what, let's be VERY FUCKING CLEAR HERE because I am jet lagged and tetchy....
We (the collective of BL critics here on tumblr) aren't always talking about WHAT is depicted so much as HOW it's depicted, and whether that HOW allows the WHAT to skate by without encouraging the audience to reflect on the damage the WHAT does to their own perception of what is romantic. Or what is queer. Or what is morally acceptable for decent human interaction.
Like thinking, for example, that it's okay for Tharn to RAPE Type while he is drunk.
Why on earth is that okay? It's NOT OKAY. It's just NOT!!!!
Did Type ask for it?
Did he dress too sexy?
Was his skirt too short?
Was he too much of a jerk?
Did he want it anyway?
Did he not protest enough?
Did he protest too much?
You gonna make that call for him, are you? You read his mind (apparently the way Tharn can?)
But SERIOUSLY.
What if you were actually in Type's position? Roommates with someone you didn't like who molested you when you were drunk. At home. In your own bed. What if that roommate didn't look like Tharn? What if your roommate were the wrong gender or body type or age or familial relationship (!) for your preferences? How would you actually feel?
Because if you're okay with this, really okay for yourself, you have a strong kink and you need to seek out the appropriate community or you are signing up for a very abusive relationship and likely an early death.
Can't put yourself in Type's shoes/bed?
How about Tharn?
Are you the kind of human who would molest a drunk person just because you desired him? Her?
Because they're homophobic and you want to punish them with your queerness?
Because they were a jerk to you?
You always get back at people by raping them?
You an old white dude putting your hand down secretary's shirts because they're just "too cute to resist"?
Why should you have to resist taking what you want? Who cares that there is a whole other human involved?
Grabbing ladies by the pussy any chance you get and bragging about it, are ya? Or is it somehow different or less damaging because TT is dude on dude?
So, are you gonna justify taking what you want and violating another person because they're the same sex?
Now who's being "gay for you"? This is going all the way into DL closet case "it doesn't count if it's with a man" territory.
Because if you are any of the above 8, please block me right tf now. (And... do I have a world leader to recommend for YOU to get into a car with.)
GAH!
Fucking TharnType.
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Anygay...
I talk about dub con here:
My initial post about TharnType is here, but more recently here's us having a whole ThanType discourse unpacking Mame among other things as part of the BL movement both as a genre and as a fandom:
and here's an important article on rape culture in Thailand
Gay for you talked about here:
Wife language talked about here:
I'm gonna go watch some BL trash that, hopefully, doesn't have any rape in it. (You never know tho...)
Fuck me (consensually) I am so tired.
I'd drink but I did too much of that already this week.
Maybe I need to eat something.
Don't troll m,e just block me.
For heaven's sake please.
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(source)
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corrodedbisexual · 10 months
Text
Like a cannonball
Steddie | M | ~3.3k | AO3 link
Written for @thefreakandthehair's wonderful summer challenge. I'm glad there were still some unclaimed prompts when I showed up late with Starbucks. 🥰 Prompt: cannonball.
Featuring: Fluff and Humor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers (idiots to lovers more like), Getting Together, Drinking, Marijuana, Summer, Moving In Together, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington's slutty shorts
Snippet below!
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“Be careful, you might have to sweep me out of here with a broom or something in the end.”
“You can stay if you want.” Steve shrugs, a tiny roll of his shoulders. 
“You asking me to move in, Stevie?” Eddie chuckles. “Geez, buy a lady a drink first.” 
“You’re not a lady,” Steve points out.
Yeah, that’s kind of the whole point, Eddie thinks. He winces. 
“I guarantee you, you don’t want me living with you.”
Steve frowns at him. 
“Why? The way I see it, the pros outweigh the cons.” Steve sits up, cross-legged next to Eddie, and starts bending the fingers on his hand one by one as he talks. “I know for a fact that you can cook. You always pick good movies to watch. You know how to fix shit when I’ve got two left hands. You’re great company and fun to be around. You always have weed on you.” 
Eddie snorts. 
“And the cons?”
Steve appears to be thinking for a moment.
“Well, your music is terrible. Hey!” He yelps as Eddie throws at him the nearest thing in reach, which turns out to be an empty beer can. “Okay, your music is terrible and you’re really sensitive about that, but I’m gonna count that as one. Two, uh…” He stares at his hand with only one bent forefinger. “Actually, I got nothing.”
“I’m messy as fuck,” Eddie supplies.
“Eh.” Steve shrugs. “I’ve been to your room Eds, I wouldn’t put that under messy as fuck. You’re not like, a serial hoarder, or something.”
“Wayne always complains about my hair clogging the drain.”
“Baking soda and vinegar. It’s not rocket science.”
“I’m gay, Steve.”
Eddie stares up at the ceiling, and the silence that follows his words feels like an eternity, even though realistically, it’s probably only a few seconds.
“Okay,” Steve says, and his voice sounds… fuck, like Eddie just told him his Zodiac sign, or something. Eddie turns his head slowly to find Steve smiling. “I thought we were listing the cons here.”
Read on AO3
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