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#this is about the type of family who... y'know force you into the uncomfortable shit
ezrile · 3 years
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I'm not a doll.
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cornerofcaelest · 2 years
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Platonic Toko and Byakuya Things!
Oops so now I have Toko and Byakuya on the brain. I know people have said almost anything and everything about this, but I wanted to add some stuff and ramble a bit! Toko and Byakuya both mean sooo much to me as characters and the idea of them some day actually getting along has my entire heart and soul.
Spoilers for Trigger Happy Havoc and Ultra Despair Girls!
So obviously we need some time here, right. Listen I love them both but they need time apart and such; this doesn't happen overnight
I need some of that sweet, sweet Toko development first. Y'know once she stops idolizing them and sees them as an actual human being. Also how badly they treated her and vice versa. Basically, we need to throw out the entire dynamic and start fresh
Mutual apologies should probably happen and to be quite honest, I've wanted to write that out for months, but I can't decide exactly when or how it would happen, so I haven't. But I love the idea to bits.
Anyways AFTER all of that gets squared away, I genuinely think they'd make amazing friends in a weird way
They're both sarcastic, sharp, and cocky depending on the circumstance.
Like yes, Toko is e x t r e m e l y insecure, but never once does she put down her skills, and on some level, she has moments where she displays pride and confidence, too.
And to be honest, isn't Byakuya insecure, too? They just don't express it in the same ways as Toko. Chapter 4 tings, ya know?
The sheer levels of sass between the two of them is iconic, and if they ever were aiming that sass at the same target, they wouldn't survive.
Gay best friends
I'm one of those people that headcanons Toko as a lesbian with a whole lotta comphet, and tbh I imagine something similar for Byakuya. Less comphet and more not understanding what attraction is even supposed to feel like until catching feelings for a guy for the first time. Absolutely primed and ready to force themselves into relationships with women for the sake of their family's tradition before realizing it's definitely not supposed to feel that uncomfortable.
Weirdly enough they have a lot in common. I don't know if they'd ever get super close, but in the event that they did, they'd be able to relate to each other on a lot of levels.
Also the discussions of literature mmMMM good shit.
Not that they ever have a ton of free time but in the event that they do, they could probably pass a lot of time just getting into healthy debates over interpretations of things
From the outside, it looks like they're about ready to murder each other, but they can go back to being civil on a dime
Also Byakuya giving some of Toko's stuff a chance just? Hits different?
Bro especially once Byakuya ends up in a relationship because I feel like then you can get a new appreciation for that type of thing. The cheesy shit feels a bit less stupid
Listen they hate that they like it but they do like it
speaking of dating y’ALL THE DOUBLE DATES??
Komaru would get super excited about it which would make Makoto super excited about it and both Toko and Byakuya don’t know how to say no.
In laws in laws in laws
Hello Naegami Tokomaru nation how are you doing
Damn honestly it’d just be cool if they got along. It’d be really, really neat if what remains of their class could all get along as a group. Mutual healing type beat
Gosh now I’m imagining Toko, Byakuya, Makoto, Kyoko, and Komaru watching a movie together while Toko and Byakuya just rip the entire story to shreds
(Kyoko tries to stay quiet, but she does eventually join in. Albeit with a bit more composure and grace than the other two)
Komaru and Makoto are just glad to see them getting along
This is very very specific, and who knows, maybe I’ll actually write this as a fic at one point, but I have an oddly specific headcanon regarding the events of UDG and Genocide Jack and such
With the events of the first killing game being broadcast, Genocide Jack’s identity obviously becomes public, and that would cause a lot of extreme consequences for the system as a whole.
After she actually heals (ACTUALLY as an individual, not just Toko trying to control her switches) and genuinely decides to turn over a new leaf, I think Byakuya is the one who gets her, and by extension Toko, out of hot water.
They’re way too prideful to ever outright thank Toko and Jill for saving them, but in their own special, standoffish way, that’s how they return the favor- giving them that sort of Togami stamp of approval and speaking to their credibility overall
It all has a very professional air to it; however, it's the start of a rocky but good friendship
Overall that’s just how their friendship works in my head: they start spending more time together through other obligations or their significant others, and they come to the realization that they actually enjoy each other’s company when they aren’t verbally abusing and sexually harassing each other :'D
I think once they both do some serious healing, they could be really good for each other as friends. They'd get along better than both initially would think.
Thanks for reading my little rambles! I hope you enjoyed them! Hopefully I’ll write more about their dynamic someday soon. Like I said, I love them both dearly, so it’s fun to imagine!
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akamaiden · 5 years
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Entertainer (1)
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A/N: God, will I ever finish a fic without having ideas for a million others? This was clearly inspired by this song. I hope you like this one, I've been thinking about it for a long time. Don't forget to let me know your thoughts on this. I love you. 💕
Last note: This awesome moodboard was a gift from my kinky princess, @ivarsshieldmadien. Kalen, my darling, this chapter is yours! 💕
Pairing: Ivar x Reader (modern AU).
Warnings: Language? Sexy thoughts? Nothing too serious.
Words: 2,160.
Friday barely started and you were already checking on the clock, counting down the minutes to go home. You simply weren't in the mood to those ridiculous pick up lines and worse, the drunk men that were always trying to get into your pants. But what could you do? You needed to pay the bills and unfortunately, that place gave you a good salary.
You were watching the show that Natasha was putting on the stage, all eyes were on her. God, she was amazing. Usually, when she was dancing everyone stopped to watch but today three men were talking non stop and that was driving you crazy.
“C’mon we know that all you need is a drink,” one of them said.
“Damn right, you beautiful lady, my brother needs whiskey he's not in the mood today,” said the other.
You fought the urge to roll your eyes at them and went prepare their drinks.
“Three doses I suppose,” you said when you approached them.
“Exactly, what a smart lady we got here,” one of them joked.
“Can you be more stupid brother?” said the only one who was quiet.
“Shut the fuck up Ivar. We're trying to make you feel better,”
“Well, someone has to talk, you two are failing so badly. Your brother is about to kill you both just looking at you,” you said smiling.
That was enough to make the angry brother look at you for the first time in the night. He checked every detail he could get and you couldn't stop but blushed under his intense gaze.
“She’s right,” he smiled to you rapidly before turning his attention to his brothers once again.
“Hm I see she has the same humor as you, Ivar,” the redhead said.
“Let them be alone, let's enjoy the show. Come Ubbe,” and with that you were alone with Ivar.
“Ivar right?” you said.
He nodded while he was looking at his glass.
“Rough night?” you tried a conversation.
“Rough day,” he answered.
“If this comforts you, the day is almost over,” you said.
“You got a point,” he said.
“Oh c'mon in a matter of time you'll be back on the arms of the supermodel type of woman that you call girlfriend and you'll have an amazing time and everything will be fine again. Be patient kid,” you said.
Ivar couldn't help but laugh at your words. If all his problems could be solved with sex.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m Y/N,” you said extending your hand for him, but surprisingly he picked your hand and kissed it.
“Unexpected,” you said trying to ignore the electricity that you felt when his lips touched your skin.
“Not used to this kind of thing I suppose,” he teased.
“No, not really,” you said.
“C’mon you must have a boyfriend to kiss every inch of your body,” he said.
“Actually, I'm single,” you said shrugging.
“Oh that's bad,” he said.
“I’m not looking for a man, Ivar. I'm fine alone. You guys can be problematic sometimes,” you said.
“I wasn't looking for a woman too and look what I've got,” he said showing you his marriage ring.
“Wow, aren't you full of surprises?” you said laughing.
“Yeah, you can say that,” he said.
Before you could feel uncomfortable with the silence, he talked again.
“If you're not looking for a man, what do you want then?”
“Basically, money. I have a family to take care, so one million wouldn't be that bad y'know?” you said.
That made Ivar raised one eyebrow at you. Most of the girls wanted money for their own good, but you were thinking about your family in first place.
“Something wrong with your family? If you're okay to talk. No pressure here,”
“Uh basically when my mom discovered the cancer my father simply disappeared. And I wasn't working at that time and also I have a little sister… It was a living hell,” you said.
“Shit, that's bad. Looks like you really need some money,” he said.
“Yeah… What about you, Ivar? Why you look so sad?” you said touching his chin with your nails.
You watched the way Ivar closed his eyes and breathed heavily when you touched him. God, this whole situation is dangerous, you thought.
“I’m stuck in a shitty life. Working in a company I don't want to run in the future, married with a woman that doesn't love me, anything works for me,” he said.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Ivar,” you teased him. “I’ll give you another dose, okay? Whiskey always helps,” you said serving him again.
“It’s a good way to start,” Ivar said smiling.
“If I can help you with something else,” you said.
Oh little one, I'm sure as hell that you can help me, Ivar thought while smiling devilishly to you.
“Do you dance like her?” he asked.
“Not that gracefully but yes, I dance,” you said.
It took you less than one minute to read Ivar's gaze upon you.
“Do you want me to dance for you?” you asked.
“If that's okay for you, obviously,” he said.
“Well,” you started. Who were you trying to fool? Ivar was for sure one of the hottest guys you ever saw in your entire life and he was interested in you, you could say that only looking at him. He wanted you, and obviously you wanted him as well. The only problem was the ridiculously big marriage ring on his hand. But what harm one dance could do, right?
“I usually don't do that, but I can already tell you're the kind of guy that we must open exceptions,” you said leaving the bar and making your way to him.
“You’re spoiling me,” he said.
“You look like a child that just lost his favorite toy, Ivar. I have a little sister, remember? This kind of thing touches my heart,” you said now facing him.
You were internally thanking to all the forces that ruled the universe because you were wearing something sexy and not the usual leggings and t-shirt bands. The black skirt and the red corset fitted your body perfectly, putting on evidence every curve of your body. And the high heels were like the cherry on top of your look.
“Well, hello gorgeous,” Ivar said once he could look at you from head to toes.
“Do you like what you see Ivar?” you asked even knowing the answer.
“Fuck yes, I fucking like what I'm seeing,” he said and his hands were about to touch you but you stopped him.
“No touching, sweetheart” you said next to his ear while holding his hands.
He grunted in response.
“Are you that impatient?” you asked while you slowly started to dance.
“You don't have the slightest idea,” he said.
“Be a good boy and maybe next time I'll let you touch me,” you said when you started touching him. Your hands traced the muscles of his arms, his legs and before he could complain about it, you sneaked one of your hands into his shirt, you scratched his lower abdomen earning a low grunt of him.
“That’s not fair,” he said between greeted teeth.
“And that's exactly why it's so funny,” you said smiling.
Your cheeky way was driving Ivar crazy, and even that you forbidden him to touch you, when he noticed his right hand was wrapped around your throat and that was enough to make you freeze.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Y/N,” he said.
At first, feeling his hand actually touching you was surprising, you felt that same electricity making a shiver run your entire body. But the way he wrapped his hand on your neck, he was used to that kind of thing. You could tell that only looking at him. And the way he said your name? That was enough to make you wet and desperate for him.
“Fuck Ivar,” you whispered softly, almost whimpered.
Ivar smiled seeing the way that you melted under his touch so easily. He couldn't actually see, but he was sure that if he touched you, he'd find you dripping wet and ready for him. The simple thought was enough to make his cock twitch on his pants.
“I fucking need you, Y/N,” he said.
“Stop saying my name like that, please,” you said.
“C’mon I know you want me to fuck raw, right here and right now, Y/N,” he insisted.
“Ivar,” you moaned softly. God, he was driving you crazy.
“C’mon Y/N is our time to go and wow. Am I interrupting something?” Laila said all of sudden.
And as soon it came, all that tension went way with the presence of your friend. You blinked a few times trying to organize your thoughts.
“No, of course no. I was just talking to him,” you said.
Ivar scoffed. Yeah, sure, you two were about to rip each others clothes and you resumed that just as a conversation.
“Okay so, Brad will come pick me up if you want we can take you home,” Laila said.
You thought about it for a while. The last time you accepted the ride, you ended up almost in a menage a trois.
“Uh, no I think the subway station it's not that far,” you said.
If Laila was disappointed with your answer she didn't let you know.
“Ok then, see you tomorrow darling,” she said and left you alone with Ivar.
“Okay, I gotta go Ivar,” you said without looking at him. You were avoiding him, because you were afraid that if you looked at him for one more second you'd jump on his lap.
“I’ll drive you home,” Ivar said simply.
“Look I don't know what you're thinking but I'm not that kind of girl,” you said.
“I’m thinking that you're smarter than risk that beautiful neck of yours to go to the subway station,”
“What about your brothers?” you tried.
“Well, they can take an Uber. Who cares?” he said shrugging.
“I guess it'd stupidity to deny right?”
“Well, it'd be for sure,” he said.
“Okay, you won. Take me home,” you said.
“Let me tell you something, little one. I always win. If I didn't win yet, it's because the game isn't over,” he said.
The way he said those words made your skin crawl. He wasn't talking about just the ride, he was talking about literally everything.
-
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said once you saw Ivar stopping and getting the keys of a Jaguar.
“What?” he asked.
“Is it your car? A fucking Jaguar?” you said.
“Well, yeah,” Ivar said nonchalantly.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Are you a CEO or the richest drug dealer in town?” you asked.
“I’m just an heir, my parents are rich as fuck so, I didn't see that much of glory in having a car like that,” he said shrugging.
“You’re strange,” you said but entered the car anyways.
“Where are we going, m'lady?” Ivar asked as soon as he entered the car as well.
“I’ll show you the way,” you said.
During all the way Ivar kept talking to you, asking literally anything, since when it was your birthday until what's your favorite color. He was really interested, you could see that. And you were interested about him as well, he was fascinating to say the very least.
“Okay, we arrived,” you said.
“Do you live here?” Ivar asked.
“Hm, yes…”
“You’re definitely crazy. This is one of the most dangerous zones in the city,” he started.
“It’s the cheapest zone. I hate living here, okay? But it's everything I can afford, I don't have rich parents, okay?” you said.
“Okay, sorry. I was just…” Ivar couldn't finish. What would he say? That he was worried with a girl that he met a few hours ago? That was insane.
“Look I gotta go,” you said.
“Wait. I don't have your number,” he said.
You thought for one or two minutes. That was bad, you were already seeing how this would end.
“Give me your phone,” you said.
Ivar smiled at you and gave you his phone. You scoffed seeing his iPhone.
“You know, one of those would pay all my bills. Like easily,” you said giving him the phone.
“Don’t be so dramatic, little one,” he said.
“Idiot,” you said and looked at him thinking about what would you do now. Kiss him on the cheek? Hug him? He didn't make any move and that was driving you nuts. You decided to caress his cheekbones but different from earlier, he didn't stop looking at you and that made you freeze.
“Sorry. Oh and thanks for the ride,” you said and without waiting for an answer you left the car and went to your house.
Not any second later you hear the sound of his Jaguar and wonder if you'd meet this mysterious man again. Honestly, you were craving for it. You needed to see Ivar again.
Tags: @therealcalicali @hallowed-heathen @cbouvier23 @nothingeverdies @grungyblonde @alicedopey @ivarslittlebadgirl @ivarlothbroks @ivarswickedqueen @laketaj24 @ivarsshieldmadien @holydream @moondustmemories @readsalot73 @stanclub @floatautumnleaf @flokidottir-imagines-br @thisishowdynastiesareborn @attorneyl @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @meeeeeeeeeps @dangerousvikings @feistybaby @ivaraddict @ivarsrideordie @lisinfleur
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ienveeus · 6 years
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namgi high school au
Part of my ongoing, non-linear  High School AU series
- 5th June, 2011   -          2nd December, 2010   -     21st October, 2011 - - 20th June, 2011       -        1st January, 2011       -       7th July, 2011 - - 18th February, 2011  -
HAVEN’T POSTED ANYTHING FOR THIS IN AGES BUT IT IS STILL IN FACT A THING HRGUIDHU
Here we go with part seven! 
18th February, 2011
‘Truth or dare?’
Yoongi can’t help but snort at Namjoon’s question. Can’t remember the last time he heard it, perhaps a couple years back in middle school, when everyone was a lot more interested in who likes who. Or perhaps when they were just a whole lot less subtle about it.
‘Truth or dare?’ Yoongi parrots back, tossing Namjoon a look in his peripherals. He sits with his back pressed against the side of the pick up truck’s trailer, Yoongi’s opted to lie down, feels a lone screw digging into his back but he doesn’t shift to remove it. ‘That’s what you’re going for? Pictured you more as the kinda guy to lie back and make up a bunch of constellations and all the stories to go with them.’
‘There’s no stars out tonight,’ Namjoon shrugs. ‘And even if there were, I don’t know any constellations.’
‘Really?’ Yoongi sits up, flicking the screw aside as he does so. ‘Figured you were the type.’
‘Always one to assume.’ Namjoon’s teeth glint in the moonlight. ‘Truth or dare?’
Yoongi shrugs. What’s the worst that could happen? ‘Dare.’
A low whistle splits the air between them, Namjoon looks positively delighted, cocking his head to the side as he surveys Yoongi’s face.
‘Brave of you.’
A seed of doubt wedges into Yoongi’s mind, increasing when Namjoon shuffles off to the side retrieving his bag and digging through the contents. When he turns back, he's got a wide grin on his face and something in his hand. Yoongi has to squint, and can't help but scoff when he sees the contents.
'And what are you planning on doing with that?' Yoongi cocks his head at what looks like something his mother would have in her ensuite, a purse of sorts, open so Yoongi can see that the contents are all various types of make up.
Namjoon's grin widens. 'Let me do your make up.'
'You're joking.'
'Nope,' Namjoon pops the 'p.' Wanna see what you'd look like.'
Yoongi watches Namjoon's fingers like a hawk, eyes narrowed in skepticism as they come across what Yoongi pins as mascara or something equally black and garish that won't come off easy.
'You're just gonna draw a giant dick on my face or something aren't you?' Yoongi mutters, beginning to regret this whole picking dare business.
Namjoon snorts and pulls out a little tube of something that Yoongi can't place. 'You picked dare, you're gonna have to bare the consequences.'
Out of fear of being labelled a wimp, Yoongi presses his lips closed and leans forward, allowing Namjoon to cup his chin and lean close into his space. He squeezes the little tube and squirts out a dollop of the liquid onto his finger, dabbing it on Yoongi's cheeks and under-eyes, the bridge of his nose and all the rest. It's a wonder Yoongi manages to hold himself together. The proximity between them non-existent and he has no idea where to put his eyes with Namjoon this close, sharing his airway, closer than he's been to any boy that isn't family.
'Not the best lighting,' Namjoon mutters to himself, pulling out a bottle of something and dabbing a fair amount on his hand. He's got a brush out, and begins painting the liquid over Yoongi's face, instructing him not to scrunch his nose at the chill.
'Don't blame the lack of lighting on your inability to do this.'
'I'll have you know I know my way around this bag of goodness.'
Yoongi huffs out a sigh, closing his eyes as Namjoon nears them with the brush. 'Shut up and get this over with.'
'Of course, your majesty.'
The closeness doesn't get any easier to handle. Yoongi keeps his eyes closed the majority of the time and hopes whatever substance Namjoon's painted his cheeks with is enough to cover the pink tinge that now permanently resides there. He goes over his work with a powder, brushes something across his eyelids and forces Yoongi's eyes open when the mascara finally makes an appearance in the way it's meant to be used as opposed to what Yoongi's ass friends might do.
There's a small argument when Namjoon comes at him with tweezers, insisting that plucking Yoongi's eyebrows is part of the dare but Yoongi is having none of that bullshit. When Namjoon huffs he blows his cheeks out and Yoongi refuses to think about how cute that is when Namjoon mutters about putting him in black lipstick now due to him being a shit.
When that's done and Namjoon's made him smack his lips together, touching up some little things he pulls out his phone, turns on the front camera and makes Yoongi look.
'Shit,' Yoongi hisses, not recognising the person staring back at him. In this lighting he looks so dark, like he imagines a twin sister of his might look like if she went through a goth phase. 'You actually did this seriously.'
Namjoon shrugs. 'Told you. Wanted to see what you'd look like. Now let me take a picture.'
Yoongi stiffens, glaring at him. 'No fucking way.'
'You're no fun at all.' He points a finger at Yoongi, eyes twinkling in the scant light. 'Your turn, sweetheart.'
Yoongi huffs, thankful his dignity is preserved for a little longer at least and there shouldn't be any remnants of this come morning. 'Truth or dare?'
'Truth.'
'Why do you have so much make up in your bag?'
'It was a thing I bought for Seokjin when he was in the school play last year, liked me doing his make up for him before shows. Now I just keep it around in my bag for times like this.'
'You're weird,' Yoongi says.
'And you're pretty,' Namjoon says without missing a beat. If he notices the struck look Yoongi gives him, he ignores it in favour of asking, 'Truth or dare?'
It carries on like this for awhile. Yoongi flicking between the two, whilst Namjoon takes a liking to dares. Namjoon asks about his most embarrassing moment, dares him to dance to a girl group song (this takes a lot of convincing) asks him about his first kiss. Yoongi gets Namjoon to text Seokjin a love confession, gives him a moustache with the mascara and has him do his own make up without the help of a mirror.
'Have you ever been in love?' Yoongi asks when Namjoon picks truth. He'd been running out of options, exhausting himself with trying to come up with something and in the end, curiosity had won out over appearing cool. Not like Namjoon gave a shit about images anyway, that was his whole thing.
Namjoon blinks at him, caught off guard by the question.
'Hard to say,' he says. 'I think I might've been. Been in a few relationships and I always get like, really involved, y'know? And I like them a lot. I told them I loved them and I think at the time I believed it but then looking back.' Namjoon shrugs. 'I don't know. It's really hard to say.'
Yoongi nods, biting his tongue from asking more questions. He tries to see if Namjoon looks uncomfortable with the intrusion, because it feels like it might've been. But Namjoon looks more thoughtful as he draws patterns into the dust. When he looks up, his eyes pierce straight into Yoongi's and Yoongi tries not to jolt in time with his heart.
'Truth or dare?' Namjoon asks.
Yoongi swallows hard. 'Truth.'
'What about you?'
'What about me?'
'Have you ever been in love?'
It's Yoongi's turn to wear the struck dumb expression. His eyebrows shoot up, face feeling strange under the cake of make up he feels like he's drowning in. Namjoon stares at him, a challenge in his eyes and Yoongi frowns.
'That's cheating.'
'How so?' Namjoon says. 'No rules against it. Pretty sure you just have to do the dares and answer the truths truthfully. Straight forward.'
'It's boring then,' Yoongi says with a huff. He doesn't even know why he's making a deal out of this. It's a simple enough question, the answer not all that incriminating. But he thinks, anything relating to the subject of sexuality, or romance are the danger areas. He can't help but squirm at the mention of them.
'I haven't been,' Yoongi says, 'if you have to know. Haven't even dated a girl before. And I'm not really the type to waste time pining.'
'Never dated a girl you say?' Namjoon says and there's a very thin veil masking the amusement in his voice. 'What about a boy then?'
Yoongi flinches as if Namjoon's thrown a punch his way. He brushes it off quickly, scoffs, but really he doesn't know how seriously Namjoon can take him considering the very definite pause before his response and the shit Namjoon's pulled on his face.
'Very funny, asshole.' He wonders if Namjoon can hear the strain in his voice or hear his heartbeat from the short distance between them. A distance Yoongi wants to increase in the passing seconds. Maybe. His head feels a tad fuzzy, 'What the fuck is this sneaking another question in shit? That's cheating.'
'Okay, okay, fair enough. I'll give you two goes for me then. Happy?'
Yoongi pulls his lips into a thin line. 'Peachy.'
'Then go ahead. I pick truth.'
Yoongi wracks his brain, mind flitting about in search of something. Namjoon watches him closely, still so amused, eyes twinkling as if to replace the lack of stars up in the night sky. Yoongi feels out of his depth suddenly. Isn't quite sure why but it feels like he's stepped into some territory that he might have a challenge navigating through.
'Is it true you had a thing with Mr. Kwon?'
Namjoon lets out a loud laugh. 'He's like. In his fifties.'
'Rumours say you don't care.'
'Rumours are wrong I'm afraid. God the things people come up with... Did you really believe it?'
Yoongi shrugs. 'You're something of an anomaly, Kim Namjoon. I can never be sure what to believe.'
Namjoon hums, looking contemplative. He turns so he's looking at Yoongi face on, rests his head on the edge of the trailer. 'Round two then, pretty boy, come on now.'
The name has electricity zipping up Yoongi's spine but he brushes it off as the chill in the air, clears his throat to keep his voice from shaking.
‘Truth or dare?’ he asks.
‘Dare.’
Namjoon has shuffled close. So damn close that Yoongi can feel his breath on his cheek and shudders like there's insects crawling all over him. He wracks his brains for something, but Namjoon's proximity has rendered him incapable of forming a coherent thought.
'My dares are lame. I can't think of anything.'
'I can think of a dozen things.'
Namjoon's coming onto him. Yoongi was fucking right and Namjoon is coming onto him. Does he do this with everyone he spends time with? All the boys and girls and whatever other people Namjoon is into.
'Are you only into guys?'
The question comes unbidden, Yoongi's voice a squeak of a thing. Namjoon's shoulders lift as he snorts, shuffling back and giving Yoongi room to think.
‘I picked dare.’
‘I told you, I couldn’t think of anything.’
Namjoon takes his time staring, trying to read through the cracks in Yoongi’s annoyance. Yoongi’s sure it can’t be too hard, Namjoon has the eyes of a hawk and those cracks are as wide as chasms.
'No,' he says. 'I've dated a woman, kissed a few girls before and liked it. I don't really have a preference I think. Just met more guys that caught my interest is all.'
Yoongi nods, feeling heat in his cheeks as Namjoon’s eyes flick over to him again. He can’t hold the gaze for too long and is all too aware of the fact that it’s Namjoon’s turn to ask now.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Yoongi suppresses a shudder. He’d been quick to label the game stupid and juvenile, but it’s crossed into dangerous territory now. When Namjoon asks the dreaded question this time, all Yoongi can think about is their proximity, the ease in which Namjoon said he could think of a dozen things for a dare in that damn low voice of his.
Yoongi picks truth, out of fear, because maybe there is something here and Namjoon knows it, but he’s in no way ready for any of it. Can't even put words to what this is.
Namjoon smiles and Yoongi can see the dimples in his cheeks even in the scarce lighting.
‘Tell me a secret you’ve never told anyone.’
Oh no.
Yoongi likes to think he’s blunt and some would say that that leans more towards being a weakness. Yoongi disagrees, he likes being blunt, likes that he’s the kinda person that can speak his mind and people come to trust that’s his truth.
Yoongi is also a liar, something that contrasts a lot with the former characteristic, something he doesn’t like all that much about himself but knows is sometimes necessary. This is one of those scenarios in which he could be a liar. One where he could lie and come up with some bullshit thing about how he shoplifted when he was twelve or snuck soju from the fridge at his mother’s New Year’s party.
He could even tell a half-truth. Pretend that he hadn’t told his brother about the time he fooled around with Sujin and she’d let him feel her up under her shirt. He’d leave out the part where it did nothing for him, tell Namjoon that it had felt good and he'd been super into it and he hadn't told anyone to be respectful to her. Another half-truth. He knows the sorta shit that spreads about girls who let guys do things like that, how she'd be downcast and he'd be applauded for being such a man. Namjoon would probably respect that.
But Yoongi looks up at Namjoon and he feels his heart thump with the tell-tale signs of fear. Has the overwhelming urge to start running in any direction to get as far from Namjoon as he possibly can. So he does the one thing he can think to do and closes up.
‘This game is stupid,’ Yoongi says.
‘Oh shit,’ Namjoon laughs, ‘you must be hiding something big, huh?’
‘I’m not hiding shit, alright? This game is just stupid. I'm over it.'
'You're making this a way bigger deal than it has to be,' Namjoon says with that same carefree attitude that Yoongi is beginning to resent. 'You asked me all sorts of things and I answered. Come on.'
‘Why do you care so much?’
‘Because you’ve got me intrigued. What is it? Surely it’s not that bad.’
Yoongi ducks his head, using the back of his hand to swipe all the makeup from his face. ‘Would you drop it already?’
Namjoon’s grin is lost in the darkness, and Yoongi can’t help but imagine a cruel twist to it when he says. ‘No way.’
'You're being ridiculous.'
'Says the one literally avoiding a very simple question. C'mon what have you got?'
'Nothing.'
'Bullshit. C'mon some kiss and tell thing? Got some dirty pictures hidden under your pillow? Got drunk last New Year's and kissed someone you wished you didn't?'
Yoongi clenches his fists, feels the urge to tighten in on himself or swing at Namjoon or something. 'Namjoon, seriously, drop it.'
'You realise it's me, right? I couldn't give less of a shit about what you get up to and this is too good to let up so you might as well just--'
‘I’m gay, alright?’ Yoongi hisses, and then without warning, he bursts into tears.
It's mortifying and that realisation only makes the whole thing so much worse. Yoongi isn't in the habit of crying. Doesn't want people to see him like this, especially not Namjoon, the dumb fearless asshole that Yoongi's just confessed his biggest secret to. He shuffles into the corner of the tray, curling in on himself as best he can and hiding his face. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this. He doesn't want Namjoon bare witness to his stupid stupid meltdown.
In the silence that follows, Yoongi feels small and vulnerable, sick with the entire situation. He can't help the way he shrinks when Namjoon reaches out to him, the stupid noise he lets out like Namjoon's moved to punch him or something.
‘Please don’t touch me,’ Yoongi says, can’t be sure whether he’d lash out or melt into it and sob all the harder. Isn’t sure which would be worse.
‘You’ve never told anyone before?’ Namjoon asks, gently broaching the silence with all the teasing mirth from before gone from his voice. Yoongi shakes his head, face still buried in his arms so he won’t have to see whatever look is on Namjoon’s face. 'Hey it's okay. You're alright. I get it, it's scary saying it out loud, huh?'
Yoongi nods weakly, shuffling further into his miserable little corner.
'Shit, hyung,' Namjoon winces. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed like that.'
There's a snappy response there, right for the taking, but Yoongi's too messed up to take it. His breathing's evened out a little at least and he no longer feels like he's gonna choke on his own vomit at any given moment.
'You're okay,' Namjoon says. 'I mean it, I really don't care what you are. I mean it's me, I'm not straight either. Not that it's about me but. Shit, Yoongi, I'm really sorry. Please don't cry.'
'I'm not crying,' Yoongi says, in a voice that perfectly indicates how hard he is lying right now. He sniffs, wiping his face in the crook of his elbow before looking up and over at Namjoon's face screwed up in apology.
'I really am sorry, hyung,' he says.
The world has not imploded on itself. No-one is screaming at him. Namjoon isn't looking at him with all the disgust Yoongi's felt towards himself ever since he discovered how to delete his internet history years back. It's not going how he thought it would, and granted this wasn't the way he wanted to come out but on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst imaginable scenario, this is about a four.
Even so, Yoongi feels drained and despite the apologies, he can't help but feel a slight grudging feeling towards Namjoon. Doesn't want to be out here anymore.
'C'mon,' Yoongi says, shuffling out the back of the truck, nudging Namjoon on his way. His feet hit the ground and he walks around, throwing the door open. 'I'll take you home.'
'Yoongi--'
'Namjoon.' Yoongi sighs through grit teeth, fingers clenching around the door. 'I don't wanna talk about this right now.'
Silence hangs between them before Namjoon nods his head, beginning to shuffle out. 'Alright, hyung, alright.'
On the way home, the truck is silent except for the dull murmur of music dribbling out from the car radio.
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dragonbagel · 7 years
Text
Bonded - Part 11
after all this time, here it is! read it on ao3 here.
"Is that a thing? Can he actually do that to Rhys?"
Jack heard Tim sigh on the other side of the line, but he wasn't about to shut up just yet.
"Why do you think I'm some sort of expert on this shit?" Tim asked, exhaustion clear in his voice.
"Because you're the one that figured that stuff out about the bond in the first place!" Jack replied.
"And?" Tim said, unamused.
"And this is kind of a big deal! He got so angry he punched his desk!"
Tim groaned. "I know, Jack; you've told me like five times."
"Sorry for thinking you could help," Jack said, his tone anything but apologetic. "I guess I'll just let this asshole continue to manipulate my boyfriend."
"That's not what I said."
"You didn't have to say it."
Tim let out another exasperated sigh. "Look, I'll do some more research tomorrow. It's late and, unlike you, normal people actually need to sleep."
Jack scoffed. "It's only three a.m."
"Case and point, Jack. Case and point."
Jack found his personal ECHOcomm ringing surprisingly early the next day, and raised his eyebrows when he saw Tim's name on the caller ID.
"Hey kiddo, what's up?"
"Me, unfortunately," Tim grumbled. Jack could hear the sound of coffee brewing in the background, and just the thought of it made his stomach growl.
He still had yet to drag himself out of bed, but since it was the weekend, it wasn't like anyone could exactly blame him. He rolled over to ask Rhys if he wanted to be a dear and stick some Eggos in the toaster before he remembered: Rhys wasn't there. He'd been staying over increasingly less often, and the last time he'd seen him had been a few days previous when he'd given the omega his refilled prescription of suppressors. He'd never admit it, but the loneliness was gnawing at Jack. It wasn't as if the alpha lacked friends (Nisha would smack him if he said otherwise), but they weren't exactly up to the same par as Rhys. His entourage would much prefer to punch rather than cuddle with him, and while their gun-smoke-tinged scents were comforting in a familial way, they didn't bring a warm, soothing ease to him in the same way Rhys' did.
Plus, they'd each be quick to shoot him if he asked for their help with the morning wood he was now unfortunately forced to deal with on his own.
"So, Timmy," Jack said, yawning as he shifted in his uncomfortably tight boxers. "What'd you find?"
"Not much," Tim admitted. "They don't exactly go around broadcasting this shit on the ECHOnet."
Jack stretched the hand not holding the phone up over his head, sighing as he felt his ribs pop in an oh-so-satisfying way. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Well," Tim began, causing Jack to raise his eyebrows in amusement. "Did you know that Rhys isn't the first person this has happened to?"
Jack pursed his lips, not wanting to gratify Tim with an answer. Logically, what the beta was saying made perfect sense; despite (as well as because of) the rarity of omegas, they each had a pretty price on their head. And bonding one-- well, that was the rumored key to the kingdom. It made Jack feel like absolute shit to think about, what with him possessing this same biological ability to manipulate and take advantage of someone in a way completely out of their control. He cringed as he thought of how that must make Rhys feel, what anguish it must impart to be so heavily disadvantaged solely by one's genetics.
"I found what looks like a memoir, written by a lady on Elpis. It took a lot of digging, but, well, I think it might be what you're looking for."
Jack sat up at that, sliding his legs over the side of the bed. "What does it say?"
"I didn't have time to read all of it, and some pages were missing, and it was handwritten in this awful cursive that was har--"
"Tim!" Jack interrupted, knowing from experience that once his body double started rambling, he wouldn't shut up on his own.
"Right, right, sorry boss," Tim said, sounding embarrassed. "She said even though she ran from the asshole after he, y'know, did it to her, she could still...feel things. 'Alien emotions,' I think she called it."
"Alien emotions," Jack mused. "And that's what? The name of her top 40 chart topper?"
Tim snorted. "I dunno. Why don't you ask the Katy Perry on your iPod?"
"I told you not to talk about that!" Jack snapped, flushing.
Tim couldn't help but laugh, and he could practically feel Jack's glare through the phone. "You're the one that started a body double program."
Jack opened and closed his mouth a few times, no words coming out. It was way too damn early for this. "I also started my own hit squad, so you'd better watch your mouth."
Tim just chuckled again. "I won't tell Rhys, don't worry."
"You'd better not," Jack muttered, knowing that Rhys would never let him hear the end of it after he'd spent the past year teasing the omega listening to Britney Spears (because seriously, she was the definition of obsolete). "But, anyways, back to these, uh, 'alien emotions.'."
"Right," Tim said, falling back into a serious demeanor. "Well, basically, she sorta...felt things."
"'Things' meaning...?" Jack prompted.
"She said she'd get these random feelings that weren't hers. Through the- through the bond."
"What type of random feelings?" Jack asked, his heart rate starting to pick up.
"It says-- fuck, why does it have to be in cursive-- sometimes she'd be scared-- yeah, I think that says scared-- for no reason. There's one part where she's just sitting on the couch and just gets hit with this terror."
Jack rolled his eyes; great, this was another dead end. "So she had a panic attack?"
"See, that's the thing," Tim continued. "She had no history of anxiety, as far as I can tell."
"I did a bit of background research," Tim added, sensing that Jack was probably confused.
"Hmm," Jack said, not wanting to trust what Tim was saying just yet.
"The feeling just came out of nowhere, and it-- her bonding site, it--"
"Spit it out," Jack said through gritted teeth.
"She said it felt like it was on fire. That's how she knew it had to be him."
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. This was the exact opposite of what he'd wanted to hear. Yes, he'd been the one to ask Tim to do this information scavenging for him in the first place; but what he'd really wanted was for Tim to tell him that it was nothing. To tell him that Rhys' anger was just his anger, not some douchewad alpha projecting his emotions onto him.
Jack sighed, dragging his hand across his face in anxiety-turned-anger. "Anything else?"
"Not much. She did say that the bond went away after a while, so at least we know we were right about that part."
Jack huffed; it was a pretty small victory in the grand scheme of things.
"I can send you a copy of it, if you want," Tim offered.
It was common knowledge that Jack wasn't exactly a fan of the whole "reading" thing, but he begrudgingly agreed because if it something involved Rhys, he'd damn well go to the ends of the galaxy and back. No, scratch that-- the alpha wasn't that disgustingly sappy. He'd go through a stalker nest for Rhys (because that was a badass thing to do), but anything more was just... way too endearing.
He groaned. Fuck his stupid hormones and fuck his ridiculous infatuation and, most importantly, fuck this other alpha that was screwing up his entire life.
And Rhys' life too, a small part of his brain supplied.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jack said, cradling the phone against his ear as he slipped on a pair of jeans. "I've gotta go, Timmy, but thanks for the help."
He ended the call before Tim could utter a "no problem" or some other nice crap that Jack really didn't have time for. He still wasn't sure how someone who was supposedly his doppelganger could be so kind-hearted; it kinda defeated the whole "having an army of badasses" purpose. Rolling his eyes, he tossed his ECHOcomm onto the bedspread and headed into his walk-in closet to find something semi-presentable to wear.
Semi-presentable, in this case, meant a Hyperion yellow polo shirt, which he rolled up at the sleeves to expose the tattoo encircling his tan wrist. He frowned as he glanced down at it; the design had started to blur a bit, meaning he’d have to get it touched up again soon. And while Jack was by no means a crybaby, that needle managed to wring out a pain far worse than a gunshot wound. He still wasn’t quite sure how Rhys was able to tolerate all the hours of discomfort necessary for such detailed ink, especially on his neck and around his nipple. Jack knew firsthand how sensitive the omega was there.
Rhys. Jack couldn’t stop his gaze from flickering to the corner of the closet, from reimagining Rhys cowered so uncharacteristically in the corner.
The alpha shook his head, opting to check his outfit over in the bathroom while putting on his mask rather than dealing with the unpleasantries of the memory-filled space he was currently in. But that’s why he was doing this in the first place, he had to remind himself. That’s why he was dragging his ass out of bed on a weekend to buy his boyfriend breakfast in a nauseatingly mushy display of affection.
Rhys needed to know that Jack cared. And even if Rhys told Jack almost religiously that he was fine and that he felt better on his own--on his own without Jack -- well, Jack had never been a fan of following the rules, and he wasn’t about to start now.
Jack cursed as he felt his phone starting to vibrate in his pocket. His hands were full of a box of fancy frosted donuts, on top of which was balanced a coffee carrier. The barista had given him a look when he’d ordered five pumps of caramel in one of the drinks, and he unashamedly snapped at her that the CEO of the entire fucking space station could order whatever he damn well pleased in his coffee. Besides, he happened to know a pretty little thing who, despite his proclaimed love of black coffee, loved the sweet taste on Jack’s lips.
The barista’s violated expression had Jack cackling the entire way to Rhys’ apartment.
The alpha grunted as he attempted to shift his pile of goodies onto his left palm, digging in his pocket for his phone with his right.
“Hello?” he asked, answering the phone without even bothering to check the caller ID. He didn’t have enough caffeine in his bloodstream yet to think about the fact that ignoring annoying people was probably more effective than trying to airlock them all after the fact.
Luckily, he wasn’t met with the cringe worthy voice of any of his subordinates pestering him about a deadline or pay raise or other useless, irrelevant complaint.
“Hey Jack! I, uh, didn’t think you’d be up so early.”
Jack chuckled. “Hiya, cupcake!”
He could hear some commotion going on in the background, and a moment later Rhys spoke again. “Did you want to-- ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this…”
The alpha resumed his trek to Rhys’ apartment, which was just at the end of the hallway.
Rhys’ next words came out in a strung-together rush. “Did you want to go to brunch? With, um, with me?”
Jack could feel the corners of his lips curling up in a smile, something about the way Rhys always managed to be awkward and nervous around him after all this time coming off as quite charming.
“‘Course I do, Rhysie.”
Donuts and coffee in bed could count as brunch, Jack supposed as he neared Rhys’ shared apartment.
“Alright, I’ll send you the name of the place. See you in an hour?”
“Kitten, I think I’ll be seeing you a bit sooner than you thiiiiiii--”
Jack’s line had been going so smoothly. At least, he’d thought it had been. His balancing act, however, hadn’t been so fortunate. Rhys’ neighbors had left their newspaper (asshole freakin old people) outside their door, perfectly placed so that Jack’s above-your-pay-grade shoe had slipped on it. Meaning Jack’s suave line had been cut short. Meaning that the alpha had fallen on his ass in a loud, impromptu bang.
Meaning that when Rhys poked his head out the door to investigate the commotion, he found Jack on the floor covered in the wreckage of what had once been breakfast.
“Jack?” he asked, covering his mouth with his hand in what Jack knew was an attempt to hide a grin.
“Hey Rhysie,” Jack sighed, shooting him a less-than-glamorous smile. “Wanna help me up here?”
“Depends,” Rhys said, stepping out into the hallway towards Jack. “Were these donuts for me?”
The alpha laughed, shifting the dented box of pastries off of him and holding up a hand to Rhys. The omega rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of “drama queen” as he interlaced his fingers with Jack’s.
“Why are you so heavy?” he grunted, digging his heels into the ground as he raised Jack up to stand, the alpha resting his weight on him and pulling him into a hug. “And quit it, your stupid coffee is getting me all sticky.”
“Never heard you complain about me getting you sticky before, pumpkin,” Jack said with a smirk, pecking a kiss onto Rhys’ forehead as the omega blushed.
“Ew, seriously?”
Rhys flushed even deeper at the sound of Vaughn’s voice and the knowledge that Vaughn had most definitely understood what Jack had just insinuated.
“You didn’t tell me Short Stuff was here,” Jack whispered into Rhys’ ear, a bit upset they wouldn’t be having alone time.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “He lives here too. And besides, he’s the reason I invited you, it’s supposed to be a sort of--”
“Double date!”
Rhys and Jack both looked to see Vaughn’s girlfriend, Leia, peering at them with a grin over the beta’s shoulder. She waved when she caught their gaze, beckoning for them to come inside as she retreated back into the apartment.
“Shall we?” Jack asked, scooping up the remnants of what would’ve been a freakin’ awesome surprise breakfast and following Rhys inside.
Once Jack had recovered from his tripping incident (that nobody should ever talk about if they wanted to keep their limbs attached their body), he noticed that Rhys looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. Rhys’ cybernetic arm wasn’t attached, leaving the right sleeve of his faded t-shirt to hang limply at the shoulder. His normally gelled-back hair was still in a sleep-rumpled disarray, and Jack felt a bit of heat rush to his face as he noticed the way Rhys’ red pajama pants managed to cling to his body in all the right places despite their obvious wear-and-tear.
“Ooh, are these for us?” Leia asked, excitedly pointing to the food Jack was holding.
“Well, they were for Rhys, but I guess if you ask real nice…”
“No way!” Rhys interjected, snagging the dented yet still intact box of donuts. “These are mine!”
Leia snorted. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”
“I am,” Rhys said, popping the lid off the box. “A gentleman whose boyfriend brought me donuts.”
Leia made to lunge for the goodies, but Vaughn wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her back. “Let Rhys have them, since he already seems so deadset on making us late.”
“Not cool, bro!” Rhys threw Vaughn an accusatory look. “And fine, you can have some-- just don’t touch the ones with the chocolate sprinkles.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Leia said, rolling her eyes. “Now go take a shower, you stink.”
“You stink,” Rhys shot back lamely, taking another bite of his donut before handing the box off to her and heading towards the bathroom.
Jack looked down at his clothes, which were covered in coffee stains. Now that he thought about it, a shower did sound nice-- especially a shower with Rhys…
“No way.”
Jack looked up as Vaughn was staring him down (or, rather, staring him up, what with the height difference). “What?”
“You’re not going in there,” he said firmly. “I will not have you two banging in my shower.”
Jack struggled to choke back a laugh. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been edging towards the bathroom. “Come on, Muscles. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Vaughn gagged, sending both Jack into a fit of laughter. “You’re disgusting.”
Even Leia was giggling at this point, as much as she was trying to hide it from her affronted-looking boyfriend. She was attempting to hone all her focus into putting on a pair of earrings (as both she and Vaughn were already dressed and ready to go), but her hair kept getting in her way. “Help?” she asked, looking up innocently.
“No way,” Vaughn said. “You sided with him .” He talked about Jack as if he were a disease he didn’t want too close to him.
Jack took the opportunity to piss off Vaughn even further, walking over to Leia and lightly pulling back her dreadlocks so that she could actually get to her ears. The tips of her hair were dyed blue, the color matching the vibrant hue of her eyes, which stood in stark pale contrast to her dark skin.
“Thanks,” she said, sticking her tongue out at Vaughn as she affixed the jewelry.
Jack smirked, especially as Leia pulled a ponytail off her wrist to tie her hair into a low bun.
“Seriously?” Vaughn groaned, hating the sly look Jack and Leia gave each other.
“Sorry babe,” Leia said, standing and kissing Vaughn lightly on the lips. “But it’s just way too fun to annoy you.”
“And easy!” Jack added, his expression smug.
“Alright, alright.” Vaughn sounded resigned as he raised his hands in surrender. Why did Rhys and his stupidly long hair-styling routine have to abandon him with these two? “Can someone go tell Rhys to hurry his ass up?”
It took Jack a moment to realize that Vaughn was referring to him. “Sure thing, cupcake,” he said with a salute, not even minding the super transparent excuse Vaughn had thrust onto him to get the alpha to leave.
The door to the bathroom was cracked open, and Jack quietly entered without knocking. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen every inch of the omega before, after all. He expected to see Rhys combing his hair or drowning himself in cologne.
He didn’t expect to see Rhys standing shirtless in the center of the room, unmoving, while staring at his reflection in the mirror.
“Uh, Rhysie?” he asked, snapping his fingers.
Rhys jolted as if he’d been shocked, turning to face Jack as color flooded his cheeks. “Oh, uh, sorry Jack. Kinda zoned out there.”
“No kidding,” Jack said, shaking his head in bemusement before stepping forward and kissing Rhys.
“Ew, get off! I just got clean!”
Jack chuckled. “Sorry, cupcake. I didn’t exactly come with a change of clothes.”
“I can give you some of mine to wear,” Rhys offered, scratching at the back of his neck. His nervous tic was becoming even more pronounced, and in all honesty it was worrisome to Jack.
“I don’t know if you noticed, kitten, but I ain’t exactly a beanstalk like you.” Ignoring anxiety with humor, Jack thought to himself. Classic.
“Rude!” Rhys said in fake, overexaggerated offense. “I guess you’ll just have to wear Vaughn’s clothes instead.”
Jack groaned at the prospect, but at least Vaughn had a similarly bulky build. “Fine,” he said, holding out his hand to Rhys. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“You mean the clothes or the brunch?” Rhys asked, smiling.
Jack felt a grin stretch across his face as well. “Both, pumpkin. Definitely both.”
6 notes · View notes
sukunussy · 5 years
Text
i've been thinking a lot about actually using this for some personal writings because i feel like writing it all down might be helpful. i don't know if i believe in journalling or blogging or whatever but i'm sick of just venting to my friends about the same shit over and over and over again so i guess i might as well give it a shot. 
my sleep schedule has been wrecked for weeks. i thought i'd fixed it a few nights ago, but then i stayed up and... yeah, just a mess. so i for some reason only slept 5:30am-8:30am yesterday and then stayed up because i didn't feel tired and kinda didn't wanna sleep through the day; i thought i could power through. so, i stay up, rot in my room for a while because i couldn't make myself go to the kitchen to make myself anything to eat. i just. my stomach was growling, i was hungry, i hadn't had coffee in two days so i was feeling it — but somehow i still just stayed at my desk or in bed til my mom took pity on me and brought me a sandwich. (for context, i'd been telling my fam this whole summer that i needed help eating regular meals because my school crisis mode just fucks with my appetite and i always sleep through breakfast. they haven't really been great about it.)
i got tired at like 6pm yesterday and was lying in bed for a long while just idly scrolling trying to actually sleep. i don't remember when i actually fell asleep, but i woke up at some point to put my computer away and then woke up for good at like 1am, i think? i wanted to go back to sleep initially but then woke up too much to do it so i've been up. decided to start watching good omens, finally, which is the best thing i've taken out of the past two days.
so, i haven't really slept, and i'm awake at like 8:30am when my mom comes into my room. my mom uses my bathroom exclusively even though my room is like a 3 minute walk from her room (which is literally right next to a bathroom) because she's grossed out by the other bathroom for no good reason. there's literally no reason. anyway, she gives me a lot of shit for trying to ask her to knock or wait for me to say "come in" when she comes back to my room, but it's a matter of space and boundaries. she's been overinvolved in my life and invaded my personal space a lot because i was an only child in an abusive household where my dad made it hard for my mom to have friends and alienated her from her family.
anyway, my mom just strolls in looking like she absolutely just woke up and goes into my bathroom. mutters a "good morning" because she's surprised she saw me up and 'attem so early. i was watching good omens, y'know, chill as hell. and i've had this talk with my mom about using the bathroom before — she can use it but don't like sneakily come back to use the bathroom and then expect that i want to sit and chat for an hour. it's my room, it's my time, we don't get along very well and i honestly come back her to just... vegetate. i don't wanna be dealing with her constantly.
naturally, my mom gets out of the bathroom and comes over to me. this entire time i've had the episode paused because i get so on edge when she's in my room like i literally can't focus on anything else until she's gone. she comes over, and i'm like on my side in bed, and starts petting me even though i'm trying not to make eye contact because i want her to leave. i just want her gone, i wanna watch the show and not deal with it. she didn't even knock to come in, knowing that i've been getting up weirdly early the past few days. and she starts trying to ask me what's wrong, but i really don't want to talk about it and i tell her as much.
finally, i tell her i'm mad about her just coming in here and then proceeding to linger exactly how i told her i didn't want her to. and coming over to do the whole physical affection thing when everything in my face and body language was clear about me not wanting any of it. it's been a really long time since i've felt comforted by my mom's physical affection. there are moments when i want a hug but as a rule it makes me feel more uncomfortable than anything. that's a more complicated issue tat i could go on about but back to the narrative. she settles on just saying "there's something wrong with you," and then leaves.
but we're not done!
she comes back this time to try to pry out why i'm mad and it just devolves into our typical fights. i'm mad this summer because i got a grant to plan a research trip abroad and my whole family basically fought me every step of the way because i wanted to go to cuba. i'm cuban, i wanted to go to see if i could do a cuban opera for my senior thesis; of course, cuba is a communist country with an unstable regime/economy, so i'm aware that my going would come with some risks. i knew this!! it wasn't going to be some silly vacation for the 'gram!!! but my family being so like aggressively against the trip plus depression plus summer slump meant the trip didn't happen. i missed my flight, ghosted my airbnb, lost $400, didn't make any plans. this happened at the beginning of june. of course i'm still upset by this. i still don't even really wanna talk about it.
i know i could've still gone if i really set my mind to it. i could've planned. i was just wiped out from the semester and i needed the support from somewhere, anywhere, and i didn't have it. it would've been my first time abroad; it's the first thing i've applied for and gotten while i've been in college, the grant i got. i built it up in my head and for there not even to be the slightest acknowledgement that this is a cool thing that you're doing to fend for yourself and hone your craft and reconnect to a heritage that you're simultaneously entrenched and removed in — no, nothing. just my mom saying "when you leave, i'll say goodbye to you like it's the last time i'll ever see you," and my grandma ganging up on me because a friend of a friend was on her whatsapp telling her that cuba has low supplies of toilet paper.
so i'm feeling really fucked up about this. at least i'm still writing this summer. writing is an outlet i always turn to but never know how to manage in a healthy or productive way. (like how i'm writing this having been up all night instead of getting breakfast.)
we have this stupid fight where my mom just doesn't listen to me — i mention a smaller, addressable issue and she zooms out to her failed marriage, her health problems — oh, wait. i forgot the best part. when she walked in to ask me why i was mad, she actually guilt tripped me at first. "your grandmother is getting ready to go to the doctor's office. have you heard about her test results? [medical stuff] she could die any day now of heart failure. you should go say hi before she leaves." like deadass!!!! really!!! this is how she swings in while i am pointedly not speaking to her.
that was what set me off. i called her out for the guilt tripping because, if she's going to stand there and force a conversation, that's what i had to say. so, i cry, she cries and blubbers — at this point i'm so numb to her reactions that it really just frustrates me when she gets like that, sue me. my patience is just... gone with her. all the patience i have goes toward trying not to raise my voice because then at least i know i have the high ground when she starts raising her voice at me. which. i hate! i really don't do well with yelling! who does?
this fight happens. she leaves sobbing that she's a fuck up, because every fight ends up being about her even when it starts about me. even when i was just trying to get her to understand that her forcing herself into my life and into my space isn't something i'll ever respond well to.
leaves me alone for about... 20 minutes. i start writing this post. since i've started, i shit you not, she's come in three times. first, to plead at my door to let her use my bathroom (she left her hairdryer in there and wants to wash up). after ignoring her for a minute as she gets louder, i just decide to let her in because i don't want her to unlock my door with her key or to stand there crying as if i can't hear her. then she tries to talk to me multiple times while she's in my bathroom doing... whatever she was doing. mind you, i was literally just typing away and not paying attention.
she's called me twice and informed me that she also sent a text message saying she'll help me (now) plan a trip to cuba because she doesn't want me to blame her for this forever. she also just came by to tell me, again, about a random doctor's appointment.
at this point, home just feels unsafe to me. i don't have a quiet place for myself. i've lived alone at school for two years and it's like i'm living in a glass box here where my mom could walk in and watch me at any second. i don't want to talk to her. i don't want to talk to my grandparents, who are dealing with health issues and other family issues and consider me locking myself up in my room as some kind of phase i guess? or a tantrum? no matter the different ways in which i cry for help. i don't want to talk to my dad, because he plays nice for five minutes and then reminds me that he's a fucking raging conservative bigot and that he'll never actually accept me for who i am. i don't even know what home is anymore. it's definitely not school, but it's not here, either.
i just needed to get this out. i'm gonna try to eat and get out of bed and go to a cafe in a bit. gotta shower before i leave the house, it's been a few days. maybe i'll update later.
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the-kipsabian · 5 years
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maaaads can i ask for all of them w asagao!dan? (minus champagne cause y'know, he'd technically be a teenager here)
frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?i really wanna say that hes more of a summer boi tbh? he wouldnt mind winter, its really just the facts that putting on so much clothing can be annoying plus with the crazy hair during winter when it gets all static and stuff? yeah thats a pain (plus during summer he can. wear ponytails so!!)
peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?he tries to be as honest as possible. sometimes theres little white lies to protect friends feelings if they are required in the moment, but usually hes very honest and straightforward with things tho
lapis lazuli: does your muse prefer the idea of exploring the depths of the oceans, or the boundless expanses of space more?oh, space for sure. first of all, dan thinks space is amazing. second, hes afraid of big bodies of water and sharks so. yyyyeah
reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?hes not. super willing tbh? he will if he absolutely has to, but more often than not hes happy to just be a follower in most cases. unless its. something hes very passionate about, like music or such, then hes more likely to take charge of things
burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?i mean. he has his issues tbh? but hes not like. completely broken. he is an emotional man i can give him that, but in a really good way. mentally, well.. he struggles with some things more than most people, but then again, dont we all
tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?i. really wanna say unicorns to this tbh lol
malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?oh im sure. some examples that come to mind would be saying something to a friend that he regretted or having like a really bad breakup or something similar. nothing too drastic tbh, but something along those lines
olive: is your muse prone to feeling envious of others? if yes, what is it that they typically feel envious over?nah. like, not really at all. he does his best and knows his limits and doesnt push them too hard unless its. something he really cares about, so if anything its usually others being envious about dan and his work ethics tho?
vermillion: is your muse courageous, or would they consider themselves to be more of a coward?well. technically not a coward, but in fight or flight situations he would definitely choose to flight as he tries to avoid confrontation as much as possible? if this is not like. physical confrontation related, i’d say he can be very courageous tho? like stepping on a stage to perform or sing in front of a crow and whatnot. that he can do without a doubt and not be afraid of it tho
bougainvillaea: would your muse consider themselves as blunt, or do they beat around the bush instead?it depends? who hes talking to and what about mostly? he can be very blunt, mostly for comedic purposes tho, so i guess he beats around the bush more often? i mean dan says things fairly straight, but not in a blunt way? does that make sense??
currant: what's something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?mmmmmm is there. really such a thing?? like apart from obvious stuff like inconsiderate assholes and just generally unpleasant people and stuff? mmm probably like. most fast foods? i mean also kinda not as he doesnt care if you consume that stuff, just really dont force him to eat it and hes good? idk dan likes. pretty much everything as long as its not harmful to anyone so like. yeah
crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?oh, VERY. extremely passionate and he loves to share those things with his friends cause he wants everyone to be able to experience them and yeah
raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?sssskittleeeees. he consumes them like. ALL the damn time. which is probably bad but also he doesnt care tbh
baby blossoms: does your muse have a favorite scent? what is it, and why?..my instant first thought was ‘what do unicorns smell like’ so mmm. something slightly sweet maybe? i high key wanna say vanilla but idk?
mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?welp for starters im sure dan has like. songs he associates with each of his friends and such. as for objects, he absolutely treasures any gifts he ever gets, and then theres. the game grumps club jackets woo ~
aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?i wanna saaaaay he prefers to actually be awake during the day more? he can be a very sleepy boi and has more energy during the night to take care of things so yeah. plus hes. relatively loud so its much easier for him during the day time when people arent constantly yelling at him to shut up when they want to sleep tbh
acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?oh, a LOT. dan isnt a hating type at all, like you have to pretty ruthlessly fuck up something really major for him to hate on you, and even then hes. pretty fast to try to forgive and forget and patch things up honestly? hes not one to hold grudges at all
cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?i mean. personally not much as he doesnt really have those kind of things? and even if he does, dan is pretty open to talk about his life and stuff thats happened, even if for nothing else than to share things with others to show that hey shit can be fucked up but you’ll survive and come through as a stronger person, you know? as for others, yeah if you tell him you dont like certain topics around them hes completely down to not bring them up for you and thats really that - hes not gonna question you or tease you about it or anything like that. dan just gonna take it as it is and be cool with it
honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?he can get very physically affectionate tbh. a lot of hugs and cuddles and hand holding. hes very much into sneaking little kisses on your face if your close enough. if youre not down with pda or are a friend or family, then its using words to tell you how much he likes and cares for you, and getting gifts to people of things he knows you like and stuff that makes him think about you when hes picking it out
chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?bbbbllluuuuue. like, a soft shade of blue. not like baby blue, but. blue. cause its his favorite color and i mean maybe this is a personal thing, but to me blue has never been a “cold” color, and knowing what kind of a soft warm personality dan is. yeah
anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don't deserve it?he knows his self-worth, thats for sure. tho hes. really bad at taking care of himself if he has a lot to work on, especially when it comes to thinks hes passionate about? like if dan is in a creating mode its really hard to get him to sit down and chill out even for a hot moment, but outside of that he takes pretty good care of himself - doesnt put himself in situations he doesnt like and that get him stressed, actually eats pretty well and gets a decent amount of sleep too, spends time with friends and whatnot
new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?mostly he would tell his younger self that things are going to be alright and get better, no matter how things seems to look like now (see ‘danny dont you know’ for example lol)
moss: how easily does your muse adapt to any new situations they're thrust into?hes pretty fast to adapt to new things, honestly. he gets along with people really well as long as they arent straight up assholes, and he loves to get to know new people and places all the time so being thrown into new stuff isnt scary or uncomfortable to him pretty much at all
silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?oh he doesnt really care one way or another tbh. hes a tall boi with a crazy hair, its already hard enough for him to find fitting clothes and keep his hair in some sort of order, he doesnt need to stress about anything else lol. as for others, he doesnt really care either as long as. you dont smell awful tbh. hygiene is the one thing that he cares about honestly
sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?hes an optimist for sure. sure like everyone he has low days, but even then hes trying to keep the outlook on life as positive as possible, no matter what
atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?..i just high key wanna say to visit his grandma cause we all know how much he loves her mmmm. probably some other places too, but as far as im concerned, dan is just mostly content being anywhere he is or going or anything as long as he has people he loves around him tho
cool grey: if your muse could ensure one thing for certain in their future to come, what would it be?a stable music career tbh. and/or having people he cares about and who care for him around him
black: does your muse have a 'bucket list?' list some things your muse wants to accomplish before they die.im sure he does, dan is the kind of a person who would like to have some kind of goals in mind for life mmm. well, again with the music career tbh cause thats. kinda obvious. he probably would want to visit as many places in the world too. have like so many dogs. know that he has made someone happy in their day to day life, no matter in what way or who they are. stuff like that ~
colorful headcanons ~
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