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scriptseekstories · 3 months ago

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Queen Bee’s Hive

Chapter 5- Your Body, Your Choice

A/N: Guess who’s back gang? I legit couldn’t even think of what else to write on this chapter because my brain couldn’t grasp the concept of writing what I need to write lmao

The Wayne Family was not only a powerful family, not only the richest families in Gotham, but the most connected families within themselves.

They pride on despite everything they have gone through, they stuck with one another thick and thin. They cherished each other and never once made one stand out for being different.

Yet, one stood out. Or rather, never did.

Bruce wasn’t young to know what he did was wrong, but he wasn’t wise enough to fully know that his playboy persona should only be a mask and never enact on it.

(M/N) Raine was amongst the faces of one night stands, though Bruce had to admit she was as smart as she was beautiful. She wasn’t a face that grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, she was one who grew up working hard to escape the low points she started off with.

Her brains got her scholarships, her strength got her rising with the elites, and her charm got her in bed with Bruce. It was Bruce who pursuit her first, it was Bruce was was smitten by her work, it was Bruce who gave in and it was Bruce who gave her what she wanted.

The fundings to her research was a way for Bruce to keep in touch with her, even if it was strictly professional. Little by little, (M/N) gave him a chance, and one fateful night they shared his bed.

But just like any other fling, Bruce waved her off while handing her extra money for herself. It was foolish to have her believe he actually cared, yet it didn’t stop a single tear from.

However, something stabbed Bruce in his heart. The pang of shame wearing him down the days passed when he never returned her calls. It got worse when a crime boss he had been searching for attacked the lab she and her team was in, burning every single part of the lab to ashes.

He couldn’t bear to even see her, not after failing to save years of research, all gone due to his aching heart. He was a coward, despite being Gotham’s Dark Knight, Bruce Wayne was a coward at heart.

The shame and guilt tipped over when Alfred informed him of taking custody to her child. His child. She was pregnant and she didn’t tell him. The hypocrisy didn’t fool him, he knew he was the one who cut contact first, so he didn’t know why he felt betrayed that he wasn’t informed of her pregnancy.

She never asked for child support, didn’t use her baby as blackmail. She simply moved on and took care of her child until she died.

Maybe that’s why he ignored you. Maybe that’s why he avoided looking at you. You were so much like your mother and him combined. Her eyes, the intense stare he always gives, her hair, his nose, everything reminded him what he foolishly lost.

He focused his attention to Jason, trying to fill the void of his own fears towards you. Dick was grown enough to leave for Blüdhaven, so he tried to regain his focus back on training Jason for the next Robin.

But he always stilted his progress when he saw you and Jason reading stories to one another, a big smile on your face when you actually had someone who loved you.

Regret washed over again, and out of his own guilt and insecurities, he pulled Jason away from you. And when he died, you were completely out of his view. Child after child he took in, he forgot about you.

You never complained, you never cried for him, how could he have known you were hurting? But he was immediately scolded by Alfred when he dared have the audacity to blame you. A child.

How dare he calls himself a good father when he had neglected his firstborn? His baby.

The time where Jason punched you? The time when Damien sliced a cut on your forehead, the many times of him tormenting you? He turned a blind eye. He didn’t want to tilt the routine of his life, even if it meant you had to suffer.

Truly, Bruce Wayne was a coward.

It all fell apart when that very day, he wanted to show Steph the importance of gardening, but things got a little rowdy, and Tim tossed a stick at a beehive.

That was when Alfred began to shout at them, that was when you arrived, that was when you finally let out everything that held in your heart. You told Bruce that you hated him, that you never wanted him as a father.

He got angry, appalled that you called him a bad father. How could you ever accuse him of not… not loving you? You were right. Deep down, the Bruce that was young and still in mourning of the life he might’ve had with your mother punched his heart. It was true, that he wasn’t the best dad, but he tried so hard to be one.

Just not to you.

The kids went silent. Dick looking very uncomfortable, yet quietly suggested to go and apologize. “Things just got blown out of proportion, lets show them it wasn’t a big deal,” He smiled, yet it wavered the moment he spoke. It didn’t feel right saying this was all wasn’t a big deal, it shouldn’t. Yet your eyes said it all. You hated everyone in the manor, and he couldn’t stand it.

Bruce was the first to walk inside, ever so slightly stumbling, trying to get upstairs. He’ll apologize to you, take you out to your favorite place… what was it again? Never mind, he’ll buy you all the things you want at the mall, and you’ll forgive him.

“Alfred, I-,” Bruce stopped when he saw Alfred running down the stairs. He looked frantic, terrified. He clutched the top of the stairway as if he had seen a ghost, face pale and knuckles white with how much he was gripping the railing.

“They’re gone!” Alfred exclaimed, “Master (Name)! They had run off! I do not know where they could be!” Bruce’s heart stop when he told him that. You ran off? Why?

He couldn’t even have his mind think properly at the fact he doesn’t know where your room was, he just stumbled backwards before running down the stairs, running past his kids.

“Signaling all Bats, we have a search to enact,” He called into his bat-watch, informing Barbara, Cass, and Jason who were currently working the night shift. The remaining three responded through the watch while the others began to run to the entrance to the cave.

“Missing child? Runaway teen? Kidnapped for ransom?” Barbara pondered while typing away at the computer. Bruce shook his head, as if she could even see him doing that.

“(Name), they ran off,” The moment he said that, Jason immediately scoffed and rambled about how you were probably throwing a tantrum. “Let the brat go, not like they-,” Alfred couldn’t prevent his anger from rising, grabbing Bruce’s wrist and pulled his watch to his face.

“Master Jason, this isn’t up for debate! Your sibling is somewhere within the dangerous parts of Gotham filled with many threats, and so help me if you do not march yourself into the Bat Cave!” He practically shouted in such rage, something they had never heard before.

Getting into the Bat Cave, Barbara was already typing onto the Bat Computer, a furrowed expression on her face as she wasn’t sure on where your location was. She never had bothered to keep up on you, now it was but her on the neck. Where were you?

Alfred, rubbing his face with his hand, paced around the Bat Cave before his eyes stopped at something, or someone. Duke was standing at the side, eyes filled with terror, hands fiddling with each other and breathing ragged.

Those were signs that told him that Duke knew something. Of course, why didn’t he asked him sooner? He has spent his day with you to who knows where? So he grabbed the boy by the shoulders, not caring that it made him yelp, and stared him straight into his eyes.

“Master Duke, if you have any knowledge on where they might be, please tell us!” Alfred was desperate, that he knew. He wasn’t going to let another one of his family members get abandoned, kidnapped, or killed, not Julia, not Jason, not Tim, not you.

Alfred’s shouts caused the others to snap their attention to the poor boy. Duke opened his mouth, yet nothing stammers managed to barely get choked out with how much his heart was racing.

“I-I,” Duke clenched his fists, knowing what he was about to do would break your trust in so many ways, but he just wanted you to be safe. He needed to keep you safe.

“Yes, I know exactly where they ran off to,”

꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁

CRASH

They located the warehouse that Duke said you would be at, which made their hearts race even more. It was reading between the somewhat good part of Gotham and the absolute worst parts. Why would you ever think this place was safer than the manor.

They crashed through the sunroof, slamming into the pavement. What they saw, was nothing they could ever imagine. Bruce’s eyes widened in seeing this… disgusting bee beast. Arms protruding out of its back, wings crooked and limp. It glowed, which showed the many eyes on its face.

It drooling blood, snarling a guttural noise while holding-

Oh god…

“GET AWAY FROM THEM!!” Damien was the first to speak, or rather scream. He lunged at the beats before anyone could stop him. The creature screeched while jumping away, letting out more choked feral noises. Bruce made his move and ordered for the others to surround this thing so they would kill it.

While the others cornered the bee-like thing, Bruce was slowly staggering towards your body. His ears rang and his vision blurred when he saw your gaping ripped back, blood do red it was black.

He shielded you when the beast managed to flee over their heads, grabbing beehive that had fallen onto the floor, before making eye contact with Bruce and flying.

“DON’T!!” He heard Duke shout, before Damien was tackled onto the floor with Duke pinning his wrists down, a terrifying look on his face.

“That’s all they ever had!! Don’t you DARE kill what’s left of them!!” He spat out, before quickly realizing what he didn’t and spluttered an apology, getting off of Damien.

“What the hell, Thomas?! We had it!!” Tim shoved Duke’s shoulder, but before anyone began to fight or argue, Dick stopped them, looking over at Bruce looking down at you.

“No… Not again…” The memories of Jason’s corpse, the memories of Tim being brainwashed, the memories of his children slipping away from his fingers, all of them were memories that forever guilted him.

But you… He never grew a bond with you, he never had photos on his desk when he worked, he never had family portraits involving you in anywhere. His one child that he was meant to love, gone.

“I-I’m… I’m sorry…” Bruce’s voice trembled ever so slightly, yet the way he whispered had his children knew he was breaking. His shaky gloved hands reached down for your corpse, cradling your head.

“We will find that beast that killed them,” Damien declared in a low tone, already staring up at the destroyed rooftop while brandishing his katanas. Yet his words of threat didn’t distract his trembling legs and tears.

Tim’s hands began to shake, heart in his throat as he wanted to shut out the sobs of Bruce. Dick tried to say something to him, to comfort his siblings, but not even himself can bring an uplift to this.

“Yeah, we’ll avenge them,” Steph placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, attempting to give a comforting smile, yet there was little to no comfort to give right now. She felt tears slide down her face, soaking her mask as she felt dread and regret.

Jason didn’t even react the way his gun slid out of his hand, twitching while his eyes began to glow lazarus green. A warehouse… Bruce clutching onto a body… everything became all too familiar to him.

Cass gently lifted the broken frame that held the photo of you and your mother. She wiped the glass away while intently analyzing every single detail she spotted. The way your mother carried you safely in her arms, the way you held onto the golden medal around her neck, happily biting down on it while your mother attempted to prevent any teeth damage made Cass’ heart tighten even more.

You were happy.

You never were in the manor.

She pocketed the photo inside her utility belt, looking back at the others. They somberly looked down as they heard Bruce’s quiet sobs, clutching onto your body as if you were still there, holding him back.

“Call in Alfred…” Was what Dick whispered out. No one dared to call Alfred, not knowing how he would react knowing that you’re…

“(Name)…” Duke felt like throwing up. It didn’t feel real at all. One minute, you were spending time with him inside this lab, and the next…? One shaky hand lifted up and pressed the watch to call in.

They couldn’t bear to listen to Alfred’s cries of despair.

꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁꧂ ꧁

“Drink up, kid. And no biting this time,” Harvey pushed your hands to tighten your grip around the mug he handed you. It was hot chocolate, something he picked up that was your favorite drink. Your other armed pulled at blanket around your shoulders closer, not saying anything else as you slowly sipped your drink.

It took hours to finally calm you down, but you were now just silent and looked completely lost. Crane theorized your mental self is still somewhere deep inside the conscious of the beast you’re now in. You’re still you, but you’re in a constant battle of human and beast fighting for control.

“It had to be the result of their little research,” Ivy hissed to herself. You had always tanked on about your late mother’s project. You wanted to complete it in her name, but it obviously went wrong.

Nashton tossed a blanket over you before going out to find something for you to eat. Harley skipped over and crouched next to you, tilting my her head while nudging you slightly.

“So ya really don’t know any is us, kid? Not even little ol’ me?” Harley gave a big grin, poking her cheek. Your big eyes flickered upward for a moment, staring at her before pulling away and focused on your mug.

“N-ngh… I…” You croaked out, throat still burning from either the screeching or pain. Harley’s grin faltered before giving a silent nod and patting your knee.

“How did something so horrific happen to such a sweet soul like them?” Selina frowned. She remembered the time you willingly picked up a stolen jewel she ran off with and happily gave it back to her. She was dumbfounded but found you endearing.

“You’d be surprised how many of us were “sweet souls” before life screwed us over,” Nashton called out before returning back to his hunt for food you liked. Ivy pushed Harley to the side so she wouldn’t provoke you and Getty lifted your chin with a vine.

“Hey, Bumblebee, you finally able to talk?” She asked gently. You could only nod before opening your mouth, your fangs sharp and prominent. However it was nothing they’re not used to, as they had villains with sharp fangs.

“S-scared…” You managed to choke out, gently cradling your throat. Ivy nodded, satisfied that this was a process no matter how slow it may be.

“I know you’re scared, Bumblebee, but you just have to listen to us,” She informed you with a gentle yet stern look. She held your large hands in hers, shivering that your other pairs of hands clasped them too, yet she continued.

“The Bats are after you for whatever reason, and we need to know why,” Ivy hates to admit it, but if the reason they’re after you if bigger than them, they cannot keep you here for refuge.

“D…Don’t K-…know,” Your brain could only remember so much, yet so little. You can barely remember the years you spent in a dark place. All you can ever remember is your mother, nothing else.

“H-Hive… I-…It saved me…” You rubbed a thumb over the lines of the hive. One bee crawled out of the entrance and buzzed around your finger, as if snuggling against you for comfort.

“I do-… n-not know why the h… hive chose me, but i-…it did,” Your glow illuminated brighter, “And I… I think-k… that it a-…always had,” A fuzzy memory of you cradling the hive flashed for a brief moment before it went blank.

“M-My fam-…ily…” Yeah, you could remember them, yet barely. There were many, young and old. Parents- no, one parent. Yet the one memory you can recall was- “T-…they made m…me th-this w… way…” Tears formed in your eyes, jaw wobbling from crying.

“Poor honeypot, the world is too cruel for you. You should let me handle your family,” Selina extended one of her claws. She might not know who your family is, but they are horrible people to treat you poorly.

“Seek revenge, kid,” Harvey clicked her tongue, “They’ve done nothing but hurt you, made you feel unseen, have them see you now!” He grasped his brass knuckles so tightly in his hands.

“Have them taste the fear you have endured,” Crane pulled his Scarecrow mask over his face and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Just beat their head open, kid!” Harley beamed while grabbing her baseball bat and slammed it against her palm with a wild grin. Your hands began to shake from the overwhelming suggestions, none that you liked.

“Hey,” Ivy glared at the others before turning back to you, “Bumblebee. Society may have wronged us, but do you really want to be like us?” You looked up at her before the others. They were familiar, your memories were kind enough to let them be remembered.

You can recall skating past them, only blurry visions of them smiling. They were outcasted by the city, yet you knew vaguely why. They hurt people like how people hurt them. They weren’t monsters like you, but they weren’t kind either.

“No…” You shook your head, “I-I j-just want… to… be-… belong,” Ivy rubbed her face before cradling your face, staring into your eyes before resting your head into her chest. You closed your eyes as you heard her heartbeat comfort you in a peaceful.

You were on your own now in this city.

Buzzzzz

You just needed someone to guide you.

A/N: This may be short, mostly because I got more stuff to right in the next chapter, but here you go! Sorry for not posting, but writer’s block is a huge bitch, ya know?

Poor reader, things will get better. Also, Selina does NOT know your family is the Waynes, I’ll get to that later.

Taglist: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star @moon0goddess @bad4amficideas @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @degenerates-posts @ryuushou @deathbynarcisstick @silverklaus @artistwithcreativeburnout @middevil465 @jsprien213 @1abi @oliviaewl @redkarmakai @nxdxsworld @the-dumber-scaramouche @sc3n3mo-t3to @tw-om-gi-hs-56387 @bunniotomia @welpthisisboring @rad4bean @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2

#yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere duke thomas #yandere cassandra cain #yandere stephanie brown #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere barbara gordon #queen bee’s hive

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il-miele-che-scrive · 1 year ago

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Lando reminds Max how he said he'll let Lando marry Y/n once he wins his first race

yn_verstappen My boy got his first win ❤️❤️so proud of you my love

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landonorris I think I fulfill the criteria for you know what @/maxverstappen1 do you remember what you said?

↳maxverstappen1 I refuse to remember

landonorris cmon I'd do it anyway

maxverstappen1 It was a JOKE

landonorris well I'm very serious about this

username1 What is Lando talking about?

↳username2 I think under some previous post Max said he'll let Lando marry his sister if he wins because it seemed so unrealistic but now oh well 💀

carlossainz55 As a friend of the both of you I can't wait

↳yn_verstappen Wait for what exactly? 👀

landonorris you know what 👀

yn_verstappen Nahhhh I know it was just a joke

landonorris yeah yeah, a joke, totally

username3 I AM CONFUSED

username2 I think Y/n thinks it wasn't for real😭

username4 Y/n blessing our eyes with the video on third slide 😏

↳yn_verstappen As a fangirl myself, I know what a fangirl desires 😌

username5 But fr fr Y/n would be so lucky if Lando actually proposed now

↳username6 I don't think he is being serious, they're still young and all

username7 And why would he try to outshine his first win with a proposal??

username8 So is the wedding happening or not?!

↳username9 It MUST happen now

josverstappen7 Impressive 👏

↳yn_verstappen Ik dacht dat ik je geblokkeerd had lol

username3 "I THOUGHT I BLOCKED YOU" LMAO

↳username10 Hey Jos, is Max on his way to the gas station yet?

username11 He's still walking from the circuit back to the hotel lmao

landonorris It's a win-win situation

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yn_verstappen Max still can't believe you did it lmao

↳landonorris he was the one who gave me the idea!

maxverstappen1 IT WAS A JOKE

landonorris doesn't change the fact that it gave me the idea

username1 Max gonna hate himself for the rest of his life lol he trapped himself with Lando as brother in law

↳username2 Poor Maxie 🤣

yn_verstappen Poor Maxie indeed lmao

carlossainz55 Did Y/n take these photos?

↳landonorris of course she did

↳yn_verstappen Yessir I did

georgerussell63 Why's the ring so small? 🤣

↳yn_verstappen Well I love it regardless

georgerussell63 He's just won a race, should try a bit harder, not sure if that impresses Max

maxverstappen1 Remind me, where's your ring for Carmen? 🤔

username3 Max casually shutting George up lmao

↳yn_verstappen He loves his brother in law after all🥹

username4 I love how Max pretends to not like Lando, but when George try to say something he's defending

↳username5 That's real sibling energy

carlossainz55 Congrats to the both of you! 💪

↳landonorris during one weekend I did two things no one expected me to do

username6 No but that's a valid point Max got, cuz how long have Y/n and Lando been together? A YEAR AND HE ALREADY PROPOSED

↳username7 meanwhile Carmen still waiting for her ring after years

username8 Max ain't getting rid of Lando after this

↳yn_verstappen I think he doesn't mind it 😅

username9 Jos getting another son to train

↳username10 Jos pls turn Lando into a world champion

username9 Possibly without the abuse part?

yn_verstappen Not possible I think lol

josverstappen7 Take good care of her

↳yn_verstappen Better than you did 😐

↳username11 Jos tryna make a comeback into Y/n's life lmao

username12 Suddenly he even follows Lando?

username11 Thankfully Lando doesn't follow him back

maxverstappen1 To clear up the accusations - I will not hate myself for giving him the idea, I enjoy having Lando in the family

↳yn_verstappen They know, Maxie 😭 they're just joking around

username13 Imagine Max, Lando and Y/n together in the same room with Jos 💀

↳username2 I meannn Y/n does a pretty good job avoiding her father, I don't think she wants Lando to meet him

username1 Man's extremely rich, are we surprised?

username2 Trying to impress Max lmao first the win, now this

username3 Well it's understandable that they want privacy on such day

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF JOS WILL BE THERE

↳username2 Knowing Y/n she won't invite him

username4 As 👏 she 👏 should 👏

username5 Little Lando Norris is the last person from the grid that I expected to get married now

↳username1 Or ever lol

username6 I hope after they are married and have kids Jos will stay away from them

↳username7 Yeah I don't think Y/n would want Jos to be involved in the kids' life after how abusive he was towards Max

username8 Abusive 💀 if it wasn't for Jos Max wouldn't be a world champion

username7 What about Lewis who didn't have an abusive parent?

username9 I'm really hoping to see Y/n keep her last name so their kids can have the last name of a world champion

↳username2 Lando still has a chance 😭 if not this season, then he still has a lot of time

↳username10 Maybe "no kids before Lando's first championship" is their second rule lmao

yn_norstappen Better than I've ever dreamed of 💓 thank you everyone for being there for us and celebrating our love together 💓 and thank you to my amazing husband for making me his wife

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username1 norstappen in the username 😭 I love her she's iconic

landonorris thank you to my beautiful wife for existing

↳username2 I think we know who he can thank for this 💀

maxverstappen1 It was better than I expected

↳landonorris supportive as always❤️

↳yn_norstappen Chill Maxie we all know you're happy for us

georgerussell63 It was such a beautiful wedding

↳yn_norstappen You should take notes, maybe you'll need it one day

carlossainz55 I cried and I'm proud of it

↳yn_norstappen I had no idea you'd be so touched!

carlossainz55 I guess it was just very heartwarming to see Lando get married, especially when you're the one he's getting married to

yn_norstappen Thank you 🥹🫶 I also cried a lot and I'm crying again reading all these kind comments

↳username3 Lando also cried! It was funny to see that after he said he's just not the kinda guy to cry during touching moments like this

username4 Yeahhhh I was surprised he didn't cry after his first win like 🥹aren't u happy pookie⁉️

yn_norstappen If you like to see Lando crying, wait for a video of our wedding day!!

↳landonorris that was kinda cute!

charles_leclerc Your first win, your first wife, what's next?😂

↳yn_norstappen FIRST and LAST wife

landonorris obviously baby

username3 New gossip alert, he said "obviously baby" without a comma ("obviously, baby") so what if he's actually replying to Charles' question saying next is their first baby? 😭

oscarpiastri So happy to have been with you on such important day

↳landonorris cheesy osc

↳yn_norstappen Thank you Oscar

mclaren Cheers to the newlyweds 🥂 (and to many more wins of Lando's)

↳oscarpiastri But tbh such a shame there was no orange theme

landonorris the baby shower will be black and orange

oscarpiastri You're already planning I see

landonorris it's a bit obvious innit

yn_norstappen LANDO

yn_norstappen We're NOT having a baby YET

landonorris after the first world champion title✍️got it baby

josverstappen7 Shame I couldn't be there with you, but happy regardless

↳yn_norstappen You COULDN'T? I didn't invite you

↳username2 nahhh Jos is tryna make it seem like he couldn't make it but we all know he just wasn't invited lmao

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 social media au #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #Lando norris social media au #Lando norris imagine #Lando norris one shot #Lando norris fanfic

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yohanseyebrowmole · 4 months ago

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hi lovie!

can I request Percy Jackson x daughter of Apollo reader , maybe they're having a beach day after a long day of school

OR Percy x daughter of Apollo social media au

Ilysm!

Apricate | Percy Jackson

(v.) to bask in the sun

Pairing: Percy Jackson x daughterofapollo!reader

Sum: The sun and the beach are made for each other

or in which

Percy and his girlfriend enjoy a beach day after a long week at school.

Word count: 1060

Warnings: none, just a whole lotta playful banter.

a/n: Decided to do the first one because beach days are so cuteeee! Reader is a daughter of Apollo (of course!) and the relationship is established cause I said so <3

Also, I'm sorry this took so long (for months now, I think), but it's literally been sitting in my drafts, and I forgot about it FORGIVE ME!!! Tried to avoid using y/n (I don't think I used it at all, actually, but I don't even remember, lmao)

☆ Percy Jackson never thought he would find someone who loved the beach more than him.

He was completely and utterly wrong.

His girlfriend (arguably) loved the beach more than him. Being a daughter of Apollo, she felt and looked as if she belonged.

Whenever you were at the beach, the sky would be free of clouds (even if it looked like it was about to rain minutes ago), and the sun would glow a little brighter and burn a little harsher than it did before you got there, as if in greeting.

Underneath the sun and among the scent of salt, you felt safe; you felt at home. Which was probably why you connected so well with Percy when they first met.

The sun and sea go hand in hand after all.

Beach dates with Percy were your favourite type of date. Sure, going to the arcade or the movies was fun, but nothing truly beats a beach day.

You remember your mother bringing you down to the coastline to catch crabs or try and spot a pod of dolphins—perks of being born and raised in Maine, you guessed—it practically became tradition to go down to the beach every weekend.

Ever since you started living at Camp Half-Blood, you tried to hold on to those memories and traditions despite whatever world-ending event you had to deal with. It didn't matter if you were at camp or on a life-threatening mission to save the world; you would always find or make time to go down to the nearest coastline and just breathe.

Beach days with Percy reminded you of the better days, the ones where you spent the entire day building sandcastles or running along the surf with your friends, especially after long days trying to keep up with the mounting pile of assessments you had on your desk at home.

Percy, despite his whining, always made time to drive you both down to the beach straight after school every Friday. He would make sure all of your things were packed before school: lunch, books, spare clothes, towels, and everything else were always placed neatly in the trunk of his car.

Hands wrapped encircled your waist, and you got pulled into a hard chest.

"Where's your head at, pretty girl?" Percy said as he placed his head on your shoulder. "You look like you're so far away."

"Just thinking," you respond.

"About what?"

"Dessert."

Percy snorts. "Isn't it too early to be thinking about that? We haven't even had dinner yet."

You pout lightly. "It's never too early to think about dessert. I'm thinking cupcakes, oh, or better yet a whole cake. Wait, or maybe we should have ice cream? Ugh, I can't choose. Should we have ice cream or cake?"

"I'll get whatever you get," Percy said.

"I asked you so you could choose," you huff. "Not so you could try and be a good boyfriend and be down to get whatever I want."

"But I would be down to get whatever you want."

"I'll hit you, Jackson. Don't test me."

"Abuse from my own girlfriend," Percy sighed, shaking his head. "This calls for drastic countermeasures."

"What-"

Your sentence gets cut off as Percy picks you up and literally throws you over his shoulder.

"Perseus Jackson!" you shout as you look up and notice where he is carrying you. "If I get so much as one drop of seawater in my hair, I'm going to kill you! Percy, I'm serious!"

Percy laughs and picks up speed.

"No, wait-"

You don't have any time to beg for mercy as Percy throws you into the surf. You are quick to hold your breath as you go under. You decide you want to scare the boy and stay under as payback.

Your revenge is unfortunately unsuccessful because Percy never actually lets go of your arm after he throws you in. One second you go under the next, you are being pulled straight back out and into his chest.

"I hate you!" you splutter, raising a hand to wipe off the water from your face.

"At least I won't be dying today," Percy laughs. "I didn't get any of your hair wet."

You raise your hand and feel your hair. Lo and behold, it was as dry as it was before your boyfriend decided to throw you into the ocean. Ah, so that's why he didn't let go of your arm.

"I still hate you," you say.

"Mhm," Percy said. "I love you too."

"Hey," you said. "You know what we could do to become rich?"

Percy raises a brow at the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"We could get a boat, and you could be one of those deep-sea fishermen."

"Uh, I don't so."

"But why not? What's so good about being literally the son of the sea god if you don't try and make a profit from it?"

"I-"

"Like I should become a producer or something. Just imagine how much money I could make. The sales would be insane."

Percy somehow managed to divert the conversation, but he better believe you would be bringing it up again.

After you had tackled Percy and forced asked him to choose what to have for dessert, the two of you found yourselves at the local ice cream shop.

"Percy," you whine. "My ice cream is melting."

"I know how you could get it to stop," Percy said.

"How?"

"Finish it faster."

"How about I stab you with my fork instead? Also, I can't eat it that fast; it's too cold. Do you want me to get a brain freeze?"

"Okay, but can you even get a brain freeze?"

"Huh, I don't know. Before you say anything, we aren't testing it out."

Percy slumps into his chair, dejected. "But if you don't finish it quickly, it'll melt."

"Exactly!" you whine. "The world hates me! I should just give up and die."

"Every minor inconvenience has you saying that," Percy mutters under his breath.

"What was that Perseus?"

"I said, Do you want me to finish it for you?"

You pull the ice cream away from his reach. "Nuh-uh. It's mine!"

"I'll drown you."

"I'll blind you before you can drown me."

"I can still drown you if I'm blind."

You open and close your mouth. "I hate you."

"I love you too, pretty girl."

I had no idea how to end this after not seeing it for so long so I apologise for the rushed/abrupt ending😭

Anyway! I hope you enjoyed reading!

Yor <3

#yor<3 #yorspage #yorsfics #fanfic #percy x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson smut #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #pjofics #riordanverse x reader #percy series #percy jackson x fem!reader #pjo fandom

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prodagustd · 1 year ago

Text

the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake.

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not.

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month.

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t, why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago.

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away.

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you.

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart.

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him.

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy.

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet.

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget.

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch.

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage.

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it.

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again.

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly.

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.”

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump.

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air.

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.”

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously.

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.”

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse.

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that.

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you.

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong.

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered.

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no.

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day.

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all.

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it.

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist.

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you.

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind.

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself.

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?”

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you.

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon.

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe…

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.”

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon?

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you.

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.”

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different?

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first.

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?”

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question.

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly.

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?”

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people.

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.”

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.”

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you.

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh.

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping.

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered.

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room.

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster.

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat.

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door.

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t.

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right.

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth.

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it.

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes.

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle.

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve.

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade.

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products.

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you.

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not.

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her.

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor.

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you.

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation.

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped.

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words.

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was?

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him.

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.”

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant.

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute.

What. Was. He. Doing.

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face.

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it.

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that.

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him.

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure.

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were.

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling.

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other.

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation.

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you.

“Well, I can only imagine…” She said, but you did not miss her undertone.

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind.

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you.

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside.

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame.

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you.

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit.

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment.

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came.

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him?

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away.

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home.

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you.

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts.

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city.

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.”

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises.

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart.

Nothing like reality, you thought.

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.”

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations.

But of course, once again, you were wrong.

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…”

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind.

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were.

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth.

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else.

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear.

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine.

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again.

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing?

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved.

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent.

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that.

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.”

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him.

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick.

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.”

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless.

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response.

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree.

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him.

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.”

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804

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howlsofbloodhounds · 10 months ago

Text

[experiment]: {2/2}

(I will refer to the Undertale versions by their names—Doctor Gaster, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne—and the Othertale versions by their nicknames. Shade, Color, Ivory, Sage.

I have the first part linked in the numbers if it’s hard to see.)

Sans rushes to tell Gaster, but he is not as excited as Sans thought he would be. He tells Sans to immediately go back and extract “the energy” before it does anymore damage to her body.

When Sans protests, confused because he thought this is what Gaster wanted, a frustrated Gaster explains nothing. Just tells Sans to go back and do as he’s told.

Sans can’t bring himself to tell Undyne the truth and ruin her happiness—so instead he tells her to get some sleep.

Undyne is disappointed because Gaster isn’t there, and worries about what if he comes back and she’s asleep—to which Sans assures her he’ll wake her up if Gaster comes back.

(It really seems like Undyne was attached a lot to Gaster. Wanting him to share in her excitement, feeling safe when he’s around.)

And then, of course, Sans extracts the energy from the girl’s eye when she’s sleeping.

He does it with just a hand. Painless and quick—the energy goes easily back to him before Sans dismisses it.

(If hands can give and take magic energy—perhaps also as a tie into to Gaster, the man with holes in his hands and “speaks in hands”—then perhaps that explains why Color needed physical contact with Ivory to reopen her eye.

He just chose to punch her lmao. Such as difference from their interactions in this short.)

This what we see if we slow it down the moment that the screen glitches. Because Gaster fell (jumped?) into the Core.

We see that what happened to Color also happened to Gaster—possibly creating a different version of Undertale the way Sans’ erasure created Othertale.

And above see Color over Sans. Perhaps this is him immediately after absorbing the souls. He appears to be bleeding from the eye and mouth—and the look on his face seems dizzy with pain and shock.

The glitch is enough to cause Undyne to wake up, confused and in pain. She asks Sans what happened, and he replies that he needs to check on someone—but when she asks who, he says he doesn’t know.

It appears the process of forgetting Gaster was immediate. After this, we get this scene where Sans finds a picture/drawing in the Core:

This makes me think that Gaster jumped.

Don’t forget written, his frustration and shame about his perceived constant failures, Sans seems concerned about him and him being alone, the way there’s this mystery mistake that Gaster did.

The way Gaster still seems to keep a distance from Sans even when the other reaches out, the seemingly increasing arguments between them, the way Gaster claims that the energy in the eye would damage Undyne’s body and Sans should remove it immediately—yet doesn’t go to do it himself or check on Undyne despite being shown to be an attentive doctor whose patients feel safe and comfortable with him.

The way he refuses to explain himself or what he wants to Sans, shutting down any attempt to connect or understand—ordering Sans to do as he’s told. The way the world glitches and Sans’ immediate thought is that he needs to go check on someone, despite not even knowing who he has to check on.

I don’t know. It seems to me that a stream of constant mistakes tore down Gaster with shame and guilt, one he couldn’t pull himself out of even when his experiment finally succeeded.

A lot of the relationship between Gaster/Shade and Color/Sans seems to be driven by anger and guilt and a sense of responsibility.

Sans seems to feel a responsibility to keep a look out for Gaster, but also seems to not want to intrude on his space and Gaster seems likely to avoid and snap at Sans—possibly because he may be a reminder of his failures.

It seems opposite in the Void. Shade seems to feel a responsibility to look after Color’s mental, physical and emotional health—and Color just seems too drained and at the end of his rope to even be able to attempt to reciprocate.

Gaster may have committed suicide (or intended to) by jumping in the Core, and Color has almost killed himself trying to escape the Void and only survived because of Shade.

It gives me the vibes that Shade is putting Color on suicide watch, and Color is irate about it because—unlike Shade—Color isn’t trying to die or wanting to die, he’s trying to escape. Or at least that’s what Color may be telling himself, and is lashing out verbally at Shade for stopping him.

Which adds yet another parallel to Color and Stage 1 Killer. Having their choice to die or attempts to self harm or attempts to escape taken away from them by others (Killer because someone still wants to use him, Color because Shade feels responsible for him and guilty and probably also doesn’t want to be alone in the Void and forgotten if he truly did write the “Don’t forget.”)

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 year ago

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HOLY SHIT

I just got to reading the request you did for me

Aka Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

And I love it so much???

Like it's so good 😭

Don't wanna bother you with another request but could you do a part 2? I'm just curious on if the reader ever succeeds or if alastor ends up getting their marriage back lmao

A/N i’m so glad you liked it!! a number of people have been asking for a part two actually so of course :) Also this is my reminder that I am not a woman in stem but an enby in classics so I get science things wrong,, i’m very sorry.

Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2 (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Nothing I can think of please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 2,206

First Part: Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I can still be useful" Alastor told himself as he straightened the lapels on his jacket, "She still needs me."

Alastor leaned into the mirror, slicking his hair back just the slightest bit.

"Yes." he nodded to his reflection.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor stepped out into the hall. He didn't know why he was so nervous. Y/n had never caused anxiety to rule his being before, so why was it happening now?

Since her arrival at the hotel, she had stayed locked in her room. Two whole days had gone by and the demon avoided everyone and everything. It was not unexpected or out of the blue, she had always favored her own company above anyone else's but, Charlie was growing tense. She had asked Alastor to help bring their newest guest out of her shell, hoping their shared past would cause his attempts to be more fruitful than her own had been. For some odd reason, Alastor had agreed.

Fondness was the trouble. He was fond of Charlie, and he had always had a bit of a soft spot for Y/n. She had been his wife for christ's sake, there was no way he couldn't have fostered some sort of affection for the wildly brilliant and creative girl.

Before he really realized it, Alastor was at the door to Y/n's room. She had taped a sheet of loose leaf to the door. Keep Out had been written on it in all caps, in her familiar, messy handwriting. Alastor's smile softened slightly at the sight.

Y/n had not haunted his thoughts, had not been an obsession, since his arrival in Hell. While he had recalled her with warmth and a slight smile, even looked for her in Hell on occasion, she had mostly stayed out of his mind after his death. Alastor had had bigger things to deal with, more important occupations of his time. He had had plans. He still had plans but, everything had seemed to change the second Y/n had appeared and nearly flat out told him she didn't care about him.

Alastor was nothing if not prideful. His image, his sense of self, his power, it all played in to the idea of himself in his head. He had figured that through the years of their arrangement, the strange woman had come to harbor some sort of affection for him as he did her. He had figured she at least cared for him as a friend, that her irritation had been friendly, playful even. Clearly, he had been incorrect.

The door suddenly swung open revealing Y/n. She wore an cross expression, a lab coat, and safety goggles. Peering over her shoulder into the room, Alastor noted the way her hair was still continuing whatever she'd been working on before opening the door. He had never seen a demon with a form like hers before. It was perfectly suited, equally unusual as the soul it housed.

"I could feel you standing out here."

Alastor raised his eyebrows, bravado taking over.

"Really, my dear?" he asked, leaning on his microphone before him as if it were a cane.

"Yeah." Y/n flatly replied, lifting the goggles from their eyes and pushing them onto their forehead, "What do you want?"

"I..."

What did he want? Alastor was a man who always knew his goals, his aims. He was always working towards something, no deed without its purpose. It was only now he realized that he didn't really know what he wanted from Y/n, why he had really agreed to fulfill Charlie's request with nothing given in return. Alastor cleared his throat, banishing the complicated thought to another time.

"Charlie requested I come speak to you about your lack of participation in the hotel's group activities."

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"And you care what I do with my time because...?"

She tilted her head slightly to the side, her hands still on either side of the doorframe, blocking him from entering the room. Alastor sighed.

"You're not going to make this an easy conversation, are you."

It was a statement, not a question, and a slight smile cracked across Y/n's tired face.

"You know me so well." she joked lightly.

Alastor was ready, preparing himself to have to force his way into the room to have this chat. He saw the way her hand on the door twitched, and prepared himself to have it slammed in his face. Much to his surprise, Y/n let go of her hold on the door and stepped to the side.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to come in?" she asked after a moment, her head cocked to the side in a genuine curiosity.

Alastor nearly laughed. Always so inquisitive with regards to the world around her, always trying to fill the gaps in her understanding, usually at a loss when it came to what was considered normal interaction. He stepped into the room. Y/n's hair stopped what it was doing with the test tubes in the back and closed the door for her as she turned to face him. After a look of appraisal, she seemed to decide the atmosphere for the conversation and sat down on the bed, patting the empty space beside her at Alastor's continued hesitation. He sat down and she crossed her legs, watching him intently.

"You need to stop avoiding people, and the activities. You are here to be redeemed, aren't you?"

"Oh! I see what the issue is." Y/n smiled brightly, "No, I'm not."

Alastor's brow furrowed. He had thought it odd that Y/n of all people would seek redemption but, had figured the time had simply changed her in ways he had yet to grasp.

"Then why are you here?"

The little beast called hope clawed at the inside of his stomach, gnawed on his ribs. The want was unfamiliar.

"Because I need an angel."

Alastor froze.

"You need..." he watched her in confusion, "you need an angel?"

"Yep." Y/n nodded in earnest.

She smiled up at him, evidently satisfied with herself and her response. She had always been like this. Alastor sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I need to test my virus on one, duh."

"Y/n, what are you planning."

"Same thing as always. Actually, I could use your help. Maybe this isn't all so bad, can you get me an angel? Just at the next extermination or something. I already know it works on demons, I just don't want to actually let my little baby loose without knowing it will work on the angels as well."

"Jesus, Y/n." Alastor laughed lightly, unable to not.

He shook his head in disbelief and Y/n's smile slipped from her face. She was always scheming, always wanting, always doing what it took to ensure she got what she wanted. They were so alike in that way: complete and utter disregard for the world unless it served them.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Did this hotel already work? Have the exterminations stopped?"

"No, I... you really haven't changed."

"Well, I'm taking out the afterlife now instead of the living world, but sure." Y/n crossed her arms, evidently irritated by his remark, "I'm just the same. So are you, by the way. I've heard about what you've been up to since you died."

Alastor was silent in thought for a moment before he spoke again. He looked at Y/n with a determined gaze.

"Are you asking to reinstate our deal?"

Y/n was wrong, Alastor had changed, she just didn't know it yet. The hotel had changed him, whether or not he wanted to admit it. He realized the answer to Y/n's initial question, what it was that he wanted, in that moment and there were only three things. The first was the same as it had been for the last seven years, to get rid of this damned contract he was under. The second? The second he had realized earlier, in his room when he'd been getting ready to come to Y/n, he just hadn't liked it and so, he had ignored it. Alastor wanted to be back in her good books. More importantly, for some undefinable reason, Alastor wanted her back at his side. The world, he had realized, had felt empty without her, no matter how irritating and distracting she could be. Though his motivations were muddy, figuring out the reason for the want was never the priority. The end goal was to fulfill by any means necessary. It always had been, for both of them. The third was that Alastor secretly wanted Charlie's crazy plan to work out. He wanted to protect these sinners, to protect this place they had all worked so hard to build.

There was a point of intersection to be found in two of these three things, if Y/n answered his question correctly. Taking out sinners, taking an angel, could let all hell loose on the hotel. Convincing Y/n to make a deal with him, to give Alastor her soul, well, that would be killing two birds with one stone. He would have his imperfect little companion in afterlife and he could stop her from doing any more damage to the hotel and its reputation than necessary to ensure the first thing took place.

"I suppose."

That was exactly what he had been hoping to hear. The first deal had been under her terms. Alastor had been hoodwinked into it, unable to turn it down due to the information on him she had uncovered. Now, the tables had turned. Alastor held his hand out towards her, grinning malevolently.

"How about this, let's make a new one."

"I don't see why not." Y/n shrugged after having thought it over, her hand meeting his, "Things are different, we're both dead. The old one wouldn't really work anymore."

"No, it wouldn't, would it?"

"Yeah so, you get me an angel to test this on. I start participating more in the hotel. Deal?"

"How about this." Alastor's grin widened, his antlers growing as well as his shadows ate away at the room's walls.

Y/n didn't flinch. Nothing in her expression changed save a slight twinge of intrigue as she watched him become more monstrous by the second, more all consuming.

"I help you get an angel. You stick by my side, like the old days. That would include participation in the hotel and all of Charlie's plans as it is where I work for now. A metaphorical taking of a soul rather than a heart, shall we say."

He was counting on her lack of interest in the world outside of science right now, counting on her lack of understanding of how things worked in Hell when an overlord offered a deal like this. He had chosen the words carefully, getting everything right while keeping the truth hidden.

"I'll still have time to work on my project?" she asked skeptically.

"When there is time."

Y/n smiled.

"Deal."

Green smoke wound its way out from the point their palms met. Y/n watched it, eyes wide with intrigue as it curled around them, temporarily filling the room.

"Is that what happens when deals get made in Hell?" Y/n asked as she let go of Alastor's hand.

"Only certain ones."

"Cool."

She got to her feet, snapping her goggles back over her eyes. Turning to the table, she began to fiddle with her test tubes once again. Alastor retook his normal form, watching her with a satisfied smirk. He summoned the chain, feeling the cool shadow of the mellow across his fingers. Y/n seemed not to notice as the collar formed around her neck. Alastor didn't like that, didn't like being ignored. He gave it a tug and she stumbled back a few steps, her hands flying to her throat and her hair catching the glass beaker she had nearly dropped.

Y/n noticed the chain now. It was impossible not to. As her hair set the beaker down, she turned to Alastor, eyes fixed on the glowing metal. Her gaze traced it from where she held it to his hands. Y/n looked up at him.

"What's this?" she asked, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, "When did this get here? How..."

She trailed off and Alastor's smile grew wider still. He advanced towards her, wrapping the excess chain around the handle of his microphone. It clinked menacingly against itself, spawning a sudden deep seated dread in Y/n.

She held her place, her shoulders thrown back and feet planted firmly. Alastor couldn't tell if it was all a show or if she really was not at all scared of him in that moment. He didn't really care, it didn't matter. She stared intently up at him in defiance as Alastor came to a stop about a half a foot away.

"Well?"

"Oh my sweet, you really have no idea what you've gotten yourself in to, do you?"

It was better than he could have hoped, could have dreamed. She was entirely under his control.

"Welcome to the rest of your afterlife."

----

Next Part → Till Death do us Part pt. 3

A/N I wasn't super sure how to end this off, I hope you liked it!!

@marukun @nanami1chu @i-like-potatoes12533 @boogiemansbitch @apenasandorinha @almond-t0fu @mygoldtears @ahellborn @winterisholding @misty-melody @themetalbabygirl @trash-shoot

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 6 months ago

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Hey I was wondering if you could do something with toriel and a few of the senses, what if Frisk came into the underground and didn't speak English? What if they could only speak a language like Spanish? How would Toriel and Sans react and how would they deal with the situation?

Undertale Sans - He didn't notice before his little threat at MTT Resort. It's not like the kid is really talkative in the first place. But when after reminding them they could have died, they just blinked at him in complete confusion and awkwardness, he understood something was weird. Frisk is just too polite to tell him they didn't get any of whatever he just said lmao. So, uh... They nod to please him??? Sans is surprised they take it so well, so he tries to trick them by asking if they like Mettaton's weird green tutu. The kid nods as well. He thought they were deaf before hearing them talk to Toriel as they were all standing at the end of the cave. That makes a lot more sense. Sans feels kinda like a clown though as it's now obvious the kid didn't understand anything he said, even his speech in the Judgement Hall. Man, he worked hard on it, not cool.

Undertale Papyrus - Well, that's awkward. Papyrus didn't realize the child was not talking their language before their "date," where Frisk talked to him. Now, Papyrus is good at planning things and following simple rules in a book. However, he is not good at unexpected events. Papyrus just... stares. in complete silence. For a solid twenty minutes. Frisk eventually decides to leave, and Papyrus finally sighs in relief. This date was intense, but not the way he thought it would be. His autism needs a break for a few minutes lol.

Undertale Toriel - She was a bit confused when she asked if they like butterscotch or cinnamon and they just answered some weird thing. She thinks the kid is not able to talk yet lol. So, that's a problem when Frisk comes to her to ask how they can leave and Toriel just coos at them and pets their head. Frisk is so frustrated.

Underswap Sans - Blue is not the most patient person with children in the first place. But still, his puzzle is not that hard! Why are they looking at him in complete confusion? Eventually, he screams at them the answer, pissed off, but that doesn't seem to help either. He gives up. That's Honey's problem now lol. Humans are more intelligent in Undyne's human history books. He's disappointed.

Underswap Papyrus - He's already stressed because promising Asgore to watch over the human and actually watching over the human are two very different things, but the fact that the kid doesn't understand when he runs after them screaming to avoid them getting killed by Alphys is giving him so much anxiety he feels like he's going to die. COULD YOU STOP RUNNING TO YOUR DEATH FOR TWO MINUTES? CAN'T YOU SEE HE'S TRYING TO HELP?! That's the last time he accepts to be a human's guardian!

Underfell Sans - He doesn't like it. He feels like the kid is insulting him somehow, but he can't prove they're insulting him. Why would they look at him like that otherwise? There's no way in hell they want him to be their friend, so they must be mocking him, he decided. He's going to complain even more that he has to protect them or some shit, and beat their ass twice as hard in the Judgement Hall.

Underfell Papyrus - He tries to communicate with drawings to explain to the human that he wants to fight them and possibly kill them so he can take their soul. All Frisk sees is a drawing of Edge, a drawing of themself and a heart between the two of them. Frisk hugs Edge and tells him they love him too. .... Frisk uses a friendship attack, it's very effective! Edge is KO.

Horrortale Sans - He ignores Aliza. What do you want him to do? He killed them. Several times. That didn't work. He's too old, angry and sour to care about some random brat that doesn't want to be eaten like the others. His brother can take care of this.

Horrortale Papyrus - He thought he was very clever by encouraging you to go in his oven with wide gestures, but turns out that the child actually understands what he wants and doesn't want to do it. How come you didn't understand anything he said to you the last three hours but you understood that? He's bamboozled. FINE. He guesses he will help you or something since you beat him.

Swapfell Sans - That's ok. The terror of being chased by a royal guard in full armor is enough of a universal language. Nox has no difficulty making the kid understand what he wants.

Swapfell Papyrus - Uh. He tries to mimic the kid's language, and somehow, in two hours, he's fluent in Spanish. That's not that hard. He's not sure how he did that, it just happened? He doesn't understand why the kid is so shocked. Isn't it how you learn a new language? At least it makes things easier.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's so disappointed. He got told his whole life that humans were evil master minds that could destroy monsters in an instant, but he asked the child for their soul and they just smiled at him and nodded???? Don't you realize he wants you dead??? Don't you have any survival instinct? What's your problem??? Wine can't kill that child, it doesn't feel right. They don't even know they're going to die, that's ridiculous. And that's how Wine accepts to guide you to the Barrier, just because somehow you managed to confuse him. You have no idea what's going on, but he looks nice!

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He wanted to be friendly but then you started summoning a demon or something and suddenly he's not so sure you're friendly anymore. You know what? Just wait here, he'll come back. Coffee leaves and runs for his life, not noticing the kid is hanging to his hoodie, having fun.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #toriel #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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collapsedglasshouses · 4 months ago

Text

FOLLOW YOU [Nick Folio x f!Reader]

: ̗̀➛ MASTERLIST

: ̗̀➛SUMMARY: At thirty-seven, Y/n’s life feels like a series of wrong turns—divorced, jobless, and still unable to say no to her parents' expectations. But when she meets Nick, a confident and carefree man ten years her junior, one impulsive night with him challenges everything she thought she knew about herself. : ̗̀➛PAIRING: Nick Folio x f!reader : ̗̀➛WARNINGS: MDNI (i warn you, i'll bite if i catch you), 18+, reader is ten years older than nick, SMUT SMUT SMUT [oral sex (f&m receiving), protected pinv, nick whimpering >:)], mentions that reader is a writer/wants to write, mentions of reader's previous marriage, mentions of matt's lotr obsession and how its shown in fanfics, swearing (idek if it is a warning on my blog anymore, its always present lmao), nick calls reader sweetheart, fluffy smut hehe, y/f/n = your father's name : ̗̀➛WORD COUNT: 6.2K : ̗̀➛A/N: So here's the long awaited request. Again... sorry it took me so long, but I just needed time to get into it. I also kind of answered another request with this (another anon asked for fluffy folio smut, so ur welcome <3). This piece is inspired by Follow You by Bring Me The Horizon and I hope you catch the references c: Enjoy and let me know what you think! <3 TAGLIST AND DIVIDER CREDIT AT THE END

Sometimes, you wondered where you had taken a wrong turn in life. You were approaching your forties, divorced, and had just quit the job you once swore would carry you to retirement. On top of that, you still couldn’t figure out why you lacked the courage to tell your parents "no" - especially when it came to attending their annual parties, extravagant celebrations meant to showcase their success in the music industry.

They had started their record label shortly after your dad had left his old band - right around the time you turned three. You didn’t remember much of life before then, but you had always been aware of the shift. Your mother loved reminiscing about the days when your father was a carefree, bubbly spirit, always lost in music and adventure. Yet, every year at this event, his attempt to reclaim that persona only made it painfully obvious how much everything had changed. It was a cruel reminder of the version of him you never got to experience.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your father - you had your moments. But looking back on your childhood, you saw the contrast between his distant, absent nature and the high-spirited character he played at these gatherings. It was no wonder your marriage had unraveled so quickly - just over a year ago; you had recognized the same facade in your ex-husband, the same manufactured charm that cracked under the weight of reality.

Despite your silent vows to endure these nights for the sake of keeping your parents happy, the resentment still crept in, suffocating you.

You caught your own reflection in the bathroom mirror, adjusting the neckline of your dress - a simple black gown with a high slit, a deliberate choice against the more extravagant dress your mother had picked out. The discussion about it had already been held, and as expected, your mother had sighed in disappointment but relented. At least the heels and necklace sat right with her.

The event had been going on for an hour, yet it already felt like an eternity. Of course, you had arrived early to help with the final decorations, avoiding your father in the process. He had been too engrossed in boasting about their latest signing - a rising metalcore band. You hadn’t even bothered to listen to their music, uninterested in indulging yet another conversation about his triumphs. Worse still, he had managed to lace his bragging with subtle reminders that your own life was, in his eyes, going nowhere. His disappointment clung to you like a second skin, suffocating and inescapable.

You inhaled sharply, composing yourself before stepping back into the party, your practiced smile back in place.

An hour later, you found yourself stuck in a painfully dull conversation with a producer who couldn’t keep his eyes off your cleavage. You were contemplating an excuse to leave when your mother’s voice interrupted.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you.” She appeared at your side, her manicured hand pressing against your back as she steered you toward the bar. "I need you to meet some people."

You barely had time to react before you were standing in front of two men. One was tall, covered in tattoos almost from head to toe, while the other, slightly shorter, had long dark brown hair up in a bun. Both turned to you with polite smiles, setting down their drinks.

“Don’t be rude, Y/N.” Your mother’s whisper was sharp as she leaned toward your ear. “These are two of the members from our new band. Bad Omens, you remember?”

You forced a brighter smile, though it felt unnatural, and muttered a soft, “Hi.”

They returned your wave with casual nods.

“These are Noah, the singer, and Joakim, the guitarist,” your mother continued, beaming with pride as if she had personally discovered them herself.

Sensing your discomfort, they nodded again with small smiles, clearly recognizing your reluctance to be there. Without warning, your mother excused herself, abandoning you with them and leaving you scrambling for small talk.

You took a long sip of your drink before clearing your throat. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all ours,” Joakim, the one with long hair, said with a smirk. “We didn’t know Y/F/N had kids.”

“Yeah, he tends to forget to mention that,” you replied, forcing a chuckle.

An awkward silence stretched between you, and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “So, how many are in the band?” you finally asked.

“Four,” Noah answered. “Our bassist got sick before the event, and honestly, I have no idea where Folio wandered off to.” He smiled, seemingly trying to put you at ease.

You nodded, looking around, already searching for an escape route. “I don’t wanna keep you up.”

“You’re not,” Joakim assured you. “We get how nerve-wracking these events can be.”

You appreciated the sentiment, but it wasn’t enough to make you stay. “I think I’m gonna get some air,” you excused yourself, not waiting for a response before slipping away.

Weaving through the crowd, you found your way to the second-floor balcony, a hidden haven where you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed.

Or so you thought.

Pushing open the door, you were met with the sight of a man sitting on the floor, staring out at the city skyline. The unexpected presence startled you, nearly making you drop the bottle of wine you had swiped from storage.

“Jesus, you scared me,” you breathed out, clutching the bottle tighter as he turned to face you.

He had dark hair, cut short, and a tattoo creeping up the side of his neck. Leaning back on his hands, he regarded you with mild curiosity - cigarette in his hand.

“Didn’t think anyone else would come up here,” he said simply, turning his gaze back to the view.

You sighed before settling down next to him, offering him some of the finger food you had grabbed along the way. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna judge you for running away. I do it every year.”

He chuckled, taking a pastry from your hand. “What band are you in?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m in a band?”

His expression shifted to surprise. “Not like there’s anything wrong with being in one,” you said, feeling how your face heated up.

You then took a deep breath before taking a sip from the bottle. “My father owns the record label. Which means I have to be here.”

“Ah,” was all he said.

You studied him. “That’s it? No follow-up? No sucking up because my dad might give you a better deal?”

He scoffed. “Considering you’re up here instead of schmoozing, I figured you’d had enough of that for one night.”

You exhaled a laugh. “Fair enough. So, who are you? Considering how you look, I’d guess you’re in a band.”

“What makes you think I’m in a band?” He exclaimed, mocking your earlier expression.

You smirked with him as he clearly enjoyed throwing your words back at you. “You look young, and your eyes still have that glint of hope.”

He laughed. “That’s dark.”

“And I’m not wrong.”

“I’m 27,” he said, feigning offense.

“Exactly. Younger than me.”

He shook his head, smirking. “I’m with Bad Omens. I’m their drummer.”

You tilted your head, defeated. “Damn, I really can’t outrun you guys at all.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, surprise threading through his words.

You sat up straighter. “What do I mean? You mean, besides the fact that you are my Dad’s new favorite topic to talk about when he’s not subtly bashing me for making all the wrong life choices?”

“Can’t be that bad if he still invites you to things like this.” He mumbled, making you roll your eyes.

“How encouraging of you,” you scoffed, pushing yourself up from the ground as a cold breeze drifted over the balcony.

“That’s always been my strength,” he said with a grin, stepping up beside you at the railing.

For the next few minutes, you both stared out at the city lights in silence. He radiated a calmness that made it easier to think about the things you’d been trying so hard to ignore.

“Can I be honest with you?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, hesitant to break the peaceful quiet between you.

“Of course.” He glanced at you briefly before looking back at the skyline.

You exhaled. “Sometimes, I’m disappointed in myself.” The words left your lips like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

“Why?”

“I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life, and I’m rapidly approaching forty.”

“You’re really bitter for a woman in the prime of her life,” he mused, making you shoot him an offended look. He smirked before continuing. “Maybe you should try living in the moment… Just a little.”

“That’s easy for someone your age to say.” You crossed your arms.

“Come on.” He shrugged. “Being in a band is a great example. But let’s be real - I can’t see myself drumming at seventy. Well, I can, but my back definitely won’t be on board.”

You huffed but couldn’t help relaxing a little. He had a point, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“I want to go home.” You grinned, but he just rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious. What do you want to do with your life?”

You let out a long sigh, thinking. “Honestly? I’ve always wanted to write.”

“Like novels?” He took a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stamping it out.

You nodded.

“So why don’t you?” he pressed, and the frustration bubbled up - because that was the one question you never had an answer to.

“Because I need to make a living, and a few unfinished Word documents aren’t exactly paying my rent,” you muttered, running a hand over your face.

“If J.R.R. Tolkien had said that - our tour manager would be stuck with some pretty dull fanfiction about him, since no one would’ve written about his Lord of the Rings obsession.”

You chuckled. “Wait… so you read fanfiction about your tour manager?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“You’re dodging the question,” he shot back, meeting your gaze. For a second, you held it before smirking and looking away.

“And you don’t want to admit you’ve read fanfiction about yourself and your bandmates,” you teased.

Before silence could settle between you again, he spoke up. “Alright, hear me out. Let’s get out of here. We’ll go wherever you want, do whatever you want. And - just to contradict your assumption - I appreciate creativity, but I’d rather not read fanfiction about myself.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You cried out in shock at his request.

That was when he made the statement that turned the whole evening around. “And you’re boring.”

Not even ten minutes later, the cool night air wrapped around you as you and the guy, who finally told you his name was Nick, slipped away from the grand event, leaving behind the murmur of conversations and the clinking of expensive champagne glasses. Your father’s party had felt suffocating, each forced interaction weighing you down like a stone. But out here, under the city lights, you could finally breathe.

“So,” Nick mused, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, “where to?”

You glanced at him, his dark hair slightly tousled from the wind, his expression open and waiting. For a moment, the answer eluded you. You hadn’t expected him to actually follow through on his offer to go anywhere, do anything. Most people just made empty gestures, but not him.

Then, a memory flickered in your mind. “There’s this small carnival on the edge of town,” you said. “I haven’t been there in years. And it’s open until midnight.”

Nick grinned. “A carnival? I like it. Lead the way.”

The cab ride was filled with easy conversation and laughter, the lingering tension from the party dissolving into the background. When you arrived, the sight of colorful lights spinning in the distance and the scent of cotton candy and fried food instantly lifted your spirits. It was a world away from the pristine elegance of your parents’ gathering, and you welcomed the contrast.

“Alright,” Nick said as you both stepped onto the fairgrounds, hands tucked into his pockets. “What’s first? Ferris wheel? Haunted house? Overpriced snacks?”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to deliberate. “You know, I think I’d like to see you utterly fail at one of those impossible game booths.”

His mouth fell open in mock offense. “Excuse me? You know I’m a drummer. That means, I have impeccable hand-eye coordination.”

You laughed, nudging him toward the nearest booth, where a pyramid of cans sat daringly on a wooden shelf. The game operator smirked as Nick handed over a few bills and took aim with the weighted baseball. His first attempt barely rattled the metal. The second was better, but still, they stood firm.

“You know,” you mused, watching him narrow his eyes at the stubborn cans, “it’s okay to admit defeat.”

“Never.” He rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath before throwing his final shot. To both your surprise, the cans crashed to the ground with a satisfying clatter.

Nick turned to you with a triumphant grin. “Told you.”

The game operator begrudgingly handed him a prize - a stuffed bear with comically large eyes. Without hesitation, Nick turned and placed it in your arms. “For you.”

You laughed, hugging the plush toy to your chest. “I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

“As you should be.”

For the next hour, you wandered through the fairgrounds, riding rickety coasters and attempting to best each other at whack-a-mole. The easy banter between you never faltered, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying the moment in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

Eventually, you found yourselves standing before the Ferris wheel, its towering frame outlined in twinkling lights. You hesitated for only a moment before Nick took your hand, tugging you gently toward the ride. “Come on. It’s not a real carnival experience without this.”

The ride attendant ushered you into a seat, and as the wheel began to turn, the world seemed to slow. The city sprawled out before you, a sea of golden lights stretching into the distance. The sounds of the carnival faded, leaving only the gentle creak of the wheel and the occasional burst of laughter from below.

“This is nice,” you admitted softly, hugging the stuffed bear to your chest.

Nick glanced at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as you reached the top of the wheel. The carriage rocked slightly with the breeze, and you shivered involuntarily. Without a word, Nick scooped closer, weirdly shrugged off his jacket since the carriage was rather small and draped it over your shoulders.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, touched by the gesture.

“I know,” he said simply, his voice warm. “But I wanted to.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, only to find him already watching you. His gaze was soft, steady, and there was something about the way he looked at you that made your breath hitch. You didn’t really know if you would regret this whole thing, considering you had completely different lives. On top of that he was almost ten years younger than you. You didn’t even know what you wanted. Then, his words shot into your head again. ‘Maybe you should try living in the moment.’

Before you could get lost in your doubts, you leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant - like testing the waters before diving in. But then Nick’s hand lifted to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, and you melted into him. The world around you faded, the moment stretching infinitely as his lips moved against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. Your hands searched for something to hold onto and soon grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him even closer to you, causing him to sigh into the kiss in surprise.

When the Ferris wheel began its descent, you finally pulled away, your heart was hammering against your ribs. Nick studied you for a long moment before a slow smile spread across his lips.

“That was unexpected,” he murmured, though there was no surprise in his eyes - only something warm, something hopeful.

You swallowed, suddenly shy. “Was it… okay?”

His fingers trailed lightly down your arm before settling over your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “More than okay.”

The city lights, the carnival sounds, even the crisp night air - they were all secondary to the warmth of Nick’s hand in yours, the lingering taste of the kiss still on your lips.

As you walked back toward the exit of the fairgrounds, his hand still entwined with yours, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long while, you weren’t dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. You were just here. Living in the moment. With Nick.

And it felt right.

When you reached your apartment building that wasn’t too far away from the carnival, you hesitated at the door, glancing up at him. He watched you expectantly, his expression unreadable. In any other moment you would have said your goodbyes and vanished into the comfort of your home. But not today.

“Do you…” You hesitated, then exhaled, smiling softly. “Do you want to come in?”

Nick’s lips twitched upward, and without a word, he followed you inside.

The night was far from over.

You suppressed a giggle as Nick almost instantly pressed you against your front door, his lips meeting yours in a forceful manner, causing you to drop the bear he had won for you on the floor. It’s like you forgot to breathe for a solid minute, taking the moment in before kissing him deeper. Your tongues met as you clutch onto the dress shirt he was wearing.

You felt how his hands roamed your body as if he tried to memorize every inch of you. The need for him sat deep in your stomach and begged him silently for any kind of resolve from his teasing hands. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers dancing over his hair as you slowly guide him towards your bedroom.

He let out a small yelp as he stumbled at the edge of your bed, causing you to laugh as you collide with him on the mattress. For a short second, you both caught your breath before looking in each other's eyes. The easy banter was quickly replaced with intensity in the form of his brown eyes staring at you as they darkened with desire.

You had seen this look in a couple of eyes before, but never had it felt anything like his gaze. Everything suddenly felt like it made sense to you. Like everything that happened to you needed to happen to lead you to this moment.

One of his hands slowly traveled downwards, hiking up your dress and grabbing your thigh before he turned you on your back. You instantly wrapped the leg he was gripping onto around his waist to drag him closer to you.

You felt his hot breath on your face, when he whispered. “As much as I love this dress, I bet it would look a lot better on the floor.”

“Just like your shirt.” You threw back at him with a smirk before leaning into him again, your lips meeting in another kiss as you slowly but surely slipped out of your clothes.

You sighed out in anticipation, while his hands started to travel over your body again. When his fingers latched to your pussy, drawing small circles over your panties, your thighs began to shake. “Holy shit. You’re already so wet, sweetheart.”

He added more pressure, watching as you threw your head back. “Shit, that feels good.”

“Does it?” He teased as his lips attached to your neck with wet kisses. “You like that?”

“Fuck… yes. I-...” You let out a small moan. “I need you.”

In any other scenario you would have felt weird. You couldn’t really remember when was the last time you let go of yourself, but when Nick softly giggled against your neck and pushed your panties to the side, your mind was filled with nothing but him. He was everything you saw. He didn’t wait long before slowly pushing two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck, if you already feel so good like this, I don’t even know how amazing you would feel around my cock.” He sighed in a deep voice.

For a couple of seconds he curled his fingers inside of you and you internally cursed yourself out for not getting with a drummer way earlier. But then, he suddenly removed his fingers without a warning, causing you to moan out in disappointment. But that feeling was quickly gone, when he carefully leaned on his knees and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties.

You looked each other in the eyes, as he slowly dragged the fabric down your legs. He never once broke eye-contact as he plastered small kisses on your inner thigh, slowly but surely getting to the part where you needed him the most.

Your back immediately arched when you felt his tongue on your pussy, taking slow but determined licks. “You taste so good.” He gasped, his tongue replaced by his finger for a moment, while you moaned.

After that he lifted your legs over his shoulder, while his mouth told you he knew exactly what he was doing. Before long, your legs started to shake in his grip. Your hands tangled in your sheets as he drew whine after whine from you. That was when you felt his fingers back inside of you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut while almost screaming out his name. The combo of his curled fingers and the gentle suck on your clit caused you to arch your back even more as you felt the pleasure washing over you. Without a warning you snapped, crying out his name in desperate pleas as he tried to keep your hips from moving against his face. He could drag you through hell if it meant you could be held by him for any longer.

He coaxed you through your high, kissing your pussy until you stopped to shake under his touch.

You quickly sat up, dragging his face to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue as you kissed him.

“I need to see you.” You confessed as your hands travelled to the button of his trousers, opening it - not wasting a second to slip it down his legs.

“How bad?” He tried to tease you with a lopsided grin and yelped when you took all your strength to turn the two of you - him now laying on his back.

You quickly straddled him, letting your hands roam over his torso as you placed small kisses on him - beginning at his neck, slowly making your way down to the seam of his pants. You didn’t even know who he was a day ago and you did exactly see yourself with a guy younger than you, but as you sucked and bit into his skin - marking your territory - you felt like being on top of him was the only place you belonged to.

You smiled to yourself when you felt him tense under your touch and ever so often he let out a breathy moan or bucked his hips upward. The evidence of his arousal was astonishingly clear, the bulge in his boxers clearly visible - almost begging for your attention. Nick felt like he was your one-man cult at this point.

You slowly slipped off the bed, kneeling between his legs while looking him deeply in the eyes. “I think you’re the one to explain how much you want this.” You mocked his teasing tone from just minutes before.

“Please.” He muttered under his breath - almost shaking. While you wanted nothing more than to hear him begging for it, you needed to admit that you were rather impatient yourself, so you slowly hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear - dragging it down so painfully slowly, he let out a long stuttering breath.

You carefully wrapped your hand around his member, soaking in the hiss he let out at the contact. You watched his face, observing every little reaction he had to you as you slowly placed your lips on the tip of his cock. “Oh, god-” Nick choked out.

You couldn’t help but smile at his frame. You were certain, the look he had on his face belonged in an art museum.

You placed a small kiss on the tip, licking at the drop of precum that gave the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. You hummed at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop off him.

You didn’t look away from his face as you leaned in closer and took a long lick over his shaft. “Shit - Fuck… I-... That feels-... hmmm. You’re all I need.”

Your heart swelled with pride as you finally took him into your mouth, almost too enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. His moans sounded like the most perfect melody you’ve ever heard as his right hand landed in your hair to get some kind of stabilization.

“You need to… fuck- Imma cum if you don’t stop.” He whined out and the grip on your hair became firmer.

For a second, you ignored his call out, continuing to move up and down. Only when you felt him slightly twitch in your mouth, you pulled away - his grip loosening on your hair - causing him to moan out in frustration, his hips chasing after you.

You let out a small giggle as you stood to your feet again, crawling up to him with a playful glint in your eyes. His gaze darkened with something deeper, something unreadable yet intoxicating. The space between you felt electric, each inch you closed sending a thrilling pulse through your veins.

Just as you reached him, his hands found your waist, firm yet hesitant, as if savoring the moment before taking more. With a swift motion, you were on your back again, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the heat rolling off him. Your breath hitched as he hovered over you, his weight pressing into you in a way that made your pulse race.

His smile was slow, knowing, filling you with a warmth that you weren’t sure you had ever felt before. His fingers traced a lazy path down your arm, barely touching, but setting your nerves alight with anticipation. You could feel the heat of his breath as if he was your oxygen, teasing, making you wait.

When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was achingly soft - a whisper of a kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. He pulled back just enough for you to chase after him, your lips parting with a quiet plea. That was all it took.

He groaned softly before deepening the kiss, his lips molding against yours with slow, deliberate intent. His hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The kiss turned feverish, needy, a slow-burning fire that threatened to consume you both.

Every brush of his lips, every teasing stroke of his tongue, sent sparks igniting beneath your skin. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping tight as you pulled him impossibly closer. He responded with a deep, satisfied sound, pressing into you, letting you feel the full weight of his desire.

Time blurred. The world outside of this moment ceased to exist. There was only him - his touch, his breath, the way he kissed you like he was starving for you. And as he broke away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath rough and uneven, you knew this was only the beginning.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough, edged with something unreadable. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His words, soft yet intense, settled deep in your chest, making your heart stutter.

You blinked up at him in surprise, caught off guard by the way he was looking at you - like you were something rare, something he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch but couldn’t stop himself from reaching for. The space between you felt charged, a quiet storm building, the weight of unspoken things pressing down on you both.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the shape of you. His lips hovered just above yours, close enough to drive you insane, but he didn’t kiss you again - not yet. Instead, his gaze held you in place, searching, burning, making it impossible to look away.

For a brief moment, it almost slipped your mind that you had just met him hours ago. That this intensity between you had no logic, no reason to exist - but it did. It was there, thrumming beneath your skin, threading through the air between you, pulling you deeper into something you didn’t fully understand.

“I think if you don’t fuck me in the next couple of seconds, I’ll confess my love to you.” You joked even though you weren’t entirely sure if there wasn’t a tiny amount of truth in your humorous statement.

“Your wish is my command.” He answered with a smirk on his face, before he got up, rumbling through the pocket of his pants. He quickly opened the shiny package, before rolling the condom on his member.

After that he crawled between your legs again with a smile that warmed your entire body.

“So, you just have a condom in your pants at all times?” You joked, which he responded to with a teasing “You don’t?”

You hadn’t enough time to answer him as he dragged his cock through your wet folds, causing you to moan out surprisingly loud. You quickly bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the sound as he slowly pushed inside of you.

He placed his right hand on your cheek as he bottomed out, brushing your lip. “Don’t do that, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

You choked back a whine, swallowing hard as his words seeped through you. “That… That feels good.”

Nick smiled as he wrapped an arm around you. He lifted his hips, slowly filling you before bringing it back out. His name slipped over your lips like it was a prayer.

You meet his hips as you found your pace. Your head almost instantly felt dizzy, still being worked up from your previous actions and you knew he felt the same. Heat was building in your stomach as you repeatedly moaned out in pleasure, desperately seeking your climax.

“Please tell me you’re close. I won’t be able to hold back any longer.” Nick whined out, his forehead touching yours as you slightly nodded, not being able to form comprehensible words.

“Nick.” You whimpered out as his hand travelled between you, almost instantly starting to circle your clit again.

The movements of your hips in combination with his hand sent you over the edge almost instantly. You quickly leaned up and kissed him, your moan being swallowed by his mouth as you clenched around his cock. Not even ten seconds later, you felt him twitch inside of you, each thrust harder than the last before he pulled away from your mouth with a loud moan of your name - the grip of his hands on your hips almost bruising as he came undone.

His lips brushed against yours one last time before he pulled out and let himself fall to your side, his breath still uneven, his forehead resting against neck. The air between you was thick, charged with something neither of you wanted to name but both felt down to your bones.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You just lay there, breathing each other in, letting the world around you settle into quiet stillness. The only sound was the soft rustle of the sheets beneath you, the steady rhythm of your breaths mixing together in the hush of the room.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. He was watching you, his gaze unreadable yet full of something intense, something that made your stomach tighten. His fingers traced absent patterns along your arm, a lazy, absentminded motion that sent shivers through you despite its softness.

Everything about this felt unreal. The warmth of his body beside yours, the lingering press of his lips still ghosting over your own, the weight of what had just happened settling between you like a secret neither of you were ready to break.

It almost felt foolish, how easily you had fallen into this - into him. How just hours ago, he had been a stranger, a passing moment in the grand blur of your life. And yet, here he was, lying next to you, his presence as familiar as if he had always been there.

He let out a slow, measured breath and turned onto his side, propping himself up, discarding the condom in the trash nearby before leaning on one elbow as he studied you. “What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice low, rough around the edges.

You hesitated, your fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on the sheet. What were you thinking? That this was insane? That you should be questioning it more? That you didn’t want him to leave?

Instead of answering right away, you reached out, letting your fingers trail down his arm over his tattoo, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. He didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned into it, like he craved it as much as you did.

“Stay,” you finally murmured, the word barely more than a breath. It came out quieter than you intended, but you knew he heard it by the way his expression shifted - something softer, something more certain.

His lips quivered into a slow, knowing smile, like the answer had been obvious before you even asked. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he admitted, his voice tinged with amusement, but also something else - something real.

A warmth spread through your chest, easing away whatever hesitation had been lingering there. You exhaled, turning onto your side to face him fully, your fingers still tracing his skin absentmindedly.

“Good,” you said softly, and you meant it more than you probably should.

He didn’t say anything else - he didn’t need to. Instead, he reached out, pulling you close again, letting you settle into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arm draped over your waist, his touch easy, unhurried.

As you lay there beside Nick, the quiet hum of his breathing steady against your skin, a thought crept in - the kind you usually tried to push away.

How had you ended up here?

Just days ago, you were drowning in the weight of expectations - your parents’ insistence, the suffocating parties, the career that no longer felt like yours. You had spent years following a path you once believed in, only to realize too late that it had never really been yours to begin with. And yet, for all your running, you had never truly stopped long enough to ask yourself what you actually wanted.

Until tonight.

Tonight, you hadn’t thought about the past or the future. You hadn’t worried about disappointing anyone. You hadn’t been the woman who always said yes to keep the peace.

Tonight, you had let yourself feel.

Nick stirred beside you, his arm tightening around your waist as if he could sense your thoughts pulling you away. You glanced at him, the soft glow of the night casting shadows over his features. He was so young - too young, maybe - but there was something about him, something steady and unshaken, that made you feel more yourself than you had in years.

The realization sent a quiet thrill through you, equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

This wasn’t a part of the plan. He wasn’t a part of the plan.

And maybe that was exactly what made it feel so right.

You exhaled slowly, pressing closer to his warmth, letting the weight of the moment settle over you.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t care where the night would lead.

For the first time in a long time, you weren’t looking for the wrong turn.

Maybe, just maybe, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

: ̗̀➛ dividers by @saradika-graphics

: ̗̀➛ TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 @sitkowski @exitwoundsx

#nick folio x reader #nick folio smut #nick folio fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #collapsedglasshouseswrites

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cowboyemeritus · 11 months ago

Text

Cenerentola (Frater Imperator/Reader)

Summary: Copia hosts a gala to celebrate his ascension to head of the Clergy. When things go haywire, it's up to you to keep him safe. In the process, it becomes impossible to avoid your feelings for him any longer.

Content Warning: mild violence, a singular Monty Python reference

Notes: me? writing sfw? it's more likely than you think.

i've been doing a lot of social dancing so naturally that made me think about dancing with copia. i am also a sucker anything remotely cinderella-esque lol. reader is sort of based on an oc of mine.

i don't really know how i feel about this — i had ideas for two related scenes and then had to fill in the gaps from there. sorry it's so long lmao

feedback is always welcome :)

Even amidst the sea of people below, it is impossible for you to miss him. Copia shines like the Morningstar, the candlelight glinting off the ruby brooches and bedazzled collar of his new, freshly pressed suit. All eyes are on him as he spins the delighted young Sister of Sin in his arms, leading her with grace and elegance through the steps of the fast-paced waltz. He’s changed so much in the years since you left the Ministry. Now, with his ascension to head of the Clergy, there are moments where he seems like an entirely different person, exponentially more confident and self-assured than you remember.

You know his new demeanor, however, betrays a deep-seated anxiety, the product of years of vague threats on his life from the organization he’s now expected to lead. And surely, the irony is not lost on him that the very hall in which he is now dancing sits directly above the crypts, where the bodies of his assassinated brothers lay in eternal repose.

From your position, leaning against a column up on the balcony, you have the entire ballroom in your sights. Every step, every gesture, every side conversation, is under your scrutiny. This was by design. Although Copia, by some miracle, lived to see the end of his reign as Papa, the transition of power has not been an easy one. Threats abound, the old guard of the Clergy still dissatisfied with him, many enraged by his recent promotion. His mother’s scheming was meant to protect him, but now it seems to have backfired, putting him in more danger than ever before. While this gala serves as a way for him to potentially smooth things over with the Upper Clergy, asserting himself as Frater Imperator, he is also making himself vulnerable, open to attacks of all kinds.

As a favor to his predecessor, the woman who taught you everything you know, you begrudgingly agreed to provide additional security around Ministry headquarters. At first, returning to the Abbey, its halls so hauntingly familiar, reminded you of why you left in the first place: decadence, hypocrisy, lies — a message lost in a quagmire of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll. Somehow, though, Copia and his ghouls have wormed their way into your frozen heart over these last few months. It was done before you even knew it was happening. Copia has this sort of magnetism about him, some preternatural force that makes it impossible not to be charmed. It was like this even when he was a shy, awkward cardinal. Because of this, although the Clergy wants him gone, he has the distinct advantage of a congregation that completely adores him.

The song ends, and Copia sweeps the Sister into a dip. She giggles, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek. Something in your chest pangs.

At the end of the day, you just work together. It would be foolish of you expect anything more. Still, there’s been an undeniable tension between the two of you since your return to the Ministry. You see the way he looks at you, the way he hangs on to your every word when you speak. But maybe you’re imagining it — you spend so much time around him that perhaps you’ve mistaken proximity for fondness.

You sense a familiar, fiendish presence approaching from behind. “You’re having fun,” Cirrus remarks, entering your field of vision. She has a flute of champagne in each hand and offers one to you. To maintain the illusion of normalcy you accept, taking a small sip of the bubbly, golden liquid.

“We’re on the clock,” you say, eyeing a small group of cardinals that have congregated near the refreshments table. They seem to be merely gossiping. Rain is stationed nearby, carefully observing. “No fun allowed.” The ghoul chuckles, leaning against the balcony railing on her forearms.

“I take it everything’s alright so far?” You nod, thinking back on the hours you spent painstakingly drawing sigils at various locations around the Abbey, setting up one massive alarm spell. If anything supernatural tries to get in, you’ll know. All that’s left is to be on the lookout for any natural, more human threats. You swallow down a lump in your throat, hoping your preparations will be enough.

“Try to relax, then,” Cirrus coaxes, sipping her own drink. There’s a pause. “You should go dance with him.” You feel your cheeks heat up, but keep your composure.

“I don’t have time to mess around,” you state bluntly. Your posture sags a bit. “He’s busy, anyway.” Copia is leading another Sister onto the dance floor, taking the starting position as the ghoul band strikes up another tune. You zero in on the hand resting on her hip, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. It looks like her dress doesn’t have any pockets; the probability of her concealing anything is low.

Cirrus places a clawed hand on your shoulder and gives you a playful jostle. “For you? He’ll make time.” You give her a quizzical look and she winks, straightening back up before taking her leave. “Do it!” She calls. “I’ve got good money on you two getting together!” Your mouth hangs slightly agape, watching as she descends the stairs to rejoin the party.

You take another, longer sip of your champagne, relishing in the sensation of bubbles tickling your tongue. It helps take the edge off, if only a little. You remain up on your perch for another long while. Copia eventually abandons dancing in favor of strolling through the crowd, greeting and shaking hands with various high-profile guests. It’s harder to keep track of him this way, even from your vantage point, so once your glass is empty you descend the stairs, entering the fray for yourself. To your relief, no one pays you any mind as you weave through the mass of bodies. You spot a truly nameless ghoul carrying a tray of empty glassware and flag them down, depositing your glass. You’re about to find a better place to camp out when someone taps you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, signorina strega.” You turn and sure enough, it’s Copia. He’s holding out a hand. “May I have this dance?” Multiple pairs of eyes are now focused on you. Swallowing hard, you flush, smiling nervously. It’s a little more attention than you’d like, but you reason that within arms reach of him is the best place to be right now.

It’s completely logical, not motivated by anything else.

“Of course, Frater Imperator,” you reply, bowing your head slightly. You make it a point to use his full title in front of the guests. “I would be honored.” Gingerly, you take his hand, and he leads you to the dance floor. You pick up your pace a bit so that you’re able to whisper in his ear. “I’m not very good.” Copia gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Do not worry. Just follow my lead.” As the last few bars of the current song play, Copia guides you into the starting position, placing his right hand delicately on your hip and holding the left out for you to take. You try not to think about how, even through the leather of his gloves, his hand is so warm. Having difficulty looking him in the eye, you glance over his shoulder in the brief moment of silence between songs. You see Cirrus, Rain, and Swiss gathered by the refreshments table, watching you with shit-eating grins plastered across their faces. The air ghoul flashes you a thumbs-up and you have to resist the urge to destroy her with your mind.

“Ready?” As if on cue, the band resumes playing. You recognize the song instantly: Waltz No. 2, Shostakovich. How woefully on brand. The dance begins, Copia stepping forward with his left foot while you, mirroring him, step back with the right. It’s easy enough to follow him after that, stepping to your left as he steps right, then forwards to start all over again.

“One, two, three. One, two, three. You’re a natural.” Once you find a steady rhythm, you’re able to look up from your feet and actually start to enjoy the feeling of whirling around the room.

“How are things?” He asks, clearly trying to remain nonchalant. There are so many eyes on you, and from the crowd you sense intrigue, amusement, and a significant amount of jealously.

“Fine, so far,” you reply through a smile, trying to make it as difficult as possible for people to read your lips. Copia nods.

“Bene.” A few beats pass. “Thank you for all your hard work. I appreciate you coming back after...” He looks away for a moment. “I appreciate it.” You didn’t do it for him and he knows that, but his expression of gratitude makes heat bloom in your chest nonetheless.

“I’m glad I did,” you say without thinking. “This place is different now. Good different, because of you.” Copia smiles, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling. He raises his left arm and you pass under it in a spin, feeling lighter than air.

“I had hoped you would be able to enjoy yourself tonight,” he admits, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Instead it seems you are just fretting over me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“It’s that ego of yours I’m worried about,” you tease. “Pretty soon there won’t be room for anyone else in this Ministry.” Both of you laugh at this.

“I had better check myself, then,” Copia says, running a hand through his mousy brown hair. “I would hate to see you leave again.” That catches you off guard and you nearly trip, but his hand finds your hip again, keeping you stable. By now, you’re certain he’s noticed the blush on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry. I’m not-“

Somewhere, an invisible thread snaps. It makes your stomach lurch, the color draining from your face. You pause, your playful expression melting away as you try to pinpoint the source of the disruption. The South Wing. It’s approaching fast. When you return to this plane Copia is looking at you with concern.

“I have to go,” you say quietly. He doesn’t have time to respond before you exit the dance floor, heading for the large double doors at the other end of the ballroom. It’s hard not to shove people out of the way as you duck and weave through the crowd. Dewdrop is at the entrance, minding his post, but as you approach it’s clear from the rigidity of his small body that he’s been waiting for you. He follows you wordlessly out into the hall. Kicking off your heels, the two of you take off in the direction of the intrusion. You internally curse your foolishness for talking yourself out of wearing sneakers, or even flats.

“It’s something nasty,” he says once you’re out of earshot of any guests. You can only nod in agreement, hoping the two of you are enough to deal with whatever this foul thing is.

You round the corner to the South Wing and stop dead in your tracks. The sight before you makes your blood run could. Charging towards you is a hulking creature, easily Mountain’s height but with Aether’s bulk. It’s clearly a humanoid figure, but its edges are poorly defined, a mist-like quality to them. Still, you observe shapes that resemble horns and a tail, and that tells you all you need to know: a rogue ghoul, not bound to this plane by a contract. As such, it’s less of a consolidated form and more of rampaging ball of fiendish energy. This information helps you narrow down the list of potential culprits exponentially.

There’s no time to dwell on that, though. The creature is headed straight for you, no doubt attracted to the smell of your human flesh. Before you can react, Dew puts himself between you and the ghoul, ready to engage. He’s strong in spite of his small size, but the odds of him defeating this massive a beast on his own, especially one this energized, are slim. You realize he’s buying you time to cast a spell, and immediately you formulate a plan in your head. It will take some time to accomplish, but if he can hold off this monstrosity for long enough, you should be able to successfully banish it back to the Pit without endangering him as well. Planting your feet, you take a deep breath, letting your eyes shut. There’s a whoosh of warm air as Dew charges the rogue ghoul. Energy begins to flow through you as you chant under your breath, crafting the spell. A metallic taste fills your mouth, the air crackling with static.

You’re about halfway through the incantation when the sound of a body hitting the floor breaks through your wall of concentration. The creature roars, forcing you to crack an eye open just in time to see it lunge at you. It’s covered in scratches and burns, but Dew is ultimately the one on the ground, desperately trying to pick himself back up. You’re only just able to side-step, the spell breaking as you focus all of your energy on surviving the next few seconds. You’re frantically backpedaling when it swipes at you, claws catching you in the side. You cry out as it tears through the flimsy red fabric of your dress, leaving three long gashes in its wake that begin bleeding immediately. Though profoundly painful it’s a superficial wound; if you had been stationary, there’s no doubt it would have disemboweled you.

Your back hits the wall. Dew shouts your name but you just stand there, frozen. The creature is about to pin you when a large body slams into it from the side, knocking it to the ground. You immediately recognize the form as Aether, and looking in the direction from whence he came you see Cirrus, Swiss, Rain, Mountain, Sunshine, and Phantom, all approaching with teeth and claws bared. Cirrus gets to you first, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the scuffling ghouls.

“Are you-“ She finally notices you clutching your side, blood seeping into your dress. “Oh shit, are you okay?” You nod, lifting your hand to show her it’s minor. Phantom is helping Dew to his feet. He seems alright other than a few scratches, the fall appearing to have knocked the wind out of him more than anything.

“I’m fi-” Your heart nearly stops. “Is someone watching Imperator?”

“Cumulus and Aurora are with him,” she says. “They’ve got it under control.” You let out a relieved sigh, shoulders dropping. It’s only now you that you notice how much tension you’ve been holding in your body all night. Your body trembles with excess adrenaline.

Aether lets out a frustrated growl. You barely have time to look in his direction before the rogue ghoul, having slipped out of his grasp, hurls itself out of one of the long, gothic windows lining the hallway. Bits of stained glass go flying, scattering across the marble floor tiles. The creature is smart enough to recognize it’s been outnumbered. One-by-one the members of the pack leap through the broken portal, none of them too keen on letting the intruder escape. Dew tries to follow, clearly excited about the prospect of a hunt, but Cirrus shoos him away from the window.

“Go clean yourselves up,” she orders, perched on the ledge. It’s directed mostly at you. “We’ll take it from here.” With that, she jumps down, disappearing from view as the sound of the pack whooping and howling fades into the distance.

Twenty some-odd minutes and a round of healing magick later, you and Dew are sitting out on the steps of the back patio, passing a cigarette back-and-forth. By now, the rogue ghoul has most certainly been torn to ribbons. There could still be threats lurking, but for as much as you’d like to go find Copia, you’re nowhere near presentable and would prefer not to incite panic, or suspicion, among the guests. Besides, you’re hardly capable of doing anything now, your energy completely drained by the evening’s events. You only had enough juice left to stop your cuts from bleeding; anything physically strenuous would certainly reopen the wounds. For now, you’re content to enjoy the cool autumn air, knowing he’s in capable hands.

“There you are.” Speak of the Devil. You look over your shoulder and Copia is stepping out into night, flanked by Cumulus and Aurora. Clutched in one hand are your strappy red heels, and it’s only now that you realize you’re still barefoot. Dew, with a quiet groan, rises to his feet and climbs the stairs, passing Copia as he descends.

“We’re going to go take care of this one,” Cumulus says, draping an arm over the fire ghoul’s shoulder. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but for a moment you swear she winks at you. Dew tries to shrug her off with a huff, and the girls giggle. Copia nods approvingly.

“Thank you, miei cari. We will debrief in the morning.” The three ghouls turn and step back inside, leaving you and Copia on the stairs. Your heart beats a little faster with the realization that you two are alone, although you tell yourself it’s because you won’t be able to defend him in this state. There’s definitely no other reason.

“Your glass slippers, my lady.” You roll your eyes and reach out to take your shoes from Copia, but he refuses to hand them over, kneeling on the stair below you. “Allow me, per favore.”

This might as well be happening. Lifting your foot up, you grant him permission to assist you. Copia slides the first shoe back on, holding your calf with one hand. Again, you can’t help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is.

“I’m sorry for running off,” you say, needing to break the silence. “I hope you didn’t think that-“

“Not at all. I figured that something was, eh, ‘going down.’” When he looks up he finally notices the gashes in your side. He hisses, wincing. “Ahia! That looks like it hurts.”

You wave him off. “’Tis but a scratch.” He looks like he’s going to protest, clearly upset, but instead opts to tighten the strap of your shoe before moving on to the next foot.

“What happened?” He asks, starting the process over again.

“Rogue ghoul,” you explain, looking out into the forest at the edge of the lawn. “Likely the work of Cardinal Ambrosius. He’s gotten in trouble for trying to make contracts before. Doesn’t look like he’s quite figured it out, though. I can have his head on your desk by Monday morning, if you’d like.”

Copia laughs through his nose. “You are absolutely vicious, mia strega.”

You shrug. “Just doing my job.” Once Copia finishes with your other shoe he stands, offering you his hand.

“Walk with me?”

You give him a hesitant look. “I don’t want to keep you from your guests.” He scoffs.

“I have had enough of those two-faced pricks for one night. A lifetime, even.” His expression softens. “But if you are not up for it, I-“

“No!” You shoot up, taking his hand. It startles him a little bit. “I’m good. Let’s go.” Copia smiles, the moonlight sparkling in his eyes. Like an obedient lamb, you let him lead you down the rest of the stairs and across the patio to where a walkway wraps around the side of the building. He’s taking you to the gardens, it seems. Though your legs feel like jelly, the walk isn’t very long, which you’re thankful for.

The gardens aren’t really a sight to behold this time of year, but the full moon bathes everything in a mesmerizing blue glow, giving the space a dreamlike quality. The ballroom is just up another set of stairs, the music still audible where you emerge. You stop by the fountain, a marble visage of Lilith pouring water from a bottomless goblet. The water is still running, providing a little extra ambiance.

“Care to dance?” Copia asks. “We were so tragically interrupted before.”

“I…” Damn you and your nerves. You’re blushing again. “I don’t want to get blood all over you.”

Still, he persists, shrugging. “It’s a black suit.” It’s hard to say no to that face, but the McQueen jacket? Really? He gives you a pleading look and your resolve instantly crumbles.

“Alright.” It’s all but a whisper. “But go easy on me.”

You don’t wait for the next song to start, you simply get in position and go from there. It’s slower than what you danced to before, and you two end up just swaying to the rhythm rather than following any steps. That’s fine with you, your legs are still shaking, though you can’t tell if it’s from exertion or something else entirely.

“You look beautiful,” Copia says after a few measures. In that time you two have drifted closer together, only a few inches between you now. It’s hard to look him in the eyes when your face is so embarrassingly red, so you choose to stare at the ground.

“I’m a mess.” You laugh, but there’s something bitter in it as your eyes wander to your soiled dress, torn and bloody. There was a silly, naive part of you that had been thinking of Copia when you selected it for this evening. He stops swaying, a hand finding your chin and gently lifting your head. In your opinion, he’s the beautiful one, practically glowing in the moonlight.

“Nonsense. You are the fairest of them all, cara.” You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth draw up into a slight smile.

“You’re getting your fairytales mixed up.” The two of you share a laugh before dissolving into a few moments of comfortable silence. You can tell he’s thinking about something, and he looks away, clearly nervous.

“Did you mean what you said about coming back?” The question catches you off guard for a second.

“I did,” you finally respond. “I really did. This place feels like home again.” Swallowing, you decide to take a bit of a leap. “Did you mean what you said, about me leaving?” You haven’t discussed it in a long time, but when you first took the job, the understanding was that this was only a temporary arrangement, lasting at least until Copia was able to settle into his new position. The notion pains you now. He nods.

“Yes. I-“ He chuckles. “I cannot stand the thought. Signorina strega, say that you will stay with us, with me.”

You don’t even need to think about it. “I will. Of course I will.” Copia beams, and the sight is breathtaking. There’s another pause, the air between you charged with an energy more powerful than magick. In the ballroom, the final notes of the song ring out, though you hardly notice. A bomb could go off next to you, but even that wouldn’t be enough to pull you out of this moment.

“Beautiful…” You don’t protest when he cups your flushed cheek, running his thumb across the bone. “May I kiss you?” It takes everything you have to not melt into a puddle.

“Please.”

And then his lips — Sathanas, they’re soft — are on yours. Stars explode behind your eyes as he presses into you, the hand on your hip to pulling you in closer. His body is so warm against you; it feels so right. Your heart is racing, head spinning, as the euphoria overtakes you.

He kisses you until you’re both out of breath. When he finally pulls away, you want to chase after him, to kiss him until your lips fall off, but then your knees buckle. Copia is just barely able to catch you, letting out a surprised little noise you can’t help but find adorable. He seems less concerned when he sees you’re grinning like an idiot.

“Alas, I have killed her!” You both laugh as he helps you regain your balance. “Why don’t we sit down?” Humming in agreement, he leads you over to the fountain, sitting you down on the edge. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you are alright?”

“Just peachy,” you say, gazing at your intertwined hands. “It’s been a long night.” Feeling bold and still a bit woozy, you bring Copia’s hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Ah, young love.” You both jolt, heads snapping in the direction of the voice. Before you stand the glowing specters of Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator. The old man has a wistful, nostalgic look on his face, while your former teacher observes with her arms crossed. How long have they been watching you? “Just like we once were, don’t you think?” Imperator huffs.

“I sure hope not.” Her focus falls on you. The wrath in her translucent blue yes makes your blood freeze. “You think you’re good enough for my son, girl?” For a moment, you’re completely speechless.

“I-“

“Are you two serious right now,” Copia shouts. “Get out of here! Go on! Get!” He gets up from the fountain to shoo them away. Imperator gives you a pointed look before dissolving into a blue mist. Her message is clear: this isn’t over. You gulp.

Copia groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I cannot believe those two. I finally get to have my moment with you, and then they go and spoil it!” He flops back down next to you, sighing. “I am sorry, bella. I understand if-“

“Forget about it,” you say, holding up your hand to silence him. “Just kiss me, like, forever.”

Copia happily obliges.

#my writing #the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #frater imperator x reader #i'll be working on the next chapter of il suo campione soon - just wanted a little break :)

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fountainpenguin · 10 months ago

Text

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #28

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 3 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

They locked the boy who has a darkness phobia in the deep dark pit, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

omfg, OF COURSE the first thing he does is ask for a drink... Good to know that even 8 years ago, I clocked him as growing up to be a guy who relies on the things that get Fairies drunk (sugar and carbonation) to block out his excessive trauma. oh geez, dude...

How long's he been losing his mind down here? He was fine a few episodes ago in "Growing Pains"! D: He was hanging out at his parents' place!

- Oh, I SO called Peri with magical back-up. He's having a rough go of it... Wowza, he's hallucinating about Dev. That's dark. - I really hope they don't send Foop on a bathroom break or my anxiety is going to spike through the roof. Even if Hazel did use her rule-free wish to revive them, would that be f'd up if they killed Peri and Irep off the way the Grim Reaper told Foop he'd die back in "Man's Worst Friend" or what?

I think ginger ale is good for nausea, which is why Peri's asking for it, but it's still funny because... canonically, he can get drunk if he has enough of that.

I like the rainbow sickness. This feels more correct and enjoyable than the rapid inflation and explosion of the OG series. You can tell Peri is sick and gradually expanding as his magic backs up, but I like that we get to see it, especially since it's set up as death in this universe (rather than easy to recover from in the OG).

I like seeing that Peri is VERY clearly ill and definitely not in a mental or physical place to "push through the pain and escape."

I definitely would say "This is dark," and this loops back to what I said watching "Fearless" and "28 Puddings Later" that A New Wish is definitely a tone shift from the OG. I wouldn't say it's Invader Zim dark, but I think the only episode that gave me vibes this dark was "Channel Chasers" during the scenes that were aiming for "gritty adult action with buff hero characters.

I know Poof and Foop got torn out of reality in "Timmy's Secret Wish," but that's still cute and fluffy to me... lmao.

sldkjfsdklfj, I made a joke during my "Lost in Fairy World" liveblog about how Cosmo and Wanda were going to get ants with all that candy in their room. I know Hazel is lying about ants, but I like it.

Her landlord's hair reminds me of Remy's. that's... a unique style.

/glances tiredly and uneasily at my list of Remy's many runaway uncles who scampered off since they weren't their parents' heir and are still pretty messed up...

I enjoy Wanda comforting her dying son while Cosmo's taking it hard off to the side. Cosmo wanting a moment to himself feels right.

Peri and Irep must not be synced up, presumably because Irep is using magic to grant wishes. Or Anti-Fairies don't get back-up.

There he is~ Anti-Cosmo "literally only here because I was told I might score a godkid" Anti-Cosma. I hate him! (affectionate).

Anti-Wanda looks like she would bite me and I would let her.

Something is so very wrong with Dev "Instead of wishing my lactose intolerance went away, I'm going to delete lactose from the universe" Dimmadome.

I enjoy Irep constantly bouncing or lightly kicking his feet as he waits for Dev to give him new wishes. He definitely gets that from his dad.

Absolutely on the floor that I clocked Anti-Cosmo as hanging back while Irep runs the show with Dev. They've literally not changed and I'm so happy!!!!

I spent over a year worried they were going to reboot A.C. into some take-charge, full-steam-ahead takeover villain, and you're telling me the local confrontation-avoider is still avoiding conflict??

Take me out now; it's never getting better than this. (The sequel.) I'm gonna be riding this high for months.

I was expecting to see Tibecuador on that map, but they cleverly have the Americas on the other side of the globe. I assume that disappeared when Timmy aged out of Fairies, though we know it wasn't unwished after Season 5 (It gets a mention in Season 6).

I like that both Dev and Irep enjoy dancing to "So proud of my son" lyrics. They're vibin'. Irep has daddy issues too.

sdlkfjsd, when Jorgen undid Dev's "king of America" wish a few episodes ago, he didn't erase anyone's minds?? I like that the news refers to Dev as "former king of America."

??? Did Dev and Trev break their friendship after Episode 1 because they both like Bev? That's hilarious!

The news report specifically says "couples are breaking up" due to Anti-Fairy influence, without implying that Anti-Fairies caused these two to get together in the first place. WERE they together? That's silly.

I am once again disappointed we were robbed of the Trev-Dev-Bev friend squad. But this is funny too.

Another waning crescent.

I'mma be honest, but Hazel saying she's had her fairies for about a year just makes me even more confused as to why we're doing a "get a rule-free wish after 1 million" instead of the previously established "get a rule-free wish after 1 year."

I... am gonna un-canonize her 1 million wishes in 'fic unless this ends up being incredibly important. Sorry to keep bringing it up, but I just can't wrap my head around this. "Timmy's Secret Wish" was kind of a big deal. It was a movie and not just a one-off episode, and it's been referenced several times in A New Wish already. Timmy took so much flak for being allegedly wasteful, dangerous, or overly reliant on his wishes. He did make some wild ones, but I'm SO curious to know what Hazel wished for. I wish we'd see flashbacks like we did in that movie, but again... recognizing the limits of a 20-minute episode.

I'm so glad Jasmine told Hazel she wasn't shocked by the reveal that Hazel had fairy godparents, seeing as in Post #10, I said she'd expressed suspicions towards Hazel twice but it didn't seem to be going anywhere and I was disappointed. That's a good callback.

Winn: Your apartment was a hotel and then it wasn't.

That's the other thing I was wondering about! Thanks, Winn. You're my favorite.

It drives me wild that Antony's not going to talk to Hazel about whether she has issues because he doesn't have the context to know fairies get assigned to miserable children. I feel like he'd really want to hear about that.

Antony knows Cosmo and Wanda? Maybe they DID have dinner together. I hope he met Peri. I think they'd be friends. I'll have to look back and see if he was introduced to them by name in "Rattleconda Racers," but... I don't think I noticed he'd clocked them as her neighbors.

They probably crossed paths offscreen while he was home for the holidays. I haven't settled on a timeline yet, but he could've been home for a whole month for winter, so it's likely they've met and he saw Hazel interact with them.

There is something so funny about Winn saying they sussed Cosmo and Wanda out as fairies because of their pink and green hair when they look like this:

I enjoy Hazel being familiar enough with Dev, Cosmo, and Wanda to know their clothes by heart, but she blanked on Irep-

- implication being that she remembered his giant square head and not much else. Not even wings.

Hazel 🤝 Chloe Remembering Foop's hair, mustache, and crown, but forgetting he wears clothes

I'm surprised Hazel's friends are ready to go to war against an entire race of evil magical beings famed for bad luck and torture, and they don't have any questions about this? I feel like one of them would want to talk to their parents. Jasmine said she was a fraidy-cat early on, but I guess facing her fears in "Fearless" turned that around more than I expected.

Oh no, Jorgen's in a pit.

??? If we're in Jorgen's office, where was Peri held before the takeover?

I like how Anti-Cosmo clicks his heels.

New shirt design for Anti-Wanda?? That was on my reboot bucket list! I had my fingers crossed for a fancy dress, sweater, or jacket, but I'll take it! This is clever because it's close to her old design.

... I don't look forward to drawing it :'D

I am OBSESSED with their energy. Anti-Cosmo is so fancy and Anti-Wanda looks like she showed up in pajamas or party clothes. And he loves her so much. That's always been their thing, but it's good to get a reminder since he spends so much of their 1-on-1 time in the OG series screaming and running around. I missed him... It's been 11 years...

... Actually, that makes this my first time ever seeing new (canon) Anti-Cosmo content drop since he was outtie by the time I got to the fandom (back in 2016 when Season 10 was just starting). Exciting!

I actually have an AU called "King Me" that I started in 2016 but have never posted anything for, but it's about Anti-Wanda being raised from birth as the leader of the Anti-Fairies and getting betrothed to some nerd, and seeing them new and shiny and dressed like this makes me want to finish it, because I love Anti-Wanda being in charge when she's so casual and silly. It's one of my favorites <3

omg, it's an anti-Fairy shirt... OH, this makes the fact I portray Anti-Wanda as giggly over puns and wordplay even better...

Anti-Wanda shopping, pointing at the crossed-out crown: It's me.

I like how while Anti-Cosmo is bragging that Anti-Fairies are masters of torture who know all their counterparts' weaknesses, Cosmo looks like this:

Anti-Cosmo: I'm a master of torture... I know your biggest weakness~ Cosmo: I don't believe you for a second, but go off I guess

Irep knew exactly what he was doing when he sent Peri to the dark pit... u can't make me believe it was an accident he was hyperventilating and rocking back and forth with crossed eyes when Cosmo and Wanda got to him...

Wheezing at the fact that I'm pretty sure neither A.C. nor Anti-Wanda has been addressed by name because the writers gave us Irep and Lezah... They can't drop the anti-names on us and don't want to call them Omsoc and Adnaw.

I DID wonder where that set-up was going, but I think their names not being not acknowledged at all is the funniest direction.

Like?? POV, New Wish is your only exposure to Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda, but you don't engage with the fandom so you sus out for yourself what their backwards names would be and that's how you grow up thinking of them.

I personally have Anti-Fairy kids using names picked by their parents and they only switch to using their anti-names when they become adults, so... if we were to assume Irep is just slightly too young to use the name Anti-Peri, that headcanon would still track in New Wish for him and Lezah. Which is interesting.

..... If Peri is short for Periwinkle, is Irep's full name Elkniwirep, because ouch. I understand where he was coming from when he complained his new name was "much more difficult to pronounce" than Foop.

I like the implication that Anti-Fairy nicknames would come from the end of their names rather than the beginning. Though looking at that name, I think Noir would also be an appropriate nickname for him.

Irep when he has to sign for a package for his parents: Eh, you can come back next week.

Anti-Cosmo's clothes are spot-on. It's him!! ... Except for his monocle being on the wrong side. I personally made him blind in one eye in 'fics, but I'm pretty sure a real monocle can be used on either eye.

It's kind of funny to me they did that. It must be easier to model this way, but the OG series never depicted him switching to the other eye even when he turned his head. Kind of interesting in an "I wonder if modern fanart will portray it interchangeably or if the right eye is deemed consistent" kind of way.

!!!! They kept his big ol' giant fangs!!! Irep definitely gets most of his personality from his mom, but he's got Dad's fangs <3

This makes me want to practice drawing him more. A.C. is the hardest for me to draw (between his clothes, hat, hair, and having bat-like ears in Cloudlands AU), but I really like his cravat here and would like to take another whack at him, I think.

skldjf, I'm glad Anti-Cosmo is still Mr. "super weird about needing to hold things in his left hand." Nobody cares, but I care

In the OG show, he threw his wand off-screen so he could switch his teacup to his left hand after picking it up... He does this in multiple episodes, shifting things to his left for no reason even if he picks them up in his right. I'm sure it means nothing, but... why did they draw him doing that? He keeps his wineglass on his left despite Anti-Wanda being depicted with hers on her right... Sometimes he'll even stand next to other characters and hold an item in his left even though his neighbor is holding the same item in their right. why.

?? Anti-Cosmo had to look up "discombobulated" in the dictionary? Wouldn't the taunting have been stronger to prove he doesn't have to look it up?

I like Anti-Cosmo bracing his legs beneath the dictionary the same way Peri did when he was looking at Da Rules.

Heavy book; need better weight distribution or it's killer on the back.

sdfkljsd... oh, poor Cosmo... Listen..... LISTEN........ I know there's no way in heck they would bring back the "77 Secrets of the Fairly OddParents (Revealed)" lore that Cosmo's deepest secret is that he's an "author of distinction" who's written oodles of books, including Astrophysics for Morons from the episode "Shelf Life," but...

This is SO MEAN... I have a 'fic ("Repeat") where we learn Cosmo's been erasing his own memories for ages because people wanted him in jail or worse for writing about astrophysics when Fairy culture pushes the idea that stars are ancient Fairies (à la "Wishology") and this is how he's protecting himself. My interpretation of him is that he gets upset sometimes because "He used to know what these words mean," like... that is an actual scene I've written, and I'm dying...

Corporate needs you to find the difference between these scenes... lmao.

"We knew it wouldn't be easy, not following the old beliefs… but we're on enough thin ice with the Fairy Council as it is. Let's… not tip the scales by making wild claims about the stars. But if it's any consolation… You can tell me about astrophysics any time of week." "Mm…" He didn't even know what 'consolation' meant. He did once, though… Didn't he? When he read his old diaries, they made no sense because he used to know so many words. His handwriting. His memories. But not all the words made sense anymore. Robin Cosma would be so disappointed in his son. How funny that your father can be a poet known across the cloudlands… and you can't remember how to spell "tinnitus."

Anti-Cosmo, you are being SO mean in my lore right now... Thanks, I hate it. But I like that physical torture wasn't the option they went for. This feels very right to me (Mental torments, preying on fears and paranoia instead of just attacking... This feels right for their species since they're supposed to be dark and creepy).

-> I mean, I don't know what I expected from Anti-Cosmo "avoids confrontation if he might get hurt" Anti-Cosma, but... lol.

SKLDFJSLDFJSLDFJ??

Anti-Wanda: /shoves A.C. out of the way and takes his book Anti-Cosmo: :(

If Anti-Cosmo has to confront anyone while he's in slapping range, he will die, actually. Wait, what did I write at the start of this liveblog?

OG series Anti-Cosmo doesn't even want to take over Fairy World; he wants a godkid. His shtick is "I will literally do anything for a godkid even if it's stupid and I make a fool of myself." And then he makes a fool of himself; it's great. [...] Taking over means confronting magical people, and Anti-Cosmo doesn't, like... do that. He taunts people IF he holds a blatant advantage (like them being locked up or them being a human who can't jump and grab him), but he's also a huge coward <3 He's Mr. Buddy System. He needs his Anti-Fairies. So... He might be here, yeah! But I do get major Irep vibes. Irep's totally leading, and I don't see Anti-Cosmo's aesthetic here, so I think he's playing a small supporting role if he's here at all. [...] He DOES have smug energy and cool lines sometimes… but he's also a tantrum-throwing brat who's scared to stand up to people, and in this house, we love him for it!! [...] I just want Anti-Cosmo to be an awkward nerd pretending to be confident, but also he likes to run around and goof off, but he should also look at people like he's confused they kicked his puppy.

sdlkfjsfdjkl??? oh my fluffin' gee. This is beat for beat "Anti-Cosmo taunting people when he's trapped them under a butterfly net in "Fairly Odd Baby" and then backing the heck down as soon as H.P. tells him "Yeah, we're not doing that." ... This is the same energy as Jorgen's slideshow when he specifically labels H.P., not Anti-Cosmo, the more influential parent of the anti-fairy child they raised to be evil way back when... He's the same person... He's such a sheep <3

I was so worried they'd change you, my doormat nephew, and for WHAT?!! Go king; give us nothing!!!

They didn't give him oodles of sass? That's what I thought for SURE they'd reboot him with. I'm losing it. He really is "just there doing his best" without being the main villain. He's minimally helpful. Basically not at all. I can finally embrace him without a hint of hesitation... My windblown tissue of a boy has come home!!

This is the best! spitting, crying. I cannot believe this. I can finally stop second-guessing if I even read him right in the OG series. He's so cringefail loserboy and always has been and I can finally stop lying low about it! I LOVE HIM!!

I genuinely could not fathom a world where they brought him back and he was still just Like That... How ?? did they do this?? I was so SURE they'd put him in charge and only present his "smug, confident" façade and I'd just shrug it off and try to squint for the parts of him I enjoy the most… omfg… Our anxious, dorky coward actually made the jump?

He's like Anatole Kuragin... Anti-Cosmo would be flawless in the role of "Okay, sing these two songs like you're the sexiest and most confident man alive. And for this other song, cower on the floor wailing about how you're a man of honor and the old man calling you a scoundrel should take it back because it hurts your feelings. You just tried to kidnap the girl you like, but got spooked and ran away. btw, you're everyone's most specialist boy in the world."

The Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 AU nobody asked for but we know we deserve:

btw, after years of waiting, I had the opportunity to see this musical (<3) and words cannot express how I felt when - after listening to the soundtrack and always wondering why Anatole backs off so fast when Marya shoos him from the courtyard - I got to experience the shock of Marya bursting onstage with a gun.

I am in such shock that I read Anti-Cosmo right. Like ?? I don't know why that's bizarre to me- I've taken so many notes on him and I was very confident in what I thought about him. I just ?? can't believe he's still set up to be a soggy dishrag?

No one ??? ever portrays him like this ?? We don't do that here! That's not on his Fandom Wiki page, which calls him a "ruthless criminal mastermind" and "far more devious than most other villains in the show." People don't remember him like this... I'm dreaming...

I gotta lie down. What the FLIP do they have written for him in the story bible, if anything?

-> I gotta read the OG series story bible @zachbrightside sent me. I've been putting it off 'til after New Wish, but maybe I'll liveblog my reactions to that too.

-> Fun fact, I collect story bibles due to my days of combing Scribd for early scripts... But the OG series story bible for FOP is one I never thought I'd see in my LIFE. I'm excited.

Okay, I totally got impatient and took a sneak peak at the New Wish story bible for fun (something I glimpsed super briefly about a year and a half ago and then put away because I wanted to wait and see the show for myself, so I didn't see more than a glimpse of Hazel, Winn, and Whispers Fred, but I don't want to look at the OG series bible until I'm properly liveblogging). AND!!!!

Guess who didn't misremember the rumor about the Pixies coming back! I'll talk about that more in a separate liveblog, I'm sure, but oh gosh; oh goodness...

They didn't reboot Anti-Cosmo with sass AND they have a note here about the Pixies "potentially aligning their interests with tech magnate Dale Dimmadome..." Do you understand how close that gets us to H.P. coming back as his sassy, in-charge self... My most beloved character in the series, still snarky... I want him so much... I can taste it... He's one chump door away...

I won't get my hopes up since Season 2 isn't confirmed, but do u understand... Yes I know they might kill him and replace him with Sanderson and it'd shatter me, but do u understand how close we are to the funky guy who's haunted my mind every day for the last nearly 9 years...

Dale, I have GREAT NEWS for you... The prophecy... H.P. and Dale together... My 7-year dream fulfilled at last...

what are Ben Stein's rates and can we get him for another movie. I think Pixies & Dale would be the thing that does me in; it's never getting better than that... Can you even IMAGINE if we had Musical 2.0. for some inexplicable reason...... My favorite episode, oh goodness... Just let H.P. dunk on Anti-Cosmo again and I'm done; I'm out. retired. deceased.

It's SO over for y'all if they do bring back the Pixies. Unfollow me then because it's all I'll talk about for the rest of my life.

Hey wait a sec- I'VE BEEN ROBBED!!!! They WERE supposed to be here! Dale WAS supposed to be the finale antagonist!

?? I was RIGHT in my initial assumption that Dale had been set up for this plot. I'm totally justified for going into this finale thinking we were gonna fight Dale. That's... way funny, because I have a whole note over here I was gonna address when I'm done watching about how I don't feel like Dale stalking Hazel and all those notes about Fairy World left on his board even went anywhere...

Did they drop the "Dale stalking Hazel" plot point & this Pixie route because they figured Anti-Fairies would bait viewers in and Pixies wouldn't? So, like... did we only have that scene to upset Dev, and now we're not following through with the implications? :'D I am dev-astated on both accounts...

I probably would've done the same thing in their position (Write the finale for Anti-Fairies instead) because the Pixies aren't as well known (I think) and don't have the same opposite vibe as counterparts (which makes for dramatic storytelling), and maybe increased excited viewers increases chance of Season 2, but...

I've been robbed blind!! D: OH, this hurts so much more than when it was "just a rumor" to me that the Pixies were meant to appear "in the latter half of the season." skdljf, I shouldn't have looked at this; what've I done... PLEASE give us a Season 2 with Pixies in it... I'm beggin'... I've seen behind the curtain and I cannot be reborn in my innocence.

- Extremely funny to me that the Pixies not showing up implies they're not making a move because it hasn't been 37 years since their last big takeover plan. It's the OCD... - HEY WAIT A MINUTE, back at the start, I told y'all taking over Fairy World wasn't Anti-Cosmo's thing and it was actually H.P.'s... oh, this is FUNNY... I wish I had someone I could rub this in the face of. Oh my feathers, I'm SO glad I know H.P. and Anti-Cosmo well enough that I nailed them both like butterflies on display and didn't make a fool of myself [in my mind], sldkfj... #Not a fake fan... You don't spend 8 years writing 1 million words worth of 'fics about each of them without knowing your boys!!! I'm sorry, I just... This has been extremely funny to liveblog. I didn't peek ahead... I didn't know for sure if Anti-Cosmo was gonna be here to take over Fairy World - I really thought they'd reboot him to be confident and suave because why would they read him as an anxious coward?? nobody does that - but I sure as heck knew an Anti-Cosmo based closely on the OG wouldn't be leading the charge! He's a pushover <3 And the fact the Pixies were supposed to be here is KILLING me. Of course it was a plot meant for Pixies... because Anti-Cosmo doesn't do this and H.P. does. That's SO funny... I can't believe this... I'm dying, squirtle... I can't breathe... Please let me infodump about how despite everything I've said about H.P. going against the Pixie stereotype, he is actually implied to have OCD, and by his own admittance seems to want to take over Fairy World because Fairy World's disorder just drives him up a wall... I miss him... I lied about loving Anti-Cosmo; please come back, beloved... Please send him on a time travel vacation so he can come back feeling like he waited his obsessive 37 years... oh my glory, he's within my grasp... It's been 16 years... - The file name on this thing is "FOP Reboot Series Bible Draft 7..." oh, my boys lived up to 7 drafts... oh, my babies...

Oh my GOSH, they pitched an episode where Hazel's parents come over for dinner game night and Cosmo and Wanda are struggling to appear normal... That's the exact kind of episode I was sad we hadn't had yet back when I was saying post-Episode 1 Cosmo and Wanda were giving me sexy lamp vibes! I'm sad we didn't get this one.

Okay... I've seen too much. I won't read anything else in here and I'll save it for a future arc of liveblogging all these resources. Oh, this stings. The finale's cool and all, but I just miss my boys so much, and I want them to come back as their glorious, snarky, finger-gunning, drunk-on-the-job selves so a new generation can fall in love with them like I have, and they are SO CLOSE...... D: Nobody knows the trouble I've seen... nobody knows my

Ooh, what?

Big Daddy!? Mark Chang? Mama Cosma? Juandissimo?? omg-

IRVING?? They found you too?

No one is safe...

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