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#sigh. me every day: I'm gonna step away from this nonsense for real now
bougiebutchbinch · 11 months
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This is your daily reminder that anyone can criticise your favourite show. And disabled people, queer people, mentally ill people, and people from any other minority group are always allowed to criticise representation within your favourite show.
Obviously, a few people from the same minority group will disagree with this criticism. Everyone's gonna have a different opinion - that's great.
But that does not in any way invalidate the original criticism, especially when it's coming from so many people with visible mobility disabilities, survivors of suicide and abuse, and queer people.
That doesn't mean critics think the show is evil and should be destroyed forever. It doesn't mean they think that the show isn't good representation for you, with your specific intersection of representation needs, or that you can't enjoy it - or that you are a bad person for enjoying it.
Critics are allowed to stop supporting the show for future seasons because they dislike the representation, or the writing, or for any other reason. If you are sending anons over something so minimal as someone no longer wanting another season of your favourite show, then, frankly, I suspect you are a literal child. But also, you have a weird cultish relationship with this fandom and should probably step back.
Hell, I'm gonna try and step back, for the sake of my own mental health. I always wind up getting at least one weird anon per fandom, as I am Loud And AnnoyingTM - to the point where I see it as a bit of a badge of pride. Means I'm part of the fandom now, if I'm in deep enough - and noisy enough - to get nonsense. That doesn't particularly bother me.
But I cannot deal with the constant frustration of seeing fellow fans not understanding the very basic concept of 'a stranger on the internet can love this show, but still be disappointed in it and criticise it, and that is not an attack on me, personally'.
I encourage you to love the show! I love that you love it! I still somewhat love it, and I certainly love to criticise it! Criticism is just another form of interaction with a piece of media, and one that is integral to any fandom! It's not a threat to you or your appreciation of the show!
What becomes problematic is when you mock criticism, especially when it's coming from a whole bunch of marginalised voices.
Why are you being so aggressive about decrying everyone who complains as 'overemotional' and 'hysterical'? Why are you trying so hard to minimise and misinterpret the opinions of visibly physically disabled people who have struggled a lot with their disability, when invisible disability rep and casual positive disability rep are no less important but entirely different sorts of representation?
If you disagree, maybe just have some empathy and let marginalised people speak? Why are you so determined to die on the hill of defending a TV show from any and all criticism?
Which is all to say:
Your fandom is not exempt from criticism. Yes, you are still allowed to love your blorbos and your show. This is pretty fucking basic Fandom 101.
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Serva me, Servabo te
save me and I will save you
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pairing: photographer!Taehyung x f.reader (oc)
more characters: Jimin x Yoonji
genre: angst, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut
word count: 4.6k   |  reading time: 25 min
summary: Somehow you end up having to share a Victorian Manor (that may or may not be haunted) with a person you really dislike: Kim Taehyung
warnings: nothing specific in this chapter, some swearing and toxic traits
A/N: Amy= Army= reader:)
All chapters | Masterlist   |  Read on AO3
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Chapter 1: The tragic state of affairs
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An hour and a half long car drive and you still managed to be in the middle of nowhere. You could almost swear the dirt road was leading to nothing, but the occasional sign swore otherwise. You sighed. How had you gotten yourself into this, again? Oh, yeah.
-9:34 pm, the day before-
A loud thud followed by an inhuman growl produced from the deepest pits of hell reached your ears in the kitchen. I guess you couldn't ignore her any longer. You leaned past the door,  peeping at your roommate cocooning on the floor.
"Uh... You good?" She immediately started mumbling with fiery passion and you couldn't understand a single word. That meant no. "What did Jimin do this time?"
Yoonji sat up, turning her spine abnormally to look at you. "He's an idiot," you managed to hear.
You pressed your lips together and nodded. "Right. You guys broke up. Is he still bothering you, what is it?" You walked to her and squatted down to her level. You noticed her cheeks were bloody red and stained with tears, her mouth giving you a pout. But you were unbothered.
"He won't let me go tomorrow," she complained.
"The Manor you guys had booked?"
"Yeah!"
"Why won't he let you go?"
"No, I mean... He says I can go but he says he'll go too and I don't want to see him," Yoonji mumbled while wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
Your immediate thought was to tell her to just go since they were going to make up eventually anyway. Seriously, the two of them broke up and got back together like twice a week. Sometimes it looked more serious, sure, but you had fallen for it too many times to believe it now. You would only be sure the two of them were done for real when... Well, actually, never. "So, you don't want to lose your vacation but you want to have the whole house to yourself?" you asked and she nodded. "Well, since you both paid for this, I'm sorry to tell you, but he has just as much right to go as you. You should have thought about that before you broke up over- what was it again? Dumplings?" I mean, this had to be some type of kink or something at this point. They had to be into breaking up and chasing each other all the time. Maybe it was the make-up sex, who knows.
Finally, one of the road signs pointed to the right for a turn. 200 m it said. You breathed out in relief; you were starving and so sleep deprived, you feared you'd drive your car into a ditch by the road. In front of you stood a large gate with an astounding metal design. It was open and you carefully drove in. Your breath hitched the moment the house came into view. What house? That was a whole palace! With three floors, a garden bigger than the nearest park to your apartment, and about a million windows adorning its two wings. So caught up in the drama, you hadn't even had the chance to see a picture to prepare yourself for the beauty of the Victorian artifact. Your jaw on the floor, all you could do was laugh.
Say, how had you managed to get here again? Right, right...
-11:04 pm, the day before-
There was a soft knock on your bedroom door and you hummed in reply. Yoonji burst in with great contrast to her knocking, dashing for the foot of your bed and plopping herself on it with nerve. You paused your texting on your phone momentarily to turn your eyes on hers, noting her tears were all dried up now, a frown in their place.
"I told him I'm not going 'cause I don't wanna see his stupid face," she announced.
The corners of your mouth turned downwards. "Good for you. I'm sure the house isn't worth it, you can do your vacation elsewhere."
"But now he says he's not going..."
You thought about it for a second, then got back to your texting. "Great. Isn't that what you wanted? Now, you can go."
The girl leaned over your legs, trying to catch your attention again with wide eyes full of conspiracies. "But... What if he's bluffing?"
You paused again. Damnit, why was this even making sense? You'd say Jimin is not capable of doing something like that... if you actually thought it to be true. "So, don't go." You looked at her again to make sure your point was getting across. "Yoonji, don't go. That way no matter if he goes or not, you still won't see his stupid face."
A middle-aged woman dressed to fit right into the aesthetic of the Manor greeted you on the big steps of the entrance with something like the enthusiasm you only show your favorite aunt on Christmas. "You must be Ms. Min Yoonji," she called before you even had the chance to reach her.
"Must I?" you replied, immediately following it with a peal of fake laughter.
The woman chuckled and walked towards you. With a closer look, you noticed how youthful her face looked, and how undeniably pretty she was. Definitely looking like a noblewoman who would be in charge of something like this mansion. "Welcome, I'm Mrs. Kim. I'm glad you're here, your partner is already inside," she said.
Oh... So he was bluffing.
You smiled. "Thank you. The place looks stunning."
"Oh, I'm hoping you'll get to enjoy all of its beauty to the maximum this week you'll be spending here," the woman said as she guided you towards the entrance." Just to let you know, every room is at your disposal, the kitchen is fully equipped and with every kind of food you might crave. Housekeeping is daily and with a very discreet staff. I have already given a tour to your partner."
You pushed the heavy door open and walked in, immediately hugged by a heavy but warm atmosphere with a strong, musky scent. Right across from you, there was a big, double staircase with a magnificent chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. All you could do was look around with a stupid face. Jimin was getting Yoonji this type of vacation and she had the audacity to fight with him? How had they even afforded this? You totally understood why your roommate was throwing a tantrum wanting to come here. Why had she even let you come instead?
-12:56 am, the day before, or more accurately, this day but super early-
"Amy... Amy..." You were startled awake, barely making out the silhouette of Yoonji hovering above you in the darkness. "Were you sleeping?" she whispered.
You exhaled and pushed her away, groaning. "Yoonji, a piece of advice: if you have to shake someone for them to answer you, yeah, they were sleeping!"
"Sorry," she said but definitely didn't mean it. She scooted you over to sit next to you. "Hey, so... I was thinking. Maybe you should go."
Be it the sleep or your roommate speaking utter nonsense, all you could think was: "What?"
"Well, I don't wanna go in case Jimin goes, but I also don't wanna let him have the house to himself -you know, out of spite- so maybe you should go." Yoonji blinked at you expectingly but it was still too complicated for you to process. "I mean, you're gonna have a good time, Amy. The house is amazing, I promise, this is a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, okay? I thought if I let you go then we could also be even for the time you did that assignment for me and got me an A? What do you say?"
You frowned, starting to shake your head. "Yoonji-"
"Please, I just want you to annoy him by just being there, you know? Also, he might not even go. Then you'll have a whole Manor to yourself for a whole week! You can take your books with you and enjoy some time away from society, right? Pretty please..."
Your frown deepened, but you started to think about what she was saying. "You really would rather just give up your vacation to a Victorian Mansion or whatever it is to your roommate than let Jimin have it to himself?"
"Absolutely, yeah."
Well, you couldn't think of a reason to say no to that.
Mrs. Kim finished her welcoming speech with a smile. "In the library, you will find a map of the hiking routes of the forest. There is a mushroom picking one that I wholeheartedly recommend. Of course, anything you might need, you can always pick up our vintage phone -it works perfectly- and call us any time of the day and night."
You gave her a genuine grin and nodded. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Kim!" And after that, the beautiful woman opened the door and left. Where to, you had no idea, since you doubted there was any kind of civilization nearby.
You dragged your suitcase to the bottom of the staircase, about to lift it and go find one of the surely many rooms to occupy. But in the silence of it all, you noticed a fire cracking in the background. So silent, it felt like you and the fire were the only things alive for miles. Yet Jimin must have been roaming somewhere in this Manor.
Huh... He still hadn't shown up at the entrance to check if Yoonji had come? Surely, he must have heard the commotion made but you two ladies.
You released your grip on your suitcase and slowly walked towards the room the fire seemed to be coming from. You wanted to find him and enjoy his face when he would see you instead of his girl- well, ex-girlfriend. You passed through a small hallway, little rooms with cabinets and bookcases until you reached a slightly ampler room that had a lit fireplace. It looked like a sitting room, with a pair of scarlet, velvet armchairs and a matching sofa. There was a large, thick carpet that covered almost the entire floor, and an ebony coffee table in the middle. On the right, a window that expanded from floor to ceiling, but was however half-hidden behind a rich curtain.
You were about to go towards the fireplace before you noticed the slim man standing tall by that window. Looking outside, turned opposite to the entrance. You almost didn't notice him as the colors and textile of his outfit matched the room so well. His brown, a little wavy hair tucked messily behind his ears, light silver glasses sitting low on his nose, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a sweater vest over a beige shirt and baggy trousers and was standing like a model. Something very off about him that you didn't immediately recognize.
"Oh." The interjection left your lips without your command. And at the sound of your voice, he turned around to face you.
-10:46 am, this morning-
You had left your apartment more than a long time ago, Yoonji was expecting that you would have arrived by now and waiting for your news. Had Jimin gone too? How had he reacted? She tried calling you a couple of times but was only met with voicemail. Maybe you didn't have a good signal up in the mountains. Oh, no, how would you keep her up to date now?
Her cellphone buzzed and she rushed to see the message she assumed was from her roommate. It turned out to be her ex.
"You didn't go, then?"
Yoonji laughed. How wicked of her. He must have just seen you arrive at the Manor, instead of her. So he was lying about not going, just as Yoonji had predicted. She flipped her hair from her shoulder dramatically and quickly typed her reply.
"Of course not, I told you I wasn't going."
She couldn't stop giggling like a little girl.
"Cool... Just so you know, I felt bad wasting this already paid vacation, so..."
Yoonji rolled her eyes, still giggling.
"Let me guess. You went by yourself?" How pathetic... He really thought his little trick would work.
"No."
Wait, what?
"I myself didn't go..."
Yoonji blinked.
Come again?
Your eyes widened when you realized the man in front of you wasn't Jimin. The man in front of you was...
"Kim Taehyung? What are you doing here?"
He was about to open his mouth to reply when your phone interrupted you. Without taking your eyes off the man and with a deep frown on both of your faces, you took it out of your pocket and answered. Yoonji's voice started ringing immediately from the other end.
"Amy! Finally! I've been trying to call you for ages. Did you arrive yet? I wanted to tell you Jimin isn't coming. He said he let Tae go." You rolled your eyes. "Can you hear me, Amy? The signal is so bad... Amy, the idiot did the same thing I did and sent Taehyung! Remember Taehyung? Jimin's best friend?"
You sighed. "Yeah... Way ahead of you. He's standing right in front of me." Your eyes traveled down his arms as he moved to fold them over his chest, tilting his head at you.
Yoonji let out an exasperated cry. "Ugh, man! So he told the truth... Look, I'm so sorry I got you into this. Amy, can you hear me? I hope you have no problem with him there. I know you guys are not close- wait, have you guys met? You have, right? Okay, I know you're not close but it'll be fine, right? Just don't pay attention to him and do your thing, yeah darling? Act the same as if Jimin were there, or as if you were alone. Amy, that's fine, right? You can do that, right? How is the house, is it awesome and totally worth it and you're totally not mad at me for sending you there with Tae? Huh? Amy?"
You sighed again. The signal was indeed bad. So you just hung up, hoping your roommate would blame your rudeness on that. Hiding your phone away again, you eyed Taehyung from head to toe. He was still glaring at you as if you'd stolen something from him. Well, I guess if he thought he'd have this whole place to himself, it was kind of like stealing. But that was only because he just happened to arrive first. Both of you had the same claim over the place. Or, well, neither of you did.
"Right, so..." you started since he didn't seem to be reacting any further. "I guess we'll have to stay together."
Suddenly, Taehyung started moving. His eyes still piercing yours and not a word out of his mouth, just a steady charge towards you.
"I-I know you didn't expect me-" you felt the need to mumble quickly, "-but I didn't expect you either!" Taehyung stayed silent, getting closer. "Okay, maybe we lied!" you exclaimed, your feet stepping behind each other. "But you guys lied, too!" There wasn't any more room to move and the man was now right in front of you, leaning into your personal space. "Taehyung, what-"
"Who are you?"
You were caught off guard. "What?" You thought he was joking, but he stayed looking at you with a serious face. "What do you mean who am I?" you sounded offended. "We've met before!"
"Have we?"
"Couple of times!"
Taehyung scanned your entire face before he shook his head. "I don't remember you."
Now you were offended. "I'm Amy!" you announced loudly. "Yoonji's roommate."
At last, he pulled away, his mouth opening in understanding. "Oh... Right, I knew Yoonji had a roommate by that name." He moved farther away but turned his head to you again. "I don't think I've seen you before, though."
You rolled your eyes and slipped around him to escape the place you had been trapped in earlier. "Alcohol does that sometimes," you snorted at him.
Taehyung rubbed his chin, looking at you differently now. You tried to avoid his eyes, examining the room more closely instead. The paintings on the walls, the black encyclopedia on the shelves, the candelabra and tea set on the small table. Every detail was thought of inside the house. "Why are you here, though?" he asked.
"Same reason as you, I assume."
He licked his bottom lip in the act of releasing a small chuckle. "Did you owe a favor to your best friend, too?"
You took out one random book and browsed its thin, yellow pages. "Actually, she owed me."
Taehyung raised his eyebrows in response, then started occupying himself with the little things around the room, as well. "They're ridiculous, aren't they?" You hummed in agreement and put the book back, moving along. "Do you think they might be done for real now?"
"No way." You moved to the smaller window behind the sofa and pulled its curtains away to look at the view. A hill decorated by a dense forest. "Yoonji is over her phone 24/7 waiting for him to text her."
He chuckled again. "I know for a fact Jimin is not taking this seriously. He laughs every time she texts him."
"As he should! She's a drama queen."
"Thank you!" Taehyung called out as if he had been struggling with this for a long time. With two long strides, he appeared next to you and forced you to look into his eyes. "Jimin gets mad at me every time I say that, but she is, isn't she?"
You were a little taken aback by how eager he seemed to be to find this one thing in common between the two of you: having had enough of your friends' relationship. You nodded with an amused smile. "Extremely."
He shook his head, pushing his hair back with a hand. "I honestly don't get how they make it work. Aren't they tired?" He turned serious again and looked at you with big eyes. "I could never have something like that. When I like someone, I want it to be Titanic, not Mr. and Mrs. Smith."
It took you a few seconds to reply, a little lost in his intense stare. But you shrugged. "I kind of get it. It keeps it fun and interesting. They've been together for three years now and yet it's still not boring. Like, they confess their love to each other every other week."
But he insisted. "I wouldn't need all of that to remind my girl how much I love her."
This was getting a little uncomfortable. He was a little too close, and a little too serious. So you leaned back and maneuvered around him, walking towards the door. "Alright, you do your thing with your relationship, they can do theirs." You turned to look at him right at the same time he did. "So, we'll be staying here together, right? I hope that's okay."
Taehyung shrugged just one shoulder. "If it's fine with you," he almost whispered.
You nodded once. "Well, as long as there is not only one bed," you smiled at your joke but he just frowned. You guessed he didn't read fanfiction. You cleared your throat. "The house seems big enough for the two of us, I'm sure we could go about our separate vacations without getting in each other's way."
"Sure, if that's what you want."
You nodded again and pointed to the door. "Should we choose our rooms?"
He clicked his tongue and moved past you. "Sorry, I have already chosen the big chamber on the east wing since I didn't expect company. You might want to get a room on the west wing to avoid me more efficiently." Taehyung walked quickly down the corridor without waiting for you, or even checking if you were following. Not that you had to be following, obviously. You thought he sounded a little annoyed, but you couldn't think of a reason why. If it was you being there, he'd have to get used to it 'cause you weren't going anywhere.
"Cool," you simply replied and followed. The man appeared in your line of view again only after you got in the lobby. He was standing by the staircase, looking at your abandoned suitcase. "I got it," you said automatically, only realizing he hadn't offered to carry it after he looked at you weirdly. You cleared your throat awkwardly, needing to change the subject. "Do you know where the kitchen is? I'm thirsty."
He motioned towards the corridor opposite the one you had just come from. "Down the hall, there's a small one," he said and started jogging up the stairs with his hands in his pockets.
You exhaled the moment he was out of view again. Being around him took up more of your energy than you expected. Which wasn't ideal for a vacation. The whole situation, to be honest, being isolated with Kim Taehyung in an old, strange house, wasn't ideal. You wondered if he felt so put out by it as you did while you walked around the house to find the kitchen. Definitely, you thought. He didn't want to be there with you, it was certain. Not necessarily because he'd shown something like that up until then, but because you knew exactly the type of guy he was. I'll tell you one thing: it wasn't a coincidence that you had such close, common friends, yet barely knew each other.
The kitchen was bigger than your living room, yet it was characterized as small? A long counter stretched all along the wall on the left, with three windows over it that overlooked the garden. There was an island in the middle and cabinets around the rest of the space. A very pleasant room, bright and with light colors on the furniture that went well with the green that posed on the window panes like self-illuminated paintings.
You put your whole face under the faucet and swallowed the very cold -cold like it was just now coming from a nearby river- water. After cleaning your dripping face with your hands, you did a short inspection. The cabinets and the fridge were filled with all kinds of foods, Mrs. Kim was right. You guessed that should have been the case, considering there weren't any markets anywhere close. But that also meant you had to cook all of your food. You and Taehyung. What were you going to do? Cook different meals or share?
That was a future problem. Now, you had to find a room. You dragged your suitcase up the stairs making a little too much noise and turned to the west wing without hesitation. There were a few rooms to choose from; a double room with navy blue wallpaper, a smaller one with a balcony, a more princess-looking room with a small bed and a boudoir. You picked the next one. It had a canopy, queen-sized bed with thick, purple curtains that matched the ones on the big window across the door, and a wooden wardrobe that looked like it was taken from the set of Beauty and the Beast. There was a small fireplace too, although it was not lit, it was still decorated.
A big smile appeared on your face at the sight of the cozy room. Perhaps the house would be worth it after all. Right before walking in, you quickly looked to your left, thinking you saw something, but when nothing was there you walked excitedly inside and closed the door. You tried opening the window to let some fresh air in, but it seemed to be stuck. Or maybe you just didn't know how to do it. It looked fragile and so you let it be, deciding against causing an accident. Instead, you took your clothes and your things out, organizing them around the room to make it more personal, and when you were done, you hoped on the rather tall bed with the softest mattress you had ever felt in your life and called your friend.
"Girl, you owe me big time after this!" you whisper-shouted at her when she picked up, still not certain of how soundproof the building was and not wanting to risk Taehyung hearing anything.
Yoonji giggled from the other end of the call. "Hey, girl! How is the Manor looking so far?"
"Oh, that part is fantastic," you said genuinely. "Still in awe you were stupid enough to let this thing go. But don't try to change my mind like that," you scolded her. You knew her too well for her manipulation to work on you. And she knew that, which is why she giggled again. "Why, oh, why is Kim freaking Taehyung here, Yoon?"
You could almost hear her pout. "Oh, babe, you know I didn't know he'd be there! It's not my fault."
"Well, yes, but when I agreed to do this, it was between having the place to myself or sharing with your boyfriend. I would–"
"Ex-boyfriend!"
"–much rather have Jimin here to annoy instead of stupid Taehyung annoying me," you said, rolling your eyes. You stared at the door then, thinking you'd heard something, but dismissing it as just the old house making noises.
"Oh, c'mon. Don't call him that. It's not his fault he got into this, either."
"You know how I feel about that boy!" you insisted.
"He's actually nice, Amy."
"To you. Because you're his best friend's girlfriend. He doesn't–"
"Ex-girlfriend..."
"–give a fuck about anyone else," you mumbled, playing with your hair. "Anyone who is beneath him and his stupid, rich ass is not worth being nice to, you know?"
Yoonji hummed. "I don't think he's that rich, he's just kind of famous. It's not the same."
You rolled your eyes and groaned. "That's not the point here." You got up and looked out the window. Air had picked up and was making the trees around the garden dance passionately. "I don't feel comfortable around him, so now I have to spend a whole week being weird and worried I might run into him no matter what I do."
Your roommate clicked her tongue disapprovingly at you. "Girl, I say give him a chance and get to know him. Who knows, you may become friends and when you get back we can all hang out together."
You smiled, raising an eyebrow even if she couldn't see it. "I thought you had broken up with Jimin, how are we gonna hang out all together?"
"Ah!" It really must have slipped her mind, too, which made it all that funnier. "You're right, don't become friends with him. You will never see him again, anyway," Yoonji was quick to correct herself.
You sighed, still smiling at your silly friend, as you propped one leg up on the window sill and leaned your head against the glass. "Can't I just leave, say, tomorrow?"
"Amy..."
"Too tired today," you added with a yawn.
"I think you should stay. First of all, if you leave, Jimin might come, and him with his self-proclaimed soulmate there would just make my blood boil, so we can't have that. But second of all, and most importantly, you are at a gorgeous Victorian Manor and all you do is complain about a gorgeous boy living with you. Things could be worse, Amy. He could have been an asshole and ugly." You burst out laughing. "So just enjoy it, okay? Fuck him and enjoy your stay. You won't ever get a chance like this again, Jimin paid for most of it, you know we could never afford that."
You rolled your eyes again, but as lovingly as you could. "Fine..." you succumbed to her words. "I guess I could put on my cute dress and go pick mushrooms and forget about the other guy."
Yoonji cheered. "That's the spirit! Go be a cottagecore fairy, baby, you deserve it."
"God, I hate you."
"Love you, too!"
Yeah, you should enjoy what you could from this. Maybe Taehyung wouldn't be such a pain in the ass. Not very likely, but maybe.
Next chapter
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❛ CLUB DOESN'T GO FIRST ❜
with Ezekiel Reyes.
Request: Second part of this prompt.
BY @ly--canthrope
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Warnings: none.
Word count: about 2.9k
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: @angels-reyes
Masterlist.
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Sitting up and resting your back against the window, you cover your mouth to drown a loud yawn on the palm of your hand. Your head hurts too much, but not more than your heart, feeling yet the oppression squeezing it. Turning to the nightstand, you find a coffee with a hand written note that says ‘drink me with the pill’. Angel has been taking care of you for the last four days, sleeping on the sofa you can't imagine how hurt has to be his back. Feeling so sorry for him. The history repeats itself years ago. Lowering the blind a little, you grab the painkiller to swallow it with a sip of the cold drink. You don't want to check your phone, knowing what you are going to find. But the masochism is stronger than your desire for not doing it. Grabbing it from under Angel's pillow, you unlock it.
There are thousands of texts and lost calls from EZ's number. And, like every morning since four days ago, you read all the messages. This time, you have fifty two. The most recent is from twenty minutes ago. You're aware that he has been sleeping on his brother's door waiting for you to talk with him. But you don't want any explanation. You understood why he was leaving in the middle of the night, thinking that you were sleeping. And you don't want to think about the fact that he has been cheating you. But if it's not, what else?
To: angelito 👼🏻
“I'm still alive to my misfortune”
Leaving the phone away, you try to get up stretching your whole anatomy after putting your feet on the warmth floor because of the sun going through the window. Walking straight to the bathroom and after having another drink from the mug, you place it over the marble sink to take off your pajamas, which is basically an old Angel's shirt, you get into the shower. The hot water wets down your hair and your anatomy, rubbing your face to get rid of the rheums and gargling to clean your throat from the taste of beer and cigars courtesy of last night. When your mane is already washed, and your body too, you step out from the shower wrapped in a soft blue towel covering from your chest to your knees.
From: angelito 👼🏻
“Drink the coffee, take the painkiller and come to the clubhouse. Prez wanna talk with you”.
To: angelito 👼🏻
“Is your brother there?”
From: angelito 👼🏻
“In Yuma till tonight”.
Sighing heavily, you nod at the last message walking back to his room to get dressed. For a moment you thought that he was in the building hallway waiting again for you to talk with him. But you're starting to see ghosts in a house that it's not haunted. When you're ready, picking your basic stuff around the house, like the keys of your car and your wallet, to keep them inside your bag; you leave the Reyes house. Unlocking the black Camaro, you find a note stuck in the front windshield. ‘I love you. I'm so sorry’. Crumpling it into a ball, you throw it to the ground without giving it more importance than it already has.
Driving your way to the clubhouse, your phone rings on the codriver seat, flashing EZ's name on the screen. And you're about to throw it too by the window, when you have to stop your car dead some inches away to not run Creeper over, at the entrance of the scrapping.
“Shit, mami!”
“Sorry, Crep'!” You say, sticking your head out of the car for a moment.
Biting your bottom lip, dying of shame, you continue by the gravel road to the front yard. Parking close to the motorcycles, Angel receives you between his strong arms, as soon as you step out of the Camaro.
“Gotcha!” He screams with a singing voice, lifting you up some seconds, squeezing you under his grip and making you laugh.
“Stop! You're gonna break me!”
“Yeah, sure… 'cause you're soft and fluffy, aren't you?” He jokes pocking the tip of your nose, before placing an arm on your shoulders.
“What does Bishop want?”
“You will see, (Y/N)”. He smirks at you, bringing you to the inside of the clubhouse. “He's in the Templo”.
Greeting the other members and grabbing another cup of coffee, you take off the sunglasses that cover the black bags under your eyes coming into it. Closing the sliding door, El Presidente gets up from his chair to hug you with an arm on your back.
“Sit down, querida”.
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You have been all day thinking about the thing you want EZ to explain to you, making a whole speech in your head that you know you're going to forget when you see him again. Yes, you still be raged and bereaved, but you can't erase all at once a year of relationship, and a life of friendship. Your hands tremble over the steer wheel, clinging your fingers around it when you drive through the scrapping again when the night has fallen down above Santo Padre. Soon, you find him sitting on the porch waiting for you, after his brothers told him that you wanted to talk. Licking your bottom lip and breathing by your nose, you leave the car parked close to the motorbikes, getting out of it with dubious steps and your hands keeped in the back pockets of your jeans. Ezekiel smiles with a saddened aura wrapping him, noticing that the shine you used to have in your eyes now is gone. Standing up on his feet, you follow him to the roulotte, where everything happens. And even if you would like to have this conversation in another place, you know it's going to help you because of all the memories you have built there. This place is going to keep you in the real world.
Opening the door, the younger Reyes lets you come in first, closing it behind his back in the meantime you sit at the table. Your hands are intertwined in a first over the wood, with your gaze fixed on them, until he has a seat in front of you. Emboldening, you look at him.
“Those… three or four times you left past midnight, you went to see her?”
He nods.
“Yes”.
Licking your incisors with the tip of your tongue, you tour your lower lip with it. You already knew it. But it's painful hearing him confirming it to you.
“Did you f—”.
“No”. He just says, interrupting you with his eyes constantly on yours. No doubts, no trembling tone of voice. “I would never touch her. I would never touch any woman that it's not you”.
“Well, you were ‘actually’ touching her”. You laugh with a bitter and sarcastic laughter, resting your back against the sofa watching him snort. “Why? Why did you lie to me?”
“I couldn't tell you anything until being sure”.
“Being sure about what, Ezekiel? Fuck off with your secrets!” You bark hitting the table with the palm of your hand.
“Until being sure of who killed my mother... and who hired him”.
Placing both forearms on the table, frowning confused and your mouth slightly opened, you try to say something. Stuttering nonsense words. Now, in part, you feel like shit. You don't care anymore why he didn't tell you but the fact he has been through this alone. Rubbing your face with both hands and pulling back your hair from the roots to flood them onto your nape, you snort.
“Angel knows it?”
“No”.
“And… why Emily? What does she have to do with all this?”
“Jose Galindo hired a hitman to kill my parents”. EZ briefly explains, keeping his gaze on yours at all times. “Pops worked for him, but when he met my mom and got pregnant of Angel, he left the Cartel and ran away. I don't know if he… did it because he thought that pops could speak with the DEA or… I don't know… I don't know yet”.
“Do you… know the name of the… man who shot your mother?” Ez told you that he saw his face, but it wasn't enough to find him. He just nods, freezing your blood.
And you know it's the exact and perfect moment to drop your condition on the table.
“I want you to leave the club”.
The youngest Reyes twists his neck confused, because he wasn't expecting these words and you're talking pretty serious.
“If you want me to come back, I want you to leave the club. I want you away from Emily, from the Cartel, from all this shit. I'm not gonna live as your mother did. I love you, but this life is not for me, Ezekiel”.
“You can't ask m—”.
“Yes, I can. And I'm doing it. I've been with you for the last eight years. Unconditionally. Always by your side. But I can't. I can't anymore”. You sentence about to cry, gesticulating with one hand to cut the air between both. “I'm leaving Santo Padre tomorrow. You have until noon”.
You're hating Bishop right now more than you thought you could ever hate someone in your life. But that man is wise like a damn rat. And sometimes, he knows you better than yourself. Even so, you're fucking up EZ so bad that he's about to break into pieces when he watches you getting up from the sofa. A lot of bullshit dances in your head. His mother's murderer, Emily trying to get him closer, Angel living happily in his ignorance. You're sure that your brain is going to explode from one moment to another, when a strong and firm hand grabs your left wrist. Bowing down your orbs to the fingers clinged around your skin, you raise up your gaze to the man with his eyes filled with tears.
“I cho—choose you over everything”. He says with a broken thread of voice, shaking like a scared kid, slowly pulling you closer.
Surprised and stunned, you let him sit you on his lap. Sinking his face in your neck, he finally lets go of all those things that were oppressing his heart, turning them into tears. His tensed arms surrounding your waist, making you know that he doesn't want you to go.
“Isn't it enough to asking him to do it?”
“Querida, words will always be words. And words are gone with the wind”.
“I'm gonna destroy him”.
“Didn't he do it first? I want his kutte on my table”.
Doubting, you bring your hands to the back of his head. As soon as he feels your touch again, his cry gets louder staining your shirt holding you stronger. EZ is trying to ask you to stay, to tell you that he's going to do whatever you ask him for, but his voice is so low that you can't hear him well. Your fingers caress his scalp slowly, from his nape to the top of his head, resting your cheek on it.
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Ezekiel takes one last look at the leather kutte exposed over the table of the roulotte. Since he came out of jail, the only two reasons he have had to continue his life have been you and this piece of clothes. They're his family. They love him. He enjoys the shit he does in some kind of way, but he can't imagine a life without you. For him it's going to be easy to find a job, start from zero in another city, another country. He knows it well. But he's going to miss riding his bike as much as he has done until now.
Taking the kutte and cleaning his tears, EZ has a deep breath before stepping out of the trailer, guiding his steps through the alley towards the clubhouse. Every member of his charter is sitting at the table inside the templo, without understanding what's happening when they watch him coming in with the vest in a hand. No one, except Bishop and Angel. He's devastated, having his heart divided in two. One of them falling into pieces. But that feeling is taken to the background because of the confusion that tours through his body, when he finds you there too behind Bishop's chair, resting your back on the dark wall.
“I just… want to thank you for… welcoming me here, as one more of you. For letting me be part of this family, but…” Ezekiel leaves the kutte over the table with trembling fingers, running his hands through the fabric to wipe out some small wrinkles. “I leave the club”.
“What?” “Brother, the fuck?” “Bishop, what is that?”
All the members talk in unison, while Angel looks at his brother in silence. Actually, he's feeling proud of what he is doing. Yes, he's leaving the club. But Ezekiel is showing that he cares about his family, more than anything.
“I don't know if I have to do… something before… leaving”. He says then, clearing his throat and tangling his hands behind his back.
“Wear that fucking kutte and place the boxes of beers that came this morning”. Bishop just says, while you take some steps to put your hands on his shoulders. “See? I told you, kid”.
“Listen, querida, I would leave the club too if you asked me to do it. You're the kind of person that could put out the flames of hell”.
“But… I don't want him to do it”.
“He will do it, if he loves you. If he truly considers you his family. We're always with this shit about ‘club goes first’, but that's not true. Blood. Blood goes first. No matter how bad your true family treated you, it's in our DNA. I will not let him go, it's just a test. And if he chooses the club over you, I'll fuck him up”.
“If you cross a single world, again, with Galindo's wife, listen to me, Ezekiel”. El Presidente gets up from his chair, placing one hand over the table to use the other to point at him. “I will cut your body into pieces, keeping you alive all the time possible, to spread it all over the desert. Don't play dumb, prospect, I am not kidding”.
The crew are still confused, but they know that as soon as you leave the Templo, Angel will explain to them what was the conversation between Bishop and you.
“And about you, querida”. The man turns a little, twisting his neck. “Look where you drive by. Creeper was shot some months ago, don't run him over too”.
“Yeah! Exactly! I'm fucking fragile, mami”.
“Like a Fabergé's egg”. You say rolling your eyes.
“If you say that because of what I'm thinking… I'm not bald, I like to shave my head”. He replies making fun of you, watching how you walk closer to EZ.
“Oh, c'mon! Isn't that bad to be bald, Creeper. You save money on shampoo”.
The laughs flood the Templo, in the meantime that you grab the kutte to help a confused EZ to put it on.
“Let's go, prospect, you have work to do”. Palming his shoulders, you accompany him to the bar, after closing the glass door.
“I… I… Wha—What hap…” Your boyfriend isn't able to form a sentence, rubbing his face with both hands. “Did you… Did he…?”
“We did” You reply, crossing the bar to grab some beers. Opening both, you offer him one. “I didn't want to reach the extreme of watching you hand over the kutte, but Bishop wanted to push you to your limits”.
“But, then… What happens with us? Are you leaving? Are you leaving Santo Padre? I did what you ask me to, you ca—”.
“Sometimes, I really think that you're not this… smart as you used to, Ezekiel”. Drinking from your bottle, you shake your head with a fleeting smile. “It was just a test, EZ. I'm not going anywhere. Bishop had the… brilliant idea of makes you proof me your love over the club”.
“So… You're staying?”
“I'm ready to punch you in the face, if you ask me again”.
Leaving his beer away over a table, he takes three big steps towards you, clinging his arms around your body. For a second you're sure that you're running out of air, before he starts to kiss your face all over it. He was truly fucked, and now is when you're seeing it. Surrounding his back with your arms, you push him closer to you, shortening all the possible distance between both.
“I promise I'll not keep any other secret from you. Never. I swear to my mom, baby. There's no one in this life over you, over what I feel for you”. Ezekiel assures you, sinking his face in the space between his forearm and your neck. “I love you. You're gonna see it every fucking day, mi amor”.
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