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beomiracles · 1 month

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⌞ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with such vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.”

wc -> 17k (oopsie daises)

pairings stepbrother!beomgyu x stepsister!reader warnings stepcest, daddy issues, some mommy issues, character death, emo/punk!beomgyu + he has an eyebrow piercing, major asshole!beomgyu, mentions of alcoholism, lots of arguing, angsty as shit but with a happy ending, talks of grief and letting go, smut (again, stepcest), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, softdom!gyu but he's also a menace, guilt ridden sex, unprotected + pullout, handjob + vaginal fingering, some cum eating, use of "sis" both outside and during the smut (I cannot stress this enough), might be teetering on the edge of dubious consent at some points but nothing crazy. dead dove do not eat

#serene adds ✎ I have no clue of how this happened lol. PLEASE read every single warning I am begging you. don't read this if as much as one single tag made you waver. ⎯ aside from like the fact that it's stepcest, I fucking love this whole fic. I'm so proud of it and I would actually cry if someone (who got through it) would be up to share some thoughts :>

“There’s still time to turn back..” You mutter as you lean against the leather of the passenger seat. Listening to the bustling engine slowly dying out as the car comes to a stop. “Come on princess, don’t be like that.” Your dad sighs as he retrieves the key, turning it between his fingers. “You knew that this move was coming and-“ — “Yeah, I did. But not this soon, not now.” You argue, folding your arms across your chest in defiance. “You could’ve at least waited until I was out of college, until I had gotten my own place.”

More than anything you wished to be able to change your father’s mind, to turn things back to how they were before he met Ms Choi. But that was of course impossible, and now you were paying the price for not getting a room on campus. “But look on the bright side, it’s a mere fifteen minute drive to school, and Beomgyu has his license, I’m sure he could take you someday.” Your dad tries, a small smile on his face. — You grimaced at the name, your chest churning in disgust at the mere thought of sharing a car with that thing.

A tap to your window makes you turn your head in its direction. There stood Ms Choi, she sends you a small wave and before you know it, your father had climbed out of the vehicle, leaving you to sulk. Their voices are muffled through the thick glass but you can see them enveloping each other in a tender hug, your dad leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. With a small grimace your gaze flickers to the small bracelet around your wrist, its fine silver glinting in the sun and your chest contracts slightly. You supposed you should feel happy for him, it had been a long time since you’d last seen your father so at ease, so in love.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t like his new girlfriend, no you were quite fond of Ms Choi. She was nice, often bringing freshly baked cookies whenever she came over, remembering your favorite foods as she made them when you visited. Most importantly she made your dad feel things he hadn’t felt since the passing of your mother. — You just couldn’t understand how such a sweet woman had managed to raise such a being of a son.

Beomgyu was far from anything his mother represented. He was loud, obnoxiously so, his foul mouth going off every other second, spewing his hatred for the world and the people in it. Beomgyu listened to deranged music, the kind that made your ears bleed. He blamed his father for all his problems, not to mention taking his pent up anger out on his sweet mom. — The black charcoal around his eyes represented that of the rotting darkness slowly eating away at his soul, and you wondered if Beomgyu had always been angry. Perhaps he came out like that, you were almost certain that he was a menace even as a small baby.

You had been to Ms Choi’s house a handful of times. It was a small two story flat, neatly decorated in light and inviting shades and smelled of roses. Had it not been for the first room to the right on the second floor, you would’ve probably loved it there. — The small hallway is familiar as you stumble inside, a heavy suitcase clutched tightly in your grasp. “Oh dear, let me help you with that”, Ms Choi fusses as she reaches for your bag but you merely shake your head, “I’m fine miss, don’t worry”, you assure her.

She turns to your dad who was carrying at least twice your baggage as he walked up the dainty pathway leading to the house. “Beomgyu ought to come down and be of some assistance”, she murmurs as she throws a glance over her shoulder, her eyes traveling up the staircase by the end of the hall. — “I’m sure we’ll be fine!” You quickly chirp, dreading the thought of having to deal with him so soon. But there was no changing Ms Choi’s mind as she immediately calls out for her nuisance of a son.

You swallow thickly as an eerie silence follows, your dads girlfriend huffs out a short breath as she fiddles with the jewelry around her neck. “Beomgyu! Come down here!” The nervous edge to her voice was palpable and part of you took pity on the sweet lady for being stuck with such a being in her house, no less as her biological child.

Soon the floorboards above you creak, the old house immediately giving away the presence of someone else on the top floor. You tried tearing your gaze from the stairs, but it seemed impossible as Beomgyu’s figure emerged. His step is heavy as he drags his feet across the floor, his hair had grown longer since last you’d seen him, and that was over four months ago. You often did your best in avoiding him, thus leading the two of you to meeting less than a dozen times during the two years in which your parents had been pursuing one another. Well to hell with that plan now, you thought.

“Hi darling, why don’t you say hi to-” — “I know who she is.” He cuts her off, sparing you a mere side glance before his gaze shifts to your dad struggling with the suitcases, a look of distaste on his face. “A-Alright”, Ms Choi clears her throat as she motions toward your father, “why don’t you help bring their stuff inside.” She receives only a small huff from her son as Beomgyu pushes past the two of you to venture outside. You don’t miss the flicker of disappointment on his mother’s face. No matter what he did, she would always cherish and protect him. You couldn’t understand why. — She turns to you with an apologetic smile, “your room is down the hall to the right.”

The stairs felt eternal as you pulled your suitcase up, intent on not needing any extra hands. And when you finally reach flat ground, you heave a sigh. Though the comforting peace was short-lived as the thumping beat of a heavy bass filled your eardrums, the sound overpowering that of the wheels on your suitcase as you rolled it along the wooden floor. With a frown you near the first door, it was slightly ajar, allowing for the ear piercing music to float out into the small corridor. Already familiar with the layout of the house, you recognized the room as Beomgyu’s, and as the owner in question was currently downstairs, you dared a small peek.

You can’t remember actually being inside his room, merely passing it in search for the bathroom as the first floor lacked one. And it was unlike anything the rest of the house represented. It was messy and crammed. The once cream white walls were covered in a variety of posters portraying his favorite bands, one of which you guessed to currently be playing through the large speakers by his desk. — His bed looked as if it hadn’t been made in weeks, possibly months and he seemed to be making good use of his floor as an alternate wardrobe. His computer was on as well, the bright light of the screen catching your attention in the otherwise dim room as the curtains drawn prevented much sunlight from reaching through.

Upon closer inspection your eyes widen as you realize what kind of video was playing. The almost naked woman in the footage emits a pornographic moan and your jaw slacks as you take a couple of steps back in complete disbelief. — The room was like a tainted mark left on an otherwise clean canvas. The black lungs of a smoker, rotten and decaying. The only flaw in an otherwise picture perfect home, and you would’ve probably pitied the poor soul living here had it not been Choi Beomgyu.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine as you twist on the spot, coming face to face with the inhabitant of the room you’d invaded. Beomgyu lingers in the doorway, your discarded suitcase lazily kicked to the side as his brows furrow, the glinting metal on one of them catching your eye, had he always had that piercing? — You gulp, fists clenching before relaxing again.

“I uh…I was.. I was looking for my room..” The excuse was petty, and you knew he could tell by the way his lips pulled into a small grimace. “Well this certainly isn’t it.” He spits, taking a charging step forward and you feel yourself immediately faltering back against his desk. — “Out.” He grits, and you could’ve sworn you heard the way his teeth ground together as his jaw flexed.

Not having to be told twice, you quickly slip out of the room, the door being slammed shut on your ass in a mere second. “What a dick”, you mutter, though you supposed it was somewhat deserved as you went in his room without permission. — Your own bedroom, on the other hand, matched the rest of the house. It was small, barely fitting your bed and a study desk, but the window gazing out over the front yard was remarkable. Your fingers graze along the lace curtains as you think of the multiple ways in which you’d be able to decorate the tiny space. Perhaps living here could become somewhat bearable, you thought.

⸝⸝

No. You quickly found that it would become most unbearable to thrive under this roof. Dinner was awkward. As awkward as it could possibly get. The air was dense, laying on top of your table like a thick blanket, enveloping your party of four in a stale silence. The sounds of silverware scraping against porcelain plates fill the dainty dining room. Every bite felt like a piece of rock sliding down your throat and no matter how hard you trained your gaze to the cut piece of meat in front of you, Beomgyu’s eyes felt like daggers on your skin. Was he still mad about earlier?

“So, Beomgyu, I hear you’re about to start your senior year as well.” Your father clears his throat, turning to the younger male with a small smile. Beomgyu’s gaze finally shifts away from your near sweating figure and over to your dad as he sends him an almost unnoticeable nod. The statement made your eyebrows raise in surprise, he was a year older than you, shouldn’t he have graduated before summer? — Beomgyu answers your unspoken question in a bored sigh, “failed my last year.”

“Oh but he’s worked hard to be able to retake his classes this upcoming semester!” His mother suddenly butts in as she places a hand on top of your father’s. You watch their small exchange before your eyes flit over to Beomgyu who looked almost disgusted at the close proximity your parents held. Of course he would be against it, you wondered if there was anything that didn’t make his nose scrunch up in disdain.

“Then perhaps the two of you can study together?” Ms Choi suddenly exclaims as she looks to you with an expression best described as hopeful. “Your father tells me you do well in school.” — “Of course, my princess is in the top of her class”, your dad boasts as he flashes you a small grin. You sheepishly nod, cheeks reddening at the sudden attention directed your way. “Why, isn’t that an amazing idea, Beom?” His mother cheers to which her son grimaces, “wonderful.”

You didn’t like Beomgyu. And you thought you had every reason not to. You had never met someone so completely disregarding of other people’s feelings. Someone so selfish and arrogant, someone who took so much for granted. Like his mom. — You supposed you envied him a little. Ms Choi was such a wonderful person, not to mention an amazing mother. You often found yourself reminiscing of what you’d lost when in her presence. But Beomgyu seemed to hold little affection for something you longed so desperately to have. — You remember the evening clearly, the first night you met, two years ago.

Dinner was awkward even back then.

You’re sat gathered around the very same table, in the very same seats. Back then you had a small crush on him, on Beomgyu. How could you not? He was everything you weren’t, everything you thought you wanted to be. The expressive t-shirt he wore, a band you didn’t recognize, but you guessed it to be some type of rock. His slightly baggy jeans, decorated with a few simple chains. Dark hair, though it was shorter back then, and of course, the liner around his eyes. It was impossible not to be drawn to him. But he didn’t look at you, not once.

You helped your dad clear the table whilst Beomgyu accompanied his mom in the kitchen as she prepared dessert. “What do you think of her?” Your father asks with a hopeful smile. You knew that he was nervous about introducing someone new to you, and Ms Choi would be the first woman he’d seen since your mother’s passing. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that your approval weighed like a ton of bricks on your dads shoulders, and you didn’t want to let him down.

“She seems sweet.”

He sighs, a relieved sigh. “Do you like her?” You ask, unable to hide the small frown on your face. Your father remains silent for a moment, his hands busying themselves with stacking the plates on top of one another. “I do”, he nods, his face immediately lighting up as he sees your small smile. But before you get another word out, the voice of Ms Choi pierces the quaint house.

Neither of you move, but the conversation between Beomgyu and his mother was no longer private. “Well if that’s how you really feel, then perhaps you’ll find your father’s place a more suitable living space.” Ms Choi exclaims, her voice is thick, as if on the verge of breaking at any given moment. A brief silence follows her words, and you hold your breath.

“That piece of shit lowlife?” Beomgyu suddenly seethes and his mom quickly interrupts him. “Don’t call him that.” She sounds almost pleading. — Her son chuckles and if you had been able to see him, you would guess that he was shaking his head. “You still let him get away with all the shit he’s done?” — “Oh come on, you know it’s not like that, Beom..”

“He’s an asshole, mom.” Beomgyu finally states, his voice holds no resentment, in fact it barely holds any emotion at all. “And you, you’re both naive and stupid for thinking he’s anything else.” — Then he re-emerges from the kitchen, not sparing either you or your father as much as a second glance as he heads for the front door, it slams shut behind him, leaving the faint sobs of Ms Choi to echo through the small house.

Your dad rushes to the kitchen, but you remain frozen in place. His small whispers of reassurance carry out into the dining room as he tries to comfort the crying mess that was his girlfriend. Your eyes flit between the small opening to the kitchen and the hallway; feeling more than conflicted as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

After a few moments of hesitation, you finally come to a decision as you tear yourself from your spot by the since long vacant table. Quietly, you retrace Beomgyu’s last steps and you, too, push the heavy door open. — The cold night air hits your bare arms making you wrap them around yourself as you begin walking down the gravel pathway. You really had no idea of where he might’ve gone, or how you were even supposed to find him. But as you push the squeaking fence gate open, you know that you won’t have to look far.

Perched on the sidewalk, knees tucked to his chest, Beomgyu leans his chin on top of his folded arms. Drawing in a small breath, you muster up the courage to do what you had come out here for. — He doesn’t say anything as you take a seat beside him, mimicking his actions by pulling your knees to your chest as you wrap your arms around them. You weren’t exactly good at comforting people, but you knew what sadness felt like, it was all you had been able to feel for three months after your mother’s death.

“You here to fuckin’ lecture me too?” He spits, his gaze is fixed on the asphalt road in front of him. Perhaps Beomgyu’s sadness was different from yours. You shake your head, though you’re unsure if he can even see it. And for a moment, everything is silent. There was a nervous feeling bubbling within your chest, you didn’t know if it was because of your small crush on him or because of the argument you just witnessed between him and his mom. The argument sounded stupid in your ears, and it got you wondering..

“Why do you hate your father?” Your words ring out in the quiet night air, and somewhere to your left, you feel Beomgyu shift against the concrete sidewalk. You guess he hadn’t expected the question. — “‘Cause he’s a piece of shit.” He huffs, though his voice lacks the spite it held when in discussion with his mom. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you frown. “But he’s still your father, isn’t he?”

Beomgyu might as well have laughed in your face. He shakes his head, one of his hands ruffling through his dark hair before he lets it fall to his side. “That changes nothing”, he states. You were tempted to disagree, it changed everything, didn’t it? To hate someone, to hate someone so close to you, someone so important.. You don’t think you could ever hate your father.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Perhaps it was a stupid proposal, but in truth, you were at loss for ideas. Beomgyu snorts, his worn out sneakers kicking a few small rocks as he lets them roll out across the street. “You can’t talk to someone like him, and even if I could, I would have nothing to say to him.” — He draws in a sharp breath, holding it for a good moment before he slowly lets it go. “Some people..” he begins, his fingers picking at a few strands of vegetation that had managed to seep through the cracks of the constructed road. “Some people don’t deserve to have kids, some people shouldn’t have them.”

You’re silent after that, unsure of what to say. He was right, some people were not meant to be parents. You wondered what his dad could have possibly done to warrant such hatred from his only son. It felt wrong to pry, so you didn’t. He would tell you one day, when he was ready, at least you thought so. — “But your mom is–”

“My mom is stupid.” He spits, his expression suddenly turning sour. You didn't like how Beomgyu spoke about his mother, or how he spoke to her. “She doesn’t understand how fucked up dad is, and she still defends him despite everything he’s done.” — He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing together as his gaze remains ahead. “She’s truly pathetic.”

Your chest churned at the statement. And perhaps your relationship with Beomgyu would’ve turned out different, had you not said your next words. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t regret it either. “At least you have a mother.” It angered you. It angered you that he treated people so close to him with such hatred. Did he not understand? Not everyone had the privilege of seeing their mom everyday, not everyone got to feel her warm embrace, eat her food, have her kiss your cheek.

Beomgyu’s hatred was selfish. He was selfish. Because you would have done anything to see your mother one last time. — He turns to you, and for the first time that night, he looks at you. “And that makes you so special?” His gaze narrows down on you, the dark liner around his eyes only makes his expression look twice as gloomy. “You think you’re the only one who’s life is shit just because your mom went and died?”

His words stung, like salt on a fresh wound, slowly being rubbed in. You fight back the tears that were prickling in the corners of your eyes. You just wanted to help. But you were obviously not very good at comforting people, still, you thought that he might’ve been at least a little understanding. How idiotic of you. Beomgyu rises to his feet, giving the gravel beneath him one final kick as it flies everywhere.

“Don’t think you know the first thing about me just because you’ve heard me and my mom argue once.” His expression darkens even further in the pale night, and you swallow a small sob. “And don’t for a second think that we have anything in common, or that you have the right to talk to me like that.” He snaps, hands digging into the denim of his jeans, the chains on them rattling as he does.

“It’s not my fault your mommy died, but let me give you a piece of advice yeah?” He leans down, his face inches from your own and you resist the urge to pull back, instead blinking up at him as a nasty sneer casts over his features. “Get over it.”

With that, he straightens himself back up, letting out a small scoff as he turns on his heel before venturing down the street. — Beomgyu didn’t come back home that night, Ms Choi told you so, you didn’t know where he went, you didn’t care. From that point on, you hated Choi Beomgyu, you hated everything that was him, everything that reminded you of him. But most of all, you hated anything that made you feel like he had made you feel that night; the night he’d left you on the street to sob in your hands.

⸝⸝

Your first official night under Ms Choi’s roof felt weird, it didn’t feel at all like home, maybe because it wasn’t, or maybe because you laid in bed with the knowledge that Beomgyu was only a room away. — It was dark, the soft glow of the moon seeping through your lace curtains. You had yet to fully unpack, your small night lamp long forgotten about in one of the boxes downstairs. The room smelled weird too, it didn’t smell like home, like mom.

Despite it being years since she passed you often found resolve in venturing inside your parents room, the room that smelled the most of her. How you would let the tips of your fingers trail across the smooth bed sheets as you imagined her sleeping form. — The first months after her passing you even found yourself going through her old clothes, trying to keep anything that carried her scent close. But even the house itself held her presence, her laughter echoing off the walls, her soft hum as she prepared dinner, her cheerful voice as she skipped down the stairs.

This house did not hold a single trace of your mother, she was truly gone. Your dad had moved on, he had fallen in love, he’d stopped being miserable, he no longer cried for his deceased wife in the darkest hours of night. Did that make him a bad person? You wanted to hate him for leaving your mom behind, even though she was technically the one who had left you. You wanted to tell him that he should never love a woman that wasn’t her. But you couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. — Your father was happy now.

Perhaps Beomgyu had been right that night. Perhaps you should get over it. Perhaps you should’ve gotten over it a long time ago. But you didn’t want to, because getting over it meant letting go, letting go of your mom, and you didn’t want that. She was your mom.

Your fingers instinctively reach for the bracelet around your wrist, fiddling with the silver anxiously. This was your last piece of her, your last line, the string that still connected you to her. — You treasured it dearly yet you couldn’t but feel almost melancholic whenever you turned the jewelry around in your hands, an immense wave of sadness washing over you as the small piece kept reminding you of what you’d lost.

You shake the tears away, sitting up as you lean against the bed frame. You wouldn’t cry tonight, you wouldn’t allow that. Instead your mind wanders down the hall, down to the room on your left. You wondered what Beomgyu was up to, was he already asleep? Maybe he was feeling restless too.. “What the fuck”, you scoff, shaking your head at the glimpse of sincerity you cast his way. Having already gone through with that mistake once, you would be sure to not make it again. Beomgyu didn’t deserve your sympathy.

He didn’t deserve anything.

⸝⸝

The following weeks went by in almost a blur. Your dad and you got settled in quickly, and with the help of Ms Choi, you now had a wildflower blooming by the sill of your window. Not to mention the pink rug you had so carefully picked out as you laid it in the center of your room. — But happiest was probably your father. It was sweet, seeing how giddy he got whenever the new woman in his life was around, you liked watching him fall in love. And without you even realizing it, the small house soon began to feel like home.

Even you and Beomgyu got along fine, if getting along was what you could call it. You had silently conducted a small routine which was to be strictly followed by the two of you. It helped ensure that you wouldn’t have to run into one another more than absolutely necessary. — First, you always used the bathroom at seven. He was never up by then and you enjoyed having free access to both the shower and toilet as you took your time getting ready for the day.

Second, your rooms were strictly prohibited areas, under no circumstances were you allowed to step foot inside his personal space, nor was he to do so in yours. That didn’t change the fact that he would continuously blast his ear screeching music so loud that the floorboards thumped in rhythm to the beat. Nor did it change the way you threw your hairbrush against the wall in an attempt to get him to shut up, not that it ever proved successful.

Third, and perhaps the most important one; you did not know each other outside of home. Senior year in college started about two weeks ago, and within the four confined walls of the school building, you and Beomgyu were nothing but mere strangers. Not that the same couldn’t be said for the way you treated each other back at home. Which leads you on to another unspoken rule, the rule that made your parents believe that you got along just fine.

You think it was said last rule that made everything come crumbling down one October night.

“A whole week?” You splutter, your fork slipping from your grasp and hitting the porcelain plate in front of you. Ms Choi makes a small grimace at your blunt shock but quickly masks it with a smile, “yes, me and your father were thinking..” — “Come on princess”, your dad interrupts, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You’re more than old enough to sit the house for a week, besides, we’ve been meaning to get some alone time.” He sends you a look that practically screams, “don’t fuck this up for me, alright?”

With a small groan you nod, “yeah it’s alright I suppose.” But it wasn’t, in fact it was far from it. This meant that you would have to spend a full seven days, locked up in the same house as Beomgyu, with no one to save you. “Is this what people call dark humor?” You mutter, though not loud enough for anyone to pick up on, at least you thought they couldn’t. Opposite you, Beomgyu’s lip twitches as his tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his fingers playing with the rings on his hands; clearly not oblivious to your small comment.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine”, Ms Choi adds in a most lighthearted tone. Your dad slowly nods as his gaze flits between you and Beomgyu, watching as you both turned to shoot him a small smile.

⸝⸝

“And don’t forget to lock the door, oh and I’ve written down all the emergency numbers on a piece of paper plastered on the fridge, and there’s–” — “Dad, I’m fine.” You take his hands in yours, giving them a light squeeze and your father grins, “right, sorry princess.” He throws a quick glance over his shoulder to where Ms Choi was waiting by the car, having already shared a most quick farwell with her son.

“Go, I’ll be okay”, you sigh as you urge him toward the door. “Alright, alright, just promise to call if anything happens.” He pleads as he ruffles your already disheveled hair due to the amount of hugs he had insisted on. You give him an affirmative nod as he steps out. “Love you, princess!” Is the last thing he gets out before you close the front door in his face, worried that you might never have him leave if you didn’t. The hallway quickly becomes enveloped in a near deafening silence, the emptiness of the house palpable. But the short-lived peace would soon be disrupted.

“Fuck, are you fourteen or twenty?” Beomgyu jeers as he leans against the doorframe leading into the living room, arms folded across his torso. He’s dressed in a pair of loose jeans that hung low on his waist, and had it not been for the even baggier t-shirt thrown on his chest, you would’ve probably caught more than a glimpse of his stomach. The piece of jewelry on his eyebrow glints in the faint morning light as he sends you a small frown.

It was too early for any of his snarky remarks, you thought as you swallowed a deep breath. Just ignore him, don’t bite back, that’s what he wants. But as you watch his conceding smirk practically double in size at your silence, you find yourself unable to hold back. “Well at least I talk to him.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. You didn’t care, for the way his face dropped, if only for a brief moment, made it all worth it.

Beomgyu was quick to hide his initial surprise as he shifted against the doorframe, his dark eyes narrowing down on you. “It’s hardly like you’ve got anyone else to confide in”, he drawls, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his subtle acknowledgement of the lunches you spent alone in the school cafeteria. Your fists clench, your anger on the verge of slipping past the weakening brims of your control.

“You think you’re so much better, huh?” Your angered huff is met by a low chuckle but before he gets a reply out, you cut him off. “I’m not the one retaking a whole year of college, I mean, I knew you were stupid, but this exceeds any of my previous assumptions.” The words slipped from your lips without you being able to stop them, and it felt good, really good. Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at the insult thrown his way, the arms over his chest flexing as his body tensed.

Feeling almost high off of the harsh remarks, you continue. “Let’s not even bring up your mom. You can barely look her in the eyes, you treat her like absolute shit, and at your grown age too.” — It’s his turn to flare up now, his previously stunned expression immediately morphing into a scowl as he charges forward. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her in front of me.” He seethes, teeth grinding against each other as he reaches you, his fingers wrapping around the collar of your blouse as he shoves you against the wall with a thud.

For the two years in which you had known Beomgyu, sorry, been acquainted with, you don’t think the two of you had ever as much as even shook hands, much less hugged. But now his face was only inches from yours, burning with so much rage that you thought you might just combust into a pile of ashes on the floor. His chest heaves, and his grip on your shirt is near deadly as he yanks the fabric up, his taller frame looming over your own.

You scoff, trying to mask the unease that immediately surged within your chest at his close proximity. “See? Can’t even bring your mom up without you throwing a hissy fit", you jeer. — The scowl once on his lips, slowly turns into a sneer, a sly look emerging on his face, like you had just said exactly what he needed to hear, given him the opportunity he’d been searching for.

His breath is warm on your already hot body as he speaks. “Well it’s not exactly like you’re any better.” You catch his tongue dragging across his bottom lip, as if savouring the moment, his eyes focused solely on the way your once stoic expression fell. “Can’t even mention her without you bursting out into tears.” — You open your mouth to object, your brows furrowing at the accusation but he’s quicker, shamelessly cutting you off to get his point across. “There’s no use in denying it. Don’t you think I’ve heard you? Crying in your room late at night, crying for your dead mommy.”

His gaze snaps to your wrist, hand darting out to grab ahold of it as his thumb slides across the bracelet resting there. “And this? A souvenir of her death? That’s pathetic.” He cocks his head to the side, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “It’s like a child sleeping with stuffed toys”, he sneers, letting go of you with a small grimace before his grip returns to the collar of your shirt.

You hated the way your teary eyes almost immediately gave you away, and you fervently tried to blink them away; much to no avail as Beomgyu chuckled. “Did I hit a nerve?” He wonders, voice laced with fabricated pity. It made you sick to your stomach. — “Sorry, princess”, he coos, but nothing about the way he gripped onto your flimsy blouse made for a convincing apology. Your eyes narrow at the familiar nickname and his smirk only widens. “Isn’t that what your daddy would say? Princess?”

Hearing the name you treasured so dearly coming from his mouth, the word tainted with his hatred and evil, it made you bite the inside of your lip, hard. “What? Don’t like it?” He hums, his fingers on your shirt loosening, if only slightly as he leans even closer. It was easy to make out the details of his face now, the piercing stuck through the skin of his eyebrow, the area slightly red, as if irritated. The dark charcoal around his eyes, you wondered if he slept in it, probably. You will your gaze to stay locked with his, not daring to glance down at his lips.

“Then what should I call you? Sis? Sister? Little Sister?” He looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter and you wanted nothing more than to slap that disgusting smirk from his face. “I’m not your sister.” You state, refusing to ever be perceived in such a way. — Beomgyu let’s his head fall to the side, his brows raising in a flicker of surprise. “But we’re family now, aren’t we?”

You close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you just pretended that he wasn’t there for an extended period of time, he might actually disappear. But once you reopen them, you find him still watching you, his smirk stretched so wide that he almost appeared uncanny. “You don’t know the first thing about what makes a family.” You let your words linger in the now very thick air, watching with an almost gleeful expression as Beomgyu lets out a small scoff, though leaning back as he lets go of your shirt.

“Quit trying to act like you’ve got me all figured out.” Is all he says, his voice now eerily calm, a kind of calm that makes your blood run cold. — “Then quit acting like such a terrible person, and maybe people would start seeing you for something else.” You mutter, your words not intended for his ears to catch, but they do. His gaze flickers over your body, pressed against the wall in an attempt to create as much space between the two of you as humanly possible.

He shakes his head, his lip twitching as he runs a hand through his long hair. “How about you quit trying to act like you know what makes a terrible person.” — His words leave you silenced long enough for him to make his escape as he heads for the staircase. The last thing you see is his dark retreating figure, the sound of him trudging up the steps filling the house. You slump against the wall, letting out a shaky exhale as you let your eyes fall closed, already dreading the week ahead.

⸝⸝

To your surprise, day one and two went by like usual, with the absence of your father and Ms Choi of course. You and Beomgyu managed to avoid one another just like normal, and whilst you ate dinner downstairs, he always brought his food to his room. Sometimes it was almost as if you were living alone, you had the whole house pretty much to yourself and you often took the opportunity to lounge by the sofa in the living room.

After your fight two days ago, part of you had thought that things might worsen even further between the two of you. But if anything, you’d seen even less of him than you usually would and you think you could count the interactions you’d shared with him on your fingers.

Your whole body feels heavy as your head hits the pillow that night. Four more days, you tell yourself. You could do four more days. All you had to do was keep up the role you’d been playing for the past three days.

And as you lay in bed, you let your thoughts wander, wander to your dad. The two of you engaged in shorter calls every evening. It was a nice distraction from your otherwise plaguing reality. Your father told you about the beach, the ocean and the seashells; he and Ms Choi were staying at a hotel by the seaside for the week, and you felt your heart swell at the excitement in his voice.

“You’ll have to come with us next time!” He exclaimed, the powerful winds surrounding him made his words come out jagged on the other end of the line. Still, you thought you were able to make out the faint sounds of waves crashing against the shore as he walked along the water. — “I’d be happy to”, you agree, a small grin playing on your lips at the thought of going on vacation with your dad again, it had been so long.

Soon Ms Choi joins your conversation, you hear them share a quick kiss before her tender voice addresses you. “How’s Beomgyu doing dear?” She wonders and your smile immediately falters at the mention of his name. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, did she not talk to him, not at all, not once? — In the end, you settle for something for half a lie and half a truth. “He’s doing fine.”

Your dads girlfriend exhales on the other line as she thanks you. “Are you two getting along well?” Your father asks, a hint of suspicion following his inquiry. Even though Ms Choi was quick to defend her son, your dad still seemed to hold back when it came to him, if only slightly. “We’re doing just fine.” You lied, not wanting to address just how awkward things were and how you most definitely wanted them to return home as soon as possible. You wouldn’t ruin your dads shot at happiness just to soothe your own worries.

But as night approaches, the faint glow of the moon seeping through your thin curtains, you find yourself unable to sleep. Though this time, it’s not because of your reeling mind, rather a faint noise coming from the room down the hall and to your left. — During your previous nights, the house had been eerily silent, almost deafening as it added to the feeling of you living there alone. And Beomgyu was not one to play music at such an hour, even though he was likely still very much awake.

With a small frown you sit up, fingers grasping the bed sheets beneath you as you shift on the mattress. It was near impossible to make out any details regarding the noise, only a hushed sequence here and there could be heard and your frown deepens. But your desire for a full night’s sleep quickly overweighs any doubt as you’re reminded of the early morning class you had the following day, and the bed squeaks as you gingerly climb off of it, quietly venturing out into the dark hallway to face whatever awaits you.

You’re able to locate the source of the sound as soon as you step out into the dark hall, and your throat goes dry as your eyes seize the door leading to Beomgyu’s bedroom. — The floorboards creak under your weight, making you freeze as you listen for a shift in the noise coming from his room, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed.

Carefully you creep forward, a hand on the wall to guide you as you near your target. The closer you get the clearer the noise gets, and for a moment you wondered if he was hurt as deep grunt-like sounds slipped through the crack of the wooden door. What would you even tell him? Biting the inside of your cheek, you shake your head. Just yell at him, cause a scene, do something.

Your fingers are wrapped around the door handle when you suddenly stop, your heart practically leaping out of your chest as a small moan reaches your ears. Stunned, you remain frozen in place as you listen to the ragged breathing of Beomgyu, coming from inside his bedroom and your foggy brain slowly pieces together what he was up to. A wave of disgust washes over you, perhaps even embarrassment at having caught him doing something like that.

It takes you about half a minute to snap out of your initial shock, eyes darting back down the hall as you plan to make your escape, because there was no way you were going to let him know that you’d heard him. But just as you turn around to head back to safety, a deep groan makes you halt. “Mhhn fuck”, Beomgyu grunts, his voice muffled by the wall separating you but you clearly catch the ragged moan following the curse.

You thought you could make out something else in the far background, a faint whisper of someone else. He hadn’t brought someone over had he? No, that’s impossible, you would’ve known. And soon the all too familiar and almost theatrical moan of a woman pierces the air.

Teeth latching on to your bottom lip, you stand torn, your brain desperately yelling for you to leave, to forget that any of this ever happened, to not pry further and spare your last bits of sanity. But another part of you, a far more sinister one, keeps your body locked in place, making you unable to move neither forward nor back; forcing you to listen as your Beomgyu gets off to some cheap porn video in his room.

You felt dirty just by hearing him, but the other part of you felt something dangerously close to excitement, your heart thumping unmistakably faster as your gaze flickers back toward his shut door.

“H-ah..” He breathes and you swallow a gulp, sweat sliding down your forehead at the strange feelings swirling inside of you. Your hands clench at your sides, shivers rippling through your body as you hold your tongue, terrified of making your presence known. — He should be ashamed, not you, you had merely passed by, right? So why did you feel so bashful standing here, right outside his room, in the middle of the night, like some creep.

“Mhhn fucking hell”, he croaks and you screw your eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the images playing in front of you like that of an old film. Images of him, his head thrown back, his lips slightly parted, lidded eyes and his hand… his hand wrapped around– “Oh my god”, you breathe, bracing yourself against the wall as your head falls forward. You had to get out of here.

⸝⸝

Disgusting. That’s what he was. Not only a loathsome person but a pervert too. And as you walk down the familiar street, your school bag flung over your shoulder, you think of ways to confront him about his behavior. He was in the wrong here, not you. Besides, your request for him to keep it down at night was reasonable.

The wooden fence gate feels rough under the tips of your fingers as you push it open, your eyes falling on the quaint house before you. The gravel makes a crunching noise beneath your shoes as you near the front door, the lump in your throat only growing in size. — It was such a pretty house, and to think that something so dark resided within its walls made you sick. Still, you unlock the old door and make your way inside.

The familiar scent of roses invades your senses almost immediately and you take pride in the comforting smell, allowing yourself to just stay for a moment. You knew that he was home already, having spotted his car on your way back, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where he was currently lounging at. — Discarding your bag alongside your shoes, you begin the small journey up the stairs, not planning on prolonging the inevitable conversation.

The blaring music fills your ears as soon as you reach the top step and you heave a sigh. You could do this, you wouldn’t back down. — The first knock is petty, weak, barely audible over the heavy bass thumping on the other side. You bite your lip, raising your fist once more, this time you give the wood a harsher tap. But still, nothing. You stand there for a moment, listening to the unfamiliar song playing and you wonder why he felt the need to drown himself in music as vile as that. Perhaps it was to quiet the undeniably gruesome thoughts you could only imagine filled his mind.

“Beomgyu!” You shout his name, knuckles near hurting as they pound the door in front of you. Finally, the loud melody comes to an abrupt halt and you can hear him shuffling about inside his room, the soft padding of footsteps approaching and soon he reveals himself. — He looks the same as he always did, as he always had. Except he looks…different. You think it might have something to do with what you had heard him do the previous night. Because something was different, something was no longer the same.

“What do you want?” He spits, the words sound almost like an accusation and you watch as his brows furrow, dark gaze narrowing down on you. Suddenly, you feel your composure crumble, the phrases you’d gone over in your head so many times on the way back home suddenly diminishing to nothing as you stand before him. Your lips part, for whatever excuse you could possibly find but Beomgyu beats you to the case.

“If you’re here to complain about how you miss your daddy then I don’t give a shit.”

Your mouth closes again, your brows mimicking his frown as you peer up at him. Is that what he thinks of you? Is that how he perceives you? As nothing more but a crybaby who can’t go a day without her father, who sobs herself to sleep in the absence of her mother? — “That’s not why I–” — “Like I said”, he cuts you off, his gaze hardening, “I don’t give a shit.”

The grimace painting your face is surely unmistakable and your fists clench as you swallow back the insults waiting on your tongue. “Well I do”, you say, masking your otherwise trembling voice with firmness as you maintain the tense eye contact. Beomgyu appears, if not surprised then at least taken aback, his lip twitching as he lets out a short huff. He folds his arms over his chest, covering the print on his black t-shirt, seemingly waiting for you to continue.

“I’m here to…to ask you..” You find yourself stumbling over your rehearsed lines, mind fumbling for a way to approach the situation without making it awkward for the both of you. Not wanting him to know that you’d heard him but also wanting him to be aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he’d been up to. — “What I want to say is, please keep it down..at…at night, some of us are trying to sleep you know..”

Carefully you peek up at him, trying your hardest to subtly gauge his reaction. But Beomgyu only hums, his brows raising in play-pretend surprise as he leans against the doorframe. “Keep what down? It’s not exactly like I’m blasting music or anythin’” he muses. You shake your head, “that’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking you to keep it down when…when y-you you know..”

The smirk slowly etching its way to his lips should’ve told you everything you needed to know. That he was just looking for ways to push you further, to rile you up and get you flustered, but for some reason it didn’t, and you kept going. — “When I what?” He wonders, eyes flickering over your guarded stance as you awkwardly shift in front of him, letting your weight fall on one leg. “Come on, you know what I mean”, you practically whine, not caring about how immature and childish you sounded as you avoided actually uttering the words out loud.

“When I jack off?” He asks, his tone nonchalant as his hands slide down the pockets of his already low hanging jeans. You meekly nod, gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks flush with color. “Y-Yeah that…you’re kind of..loud”, you cough, anxiously crossing your arms over your chest as you clear your throat.

Beomgyu seems to be considering your words for a moment, his attention fixed on something behind you as he quietly hums. But then he leans forward, his face landing almost inches from your own and you can clearly see the smudged liner around his eyes now. “And you’ve got a problem with that?” He tilts his head to the side, studying you expectantly.

“Come on now, sis”, he drawls and you cringe, hating how the word sounded on his lips. “You can’t possibly tell me that you’re not twice as loud when you touch yourself.” — The statement made your eyes blow wide as your jaw slacked. Feebly you shake your head in an attempt to deny his accusations. “I- No!” You shriek, taking a small step back as your hands wave in objection. “I don’t– I don’t do stuff…stuff like that..”

Beomgyu’s smirk widens as he watches your apprehensive response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Stuff like that?” He repeats, the sentence sickly sweet on his tongue. “You mean you’ve never played with yourself like that? How dull.” — You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling beyond parched as you shake your head once more. Was that so bad? Did that make you so different? You’d never understood the appeal, never felt those feelings, never even had a boyfriend. It shouldn’t matter should it?

So why did it make Beomgyu look at you like that? Like you had just become something completely different in his eyes, something prized, something desirable. “Really?” He repeats, as if unbelieving of what he was currently hearing. Your quiet “no” is met by an even more menacing smirk as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek.

“Why, your daddy must be real’ proud of you then”, he grins and you feel your stomach twist. — “N-No he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” Because why would he? He was your father, sure you were close but some things were better off kept private. But it seemed no matter what you said could make the hungry look in his gaze go away and you felt your heart rate increase tenfold.

Beomgyu merely scoffs, clearly not buying your truths. “Well then your daddy doesn’t know how much of life his daughter is truly missing out on.” — You frown, straightening your back if only slightly as you regard him with a hint of determination. “I’m not missing out on anything, to be frank, I’m quite happy the way I am right now.” You give a short pause, stopping only to give him a quick one over. “Not that the same can be said for you.”

It feels good to watch his once smug expression morph into a much more scowl-like one as he lets out a short huff. When he doesn’t say anything, you feel a proud smirk crawling its way to your lips and you barely manage to conceal it as you turn to walk back to your room. — Only when you’ve reached your door, does he speak again, and you’re surprised to find him still lingering by his own doorway.

“Do happy people cry everyday too, or is that just you?”

⸝⸝

You’re unable to get his words out of your mind and you spend the majority of the following night mulling over them. “Do happy people cry everyday?” Do they? Was crying necessarily a bad thing? People cry when they’re happy too, people cry for a variety of reasons. Some merely sniffle, some sob whilst others practically scream. Could happiness really be measured in tears or was that just something he’d said to get on your nerves, to have the last word?

You lay tossing and turning in bed, your blanket bunching up around your legs before you eventually kicked it off again. — If only your mom was still around, she would be sure to have an answer, for she always did.. You nod to yourself as you mindlessly fiddle with the bracelet around your wrist.

Perhaps you were over analyzing his words, twisting and turning something completely meaningless for hours on end. But it was the only way you’d be able to feel at ease. You had a habit of trying to understand things on a deeper level, knowledge comforted you. It was why you nearly drowned yourself in your studies, why you spent so much time indulging in literature or film. It was your escape.

Part of you supposed you should have Beomgyu completely figured out by now, with the way you memorized each snarky comment of his. But you never did, it felt like you knew nothing about him yet everything all at once. Maybe your knowledge of him was biased. You’d been quick to snap his picture, to paint a vision of him so sinister that you found it hard to view him any differently. — In your eyes, Beomgyu was a selfish and bad person, a person who did not feel empathy nor compassion for others. And perhaps that was why your theories about him seemed to lead you down the same path each time.

But you didn't think that you were a close minded person… Was there really something you had missed, something you had overlooked? Was there more to Beomgyu than he let on to?

You don’t have to ponder much longer for a quiet knock to your door rips you from the deep thoughts previously consuming your mind. With a small flinch you shot up from your bed, crawling back against the headboard as your eyes trained on the entryway to your room. For a moment you think it might be an intruder, but what kind of thief would knock? — Not only knock but proceed to open the door without waiting for a reply. You only knew one person so unthoughtful.

Beomgyu’s shadow is dark, shielded from the dim luminance of the moon mere feet away from him as he stands in the doorway. One step forward would reveal his face entirely, and you find yourself both longing and dreading for him to move. — Why was he here? You guys made sure to avoid one another diligently so why was he willingly ruining it?

“I can help you.”

His voice is low, but he speaks clearly. A crease runs along your forehead as your brows pull into a frown. “Help me?” You repeat, the confusion evident in your tone as you shift against the pillow behind your back. Beomgyu nods, taking a bold step forward which casts an eerie glow across the side of his face. Your gaze flickers from his intense and dark eyes to his lips, pulled into a small smirk and your stomach drops.

You knew why he was here. Because what other motive could he possibly have? — You had seen the way he treated those around him, you had witnessed the effect he had on his mom as she fell to her knees in tears, the way his words had sliced through you like daggers of a knife, shamelessly cutting your barely healed skin. Beomgyu made things around him die, every touch of his was poison, lethal. And now he had come to kill you too.

It wasn’t like his sudden change in demeanor was unexpected, you knew that he was capable of breaking things, breaking people. He had just never paid you much attention because he thought you were already broken. The death of your mother slowly eating you away as you cried for her each night. — But you can tell he’s had a change of heart, the way his eyes rake across your body, barely concealed by the flimsy pajamas you wore, untainted, untouched, pure. Ready for him to kill.

“I don’t need your help.” You try to evade him off, convince him that you were no object of his affection. But it was impossible. Beomgyu shakes his head, slowly approaching your bed before he takes a seat, causing the cushion beneath him to dip slightly. — “You don’t even know what I’m about to offer you”, he muses, fingers trailing up your exposed leg and you quickly withdraw it, stuffing it beneath the blanket.

“I know that I do not need it”, you bite back, twisting your body as far away from him as possible. He huffs out a short breath, biting the inside of his cheek, seemingly in deep thought. You peer at him through the corner of your eye, lips curling into a small grimace. — “Do you plan on living in the dark forever then?” He finally wonders, his voice a mere murmur and you frown. “I could show you, show you the light”, he hums, fingers drumming against the mattress leisurely.

You’re unable to hide the scoff you emit before turning back to face him. “You couldn’t find light if it so much as presented itself in front of you.” Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at your words, his hand stilling against the bed as his gaze flickers up to meet yours, an underlying twinge of curiosity lingering behind his otherwise cold and emotionless eyes. — “No? And why’s that?”

Your lip twitches, a small grimace of pure disgust threatening to overtake your entire face as you regard him with disdain. “Because something as dark and twisted as you cannot possibly seek light. You repell it.”

The last sentence rings out in the silent air, and you watch as the intrigue in his eyes becomes put out like that of a dying fire. His expression contorted into the one you knew so well, the cruel one, the one that hurt people. “What, and you think you’re some kind of saint?” He jeers, trying to mask where your words had evidently stung. — Were you a saint? Hardly. But you didn’t hurt the people around you just because you could, just because life had treated you unfairly. That was the difference between you and Beomgyu.

“You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with so much vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.”

You remain silent for a moment, watching as he awaits your answer, your next course of action. Was this a bad idea? Probably. You had told yourself over and over that you wouldn’t let yourself get consumed by him, become tainted by his flawed hands. Yet you find yourself reaching for the blanket covering your body, pulling it from your legs as you discard it on the floor. Beomgyu follows the movement with an amused look, an almost wicked one before his smokey eyes snap back to yours.

“Fine”, you say, adjusting yourself on the bed as you let your hands fall to your sides, “show me.” The simple statement makes his face twist into a look of pure smugness and Beomgyu wastes no time in scooting closer, fingers wrapping around both of your wrists as he positions himself before you. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me”, he murmurs, his lip twitching into a sinister grin as he does. It was almost as if your obliviousness spurred him on, your naivety making his mind reel.

His breath is warm on your face as he studies you closely, from the way blood rushes beneath your cheeks to your eyelashes fluttering as you try to focus with him so close. “Have you ever kissed someone before?” He asks, the underlying curiosity in his words palpable. You try to think of any occasion in which you might’ve, but after a good moment you shake your head. “Only once…in middle school, a smell peck on the lips..” You admit, albeit a little sheepishly.

The smirk on his face only widened, exposing his sharp teeth as Beomgyu chuckled. “That doesn’t count”, he states, seemingly pleased with your answer, with your honesty, your trust. Biting your bottom lip, you swallow before nodding slowly. “I’ll show you how to.” He then mumbles, and suddenly his nose is practically grazing yours. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you watch his confident ones.

Then his lips press against your own, and they’re surprisingly soft. At first he remained still, completely unmoving and you wondered what on god's green earth he was doing. But soon he lets his eyes close, one of his hands letting go of your wrist as he cups your cheek. The small caress makes your eyes widen further and you resist the urge to pull back. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you hesitantly respond to the tentative kiss, letting your eyes flutter shut as well.

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, that it was wrong, taboo even. He was your step brother.. at least he was bound to be once your parents got married. Guilt roots itself in the pits of your stomach, making it twist and turn uncomfortably as you try to relax in his grip. — He doesn’t push you any further and it takes you by surprise. Instead he lets his lips linger on top of yours, and when he pulls away moments later, a small pecking sound follows it. You watch through lidded eyes as his narrowed gaze studies you, the hand on your cheek moving to your chin.

“How was it?” He wonders, as if expecting a review of some sort. Your mouth parts but you can’t seem to find the words. How could you describe the shame and the guilt? How could you ever verbalize the way his soft lips had felt on yours, such a thing was impossible. — “It felt weird..” Your hushed whisper echoes out like church bells in your ears and you remain very aware of the way his fingers reside around your chin, locking your face in place.

Beomgyu lets out a short breath, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down as his gaze catches onto your exposed teeth. “First time always feels weird”, he states and before you get to prepare yourself, he dives right back in, except this time he goes straight for the kill. — You let out a small yelp as he pries your mouth open, immediately slipping his wet tongue inside to slide against yours. You can still taste the minty toothpaste on him and the sensation of something so wet and…alive, in your mouth, makes you cringe.

You still allow him to kiss you, to push you back against the pillows as his hands roam your body, his poisonous touch spreading across your skin like wildfire. You knew that this was exactly what he wanted, to ruin something so perfectly pure, to take something from you that you could never get back. And for some reason, you let him. — Only when his hand reaches the waistband of your pajama shorts do you stop him, eyes wide as you push him back.

“Wait.”

The kiss breaks with a wet sound and a small string of saliva still connects the two of you. Struggling to find a suitable approach to the matter, you let your gaze drop to his chest, heaving a small sigh as you bite your lip. “I…I don’t know if…I mean I haven’t..” Honestly you didn’t even know what you were getting at yourself, you supposed you wanted to prolong the moment, if just a moment longer.

Beomgyu regards you with an expression you don’t think you’d ever seen on him before; a mixture of both intrigue and desire. “Are you scared?” He wonders and without thinking, you nod. His lips stretch wide, the hand on your shorts moving to your inner thigh as he gives it a light squeeze and you nearly flinch at the touch. “Good”, he huffs, his fingers venturing beneath the fabric of your pajamas as he gauges your reaction closely.

When he pulls your shorts down, you gingerly try and conceal yourself, your cheeks flushing in all shades of red as your thighs squeeze shut. “Don’t be embarrassed”, he tsk’s, his hands on your knees as he firmly spreads them. — “I’ve seen plenty of pussies before”, he merely shrugs, “yours won’t be any different.” His reassurance didn’t help ease much of your worries as you let him pry your legs open.

He starts slow, and you’re thankful; his index and middle finger gently rubbing you through the soft cotton of your panties and you resist the urge to hide your face as you squirm against him. — It wasn’t like you’d never touched yourself, because you had…you think. Like any other young teenager you’d experimented a little with your body, but as an inexperienced 15-year old, the results had proved futile. You never had the urge you suppose, you didn’t even know how it was supposed to feel like. But as Beomgyu touches you through your underwear, a strange feeling mingles alongside the guilt and shame in your stomach.

His eyes are on you, on only you, watching as you bite your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting with the bed sheets as you try to suppress the small noises bubbling in your throat. Not until his fingers find your clit, rubbing it deliberately through your panties, do you let out a small squeak. “Is…Is it supposed to feel like that?” — Beomgyu’s dark gaze shifts from your spread legs and over to your wide stare. He nods, “does it feel good?”

“Strange..” You quietly whisper, though you made no move to stop him as his index finger hooks around the waistband of your underwear. “Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his time as he slowly pulls the piece of garment from your body, letting it slide along your legs before he discards it on the floor. “You’ll get used to it”, he muses, eyes shifting to your exposed cunt as they visibly darken, “it comes with experience.”

You had no clue what to expect, what to feel, how to respond. Your whole body felt tense as his cold fingers brushed against your naked skin, inching their way up and suddenly it felt like you were under a microscope, every single part of you being presented under a stark light. Beomgyu on the other hand, seems far more at ease as he lets two of his fingers swipe across your cute folds, teasingly pushing them apart as he slowly rubs you.

It takes everything in you not to cringe at the weird and damp feeling pooling between your legs, the consistent throb of your cunt and the small cry you emit as he flicks over your clit once more. He sighs, “virgin pussies are my favorite”, his gaze shifts to his already glistening fingers, “they get wet so easily.” — You merely let out a small whimper at his words, thigh involuntarily twitching, the movement immediately catching his eye as his lips curl into a smirk.

“W-Wait!” You croak as you suddenly feel him prodding against your fluttering hole, your muscles taut as you shift on the bed. Beomgyu stops, hand resting against your core as he studies you with an indifferent expression. “W-Won’t that hurt?” It felt embarrassing to ask, but the thought of him pushing something inside of you…it scared you. — But Beomgyu only shrugs. “It might”, he drawls, his fingers resuming their work on your cunt as he repositions his index one right above the tight rim of muscle, “depends on how bad you want me.”

Want him? You didn’t know if you wanted him, it wasn’t like you liked him, right? You hated Beomgyu, you’d hated him for two years. You hated how he treated his mother, how he treated you, with such coldness and such little empathy. You hated how he made you cry, how he made you feel small and weak. You hated how he made you feel bad for grieving your own mother.

But as your gaze shifts to his face, and as you will yourself to look past the cruelty, the darkness, you can still make out the boy you met that night, the one you’d had a small and what you thought was an insignificant crush on. From the black charcoal around his eyes, to the silver jewelry bored into his eyebrow; his black hair, nearly reaching his shoulders now, and his dark eyes, his eyes that both scared and intrigued you.

You gasp when he without warning pushes his finger past your folds, immediately curling it inside of you, making your back arch off the bed in sheer surprise. Beomgyu’s attention is solely on your flushed face, watching in contentment as you writher under his touch, as you slowly lose yourself. — “O-Oh..” Is all you manage to squeak out between the ragged breaths. It felt weird and uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt, instead the fluttering sensation in your stomach only seemed to grow.

“Such a greedy pussy”, Beomgyu hums as he feels you pulsate around his finger, “sucking me in like a complete whore.” You shake your head, “I-I’m not..” The words die in your throat as he adds he slides a second digit past your tight rim, making you shriek as he stretches your cunt.

His touch felt poisonous but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, to tell him to stop. No matter how many times you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn’t help but slowly succumb to the darkness that was Beomgyu. Wanting, no needing, more. It was as if he’d introduced you to a most dangerous drug, and you find yourself desperately seeking another fix, a stronger one.

Your short nails have torn the bright sheets covering the mattress, and your arms tremble as you lock eyes with him. Satisfactory, that was the only way you could describe the expression painting his face. You don’t think you’d ever seen Beomgyu as anything but angry, but this…this was far from it. He looks ready to devour you whole, his brooding eyes fixating on the way your jaw slacked, your saliva coated lips parted and your eyebrows drawn together in such an endearing manner.

“Feel good?” He wonders, his brow twitching slightly when his thumb presses against your clit, eliciting a high pitched moan from you as you squirm against him. “I’ll take that as a yes”, he drawls and before you know it, his fingers are gone, making a sloppy sound as they withdraw from your cunt. You whine, hips bucking up in an attempt to seek his touch and your cheeks flare up in color. “W-Why did you stop..?” You pathetically wonder, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking that you had possibly done something wrong.

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he brings his sticky fingers to his face, inhaling your scent before shoving them into his mouth. Your jaw falls open in bewilderment, how could he just do something like that so…casually. — “Come on now princess, we’ve only just gotten started.”

Even more?

Your already wide eyes dilate even further, completely forgetting to be angry over the nickname he’d used as his hand dips inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling his hard cock from his briefs. It wasn’t like you were a total prude, you knew what a dick looked like, you just…had never seen one up close. — Beomgyu takes his time as he wraps his fingers around its base, languidly stroking himself as pearly beads of what you could only assume to be precum spilled from the slit on top.

The thought of having that inside of you makes your throat go dry and you shift uncomfortably on the bed. “Come on now, sis, don’t grow shy on me”, he drawls, stifling a groan as his thumb flicks over his tip. The knot in your stomach returns and you shoot him a glare, “I am not your ‘sis’”, you state through gritted teeth. But Beomgyu only chuckles before leaning forward, his face drawing in close once more. With one hand still on his cock, the other one presses flat against the mattress as he hovers in front of you.

“Lie down.”

His sharp command sends a shiver down your spine and you hesitantly comply, awkwardly sliding yourself down between his parted legs until only your head remains perched on the pillow. From this angle, Beomgyu’s long hair falls in front of his face and you resist the urge to reach up and brush it away. Instead your nervous eyes flicker to his cock as he gently taps it against your inner thigh. Your gaze lingers on the way his arousal spills onto your naked skin and suddenly a wave of realization washes over you.

“Shouldn’t we use a condom?” You whisper, biting the inside of your cheek as your attention flits back to the smug expression on his face. “Why? That takes away half the fun”, he hums, letting his tip part your puffy folds as he nudges it against your throbbing clit. “H-ah b-but isn’t it unsafe?” You whine, unable to keep from grinding against him, desperately seeking his touch.

Beomgyu lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching a hand up to run through his slightly disheveled hair. “Don’t tell me you’re scared”, he grunts, his fingers clasping around your chin, pulling your face so that it rests inches from his. Your breath is uneven and jagged as you reluctantly meet his gaze, a quiet “no” spilling from your lips. — He grins, tongue dragging across the bottom row of teeth in his mouth, “such a terrible liar.”

You don’t have time to think, much less act before the head of his cock pushed past the rim of taut muscle as he slid inside your warm cunt, almost immediately groaning at how you wrapped around him so deliciously. — “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He breathes, lips hovering above yours and you weakly nod. The stretch of his thick cock making you go near cross eyed as you grasped at his shoulders. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before and you were sure that Beomgyu enjoyed every second of it.

He had been the first, the first one to get his hands on you, to spew his poison all over your pure and innocent virgin body, and he would make sure to do so thoroughly. His mouth is on your neck, tongue licking at your skin and you cringe away from the action but he doesn’t falter, lips immediately chasing yours as he keeps you in place. The kiss is rougher than the previous, hungry and disoriented as Beomgyu messily jerks his hips against yours. Your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders and his name echoes through in the pristine bedroom as you moan out in pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum right away if you keep that up”, he grunts, fingers digging into your cheeks as he withdraws from your lips. Your eyes widen as you feebly try and shake your head, dreading for him to finish inside. But he doesn’t, instead he redirects his focus to your neck, resuming what he’d been doing as his tongue darts out to swipe across its juncture. You squeal when his teeth graze your skin, the hands on his shoulders moving to his dark hair.

The marks he left on your untouched skin were bound to linger for at least a couple of days, he made sure of that. Reveling in the fact that you’d let him in, let him close, allowed him to take something so precious, something that you had been clinging on to for so long. He would have you, all of you, even if only once, he would be sure to leave an impression.

And you know that you should feel ashamed, feel guilty, dirty even. But something feels different, something about him, about Beomgyu. It’s not the Beomgyu you loathed, the Beomgyu who’d made you cry, the Beomgyu who made you feel worthless. — None of the anger, the hatred, the fire; none of that lingered right now. And had it not been for his sharp teeth on your skin and his rough pace as his cock rammed into your throbbing cunt, the moment might’ve even been tender.

There’s an unfamiliar feeling building in the pits of your stomach and it had long since overridden the previous shame and guilt. Unsure of what to make of it, you desperately tug on Beomgyu’s hair, eventually making his head raise from your chest with a small frown, the liner around his eyes even more smudged than usual now. — “I’m…I…” your face turns beet red as you stumble over your words, not knowing how to express yourself.

He licks his already wet lips, his pace momentarily slowing and you whimper at the discomfort soaring through your body. “You close?” He asks, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. You open your mouth only to close it again, nodding sheepishly as your hands twist in his hair. Beomgyu groans as he lets his fingers slide down your stomach, reaching where your bodies connected like one, middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly as he watches you arch against him with a broken moan.

Your first ever orgasm felt out of this world, your cunt clenching around his cock with such vigor that you thought you might cry, a string of incoherent and high pitched whines ripping from your throat as you pull Beomgyu close, and for the first time, you’re the one initiating the kiss as you slam your lips on his. — He groans into your mouth, letting you slide your tongue against his, albeit a little awkwardly as you had no clue of what you were doing.

Finally, as your climax comes to an end, you find yourself relaxing against the mattress, the fingers in his hair loosening their grip as you allow yourself to kiss him slowly. — “F-Fuck princess”, he grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. You respond by eagerly raising your hips to meet his, wincing at how sensitive you felt as his cock twitched inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, wait”, he breaths, tearing himself from you as he swiftly pulls out with a small hiss.

In your euphoric state, your eyes drift to his hand wrapped around his shaft, quickly jerking himself off as his gaze fixates on your wet cunt. Then he notices you, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he reaches for your wrist, “come here”, he urges as he guides the flat of your hand to wrap around his cock. — Blinking, your attention flits between his expectant face and his heavy dick in your grasp as you contemplate your next move. It wasn’t like you’d ever done something like this before but it looked easy enough when he was doing it.

With determination you begin to carefully stroke him, biting the inside of your cheek at the squelching sound erupting as his arousal smeared across your fingers. Beomgyu’s hips jerk forward and your movements stutter. — “H-ah, fucking hell d-don’t stop”, he groans, his jaw slacked as his eyes tightly squeezed shut. A quiet “sorry” slips from your lips and your pace returns as you work to get him off.

“F-Fuck go a bit faster, yeah?” He mutters, his hand joining in on top of yours as he ups the intensity. Merely following his command, you grip him tighter, drawing a strained moan from him as your fingers drag across his tip. — It made you feel oddly powerful, seeing him like this, his otherwise indifferent face completely flushed, and instead of presenting himself with a mean scowl, he looked to be in complete bliss as he let his head fall back.

A final twitch of his causes hot liquid to spurt from his throbbing cock, the white substance coating both your hand and lower abdomen. He heaves a sigh and you feel him slowly go soft in your hand before you pull it away. Beomgyu runs his fingers through his hair, parting it before letting his arm drop back down, his gaze landing on the mess on your stomach. He tsk’s spreading the sticky fluid across your skin. “What would your daddy think if he saw you like this, hm?” He murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his cum-coated fingers to your face.

You shake your head, without the waves of pleasure sparking through you, the shame and the guilt suddenly crawled right back. “I- I don’t want to talk about him..” You whine, trying to force the image of your father out of your mind. — “His beautiful princess, completely ruined by something so…what did you say I was? Dark?”

Without warning he pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, making you cringe at the salty taste of him. “I bet your daddy would hate you forever”, Beomgyu finally states, watching as you frown, lips closing around the digits in your mouth. — And when he finally withdraws them, you splutter, “my father doesn’t hate me, but yours seem to do.”

Beomgyu’s jaw twitches, his lips curling up into a small scowl and the desire previously filling the air slowly simmers out. You knew that he wanted you to feel just as miserable as he did. But you wouldn’t let him, you wouldn’t let him get to you like that. — Half expecting an insult thrown your way, you’re surprised when he merely tucks himself back into his sweats, rising from the bed as he regards you with dark eyes. “Fine, keep living with such fantasies and we’ll see just how long it takes for them to get crushed.”

Without as much as another word, he leaves your room, the door slamming shut behind him as the small house falls under an eerie silence once more.

⸝⸝

Your parents came home two days later, and though you wanted to say that things had changed between you and Beomgyu after your…night together, it was safe to say that they hadn’t. At least not on his part. You on the other hand, couldn’t get the feeling of his hands off of your body, it was like he’d permanently imprinted himself on your skin. It feels disgusting, and you had spent three hours in the shower the morning after, vigorously trying to scrub the venom from your system. But it never worked, his touch lingered like that of a tattoo, forever sealed onto you. You could never take back what had happened that night.

For some reason, a small part of you doesn’t want to.

Beomgyu avoided you, and when he wasn’t avoiding you he was glaring. His dark and piercing eyes followed your every move whenever you were in his field of vision. But there was something else too, a sense of superiority. — He knew that you were constantly dealing with the consequences of that night, he could see the way your mind haunted you with the memories, and he took pride in watching the shame and the guilt practically eat you alive. — He was on top of the world and you were scrambling to even get by.

So one could easily imagine your surprise when one evening, you found him in a state you never thought you’d ever get to witness.

It was late, but your small family had yet to eat dinner, and you watched as Ms Choi darted across the kitchen, in full with preparing your meal. You helped her set the table as you laughed at a couple of your dad’s terrible and overused jokes. It had taken a whole of three days for you to be able to look him in the eye after he’d come home, and you still felt terrible whenever you caught him and Ms Choi sharing a kiss; knowing that one tiny slip of your lips could manage to ruin something so perfect.

You trusted that Beomgyu wouldn’t utter as much as a single breath about what had transpired that night, but you still startled when his mother taps your shoulder, whipping around as you come face to face with her. — “Dear, do you mind fetching Beomgyu, dinner’s almost ready”, she smiled, that warm and comforting smile she so often gave her son, only to receive a mere huff in return. You nod, slowly making your way out of the kitchen as you head for the hallway, dreading having to speak to him, much less in private.

The steps creak under your weight as you drag yourself up the stairs, drawing out the moment for as long as possible before you inevitably reach his door. With a small sigh, you knock. There’s no music coming from the other side and you frown, what’s up with him? — Another knock, but nothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, a wave of frustration crashing over you at the thought of having to call out for him.

“Beomgyu?”

A third knock. You wait for at least a minute but there’s nothing, just silence. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep, still, you should wake him and let him know that dinner was ready, Ms Choi had asked you after all. — Your hand is near trembling as you grasp the handle, twisting it before pushing the door open. Slowly adjusting to the darkness of his room, you peer inside. But to your surprise, he wasn’t there.

Your footsteps make a thumping sound as you hurry down the stairs. If he wasn’t in his room then…Your gaze flickers toward the dining room and kitchen before settling on the front door. “Did he mention anything about going out?” You call out for Ms Choi and she soon appears in the doorway, a bowl of salad in her hands. “No, is he not in his room?” She wonders, her face quickly falling.

Noting her worried expression you quickly shake your head as you try and reassure her. “I’m sure he just went for a walk, I’ll go check.” — Your dad’s girlfriend gives a small nod as her gaze, too, flickers toward the door. “Alright..”

⸝⸝

The cool night air hits your face and you mutter a few curses under your breath, scolding yourself for offering to do something like that when the last thing you wanted was to be out in this cold. — As you walk down the graveled path you let out a tired groan, what were you even thinking coming out here? It wasn’t like he was just going to magically appear or something. Fucking asshole, had the nerve to leave without a word and now you had to go looking for him.

But as you push the small fence gate open and turn out and onto the street, a familiar scene flashes before your eyes. Nostalgia fills your every fiber as your eyes fall on Beomgyu’s figure, perched on the sidewalk as he hugs his knees to his chest, just like he had that night, that night two years ago. — But something was different. That night, the one where you had learned to hate him, it had been a warm night, and Beomgyu had been burning with rage. Today, the air is much colder, and Beomgyu is no longer on fire, instead he’s shivering, his whole body quivering as small sobs escape his soft lips.

You freeze at the sight, breath catching in your throat as you regard his almost pathetic frame, curling in on itself as his fingers dig into the flesh of his calves. Part of you wants to leave him there, perhaps even make fun of him, it was most tempting to finally get back at him for the way he’d ruined you. — But you weren’t Beomgyu. And you wouldn’t do that.

Instead you find yourself slowly approaching, and just like that night two years ago, you slide down next to him on the cold pavement. He doesn’t seem to register that you’re there, and you sit in silence for a brief moment before addressing him. — “Beomgyu?” — His head jerks at the quiet whisper of his name, his usually narrowed eyes wide in shock as they flicker over to you. His cheeks are wet, stained with his tears and the liner around his eyes had run down his face in messy streaks. A few strands of hair stick to his forehead and his lip trembles as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” He croaks, but his voice comes out weak and raspy. His hands wipe at his face, but it only spreads the mess already there even further and he lets out a frustrated groan. — You don’t say anything, because last time you tried to comfort him you only ended up getting hurt. Instead your gaze flits to his discarded phone between the two of you. The screen was broken, likely from him smashing it on the asphalt beneath. You frown as it suddenly comes to life, vibrating against the hard ground. The bright screen illuminates the dim street and your eyes land on the caller-ID.

“Dad.”

Beomgyu doesn’t make a move to answer, merely turning his head away as he continues to sob into his arms. “Don’t”, he mutters as he sees you reaching for the device, “he’s drunk.” — You purse your lips but your fingers still clasp around the phone, your thumb swiping to decline the call. Upon being presented with his lockscreen, you can make out at least another fifteen missed ones. Your chest churns at the scene, for whatever reason, you do not know. The bright light vanishes as you power off his phone completely, tossing it to the side as you stretch your legs out in front of you on the pavement.

It takes him about a minute to lift his head from his arms and his breath is still uneven as he speaks. “What does he want?” — Biting your lip, you gaze ahead, tracing the outlines of each car parked down the street, memorizing their plate numbers. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you remained silent. Beomgyu shuffles next to you, mimicking your movement of unfolding his legs. “I bet he wants money..” He then adds in a snarky tone, wiping his face once more as he snivels, “money to sponsor his fucking addiction.”

You throw a quick glance in the direction of his discarded phone. “Why do you still have his number?” It was obvious that he didn’t like his father, so why let him bother him like that. Beomgyu shakes his head solemnly, his fingers twisting against one another as he opens his mouth only to close it again. “Wouldn’t it be better to block him?” — “I can’t.” He suddenly exclaims, turning to you with a small frown.

Why not? Why let something like that plague you, why not just cut it off, why not just let go?

It was then you realized that perhaps you and Beomgyu shared a lot more than you’d initially wanted to admit.. Your eyes drop to the bracelet around your wrist, the silver glinting under the moon. — When your attention returns to him, you find him already watching you, his gaze following yours as it resided by the jewelry on your arm. You think he might make another comment about it, but he doesn’t, instead he merely sighs as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I think..” You begin, your voice a quiet whisper as you stare past him, eyes drifting off into the distance as you let the words roll off your tongue. “I think you’re stuck on what could’ve been rather than what you have.” Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, his gaze mindlessly dropping to his hands in front of him as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What I have”, he mutters with a small frown, clearly not intended for you to hear but you did.

“You have your mom.”

He scoffs, already anticipating your next self-victimizing rant about how yours was dead. “My mom is-”

“A wonderful person.” Your statement catches him off guard and his attention shifts back to your face as he studies you with a look of wariness. “And you would see that if you spared her more than a glare”, you continue as you watch his skeptical expression. — You had never felt anything besides hatred for Beomgyu, and you had been so blinded by your rage that in a way, you had become almost exactly like him. But as you finally take a step back to view him completely, his disheveled frame, his slumped shoulders and runny makeup — pity washes over you, the same pity you had felt on that night two years ago; the night everything went wrong.

“Stop holding her accountable for his mistakes.”

You can see the twitch of his face at your words, as if he wanted to refuse them, to lash out on you, but he didn’t. Instead he looks to you with the most sorrowful look you’d ever witnessed on him. — “How do I do that?” He wonders, his voice is thick, laced with his previous tears. Biting your tongue, you hold back from saying what you thought he wasn’t ready to hear but Beomgyu clings to you, his hands wrapping around the fabric of your shirt, his grip near trembling.

“I miss my mom.” He whispers, his voice breaking as a lonesome droplet falls down his cheek, slicing through the dark smear of charcoal on his face. Your jaw falls open, stunned by the way his resolve so suddenly crumbled. And as you heard the words leave his lips, “i miss my mom”, you could practically feel every single one of his emotions as they washed over him in thunderous waves. — You missed your mom too, you missed her terribly.

He hiccups, his tears creating a damp spot on the shoulder of your shirt. “H-How do I get her back..?” The question comes out muffled as he grips you tightly. “Please…I want my mom back.” — Your eyes sting and you feel yourself slowly losing your composure as you draw in a ragged breath. With a small push of your hands, you manage to create some distance between the two of you, enough to where you could see his wet face, his glossy eyes and swollen lips.

“You have to let him go.”

You reach for his phone, powering it back on. Beomgyu looks hesitant as he wipes his eyes, exhaling shakily when you extend the device to him. “The longer you let him ruin you the more you and those around you will suffer.” — With wobbly fingers he grasps his phone, slowly finding his dad’s contact info. He wavers, thumb hovering above the block button as he bites his bottom lip.

You don’t know why you felt the need to help him, why you felt like you had to comfort him, reassure him. — “You’ve said it yourself haven’t you? Some people don’t deserve children.” His gaze flickers up to meet yours at the statement, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Don’t let him have that privilege”, you say as you let your hand rest on top of his.

Beomgyu slowly nods, reluctantly pressing the dreadful button as he erases his father from his life. He purses his lips, breathing out through his nose as he stares at the screen for a minute, as if contemplating his next move. — “He’s gone.” He finally states, the frown on his face only deepening as he swallowed thickly.

“Sometimes it’s better that way”, you mumble, letting go of his hand as you lean back, your gaze dropping to the bracelet around your wrist.

Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, blood rushing through your body as you reach for the small lock, carefully unclasping the piece of sacred jewelry. Beomgyu and you…You weren’t so different, you think. And if he could do something, something like that, then who says you couldn’t?

His eyes are on you, watching intently as you with shaky hands let the bracelet fall from your skin, feeling oddly empty without it. — It feels light in your hand, and you wondered how something so significant could weigh so little. It made it easier to let go. — Beomgyu lets you grab his wrist, the frown on his face creasing further when you tie the silver around him.

“Now she’s gone too.”

You give him a small smile, meeting his wide eyes as they shift from the bracelet around his wrist and your relieved expression.

It’s without thinking that you lean in, softly pressing your lips against his in a small kiss. But this time you didn’t feel guilty, nor did you feel dirty or ashamed. Instead it felt nice, it felt like closure. Letting your eyes flutter closed, feeling his warm and damp skin against your own, a stark contrast to the cold night surrounding you. Beomgyu lets you kiss him without protest and you feel the faint caress of fingers to your cheek.

When you pull away he chases after you, only to be stopped by the palm of your hand on his chest as you shake your head. “It’s not like that. You know it too.” Your soft whisper makes his jaw clench, his fingers dropping from your face as they curl into fists. Then he nods, the corner of his lips pulling upwards, “yeah.”

Gingerly rising to your feet, you dust some off the dirt from your jeans before your attention returns to him, still perched on the sidewalk. — Your outstretched hand is met by the raise of his eyebrow and you roll your eyes, “come on, I think there’s someone who would like to talk to you.” Beomgyu frowns but takes your hand nonetheless as he lets you pull him up.

You walk like that, hand in hand, and it feels nice. Your heart sinks a little at the thought that it could’ve been like this from the start, had things worked out differently. But as you turn to walk through the small fence gate, and your eyes fall on Ms Choi, anxiously waiting by the front door, you find yourself smiling. And instead of grieving what you could’ve had, you would focus on what you did have.

Beomgyu audibly swallows next to you as his gaze surveys his mother, and as Ms Choi notices the two of you approaching, her face lights up. — With a final squeeze of his hand, you let him go. It was satisfactory in itself to see him walk up to his mom, letting her wrap her arms around him for the first time in what you could only guess to be years. But they both made it look so natural as they fell into each other’s embrace. And it only confirmed what you had known for so long.

That Beomgyu was and had always been, a mommy’s boy.

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glorystark · 5 months

Text

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

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meggtheegg · 11 months

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FNAF Movie Theory...

I'm pretty sure there's still one major plot twist in the universe of the movie that's been set up for a sequel but hasn't actually happened yet. Heavy spoilers under the cut:

After watching the movie in theaters and then revisiting a few scenes on Peacock, I'm still kind of convinced that Mike Schmidt is Michael Afton.

Here's my reasoning. A lot of the characters spend time acting like they know something the audience/other characters don't, and those things are...mostly resolved. But some of them just...kind of aren't.

The main thing that sticks out to me is William's whole storyline. Starting with the scene where he offers Mike the job, his behavior is almost explained by the movie's logic. He sees Mike's name, seems...kind of deeply upset, looks at him very closely, stands to get coffee, and has a moment of visible internal conflict. Then he instantly offers him the Freddy's job. The way the movie frames this, it seems to be saying that he recognized the name of one of his victims, realized this was the kid's brother, and decided to kill him right then and there. Which is passable as an explanation, but it has a lot of holes, if you look deeper.

Why would William so instantly recognize a fairly common last name as the brother of some kid he killed that wasn't even anywhere near Freddy's? Why did he kidnap/kill Garrett in the first place, in some random forest in Nebraska? Why did he see the name on the file, then immediately stop and examine Mike's face so closely, when Mike's memories/dreams pretty clearly show that they never saw each others' faces when Garrett was taken? Why did he send Vanessa to "keep Mike in the dark" if he purposely gave him the job to get him killed? Why not have the animatronics kill him right away? He didn't know that Mike was searching for the man who took his brother, and while he could have maybe guessed he was still actively haunted by what happened based on Mike beating up a guy that he thought was kidnapping someone, it still feels like a weird choice to go and hire him, then just have him do the job with no issue for a few days.

As for Vanessa, we see that she's been cleaning up William's messes for years. Why is Mike the one she changes her mind and stands up to her father for? There's no implied romance between the two and no particularly meaningful connection beyond them both having family issues. I guess she cares about Abby because she's a kid, but kids getting hurt clearly never stopped her from helping her father before.

And, on a more meta level, this is Scott and his storytelling style we're talking about. The man puts plot twists inside of plot twists and everything always ties back into the Aftons, somehow.

So, here's my theory: I think that Mike is William's kid, but Mike's mom left Afton when he was young and remarried the man that Mike thinks is his father.

It seems convoluted and maybe cliche, but if it's true, then suddenly there's an answer to all of those questions. "Michael Schmidt" isn't exactly an eye-catching name, unless you had a kid named Michael and your ex-wife married a guy with the last name Schmidt. Garrett's kidnapping, then, becomes an act of intentional, petty revenge rather than an extremely random coincidence. Giving Mike the job and sending in Vanessa suddenly becomes about piecing together how much he knows and figuring out if he's worth trying to reconnect with or is just a threat that needs to be killed. (It feels worth noting that William is as far as I can remember the only person to call him Michael in the whole film. He also very pointedly never says "Schmidt" until he's decided to kill Mike and suddenly announces his full name out loud. If he went by Michael as a little kid, that is what William would default to calling him, but if he took the new husband's last name, that would be like like salt in the wound that he wouldn't want to voice. By finally saying it out loud, it feels like he's making the decision to fully separate himself from Mike.)

As for Vanessa, if Mike is her brother, it makes sense that he would be the person she'd turn against William to save. It would be weird for her not to tell him, but she could also be trying to protect him, in some way. There's never any mention of her mother, and it seems like it's just been her and William for a long time. Also, ending the movie with her in a coma feels like a strange narrative choice, but it makes sense if she knows information that's purposely being kept hidden for the sequel.

Of course, it could just be that the movie has kind of messy writing and I'm trying to fix it because I want there to be a deeper reason for it. Maybe there is no Michael Afton in the movies, or maybe he's off chilling and doing his own thing somewhere and we'll see him in the sequel. Only time will tell.

#fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's spoilers #michael afton #mike schmidt

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smusherina · 5 months

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yard work - chapter 12 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her. warning(s): a homophobic character saying some homophobic shit. listen, it's set in 2004 it was inevitable.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 13

"So..." Gretchen drawled from the passenger seat. "You're still not doing the dance with us?"

Regina glanced at her. "No."

"Cady's taking the lead." The brunette said, very badly acting as if she wasn't looking for a reaction. Regina resisted the urge to bite back, to defend her honour, and kept her eyes on the road.

"Great." She said, voice tart. "She's doing the stunt, is she?"

"Yup." Gretchen's breath hitched. "She's, uh, got it nailed down."

A mean smirk spread her lips. "Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it."

Gretchen swallowed. Regina spied from the rearview mirror Karen was watching the scenery pass by dreamily.

"What's up, Karen?" Regina asked.

"The sky!" Karen stated proudly. "And birds, I suppose. Hold on..." She felt up her boobs, pulling at her nipple obscenely. "Ouch. Yeah, it's gonna start snowing soon."

Regina, knowing the forecast had promised much the same thing, hummed. "Gonna have to stay in, then."

Gretchen shifted her weight on the passenger seat. She seemed uneasy. Both she and Karen had been severely late to arrive at her car today and had seemed... Dodgy. Regina could hardly blame her, though. Things had gotten weird recently.

She wasn't being nice. Not exactly. She'd just, kind of, dialled it back a little. A year ago she'd have spent the days leading up to Christmas break making the rounds, spreading nasty rumours about this and that, ensuring everybody's holidays were ruined just the right amount. This time, she'd forgone that.

A part of it, a large majority, was due to the Thanksgiving fiasco with Jorts. Another, smaller part, was because she was tired. She just didn't want to.

Arriving at her house, Regina parked and stepped out of her car. Gretchen and Karen followed her inside where mom greeted them with mugs of hot chocolate. Fancy chocolate and skim milk. Regina pointedly left her mug on the tray.

As she was going up the stairs, she noticed neither Gretchen nor Karen had grabbed a mug.

"Take them." She gestured vaguely back to her mom. "Don't be wasteful, girls."

Making her way up leisurely, she relished in the sound of the two girls scrambling to grab their mugs and then follow her as fast as possible. She might've loosened her hold on the student body, but Gretchen and Karen she'd keep. She didn't care if it was immoral or something, she'd done a lot of work to get them where they were.

"Shane Oman's doing a Christmas party this Friday," Gretchen informed them as they settled around Regina's room. "There's talk he's specifically invited Doris Harris."

"Who the fuck names their kid Doris Harris?" Regina scoffed and inspected her nails. She'd have to get a new set soon. "Are you going?"

"What? You- you're not?" Gretchen sputtered.

"I have... Plans." Important, top-secret plans. "Shane Oman is a sleazebag and a womanizer. Doris can have him." She said airily and looked at the two girls sitting on her floor.

"What plans do you have?" Gretchen probed. Karen looked on, seeming to be in her own world. Little specks of snow were beginning to fall outside.

"Private." She left it at that. "Who are you bringing to the party?"

"Probably Jason." Gretchen sighed. Regina's face twisted.

"You're still with that douche?" She sat down cross-legged near the two. "Why?"

"Oh, do you think I should break up with him?" Gretchen looked between her and Karen, seeming lost. "I can do that."

Regina rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe she'd put a little too much work in these two. They were old enough to think for themselves.

"Look, Gretchen..." She closed her eyes. "I'm not gonna say sorry. I'm, uh, just not going to." She didn't tack on the yet that meant to crawl up her throat. Too much too fast. "However, it's becoming apparent that my usual methods are no longer as effective. Exhibit A, Cady Heron."

Gretchen stared at her. Then, her head tilted to the side like that of an inquisitive dog. Karen was gaping at her, having probably not comprehended a single word. Regina sighed.

"Look, I'm not gonna just waste my time and energy putting people down anymore!" She was feeling way too defensive and the others hadn't even said anything. "I might, like, join a sports team or something for senior year. Focus on myself."

"Wow." Gretchen breathed out. "So, you're just gonna step down?"

"I'm still Regina fucking George. I'm not gonna stop being me." That being a vicious bitch with a lot of hate in her heart. "I'm just saying that it's getting old."

"Why? You- you can't just stop. That makes no sense. Someone's gonna take you over, like- like Doris Harris!" Gretchen took several short breaths, this close to hyperventilating. "Doris Harris is going to be the new Regina George!"

She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head rolled with them. "That statement contradicts itself. If she's the new Regina George, I'm still on top. The original."

"You sound so alike." Karen smiled. "You two are so cute. True love."

"Karen!" Gretchen snapped, sounding like a chihuahua. "Shush!"

"Who sounds alike?" Intrigued, Regina leaned forward. "Me and who? True love?"

"Oh, uh..." Karen looked to Gretchen, who was trying (and failing) to subtly shake her head, and then to Regina whose eyes bored into hers. "Uhhhhhhh..."

"She's rebooting." Regina huffed, leaning back. "Gretch, I just... I don't care anymore."

It had been a startling realization. Not a quick one despite the one eureka moment that'd brought it all together. There were things more important to her than maintaining a hierarchy in high school. It still was important, to a degree, but well. If she had to pick between one-upping some random girl at a shitty party and date night with Jorts, the choice was entirely too obvious. It was going to be date night every time.

(If she even had that privilege anymore. She's called her slurs, for fuck's sake. She could only hope her apology would be good enough.)

"How can you not care?" Gretchen screeched. Karen sipped at her hot cocoa nervously.

"I just don't." Something like this, not caring about something, wasn't a decision she could consciously make. At least, not entirely. Once you stopped caring, you just did. That was that.

It wasn't easy, though. She didn't have the strength of will to be deliberately mean to everyone, every single day, but she would not tolerate people stepping on her toes. If somebody encroached, she wouldn't hesitate to bring them down. Where the line went, distinguishing between a serious threat and a general nuisance, was the hard part.

Letting go of the instinct to just be mean was a challenging hurdle.

"She's changed you. All this time, you've been talking to her, haven't you? J, Jorts, whoever she is. She's corrupted you." Gretchen sneered. "What happened, Regina? Or should I say, Reggie?"

Regina looked at her friend, minion, accomplice- whatever.

"Excuse me?" She said, so quietly it could've been mistaken for a whisper.

"You heard me." Gretchen's sneer dissolved, old instinct to cower kicking in. "Reggie." She hissed, a feeble attempt at keeping her power.

"What the fuck do you know about J?" Regina could feel herself grow cold, anger mixing with panic, mixing with visceral, palpable terror.

Of course, all that manifested as blind fury.

"We know plenty about J. You've never shut up about her. Y'know, I used to think she was an ex-boyfriend of yours 'cause of the way you talked about her. And now, it all makes sense." Gretchen spread her arms provocatively. "Because she's gotten into your head, used her sticky, lesbo fingers to mix you up. Snap out of it, Regina. This is not who you are."

Anger roiling in her stomach, she was about to release pure acid onto the dimwitted, insensitive, stupid girl, when Karen spoke up.

"Gretchen, you're being stupid." She said so lightly. Both of them turned to look at Karen. She was watching the window, looking immensely pleased with herself. Yet another correct weather report.

"What?" Gretchen breathed out.

"Stupid. That's stupid. I didn't know you were, like, homophobic." Seeming to focus, Karen turned to face Gretchen. "I think I told you my brother's gay."

"Oh." Gretchen deflated. Regina didn't know what she should do. "Well, that's different, he's a guy! Lesbians are totally different."

"How?" Karen, more engaged than Regina had witnessed her be in a long time, kept her eerily wide eyes trained on Gretchen. "How is it any different?"

"Listen, everybody can do what they want with... Whoever, like, consents, but it's different when they shove their beliefs in people's faces." Regina, quite astounded, didn't know what to say. Karen did, though.

"J didn't shove anything in our faces. I don't think she shoved anything in Regina's face." She put her finger to her chin. "Unless they're into that sort of thing."

"Karen..." Regina sighed.

"Anyway, I think your opinions about gay people are weird, Gretchen. You should look into that."

"My opinions are just fine!" Gretchen's shoulders rose all the way up to her ears. "You guys are the weird ones! It's not like I hate gay people! There's just, y'know, healthy concern. If it was so easy to turn Regina then what can they do to impressionable little kids?" Gretchen licked her lips nervously. "What about Kylie?" She asked, looking to Regina for sympathy or agreement or something.

By that point, Regina had checked out.

"I don't think Regina's changed. Not really." Karen's owl eyes turned to her. "She's just... Shedding. Like a snake. Getting a new skin." She dragged her eyes up and down. "Yeah. New, shiny scales. Like a blonde, human green tree python. My dad has one. A snake one."

"Thanks," Regina said, tone flat. She then turned to Gretchen. "Get out."

Her hands trembled. Rage or fear, she couldn't tell where the tremor stemmed from.

"Regina, this isn't right-"

Just the sound of her voice made her blood boil. Her eyes stung too, but she refused to feel anything but anger.

"What isn't right is that you're still in my house. J is my childhood friend and the assumptions you've made about her are life-threatening. People are killed because they're gay, Gretchen. She hasn't turned me into anything, much less something you're insinuating." The claim that Jorts had turned her into a lesbian was false. If there were to be a claim about Regina's sexuality alone, then the answer wouldn't be so clear. "Get your fucking act together. I'm too good to bother with high school politics. We're going to college in two years. Stop being so small-minded and do something with your life for once."

She heaved in lungfuls of air. She stood up abruptly, walked to the door and pointed down the hallway.

"I-" Gretchen tried to say something, but Regina just reiterated her point.

"Out!"

She didn't particularly care that her friend (ex-friend) didn't have a ride home. She didn't care that she was a bigot, that Gretchen was right about her and Karen being the weird ones. She didn't care that Jorts had definitely changed her in some way.

As soon as the brunette had scuttled down the stairs, the front door slamming on her way out, Regina slumped against her door. She didn't care. She did not care.

"So, is it just us, now?" Karen asked from her spot on the floor. Regina was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since she plopped down. "Is J gonna be our new friend?"

"I don't know, Karen." She buried her face in her hands. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to care. "I didn't know Gretchen was like that."

"Hmm." Karen hummed. "I didn't know you weren't like that."

Her head snapped up, looking at Karen. Her expression was unreadable, like a book with blank pages.

"I... I'm scared, Karen."

"Yeah. My brother's boyfriend is from Alabama and he's been beat up before 'cause he looks gay. And he is gay, but the earring gave it away, I think. And my uncle died of AIDS and my family don't really talk about him and we weren't allowed to see him. My aunt that's in New York's been living with her best friend of, like, thirty years for forever and I went to visit one time and they had only one bedroom."

That was perhaps the longest, most coherent sentence Karen had ever said. Too bad the subject was so grim.

"Wow, Karen. Sounds like your family's full of..." What could she call them? Her mind defaulted to nasty slurs. "People like that."

"I guess." She smiled faintly. "I hear them crying sometimes, in my brother's room, when they're home for the holidays. Mama says I shouldn't go up and snuggle them until they feel better. They're having a moment." Karen looked confused at that. "Are we having a moment?"

Regina slowly unfurled from her slump against the door. "Maybe."

"Oh. Okay." She accepted easily. The familiarity of the scenario had a smile creeping back to Regina. "My brother smiles the biggest when me and his boyfriend team up against him at board games. My mom cries when we visit my uncle's grave. She tells us stories about him and shows us pictures. My aunt has three cats with her bestie and they call them their children and they wear matching rings."

"That's really sweet, Karen." Regina, now smiling in earnest, shuffled closer.

"I don't really get it." She said in the same light tone she'd use when talking about schoolwork. "Like, my brother's boyfriend is really nice so I don't get why people beat him up for dating my brother. And I think it was really mean that my grandma didn't let mama see her brother when he was sick. And my aunt and her best friend already live together, have cat-kids, and kiss on the mouth, so why can't they get married for real?"

Regina stared ahead, more than a little floored. Gretchen, simultaneously surprisingly and unsurprisingly, was a homophobe. Regina knew the political climate and knew that being openly gay was social suicide, and sometimes literal suicide, but she hadn't expected someone so close to her to be like that. They hadn't talked about it much, to be fair. Besides, Regina wasn't much better. While she might've not been a real homophobe, as in actually subscribed to the ideology, she'd done plenty of homophobic acts.

Whether or not in the name of projection or denial didn't really matter. Janis 'Imi'ike had been the first girl she'd subjected to hate crimes and discrimination, but not the last. How many times had she shoved other girls under the bus so she could get off scot-free? How many times had she done it for a twisted sense of fun?

Too many, was the easy answer. Not enough, whispered the scared, hidden thing in the back rooms of her mind.

And Karen was an ally. A supporter of the cause. And unexpectedly well-spoken when she had something she liked to talk about.

"Karen, I like girls."

"Me too!"

Regina's heart beat like a drum. She was beginning to sweat.

"No- I mean, like, I'm... A lesbian. I guess."

"Okay!"

She snuck a glance at the other girl. She was peering mournfully into her empty mug.

"Like your aunt and her best friend." She took a deep breath. "I like girls in that way."

"Uhh, duh," Karen smiled at her, beamed, really. "J is your true love."

"I wouldn't go that far." Regina sighed but had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. At the same time, a knot tightened in her chest, like hiccups trying to escape. She threw her head back and puffed out a breath, blinking rapidly.

"Let's go get more hot chocolate and I'll tell you about my talent show performance." She wiped discreetly at her eyes and extended a hand to Karen.

"Hot cocoa!" The girl exclaimed as she pulled herself up with Regina's help. "Ouuuhh, what kinda performance?"

"A song." Regina guided them down the hallway. "For her."

Obviously, she had more than just a song planned. A proper apology, for one, was in the works. Karen didn't need to know about that, though. That was between her and J.

Notes: Boo I lied it's not the last one. I thought it would be! I was wrong! I did start rambling like I kind of predicted in the notes of the last chapter. Or, like, I felt the ending would be a little too abrupt without some downtime. So have some Regina POV!

Will no longer be making predictions about when the end is. I'll only be contradicting myself lol. But like, the arc is coming to a close, a natural end is coming. And then the epilogue things.

Praying to god the taglist will work. Trying a new method today, fingers crossed! Hand-typing every single fucking name, no commas in between names, the utmost technicalities. This is the night fellas, the night we've been waiting for.

Edit: it didn't work. in fact, it worked worse than the other times! fuck! put another version of the list, back with commas, and it seems to tag some people but not all. gonna have to do some scouring on the internets.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment so on this post! beware it seldom works. i try my best.)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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moodymisty · 3 months

Text

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Inspired by this conversation. I'll be making one that takes place while Reader is alive as well, but the one where you aren't just got finished first. Enjoy.

Warnings: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader, Major character pseudo-death(Reader), Worship, i don't know consider this a sort of writing practice type thing for me

Guilliman finds himself having to hold the vile taste in his throat down, as he looks upon the scene in front of him.

...He remembers you.

He remembers the friendly smiles you gave him, and he remembers the smiles you would reserve just for Sanguinius. He always wondered what Sanguinius found worthwhile in being with you; In managing his legion, the expectations put on him by the entire galaxy, The demands of the Emperor, and a relationship with you. But then he would spot the way Sanguinius would look at you, like you were everything he had ever hoped for, and Guilliman would feel a twinge of something. He never quite figured out what it was.

And now you're here. Dead.

At least Guilliman would've wished as such, but instead you lay in an eternal state of unrest much like he was, not too long ago.

Sanguinius had once voiced to him that he was worried his sons would idolize you much like they did him. They were already beginning to towards the start of the Heresy; You'd become less of a person and more of a ideal, an extension of Sanguinius' own supposed anglicism. Sanguinius had found it distressing. He didn't want them to blindly follow something because of a holiness put on them. Sanguinius could handle that sort of thing, persuade those thoughts away and order them to stop, but you couldn't. You weren't meant to.

Guilliman had appreciated him confiding in him at the time, but hadn't offered much to soothe his worries. Perhaps that had been a mistake. He remembers exactly where they were, how the sky had looked. And each time he remembers it, he wants to yell at his past self to say something; To spurn some sort of action and prevent this.

"She still looks the same,"

The primarch mumbles, remembering your face in the last snapshot of his mind. Your skin had been pallor, you were falling ill, but you still soldiered on. You had to. While you had given most logistical and battlefield duties to Chapter Master Raldoron after Sanguinus' death, you still held significant sway in the chapters rituals and other types of decision-making. They wouldn't allow you to divert those duties, the anglicism they had put on you had begun to grow and grow even back then, wearing down on you like a disease.

Sanguinius' genesons had nothing less than the utmost respect for you, which Guilliman had watched morph into the thing that Sanguinius had feared the most. It wasn't his place to step in, so he never did.

The glass coffin which holds you does nothing to hide a single thing, displaying you and the delicate lace gown you lay in. It was the dress you'd worn when you married Sanguinius, and Guilliman doesn't know how to feel about it. The sleeves do well to hide the tubes and machinery that digs into your wrists, deep into your lifeless veins. They keep your body psudeo-alive, he presumes, to stay off decay.

However it seems it's drawing blood out, which he finds interesting. Though he doesn't have the time nor the desire to dwell on why such a thing would be needed.

"You remember The Mother Angel?"

Dante is more composed than most of the other Blood Angels, but Guilliman can still sense the awe in his voice from the primarch's eyes having touched their Mother Angel in life. He stands across from him, having decided to show Guilliman this sacred place.

"Her name, It was,"

Guilliman can't find himself to say it.

"I remember her, yes. Quite well."

Dante stands in reverence as if he's waiting for Guilliman to continue.

"I remember her voice, her face; I remember her wedding. I remember her putting Sanguinius' fallen feathers in her hair and dancing a fool." He clears his throat before continuing. "She lead the Blood Angels for a decade after Sanguinius. Then she fell ill. I always respected her tenacity and ability to lead a legion of Astartes despite her limitations."

Guilliman feels regret. He wishes he would've said more to Sanguinius when he'd voiced his worries, perhaps it would've spurred more action to prevent this outcome.

Sanguinius was the only one of them to find love, and look what happened; You got desecrated by it. Perhaps Corvus and Fulgrim were right to abandon the prospect all together. It seems to bring nothing but horror in the end. The only one of them to find love and that love got turned into it's own hideous creature, completely removed from what it had stood for.

His brow furrows, and he purses his lips in preparation to speak words that he just ends up swallowing.

"This, this is..."

Guilliman cuts himself off. He knows he shouldn't say these things in these chambers they call hallowed, in front of their Chapter Master. he needs Dante, he needs the Blood Angels more than he needs to protect a promise he never made in the first place.

"What, Lord Guilliman?" Dante urges him on, curiosity on his face.

"With all due respect, Master Dante," Guilliman looks to him, face stoic.

"If I were to say how I truly felt about all of this, I imagine you would no longer be willing to lend even a single man to assist the Ultramarines."

Dante looks at him confused, but doesn't show anger regarding his implications. Guilliman can see his lips twitch, eyes flickering down to your glass coffin for a moment.

But Dante just doesn't see it, and Guilliman knows it.

You've been like this for thousands of years, none of them see this as anything unusual. Generations of Blood Angels have been reared on you being this deity, the wife of an Angel, and there is no possible way to raise them out of that. What is done is done.

Guilliman is the only one seeing it as something wrong, as he is an outsider.

"Now, what is it you wished to discuss with me, Lord Dante?"

Guilliman changes the subject and turns away from the centerpiece of this cathedral, only allowed entry by the most elite of Blood Angels. He attempts to forget your body is even there, as there isn't a single thing he can do about it now.

He hopes Sanguinius will have mercy on him, next they meet.

#sanguinius x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 11 months

Note

never have I played any nights at Freddy fazbears

pls explain the whole plot and all lore to me as if I were small and slightly stupid

oh great timing i literally JUST explained this to my asoue discord

this is a VERY simple summary, but things to keep in mind while reading:

very very VERY little of this is directly spelled out for us. the creator, scott cawthon, LOVES to confuse people on purpose and the vast majority of the lore is gleaned from hidden minigames, secret cutscenes, and easter eggs. this makes things very confusing and controversial within the fanbase, so im gonna try to explain where there are differing opinions

really, there's two main stories: the first main story was completed with FNAF6 and Ultimate Custom Night, the story going on rn is the second and it is still ongoing. as such, a lot of the lore is still a mystery to all of us.

For clarity's sake, I will divide this between: THE AFTON STORY, the one the movie's gonna tell a part of, and THE GLITCH STORY, which the games are going through

dont worry i will make it fun to go through so it doesnt feel like school

ok lets go

THE AFTON STORY

First, let's get a visual chart in here. don't worry it's just for show

These are the important families we will be talking about; the Emily family, with father Henry and daughter Charlie, and the Afton Family, with father William, two sons (Michael and a boy who is still unnamed, he might get named on friday? We call him Crying Child "CC") and a daughter, Elizabeth. Don't worry about the mothers they're not important

Okay so here's the thing: of these four children, all but Michael die VERY early on in the timeline

The problem is we do NOT know THE ORDER each of them died. There's a lot of arguments on all sides but I personally think the order is sad boi->charlie->baby so imma present it in that order. But keep in mind that we don't actually know because of the confusing way the lore is dropped.

okay so for starters.

Backstory/FNAF4

purple guy is william afton and he and this guy vcalled henry start opening a restaurant chain starring freddy fazbear

in the original location they've got two animatronic suits, fredbear and spring bonnie. the other location has freddy, bonnie, foxy, chica

the og location suits are ~special~ tho, bc henry and william are crazy inventor dudes. these suits are called "springlock suits". they function as full animatronics but you can wind all the wires and gears and endoskeleton and shit back and step into the costume yourself. only problem is the safety is jackshit and if you like. cry or sweat or breathe wrong the springlocks will fail and the metal will come crashing back and crush u to death. u should have enough time to get to the back room so u dont bleed out in front of the customers tho. springlock suits are important remember those

michael is in his early teens and has just learned how to be a shit to his siblings and is trying out this hot new bullying thing. he's picking a lot on CC because CC is terrified of the freddy animatronics. it is said that he "saw something" that scared him, it could be anything as benign as "saw someone go into the suit and got freaked out" to something as serious as "saw one of those aforementioned springlock failures and person bleeding out." could also be charlie or elizabeth's death if those happen earlier in the timeline. again we dont know bc cawthon likes to confuse us

CC is not scared of the freddy characters tho, he has all the plushies and calls them his friends. he's just scared of the animtronics. unfortunately his dad works there so he has to be there like 90% of the time so he's having a wonderful time. hence the moniker "crying child". bc he cries all the time

anyway at his birthday party, michael decides it would be really funny to shove CC up into the animatronic's mouth for kicks. this goes about as well as you'd expect cause the mouth closes and fuckin. crushes his head

kid goes into a coma for a while but eventually flatlines. while he's in the coma we hear michael tearfully apologizing, and his fredbear plush talks to him (presumed to be william) saying he will "put him back together"

anyway that was fun. so next up charlie emily gets FUCKING MURDERED

Backstory/FNAF1-2

for some reason charlie gets locked outside the pizzeria. william's driving by and decides to stab her bc why not

honestly most of us believe that this occured after CC just bc it gives william motivation to be pissy at his business partner and kill his kid abt it, but also a book that released a month ago implies that william might have been nightmare gassing his kids for shits and giggles so. who knows. dont worry about that btw its not relevant rn

anyway the thing is willie and henry had an animatronic designed to protect the children called the puppet. the puppet sees charlie outside and goes out to help her but it's raining so it fries up the puppet's circuits and it crashes on top of her dead body. cheery!

except this is where it gets wild bc charlie proceeds to like. possess the puppet

possession is really complicated in this universe but basically there's no real way to communicate openly with people and the possesser might not even be aware of who or where they are or anything really but. yeah the lil girl def possesses the puppet

its after this that william starts killing kids for funsies. a lot of us presume that he saw the puppet getting possessed and was like "holy shit a way to bring crying kid back" but again he might've just decided this was fun

anyway he lures five kids into the Secret Freddy's Backroom That Is Not On The Maps by wearing the spring bonnie costume. after killing them he shoves them into the other animatronic suits (freddy, bonnie, chica, foxy, fredbear "golden freddy") and yeah they start gettin possessed

the fifth missing kid was stuffed in fredbear and here's where it gets veeery theoretical cause we dont have straight confirmation of this but just some theories. it's VERY likely that crying child was also haunting fredbear at this point, and shoving another kid in there got two kids haunting the same bitch and it causes fredbear (golden freddy) to be really fucking weird and glitchy and eldritch or w/e. anyway you dont have to worry about that rn cause golden freddy doesnt show up much they're too busy ascending or smth

now this is where the lore gets confusing-- the first game claims that after the last two were lured, someone was caught on camera, arrested and charged. however we know for a fact willie-boi wasnt caught so either 1) this got retconned when cawthon decided to actually make lore, 2) he wasnt convicted and somehow still kept a hold on the fazbear empire during this, or 3) a lot of us theorize that henry was framed for the crimes and thats why he disappears from the timeline until the sixth game. cause yeah he disappears from the timeline until the sixth game. personally i believe the third it makes a lot of sense but yeah willie-boi stops killing at about five kids

anyway will is going full scientist with all these animatronics and he's like. ripping parts off them and putting them on other animatronics to see what happens. we THINK. again this is really vague but this is just kinda the most logical explanation here.

anyway this is what happens in fnaf2 and what it does is like. split the souls and shit. and he's like "oh this is sick" except this makes all the suits act erratic as hell and very angry towards adults (theyre cool with kids tho) and eventually one of them causes the infamous Bite of 87. we're not entirely sure what it was but one of the animatronics bit off the frontal lobe of someone in 1987. this caused this location to get shut down and willie boi just puts the pieces back on the og animatronics and is like "well shit what do we do now boys"

FNAF5: Sister Location

anyway so this is where we think elizabeth dies in the timeline. william makes these things called the "funtime animatronics"-- we know they are made after a fnaf location shuts down, though it's not specified which. these animatronics are built SPECIFICALLY to kidnap children. ballora is built as a distraction for parents, the other two are built to only move when not seen, and then Circus Baby™ has an arm that can grab kids and drag thtem into her until willie lets em out. she is programmed to only do this when a child is alone in the room so william tells elizabeth "do not go see baby when you are alone in the room"

so elizabeth is like 6 and she goes to see baby when she is alone in the room and baby grabs her but the arm is fucked up and the kid dies p badly

funtime's location is then immediately closed due to "gas leaks" and william rents out the funtimes for parties. at the same time he starts shoving some haunted parts into the funtime animatronics to see what happens. we THINK.

important location here btw is the "scooping room." it's actually very good horror but basically it's a bitch that is supposed to rip the endoskeletons out of the suit whenever theyre malfunctioning. super smart idea that will cause no nightmares going forwards.

anyway the animatronics all kinda know that william killed them so after a while (a few years??? who knows) they start trying to kill him and he's like "hmm. i cannot go into this bunker anymore. let me send michael, my last surviving kid who i hate." this is where michael, now an adult, re-enters the timeline.

mikey boy is told by his dad that he can bring his baby sis back to life if he goes down into this bunker and does some shit. michael is like "oh sweet" bc honestly he probably still feels guilty about literally killing his bro and so he goes down to the bunker.

the animatronics eventually tell him "go into the scooping room it'll be totes mcgotes" and when he gets there he finds out that the animatronics have killed all the other employees, scooped themselves, and fused their endoskeletons into one conglomerate called ennard

ennard is like "yeah we cant escape here cause they just bring us back so we're gonna use you as a skinsuit k thnx" and they scoop him and use him as a skinsuit

it's really good horror i promise

BUT this turned out to be a bad plan because Humans Decay so after like a week ennard gets puked up by the MikeSuit and escapes into the sewers.

here, meanwhile, is where mike pulls a reverse uno card and possesses his own decaying corpse

LIKE A FUCKING BADASS

he then calls up his dad and is like "hey dad :) elizabeth's fine now :) BUT :) they fucking killed me :) because they thought i was you :) you sure sent me down here to die huh :) anyway :) im gonna come find you :) you have a ten minute head start start running :)"

actor really fucking sold that monologue too ngl

so he's like. PISSSSSSED and rightfully so he is walking around in his own corpse. so he goes to find his dad

Backstory/FNAF3

this is about when peepaw willie goes back to the original fnaf location (we THINK) and is like "ok im just gonna take apart all the animatronics and do something with these"

only when he destroys the suits the missing kids' ghosts show up and spook him. so this guy who's been studying ghosts is like "oh fuckshit there's ghosts here" and tries to hide in the spring bonnie suit. only he laughs and this causes the springlocks to malfunction and FUCKING VIOLENTLY KILL HIM. get springlocked idiot

except then HE possesses the spring bonnie suit and this is springtrap. but also he's in a super secret back room while this happens so he is trapped there for a while

FNAF6

so ennard, michael and william are fuckin around for a couple years. at some point ennard decides that elizabeth is kinda a freak actually and kicks her out of the hivemind so she just rebuilds herself a circus baby suit and keeps wanderin around so now we got four bitches doing who knows what

eventually it's been 30 years since the last freddy's closed and someone opens up a haunted house parody of it. mike goes to work there as a security guard* and guess what they found springtrap and bring him to the attraction thinking he's just an animatronic. after five nights of fucking with him mike sets the place on fire to try and finally kill his dad fr. it does not work

*note that this isnt confirmed to be michael but we kinda. all know it's probably him. it really seems to be him

anyway then michael finds out that an actual fazbear's is opening and needs an owner so he goes and becomes owner of the restaraunt. while some guy on a cassette tape is giving him tutorial instructions he sets up the place and also collects several animatronics. these are:

scraptrap (peepaw post-fire and really pissed)

scrapbaby (elizabeth now thinking that maybe if she kills things her dad will pay attention to her)

molten freddy (remains of ennard still not entirely sure what's going on)

lefty (a bear solely built to capture the puppet, who was still fuckin around the fnaf2 location i guess. anyway now the puppet is here thats important)

so after our five nights scrapbaby comes on the speaker system and is like "omg dad if we kill people will you love me. we're gonna kill soooo many people it's my passion actually" and that's when the cassette tutorial guy interrupts her

and he just goes "yeah. you're not doing that"

anyway he's like "hi guys. you remember me??? henry??? from 30 years ago?? i owned half this business? you killed my daughter and stuffed her soul in a puppet? lmao yeah i literally lured you all here and you came like the fucking idiots you are. im setting the place on fire, we're all gonna die and go to heaven. except for YOU, WILL. you are not going there. lmao bye" and he sets the place on fire and they all burn. it's more epic when he says it tbh

now henry mentions that he had an escape route ready for the building owner but he figured out the owner was michael and was like "i feel like you wanna stay and burn with us" and michael's like "fuck yeah"

you might think that wraps up the story nicely but OH NO THERE'S MORE

Ultimate Custom Night

see, the next game is ultimate custom night where you can choose which animatronics hunt you and their level of difficulty. it is through hidden messages and shit that we find out that ucn is, canonically, william being tortured in hell. which is sick af

anyway the tormentor is a spirit labelled "the vengeful spirit" in the files, and "the one you should not have killed" by the animatronics. we sometimes hear either a light voice behind the other animatronic lines (could be either a woman with a light voice, a little girl, or a little boy), and the pic that sometimes shows up as a hallucination is a distorted photo of scott cawthon's son. we know for a FACT this spirit is someone from the fnaf6 fire cause they reference the fire more than once while poking willie with a stick. it's probably not elizabeth cause she was just tryin to get her dad's attention. it's not charlie/puppet bc one of her lines is like "ffs just stay out of my way for ONCE." we also know for a fact it's not henry cause they were like "henry sure tried to release us huh. not happening im not letting you go that easily bitch haha" so that narrows it down to michael and the missing kids

now here's the thing.

the vaaaaast majority of the fandom is convinced that the vengeful spirit is cassidy, the missing child that was stuffed inside golden freddy with cc. this is because golden freddy is in a looot of ultimate custom night and if you beat the hardest mode you just get a quick cutscene of him glitching and then everything fades to black

however. i have seen legiterally no convincing evidence that this is the case. all we know about cassidy is she is the golden freddy missing kid and was talking to cc through the logbook. and we BARELY know this. in the alternate universe book she first showed up in (the silver eyes) she wasn't even the golden freddy kid. people point out a similar situation to her and cc in fazbear frights where one of the kids was tormenting william (stitchwraith) but that's literally a whole separate universe and completely separate characters with separate backstories and personalities

there's a sprite in security breach who fights glitchtrap (explained below) who was named in the files as "cassidy" so ppl point to that but 1) they changed that name after people made a deal out of it, 2) that could mean literally anything, 3) the protag of the next game was named "cassie" and her story kinda paralleled the sprite's first game so uuhhhh anyway

honestly i think it's WAY more likely the vengeful spirit is mr michael "i'm going to come find you and set you on fire twice" afton, using his childhood likeness to fuck with his dad. this is strengthened by one of the easter egg cutscenes in ucn, where the vengeful spirit talks to a benevolent spirit who tells them to "leave the demon to his demons. there is nothing for you here." the audio in the background is someone distortedly screaming "HENRY" and "MICHAEL"

one of the animatronic lines also says "is this a prison for you or for me? perhaps both" implying that the vengeful spirit feels like they belong in hell, which would fit with mike's "i killed my brother" self-loathing. the golden freddy glitch could very easily be his mental anguish as well as william's, with the optional cutscene telling us that while michael is self-harming by torturing his dad in hell, he has the ability to move on and find peace if he can forgive himself. honestly i really like that open ending there

another point towards "vengeful mike" theory is that we play as him for most of the games (definitely 5 and 6, most likely 1 and 3, some theorize 4) and so him being the vengeful spirit is way more emotionally impactful than "random kid #5"

however every time i bring this up to the fnaf fandom they get really really pissy at me because y'all love ur angry lil girl cassidy headcanons and honestly that is completely fair i also love angry lil girls. im just saying this bc we're going over whats canon rn and i firmly believe in vengeful mike (thank @birdsareblooming for that) but yknow. cassidy is also fun as hell

i wrote a whole essay on this btw these are just the cliffnotes. do you guys wanna see the essay

anyway that's where the afton story ends but OHHH NO MR CAWTHON CANNOT STOP

if you just want a quick catchup before the movie you can stop here but anyway. let's talk mimicry

THE GLITCH STORY

the games coming out recently are kinda a sequel-story and bc theyre still coming out we are still very confused about what the fuck is canon and what is not so this one will be a lot more guessing. i digress let's talk about

Help Wanted

so back on earth, it's the 2020s-2030s. turns out the fazbear company is still functional and they're like "well shit guys what the FUCK do we do about all of That"

so they decide they need a brand cleansing and what they do is they secretly hire an "indie game developer" to make the fnaf games in-universe, to make light of the tragedies and make people take them less seriously. they pretend to have beef with this indie dev but eventually put all of his games into a VR game as a show of "good faith." somehow this actually does work in revitalizing the brand image

also sidenote but the books imply that the indie dev was kidnapped and gaslit into making the games but thats not important

now see there's a glitch in the game and the beta-tester jeremy mentions it and then gets increasingly withdrawn and obsessive. because it turns out there is a Bitch in here

now. the identity of the Bitch is uh. controversial in the fandom rn. i will say for clarity that i am in Party Two and will probably be biased towards that but here's the thing. the Bitch is either:

a digital upload of william afton's soul (somehow escaping hell)

THE MIMIC

Help Wanted Interlude: The Mimic

see, the other books (silver eyes, fazbear frights) are set in a parallel universe-ish to the books, similar rules and worldbuilding but cawthon can fuck around all he wants with no consequences. there were charliebots and springtrap mpreg at one point it was nuts. but the thing is right now they're kinda trying to tell us that the current series, tales from the pizzaplex, is game-canon. god only knows if they'll stick to that so some people think the books are in the game's universe, others think they're parallels to the games and not 1-1 exact much like the others

but anyway they give us crucial lore on The Mimic so here we go

some guy named edwin (some think he's a parallel to henry or william, but rn we're just gonna assume he's canon) is a single dad to a toddler. however he's working for fazbear making all these animatronics and he's sooo busy and needs something to distract the toddler so he creates a fucked up nightmare animatronic called The Mimic, whose programming is extremely basic: "copy whatever you see being done"

the toddler actually loves the fucked up nightmare animatronic and teaches him to play patty-cake and carry around stuffed animals or w/e. anyway then the toddler runs out into the street and gets hit by a car

edwin is still grieving and the mimic comes up carrying the toddler's stuffed animal and still copying him and when the mimic that edwin programmed to copy things is still copying things edwin snaps and just beats the fuck out of it bc he needs a grief outlet. he then abandons the thing but however the mimic has just learned Violence

some employees come by to see where edwin's animatronics are and the mimic just starts killing all of them bc. well. it's supposed to copy things. it will copy things

there's a BIG GAP here in what happens to it next but it disappears for the next 30 years. however it is heavily, HEAVILY implied that it witnessed at least one of the missing children incidents

fazbear actually has a Lot of mimic endoskeletons but bc they start copying violent shit they shut them all down. however they all run on the same program, "mimic1" and fazbear keeps that tech around cause you know it could be helpful

Back to Help Wanted

now here is where the "we only THINK this is canon we dont knkow yet" comes in

back to the vr game, they are just shoving random old pieces of code in there to speefd up the process of making the game cause capitalism doesnt like long development times. this puts the mimic1 program into the program and it immediately sees All Of Afton's Crimes In 4K. it decides "oh yeah i can mimic this but i should probably get a physical body in order to do that"

so beta tester jeremy sees the mimic program, which takes the form of Spring Bonnie Suit. this is Glitchtrap

now keep in mind that some people do still believe that all this aint happenin and the spring bonnie glitch is just william. again i personally believe the mimic cause it makes more sense than "william escaped hell somehow" but w/e

anyway, glitchtrap is fuckin around. it tries to possess beta tester jeremy and in order to stop it, jeremy does the sensible thing and cuts his own face off

so glitchtrap is like "hmm. that didn't work out" and decides to go for the more subtle approach. the next beta tester, currently unnamed, starts recording tapes inside the game to send to the next beta tester so they dont fuck with glitchtrap. glitchtrap however seals itself inside the tapes so that when the beta testers try to delete it, it'll instead be inside the tapes and cant be removed lmao. it then "mimics" tape girl's voice and adds a last tape saying "let him possess you its ok i promise"

it also mimics her intro of "hello can you hear me" in the one time it speaks so. mimic

anyway the next beta tester is this gal named vanessa and she gets possessed like suuuper quickly and glitchtrap is like "oh fucking FINALLY"

Security Breach Therapy Tapes

vanessa's acting weird at work so company requires her to go to therapy, however she has the same therapist as Another Patient. this patient will be named later however right now we're calling them Patient 46. they do not talk but have the same therapist as Vanessa and is creepy about it. anyway whenever a therapist prods too much into either Vanessa or P46's life, or discovers them fucking with fazbear tech, the therapist mysteriously goes missing and shows up later dead and mangled by machinery

they go through like five of these bitches at least, but it's clear P46 is another bitch possessed by glitchtrap but they're like more possessed than vanessa is so glitchtrap likes them better

BUT THAT'S ALL BORING, WE'VE GOT A PIZZAPLEX NOW!!!

Security Breach

fazbear opens a giant 80s-style mall with a ton of attractions like disneyland or w/e and call it the Mega Pizzaplex. There's state-of-the-art animatronics in here that are basically sentient ai. they might be possessed but we're not actually sure rn they might just be advanced robots

they start with "glamrock" freddy, bonnie and chica, along with roxy wolf instead of foxy. we're not sure why rn. anyway at some point something suspicious happens and bonnie is found mangled and he's replaced with montgomery gator, a c-list animatronic they had to run the golf course. he doesnt seem to take the spotlight well and has started breaking things but its probably fine

anyway they eventually realize they can automate the staff and stop paying human beings and they jump on that cause they love cutting costs. they've got staffbots everywhere except for ONE person- vanessa, who is hired as the security guard. we find a note saying that her interviewer found her too inexperienced for the position, but someone "very" high up in the company pushed her into the role. this is implied to be glitchtrap taking over the systems

so vanessa and P46 are shoving glitchtrap into the systems because, well, guess what? the pizzaplex is built on top of the fnaf6 location. the one where henry set them all on fire, and they're trying to do some sort of shit with the burnt remains of springtrap. if you believe in william!glitchtrap he's trying to get his body back; if you believe in mimic!glitchtrap he's trying to fuse himself to afton's corpse in order to gain a corporeal form. it also helps that there is The OG Mimic Endoskeleton in this area (its explained in the books im not going into it) but it's pretty fuckin damaged so they gotta spend some time fixing it before fusing it with peepaw's corpse

but the night they're supposed to do that, something goes wrong: a child is loose in the pizzaplex

glamrock freddy had a malfunction onstage, and when he wakes up in his room, there is a child hiding in his stomach compartment (used for oversized piñatas and cakes). this child is named gregory and he looks suspiciously like the crying child and we dont have an explanation for that but no, matpat, he's not a robot, it's probably just symbolism

anyway gregory actually has like very little memory of what's going on and barely remembers his own name but he says that vanessa the security guard is trying to fuckin kill him so he needs to get tf out of the pizzaplex. freddy's like "well you're shit out of luck cause the doors close and seal until 6am but that's fine we can make it til then" and gregory's like "fucking JOY"

long story short gregory has to run around the pizzaplex while every animatronic but freddy is trying to kill him. freddy is not trying to kill him bc his malfunction caused him to enter Safe Mode and it turns out that Safe Mode is safe from the glitchtrap virus. everyone else, however, gets glitchtrapped and is trying to kill this kid

you dont find out why until like laaaate in the game and even THEN you're confused until one of the goosebumps-knockoff short stories confirms a thing, and that thing is:

gregory is patient 46

oh shit

turns out gregory was possessed by glitchtrap for FUCK knows how long and was used as its body for like the entire time. and when he eventually wakes up un-possessed (no idea how that happened) he has no memory of whats going on at ALL and is understandably fucking terrified. doesnt remember being possessed or killing ppl or anything he just wakes up and runs. glam freddy likely malfunctioned cause glitchtrap was like "oh my god go GET that stupid kid" and glam freddy was like "but???? protecc????" and entered safe mode

so gregory eventually fuckin DEMOLISHES all the other animatronics and uses their parts to upgrade freddy. freddy is like "hey where'd you get these parts" and gregory's like "uhhhhhhhhh dont worry about it" "hey where are my friends" "DONT WORRY ABOUT IT"

while this is happening, a possessed vanessa is in a bunny suit calling herself vanny and also trying to kill him. this is just as confusing to us as it is to you

anyway there are six endings to security breach. according to the most recent game, there is a chance that two of them are canon. WE DO NOT KNOW which of the two is canon. these are the endings:

Princess Quest Ending: greg and freddy try to confront vanny and she gets freddy ripped apart by staffbots. gregory then finds an arcade game in her room and plays and beats it which sets her soul free (presumably he knew how to do this cause he's remembering bits and pieces of being possessed??? idk). anyway once the game is beat she is unpossessed and takes gregory and freddy's decapitated head out of the pizzaplex

Burntrap Ending: gregory and freddy avoid vanny and go to the fnaf6 basement where freddy starts acting all fucked up and then thtey find the Springtrap corpse, now Burntrap (fused with the mimic? glitchtrap? yknow). it tries to kill them so you have to Boss Fight everything and then set him on fire again. THEN a tangled mess of animatronic wires with a funtime freddy head (remains of ennard???) shows up and drags him off. again, just as confusing for us as it is for you. freddy and gregory escape. no idea where vanessa is

ONE of these is canon. we do not know which. this is making the fanbase super chill and normal /lying

Evidence for Princess Quest: in ruin, we see a headless glamrock freddy in the exact same area he is in pq. we also have no sign of vanny trying to help glitchtrap. you can collect gregory's fanart of his own game and pq is the only one he didn't draw. princess quest arcade game has sword sticking out of it

Evidence against Princess Quest: aforementioned headless freddy is labelled a prototype on his foot and we know for a fact that our freddy does not have that stamp. he also has a gift inside his stomach when freddy gave his stomach gift to gregory already (and it was a diff color). the pq arcade game has sword sticking out of it BUT that could symbolize the princess being skewered, and surrounding the game is art of the escaped glitchbunny

Evidence for Burntrap: labelled as "true ending" in the files, only ending to be FULLY animated instead of switching to comic form and also only one with boss fight, the tangled animatronic mess is definitely canon (we see it, gregory draws it so he saw it too which means he went in the basement where it was), while vanny isn't seen her grafitti is everywhere and appears to be recent

Evidence against Burntrap: the "true ending" label, like cassidy, could mean literally fucking anything. also if vanessa is still under his control why the fuck doesnt she help him where is she

so yeah we're having fun figuring THAT out

Ruin (the end so far thank god)

the most recent game we got, then, was the dlc for the above game, this dlc is called ruin. a few months after this, a lil girl named cassie wanders into the ruins of the pizzaplex cause her best friend gregory told her to meet him there. when she gets there she finds a walkie-talkie and he's like "girl im trapped under the pizzaplex you need to shut down the security and come get me" and she's like "sounds great"

she finds vanny's mask and puts it on and enters an AR world where a glitched bunny is trying to kill her (this one isnt glitchtrap actually) and a friendly little AR bear is telling her to keep going she's doing a great job (this one IS glitchtrap probably)

anyway it turns out her backstory is her dad worked for the pizzaplex and she had a birthday party there with her Favorite Character Roxy and literally none of her friends showed up. she was sad about it until gregory showed up and became her friend. then gregory went missing and she was sad

anyway the last security node is favorite character Roxy and roxy recognizes her and is nice to her and its very sad

cassie eventually goes down to the fnaf6 basement and is like "ok gregory i opened the door are you okay" and PSYCH, IT'S NOT GREGORY

IT'S

THE

MIMIC

youtube

the mimic immediately tries to kill her bc it likes violence but roxy shows up to save her. the real gregory calls her on the walkie-talkie and is like "bITCH GET OUT OF THERE" and she's like "IM TRYING" and gregory's "friend" (whose pronouns are very specifically blurred out, so it could be either freddy or vanessa) uses the building maps to help her to an elevator. however when she gets in the elevator gregory's like "yeahhhhh sorry we cant let you be followed :(" and drops the elevator, trapping her there

it's like a 99% chance this last bit was not gregory but it was the mimic, seeing as gregory is not even in the pizzaplex and the mimic lost cassie right next to the elevator fuse box that it could easily rip out. so you know

anyway we end with either roxy finding cassie or the mimic using roxy's voice finding her so this kid's fucked lmao

also other questions about if mimic is burntrap is that we see the mimic p naked in this game and not in a fun corpse skinsuit so where did bunny go??? however i will also mention that there is a secret ending that shows us that the FUCKING SCOOPER is here so. personally i think that answers that question. get scooped idiot

oh also if you noticed "hey 'cassie' sounds a lot like 'cassidy,' the golden freddy kid who was sharing a body with the crying child, who has a similar design to gregory," congrats! we've noticed that too! we have no fucking idea what it means! :D

and thaaaaat's five nights at freddy's

that didnt take too long did it

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #mine

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idyllic-ghost · 5 months

Text

title: To Choose A Mortal Life

pairing: Vernon x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship

warnings: mentions of having a bad day

synopsis: you've just finished watching your favorite film trilogy, and Vernon has the nerve to insult your favorite character.

wordcount: 1k

taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang

rating: PG 13

a/n: yes, this is self-indulgent leave me alone. got this thought last night and had to write it out this morning, so this is for all of the nerds and vernon lovers who follow me

join my taglist

masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Vernon looked over at you as soon as the credits rolled, a content smile on his lips. You, on the other hand, were gripping the edge of the blanket like your life depended on it - tears staining your cheeks as you sniffled. Although he didn't mean to, Vernon couldn't help but laugh. It was quick, barely noticeable really, but you heard him. You whipped your head towards him with a glare that could kill a man.

"I'm sorry-"

"Why are you laughing?" you whined. "That was beautiful!"

Vernon let out another laugh as the tears came rolling down your cheeks again. The two of you hadn't been sitting far apart, but for the sake of your well-being, Vernon moved a little closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Babe," he whispered, "you've already seen this movie... a lot."

"Because it's good! You think so too, right? Why aren't you crying?" you whaled, and Vernon couldn't help but laugh again.

"I've also seen it-"

You buried your face in your chest, and Vernon grinned as he wrapped his arms around your frame. His unwillingness to cry only made you more upset. It was cute, really. Then he saw a name on the credits that he recognized and something he had been trying to figure out clicked.

"Oh. Now I remember where I've seen him before," he said, referring to earlier in the movie where he had tried to figure out one of the actor's filmography from memory. "He's that guy in the second season of Stranger Things."

Your sniffles stopped, your body stopped quivering, and Vernon knew he had said something wrong. He let you go as you tried to get out of his grip, and when you looked at him you were met with a cheesy smile that screamed "Please forgive me!"

"Sam did not carry Frodo up Mount Doom to be known as 'that guy from Stranger Things!'" you exclaimed.

Vernon threw his head back with laughter as you tried your best to argue with him - it was impossible, he was laughing so hard that he could barely catch his breath let alone answer you. He had spent the majority of your rewatch of the Lord of the Rings trilogy trying to figure out where he had seen Sam before. It wasn't anything he had thought of before, so of course he wanted to know. You had asked him to not go on his phone, watching the movies was very serious for you - even if you frequently talked over the movie to explain certain things. That was allowed, of course. Vernon didn't complain, he enjoyed watching you be so enamored with a movie. He was just happy that you had finally started to relax after your hard day at work.

"I'm sorry," he said in between snickering. "I just saw the actor's name on the credits, I didn't mean to offend Sam."

You looked at him with a pout, your eyes still glossy from crying and the skin around them slightly puffy. You looked like a mess, but Vernon still thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. His grin never faltered; eventually, it got you to break into a smile. You cuddled up next to him again, and he wrapped his arms around you. The credits kept rolling, but neither of you felt like moving to turn them off.

"I still don't understand why Arwen was dying," Vernon mumbled.

"She chose a mortal life," you murmured, "And since she was opposed to Sauron, she would've died if he got the ring back. They all would have."

Vernon nodded at your explanation. You were tired; he could tell from the way you yawned and the fact that you didn't go into a full-blown explanation of why Arwen was dying towards the end of the trilogy. He placed one of his hands on the top of your head, letting you take the other in your hands and play with his fingers.

"Would you choose a mortal life for me?" he asked.

"Yeah." You intertwined your fingers with his, looking at them as if you were studying the way his hand fit in yours. Usually, you would've teased him for asking such a question - called him lame, and maybe flicked his forehead, but not tonight.

"Even if I called Sam 'that actor from Stranger Things?'"

"You're pushing it." You looked up at him with a teasing grin. "But yeah."

"Thanks," he said with a grin that matched yours.

You pursed your lips at him, silently asking him for a kiss, and he obliged. It was short and chaste, almost just a peck. His lips were slightly chapped and tasted like salty popcorn, but you didn't care. When you pulled back from him, his eyes were still closed as if he was trying to savor the moment. You put your head back on his chest without saying a word, even though you had plenty of ideas on ways to tease him floating around in your mind.

"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked after some time of silence.

"Could we just stay here for a moment?" you asked. "I'm comfortable here."

"Sure."

Even though one of Vernon's legs was falling asleep, even though he actually needed to go to the bathroom, and even though he was so tired from watching Lord of the Rings for nine hours straight, he wasn't going to move. Because you were comfortable because you were relaxed. If you felt this safe with him, that you could yell at him for not respecting your favorite film character enough and that you could fall asleep in his arms just a moment later, he was going to do everything in his power to let you keep sleeping. Maybe he wasn't as brave or as good with a sword as Aragorn, but he still wanted to protect you at all costs. He wrapped his arms around you tightly. As cheesy as it was, he really would choose one lifetime with you over facing forever alone.

#svt #seventeen #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop writer #fanfic #svt fluff #vernon imagines #vernon chwe #vernon #vernon x you #vernon x reader #vernon x y/n #vernon scenarios #vernon fluff #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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olderthannetfic · 8 months

Note

Until I read the comments on that one post I had no idea the Bechdel Test was a joke and wasn't supposed to be a serious measuring stick by which you gauged if something was feminist or not. Everywhere I'd ever heard it brought up, it was brought up as a very serious thing, and it was a failure of media if it didn't pass it. I remember the debate about Mako Mori from Pacific Rim and if she was a character you were "allowed" to like as a progressive person despite the fact that Pacific Rim doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, the discourse, the discussion of if the director was sexist for not writing in another woman for her to chat with about non-men related stuff, the camp of people trying to insist that having a fully realized character arc and being as developed as any of the male leads = good writing even if she doesn't talk to another girl...

And I've also had the remark about my writing not passing the test, just not to my face. I searched my fanfic's name once, curious to see if anyone was discussing it outside of tumblr and AO3, and found a Tiktok complaining about it not passing the Bechdel Test. The top comment was "motherfucker YOU don't pass the test but we still watch your ass". I cackled and moved on, but neither the commenter, poster, nor I had any awareness this wasn't Feminist Media Critique 101 theory and was, in fact, a goof.

Right now there's a segment of fandom debating if Blue Eye Samurai is feminist since when Mizu and Akemi talk, they do bring up men, since, y'know. Women aren't considered people with rights in their era in Japan and thus it's something they mention instead of only talking about being cool girlboss badasses who never bring up gender. If something doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, a smug segment of the internet high-fives itself and congratulates one another on being More Feminist Than Thou.

They then get really angry if you disagree, even though by this metric, Sleeping Beauty (the original animated one, where Aurora has only 16 lines of dialogue) is more feminist than Blue Eye Samurai.

*DYING*

Okay, so, nonnie....

Dykes to Watch Out For (1983-2008) was a long-running comic and major piece of lesbian media. I grew up buying compiled volumes at the bookstore. To be honest, that kind of 90s-ish lesbian culture isn't really my scene despite me being bi, but it was very nice to have this slice of life-y somewhat realistic, occasionally somewhat parody, look at the queer communities around me. It's up there with Tales of the City for me in terms of being a window into a particular culture and time and place.

If anybody is interested in queer history, in addition to looking up factual info, I think a read of the complete Dykes would give a really good overview of how people were thinking about things and what issues came up a lot. You'll see things like Barnes & Noble increasingly putting feminist bookstores out of business in the 90s, attitudes towards porn in lesbian circles—all kinds of cultural issues of the day.

I drifted away as I got later in my teens and found more genre fiction I cared about, but at one point, this comic was a very welcome antidote to the glurgey coming out stories that made up a lot of the more realistic media.

Anyway, here's the comic itself, reproduced in its entirety because I think it's important to actually understand the context.

This is from 1985, so the era of Rambo, Conan, and Death Wish, each of which you can see being made fun of here. It's based on Bechdel's friend Liz Wallace's actual rule for seeing movies.

That's it. That's the origin of this whole stupid test.

"LOL, fuck 80s action movies". That's it. That's the joke.

The fact that blockbusters still routinely fail to pass in the 2020s is shameful, but that was never the point of the strip.

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navstuffs · 1 year

Text

Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it.

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes.

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house.

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump.

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says.

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No.

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy angst #leon x reader #leon x you #please dont hate me too much #but i had to :(#someone give reader to leon back please #i almost cried at the end of this I SWEAR

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frostbytemyrik · 9 months

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Danny Phantom Required* Watching

*It isn't actually required. I know there are a ton of phans who have never even seen a single episode of the show, but it's a fun watch and I would recommend at least catching some.

Sorting the episodes into colors (with the first letter in parenthesis by the title for those who might be too colorblind to tell). Note that this is all just my objective opinion, and everyone is free to leave their own thoughts on this!

Green (G) - Introduction of an important character or major plot development, such as a new power for Danny or another major shift in the status quo. If you can only watch a few of the episodes, watch these.

Pink (P) - Introduction of a side character or minor plot development.

Red (R) - Introduction of a new character worth mentioning or other general status quo change, but the episode is generally considered to be...not great by most people. (But hey, nothing wrong with liking these episodes!) They'll be summarized at the bottom of each episode description for those who can't be bothered to watch them.

Blue (B) - Nothing important happens to the overall plot, but it's a fun episode that fleshes out the characters.

Season 1

Episode 1: Mystery Meat (R) - Establishes the show and its main characters: Danny, Sam, and Tucker, as well as a lot of other important characters such as the Fenton parents and Jazz, and minor recurring characters like Dash and the Lunch Lady. The writers are still getting their footing so the main trio is unfortunately among the flattest they get here.

Episode 2: Parental Bonding (P) - Introduction of Paulina and Dora, first look at Valerie, and most importantly, Danny's power to overshadow people. Fun episode in general, Tucker makes a weird comment at the start but this is one of Sam's absolute best episodes as a character. (Tucker and Sam actually getting to be fun characters instead of just "butt-monkey comic relief" and "selfish asshole" is rarer than I'd like, so I always like pointing out the episodes where they get some love.)

Episode 3: One of a Kind (G) - Introduction of Skulker, a recurring major antagonist, and his motivations.

Episode 4: Attack of the Killer Garage Sale (P) - Introduction of Technus, Ghost Master of Technology and Destroyer of Worlds, Manipulator of Machines, Lord of all Gadgetry, Wizard of Integrated Circuitry, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping.

Episode 6: What You Want (P) - First appearance of Danny's Ghost Ray and introduction to Desiree and the Ghost Catcher (a Fenton device with an unfortunately rather...culturally insensitive name and design), explores Tucker and his relationship to Danny. I went back and forth between making this green and pink because I'm biased in my love for this episode, but it isn't necessary to comprehend later episodes. (If you can watch it, though, it's a lot of fun as we get to see how close Danny and Tucker are and how Tucker feels about Danny's powers.)

Episode 7: Bitter Reunions (G) - Formal introduction to main series antagonist, Vlad Masters, and his relationship with the Fentons and the ghosts of the Ghost Zone. (Antisemitism tw: Vlad has hired ghost hitmen that are vultures with Yiddish accents, hooked beaks, and fezzes. They thankfully don't show up anywhere else, as far as I can remember.)

Episode 8: Prisoners of Love (P) - Introduction to the Ghost Zone itself and Walker, a side antagonist. Shows Alicia, Danny and Jazz's maternal aunt who never appears again after this episode.

Episode 9: My Brother's Keeper (G) - Gives Jazz a focus and formally makes her a major player in the plot through a certain discovery she makes. Also introduces side antagonist Dr. Penelope Spectra.

Episode 10: Shades of Gray (G) - Valerie Gray, a background character from Episode 2, gets new motivations and becomes an important part of the series going forward.

Episode 11: Fanning the Flames (P) - Ember is introduced, and she hypnotizes the entire town to fall for her with her music. To keep Danny out of her hair, she makes him fall for Sam. Whether this episode is a Pink or a Red depends on whether or not that bothers you. (Racism tw: there's a sequence towards the end of the episode that shows people around the world watching Ember, and they're all very stereotyped appearances of Japanese, Eastern European, Arabian, and Indigenous Australian people. Thanks, Hartman.)

Episode 12: Teacher of the Year (B) - A fun episode with Technus. It does have some of that early 2000s "don't underestimate me because I'm a girl" stuff, but it's still a good episode with a lot of heart.

Episode 13: Fright Night (P) - Introduces Fright Knight. A Halloween special that has its ups and downs (eating underwear?) It's just really funny that an actual ghost, who has been to the maddeningly twisted and alien world of the afterlife, still can't scare anyone to save his life.

Episode 14: 13 (P) - It's a shame this isn't actually the 13th episode. Anyway, it introduces Johnny 13 and Kitty, while Tucker and Sam get to hang out without Danny while trying to solve Tucker's new run of bad luck and the fallout for his reputation.

Episode 15: Public Enemies (G) - Walker's back and he's making a major shift in the status quo: ghosts are confirmed to exist as he stages a major invasion of the town. Things don't go well for Danny, and the repercussions will be felt for well into the series. Also introduces Wulf, a ghost who looks like a werewolf, exclusively speaks Esperanto, and has the ability to tear the fabric of reality to create portals between Earth and the Ghost Zone. He's putting this power to use for Walker, but it's clearly not by choice...

Episode 17: Maternal Instinct (B) - Maddie notices her son is growing distant from her and tries to take him to a science symposium to bond with him, but disaster strikes and leaves them in the woods, with the only shelter available being...a cabin owned and occupied by none other than Vlad. Meanwhile, Jack tries to understand Jazz, who doesn't seem to want anything to do with him or ghost hunting. Lots of great character moments for the Fentons.

Episode 18: Life Lessons (B) - Danny and Valerie, arriving late to class because they both were out ghost hunting, get paired up in home economics class to raise a flour sack baby together. We get more insight into what Valerie's life is like after Shades of Gray, and she learns to get along with both Fenton and, temporarily, Phantom, after an excursion through Skulker's part of the Ghost Zone. As a B-plot, Tucker makes money babysitting other students' flour sacks while ignoring the one he has with Sam, and Sam tries not to get attached to the sack. It's not important to the plot AT ALL but I'd put this as a must-watch if I could. Alas, I made the rules and must follow them.

Episode 19: The Million Dollar Ghost (B) - A million dollars is placed on the head of the ghost boy, Public Ghost Enemy #1: Inviso-Bill, known to us in the audience as Danny Phantom.

Episode 20: Control Freaks (G) - The circus is in town! New villain Freakshow gets introduced, and he becomes important later. Kinda. Depending on how much you like a certain blue episode that comes on down the line. The trio go to this cool new goth circus, but there's a string of ghostly robberies in town and Danny has been acting strangely lately...

Season 2

Episode 1/21: Memory Blank (R) - Danny and Sam have a fight, Sam wishes she'd never met him, Desiree makes the wish come true and now Danny has no powers and neither he nor Tucker remember her at all. Sam gets him fried by the portal again to get his powers back, but this time with a new logo she designed slapped onto his chest. Really all that happens is Danny gets his logo. This can be skipped...if you wish. ;)

Episode 2/22: Doctor's Disorders (B) - There's a bug going around - literally - getting the kids at Casper High sick. Symptoms include sneezing, chills, coughing, congestion, and various ghost powers depending on the student. The only ones immune seem to be Danny (thanks to his ghost powers) and Tucker (wearing his new homemade cologne that smells awful in a different way to everyone). A new hospital opens up to treat them, but something fishy is definitely going on. ...But Tucker is afraid of hospitals. Great Tucker episode.

Episode 3/23: Pirate Radio (P) - Introduction to Youngblood, an occasional antagonist. A new radio program pops up, and every adult in town (and Jazz, who's 16 but sees herself as an adult) is enraptured by it and the one song that it plays on loop. Then one day, every single adult in town leaves behind a note that they're going on a cruise, and it's up to Danny to rally the teens of Amity Park to discover what's so fishy about the cruise and get their parents back.

Episode 4/24-5/25: Reign Storm (G) - The creepy castle in the Ghost Zone Danny accidentally freed Fright Knight from in Fright Night holds yet another secret: the coffin of the Ghost King, known as Pariah Dark, whose goal is to rule over the Ghost Zone and the human world with an iron fist. Vlad frees him hoping to snatch the powerful artifacts on him, but it backfires and now the King is free and follows the fleeing ghosts to Amity Park, which he promptly invades. Danny, Valerie, and various enemies including Vlad need to team up to seal King Pariah back within his sarcophagus and save both Amity Park and the Ghost Zone as a whole. Major status quo shifts happen here.

Episode 6/26: Identity Crisis (B) - Not my favorite episode, but I'm including it here because it was popular with the Phandom a decade ago. Danny gets tired of trying to balance his human and ghost lives, so splits himself in two using the Ghost Catcher that was introduced in Season 1 episode 6: What You Want. That also, unfortunately, divides his personality to two extremes; the human half ("Fun Danny") is lazy while the ghost half ("Super Danny") is an absolute ham of a superhero stereotype, and Tucker and Sam struggle to put their friend back together so he can stop Technus in a way only he can (and also because both halves are honestly really annoying them).

Episode 8/28-9/29: The Ultimate Enemy (G) - This is THE episode of all time. Maybe not the best episode, but it's great in its own right and, more importantly for this list, introduces another major status quo shift. It's also basically required viewing for the comic that came out last year (at time of writing), as that comic is a direct follow-up to this episode. Clockwork, a ghost that is essentially a deity of time, has a mission to eliminate the greatest threat to Earth and the Ghost Zone that has ever been before he comes into that role: a ghost named Danny Phantom. Danny comes face-to-face with a version of himself that caused a doomed future, and needs to fight to ensure that future never comes to pass.

Episode 10/30: The Fright Before Christmas (B) - The boy Danny Fenton, a Grinch to his core, finds the holiday season to be quite a chore. Into the Ghost Zone to blow off some steam, he accidentally causes a scene: the Ghost Writer's finished manuscript in ashes, and with Danny's indifference he clashes. He traps him in a book that warps space and time, and forces all events in his life to rhyme. You're in for a treat if you like all these rhymes, but if they annoy you, then don't waste your time. (This factoid may not matter to you, but this is where we learn of the Christmas Truce!)

Episode 11/31: Secret Weapons (R) - Jazz is overbearing, Danny doesn't like it, so Jazz decides to go to Vlad. The episode's latter half isn't bad, but it's R because Jazz's constant invasions of Danny's privacy and the repetitive thermos jokes grate on me. If you plan to skip, the thing that makes it a red episode is this: Vlad learns that Jazz is in-the-know.

Episode 12/32: Flirting With Disaster (G) - A lot of the more plot-relevant episodes in season 2 (and one in season 1) have been building romantic tension between Danny and Valerie, and here's where it comes to a head: they actually start dating! However, after some jealous stalking thorough investigating, Sam finds that there's someone pulling the strings, and manipulating their real feelings for each other to pull them together and get them out of the way... Valerie especially undergoes a lot of major character moments, and we learn a lot more about her as a person. One of my personal favorite episodes (and I don't just say that because I'm a Danny/Valerie truther) (the "engraved" ring and Sam being a stalker about it aren't great, but honestly I just try to ignore those parts. Yes, I know I'm biased).

Episode 17/37: Kindred Spirits (G) - While Danny's busy being an asshole to his friends leaving Sam and Tucker to take the blame for property damages during his fights, he finds a strange girl named Danielle (or "Dani") who claims to be his cousin and shares an eerie resemblance with him. The similarities go more than skin deep, as she quickly reveals that she's ALSO half ghost. Tucker and Sam warn Danny that there's something suspicious about the whole ordeal (in between being left behind to be blamed for collateral damage more times than I'm bothered to count right now), but when Danny winds up in trouble anyway, they still skip detention (that he got them in) to save him before it's too late. Danny's a dick, but despite that, it's still a good episode and we get introduced to Dani before her next appearance.

Episode 19/39-20/40: Reality Trip (B) - Freakshow gets the Reality Gauntlet: an off-brand Infinity Gauntlet that can warp reality to anything he desires. He gets Danny's secret revealed to the world, causing the government agency the Guys In White (from Million Dollar Ghost in season 1) to relentlessly pursue him. Luckily, thanks to knowledge Sam gained from a book on the gauntlet, the main trio manages to warp the gems to different parts of the United States, severely limiting Freakshow's power. Unluckily, Freakshow retaliates by kidnapping their parents and Jazz, forcing the three to go on a cross-country road trip to get the gems back to Freakshow and save their families while evading the law. No permanent shifts of the status quo, but one of my personal favorite episodes. It's a fun ride!

Season 3

Episode 1/41: Eye for an Eye (R) - A prank war between Danny and Vlad ends in Vlad becoming mayor and passing a lot of horrible laws specifically to spite Danny. The laws are undone by the end of the episode, but Vlad stays mayor.

Episode 2/42: Infinite Realms (R) - In trying to map out the Ghost Zone, the main trio end up meeting Frostbite: leader of a realm in the Zone known as the Far Frozen, filled with spirits that take the form of peaceful, yeti-like monster folk who revere Danny as the chosen one who defeated Pariah Dark. Frostbite is also keeper of the Infi-Map: a map that can take the user anywhere in the Ghost Zone. Now for the bad news: Vlad is here, he wants world domination now for some reason, and he wants the map to help him do it. Vlad steals the map, the trio needs to get it back. It's not the worst episode, but Vlad's villain decay is...tragic. Tl;dr: Frostbite is the leader of a tribe of friendly yeti spirits and keeps the Infi-Map, which can take the user to any point in the ghost zone.

Episode 5/45: Forever Phantom (B) - One of the only actually fun filler episodes in season 3. Introduces us to Amorpho: a ghost with the power to shapeshift into anything and anyone, who uses their power to cause mayhem for attention. They bite off more than they can chew when they impersonate Danny Phantom, however, and a Fenton device gone awry locks both Amorpho and Danny into the form of Danny Phantom. Wacky hijinks abound.

Episode 6/46: Urban Jungle (G) - Haha green. Like plants. Anyway, Danny has been cold lately. No matter what he does or where he is, he's consistently freezing. It gets worse: while Danny's in this weakened state, a giant plant ghost named Undergrowth takes over Amity Park and possesses Sam. Unable to fight the constantly-regenerating Undergrowth or to keep himself from freezing, he flees into the Ghost Zone to seek Frostbite's aid.

Episode 9/49: Frightmare (B) - Danny wakes up one night to learn, to his horror, that Nocturne, the ghost of dreams, has put all of Amity Park into a deep sleep to feed on their energy. He enters the dreams of his friends to wake them and get their help taking Nocturne down. A good episode for people who ship Danny/Sam, and a GREAT episode for people like me who like to pretend that all the episodes I left off the season 3 list were just bad dreams.

Episode 10/50: Claw of the Wild (B) - The students of Casper High are ending summer with a camping trip in a foggy forest. All seems normal until, one by one, campers go missing. Danny, Tucker, and Sam go investigating and find their ally Wulf, who seems to know something about the disappearances...

Episode 11/51: D-Stabilized (G) - Regarded by most as the final good episode of Danny Phantom. Dani had been on her own in the world since we last left her, but over time, her form has been getting unstable, causing her to be slowly melting into a puddle of ectoplasm. She tries returning to Amity Park to get help, but is now being hunted down by Valerie, who Vlad commissioned so he could melt Dani down and study her remains to make a superior clone. (Valerie thinks he's just going to keep her contained for the safety of Amity Park; she isn't informed of the cloning.) Valerie turns Dani in to Vlad, but Danny manages to form a shaky alliance with Valerie to get Dani back, since Valerie knows that Dani is half human.

Episode 12/52-13:53: Phantom Planet (R) - The only reason this is here is because the comic continues from where this episode left off. If it didn't, I'd suggest ignoring it entirely. Rapid-fire summary: an asteroid is about to hit Earth, Vlad reveals himself to the world and demands unquestioning rule over Earth (and one trillion dollars or something) in exchange for turning the asteroid intangible. Vlad can't turn it intangible since it's made of Ectoranium, an anti-ghost substance we never hear of until now. Jack leaves Vlad in outer space. Danny gets every ghost he knows to help him turn Earth intangible, it works somehow, and Danny reveals his secret identity to the world. Statues of Danny are built all over the world, Sam and Danny start dating, and Tucker becomes mayor of Amity Park. A bunch of other stuff happens too but it's all stupid. Valerie gets thrown into a dumpster on live TV and that's her only appearance besides clapping for Danny at the end. I'm still mad. Don't watch Phantom Planet.

The Comics

Book 1: A Glitch in Time (G) - Danny's life is perfect: his secret identity is out, and the world accepts him not just as a part of it, but as its savior. His parents and former bullies fight on his side now, he's in a committed relationship with Sam, and Amity Park seems to be at peace. There's just one problem: his powers are getting weaker by the day. Unbeknownst to him, there's another problem in progress: Dan Phantom, the evil future Danny from The Ultimate Enemy, is released and fuses with Clockwork, causing present Danny and those near him to experience unstable glitches in time. Vlad returns to warn Danny of the threat of Dan, and they all team up to venture into the depths of the Ghost Zone to find a way to stop Dan and get Danny back to full strength. Meanwhile, Jazz and Valerie hold down the fort at Amity Park, holding Dan off for as long as they can while the trio and Vlad search for answers.

Book 2: To be continued in 2025!

Danny Phantom can be watched on Paramount Plus, but if you don't have a subscription, there may be DVDs at your local library! Other people may also have resources on how to watch the show, so feel free to ask around!

Danny Phantom: A Glitch in Time can be found anywhere books are sold! Abrams Books Amazon Barnes and Noble Google Play Waterstones

#danny phantom #danny phantom agit #a glitch in time #dpagit

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gloomy-prince · 6 months

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SUPER OLD RAINBOW! ART THREAD!!! Open only if you are brave enough to face teen me's cringe art...

(mostly joking but fr white Mimi and skinny Boo jumpscare below)

Very first digital piece of Boo and Mimi circa 2011!! I was 14 when I drew this. Usually I'm able to look back fondly at super old art of mine but this one does make me cringe a liiiiittle bit. Mimi girl what are you wearing, why are you white. Boo also had pink eyes in the beginning, which she would continue to have for several years to come (even in the current iteration of RAINBOW! they were pink at first, I later recolored those pages) but it was only later that it was due to the color scheme of the comic and not because they were literally pink. I'm pretty sure they were meant to be contacts, because their hair is and always have been dyed rather than anime-esque natural colorful hair, so that was some crazy dedication from Boo back in the day.

More 2011 art showing off Mimi's goth/scene-ish style and green eyes. They were initially meant to have pastel and neon fashion senses, respectively. The story was already named at this point, only a few days or maybe weeks into its inception, which is impressive considering it has taken us literal years to name other stories (I'm looking at you, Phantom Pains)

this one is from super early 2012! Interesting to think that this was less than 9 months later since it feels completely different to me. The first version of the comic had started at this point, and the pink and green color scheme was just starting to develop. This lineup features some characters that would later be cut. Lucian and Lily were friends of Boo, and Cecilia was Mimi's ex girlfriend. Notably Clarice is not on this lineup, and frankly I'm not sure why.

A picture I drew to commemorate 50 fans on RAINBOW!'s smackjeeves page, mid 2012. Boo's outfit resembled a recolored version of her 2011 outfit, but I have no idea what Mimi is wearing. What. are. you. wearing.

Chibi-ish drawings of Boo and Mimi cosplaying various characters, from early 2013. Homura Mimi is very funny to me, I really don't know why I didn't draw her as Kyoko. I assume I was trying to keep them as paired characters, but I didn't do that with the Sailor Moon or Disney ones, so I who knows why I did it with PMMM. Mimi's hairstyle changes to a shaved cut somewhere around this time, but it is much more dramatic than her current undercut, and her hair is still pretty long. Boo is wearing a closet cosplay of Fluttershy that I myself wore once. These also resemble the chibi-ish drawings on the chapter intermission pages of RAINBOW! Vol 1.

A character study I did in late 2013, which would be shortly after I made a major style shift into the art style that would eventually develop into the one I currently have. At this point, Boo was meant to be fatter than Mimi, but the execution wasn't really there at all. There is also a doodle at the bottom of me and Sunny at the time (I am the one with long hair), expressing thanks for 300 fans on smackjeeves. Considering it had 50 in mid 2012, the readership was pretty slow growing back then.

outfit exploration for Mimi, circa 2014. At this point I started to expand the color scheme a little bit more so that not every character would be paper-white, though she is still very pale even though she is no longer meant to be white anymore. None of these outfits really resemble her current style, and I don't particularly like any of them either. It took me a very long time to settle on a fashion sense for her.

an Adventure Time-eqsue drawing of Mimi and Boo that I actually drew less than two weeks after the previous image despite the difference in things such as the way the hair was drawn. I had to include this one because it blew up overnight, which was a huge deal for highschool me, I remember checking my phone at school a lot because it was just getting hundreds or even thousands of notes over the span of the day. I think it has something like 16,000 notes. Still the post with the highest number of notes I have by far, so I guess I peaked in high school, whomp whomp

More fashion exploration, this time of Mimi and Boo, from early 2015. The color scheme is starting to approach what it currently is, but much more dull since I used to be afraid of bright colors. Mimi's fashion sense is starting to get closer to what it currently is, but the pastel goth influence that was popular in early-mid 2010s tumblr is apparent. In chapter 1, Boo wears an outfit that is extremely similar to the one with the bear shirt, except it's a rabbit instead. The dress that Mimi gives to Boo is also almost identical to the depiction of it here. This drawing implies that Mimi was originally going to be present in the film noir scene where Boo finds her mom, which is interesting...

Another cast lineup! This one is from late 2015-early 2016. Mimi is wearing an outfit pretty similar to what she wears in chapter 1 but with the colors altered. The execution of Boo's body type is starting to improve but she's still kind of pear-shaped. Mimi is also a little more square, and her hair finally looks like the style she has now. Clarice gets to be in the lineup this time and she is SUPER tall. I think she is still taller than Milo. And Mimi is around 5'7"-5'8", so Clarice must be around 6 foot by that logic.

The original version of chibi-ish Boo riding a bike in her Kiki outfit, from 2016. I think it was meant to be a banner of some kind, possibly for tapas or tumblr. A newer version of this drawing features as a chapter intermission drawing in the physical book.

The original cover for RAINBOW! from 2017. The color scheme is finally starting to get a little brighter! This is actually a redraw of an older drawing from 2014, I want to draw it again someday. Also, I was going by Rain at the time.

A drawing I did in late 2017 for a class in which we were meant to try digital painting and I went for a very simple approach. I like that Mimi's legs are a little noodle-y. This is also the first drawing where Mimi's eyes are no longer green, but dark pink instead. By the language of RAINBOW!'s color scheme, that means they are brown. Boo's eyes are still pink, however.

Another drawing for a class, this time from 2018. I can't remember the specifics of the assignment, but I used the opportunity to draw the playground and Max, the dog, for the first time. I like the way the trees look in this. That little snip of hair by Mimi's ear also made a reappearance here for some reason.

The original version of the drawing that would become the cover of RAINBOW! Vol 1, from mid 2019! I believe I drew it to be a banner on Tapas, but I used it for tumblr as well.

And lastly, Boo and Mimi outfit sheets from 2019-2020. I messed with them for a while, hence the timeframe. Boo's eyes are finally green, which I changed since I liked the idea of Mimi having green hair and pink eyes, and Boo having pink hair and green eyes, as if they are reflected a bit in each other. Outside of RAINBOW!'s color scheme, Boo's eyes are actually blue though. It took about a decade, but I finally settled on a fashion sense for Mimi.

BONUS ART!!! 💖💖✨✨ I thought these would be better grouped together rather than chronologically with the rest.

RAINBOW!'s banners from its era on smackjeeves! Smackjeeves didn't have square/circular icons but rather these thin long banners which could also be animated. I thought that was so fun, so I always animated them at least a little, even though one doesn't seem to work. It was customary to write girls love/boys love on the banner of mlm/wlw romance stories then, so almost all of them say that. I still see that trend on some comics on webtoon and tapas nowadays. They are from 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2017. I don't believe the 2017 one was ever used.

And RAINBOW!'s icon throughout the years! I always refused to change it, only update it, because I thought it was really cute. They are from (approximately) 2017, 2018, 2020, and 2021.

And finally, art from 2021 of Mimi with her cousin August, who will be the protagonist of our next comic, Phantom Pains. Weird to think that we'll be on that comic in foreseeable future, since it is also over 10 years old now. Bit of a passing the torch type drawing to end on. 💕 If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading! Hopefully it was fun and didn't hurt your eyes.

#rainbow!#rainbow #webcomic #webtoon #tapas comic #lgbt #lgbtq #wlw #lesbian #lgbt webcomic #queer webcomic

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rottiens · 7 months

Text

GONER | GOJŌ SATORU

✮ wc. . 2.3K

✮ tags. . angst, fem reader, major character death, manga spoilers. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ about. . a sequence of events that begin with you ending your relationship make you reflect on the effect your decisions have on the future.

How long is "forever"? For a child who is left in line at a supermarket while their mother goes back to get something else to put in the cart probably a long time, for someone who is sick it probably feels like an eternity.

For someone to whom you tell for a whole year that you love them, and that you will always be together probably the phrase ceases to carry the same weight as when it was first said, after a few months, one of you may say the words because they sound nice rather than because you really mean it.

Looking back you're not sure you remember it very well. The scene is a blur in your head, just like those old VHS's where you start in one scene and if it wasn't cautiously recorded it ends up jumping to a totally different one. You're not sure exactly what you said or how it sounded, nor what he responded to hearing you say it, you struggle to remember because it's important now.

You can't quote the exact words that came out of your mouth but you have etched in your memory his flushed cheeks, the way the gentle breeze ruffled his hair naturally. Everything felt like slow motion or at least that's how it's saved in your head, you think the detail of his blush was stored so clearly in your memories because you've never seen him so red before.

His face was just like a painter's canvas that had had a big red stain spilled down the center.

"Come on. Let's go home before it rains," Satoru suggests, ignoring the knife you casually plunge into his chest.

You clutch the black bag hanging from your shoulder tightly to your body and avoid his blue eyes at all costs, after all, the oval sunglasses do little to hide them and you don't know if you'd rather he was wearing the blindfold today. You glance down at his high-soled loafers, as shiny and shimmering as the rest of his outfit. You divert your eyes to his briefly to stall for time and refocus on your shoes.

He calls your name, reaches out his hand breaking the infinite distance between you and you pull back adding more space. You think you hear his heart break.

"You can't be serious." His hand returns to his side in submission, his throat rising and falling swallowing saliva. "Are you serious?"

"I want to focus on other things."

"I'm unfocusing you?" Satoru laughs dryly, briefly bringing a hand to his chest pointing to himself before lowering it.

"I'm not sure if we're compatible, I think we're only together because we're both lonely."

His lower lip trembles because what you said was a low blow, it's not fair for you to mention the things he's secretly told you while you were snuggled under the covers of his bed for a situation like this. Concern flashes fleetingly across his face along with a lightning bolt that breaks the sky. The parking lot is practically empty, there are couple of cars scattered around as if it had been put there specifically as part of the scenery, you lose yourself in satoru's porsche behind him, gray as the cotton clouds that suffocate the sky, the flash of the kisses you have shared, the laughter, the secrets that stay stranded in it stick in your chest like a sharp arrow but you quickly disguise it by blinking fast and pretending to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in your clothing.

The silence is heavy. Satoru stares at you so intently that you think he has forgotten to blink.

Satoru opens his mouth but the sudden torrent of water that flows over your head startles you. Satoru gets wet in seconds which makes you wonder why he doesn't activate his infinity and take refuge in his technique, why he stands next to you as if made of stone, still contemplating you.

"You're tearing me apart!" he shouts through the sound of the rain collapsing against the pavement, the water making his shirt cling to his chest, his white skin glistening through the fabric.

"I'm so sorry."

You need to run from there, the rain is everywhere just like the pain that covers your body from head to toe. You feel it all over, crushing your bones, squeezing your lungs and stealing your breath. You are ready to run and flee by his side, but his long fingers stop you, catch your wrists and pull you to him.

Leaving you no escape he pulls you into a forced kiss full of hunger and resentment, his fingers squeeze your cheeks tightly almost as if he's forcing you to stay close but it doesn't matter if he hadn't, you wouldn't have pulled away anyway. He brushes your tongue with his, you let him taste you one last time as he tastes the trace of the drink you were given at the event you attended only minutes before.

The perfect couple, he strongest next to the best sorceress, everyone was talking about the children they would have together, about the future of both clans and the great family they would form, all without asking you first about how you felt. You immerse yourself in a lot of expectations that you have to live up to when all you want is to survive at the end of the day, with so much pressure from your family and the higher ups it is only logical that the band that keeps your appearance of the perfect woman stretches and torn.

You hate yourself for doing this to him before he leaves on a week long mission away from you but you think it's the perfect time for him to detox from you.

As you pull away to breathe he still holds your cheeks possessively, gazing at you just like the most valuable object on display. You can't know what those pretty eyes that hide a sea in them are saying, but you wouldn't blame him for hating you.

"Let me take you home," he asks in a raspy voice and you shake your head.

You can't be near him alone again, not in his car, not in your apartment.

Then Satoru releases your cheeks and they immediately burn from the absence of his fingers and embarrassment, he takes the longest backward step he can and lets you run away from him, literally and metaphorically.

That was the last time you saw him, after leaving him soaking wet in the rain.

It's not like you were desperate to see him again but you weren't sure that would be the last time you'd see his face either. With everything that happened after that day you purposely decided to avoid him, you took missions as far away from Tokyo as you could, avoided going to school on the days he would be working as a teacher and ran away from every social activity you know he would be involved in… little by little the big strong couple fell apart until people accepted that it wasn't a rumor and that you two were really over.

Then he was called to Shibuya along with the other sorcerers who were available. Conveniently you were in Latin America, too far from home to do anything more than hope that all your friends made it out alive from the massacre that was happening there while all you could do was wait and find a plane ticket as fast as you could. You had your phone taped to your chest all night at the airport and all day until you got off the plane until Yaga personally called you to tell you the details.

Satoru Gojo was locked up in the prison realm, I have a death sentence on my head… You'd be lying if you said you heard anything else after that. The phone rolled free from your hand to the ground, crashing to the concrete of the street in a muffled sound.

On your way back you found Tokyo in a mess. Shibuya seemed to have been crushed by a large black hole that consumed and destroyed everything in its path, that it had been a phenomenon fallen from space would have been easier to deal with than admitting that the monster that had created that was still there, hiding in Itadori's body lurking like a predator ready to strike at the precise moment and you could do nothing but wait for it. Guilt digs into your chest as deep as a knife, you refuse to cry and swallow the pain like a hard pill, you should have been there.

Since then you did everything you could to rescue Satoru as you know he's the only one who can take on a now free Sukuna, you can't do it without his help or a logical plan. And after everything that happened between you you feel you owe it to him, as a silent pact that you must keep your word to.

So this is the first time you see him after that afternoon. He looks different from the last time you saw him, maybe it's your fuzzy memories that didn't store the information correctly but he looks bigger even, his hair has grown and his shoulders are broader.

"I knew you'd be here," he jokes in his usual tone.

Here, away from the show his students prepared to welcome him as the celebrity he is. Your belly was in knots and you didn't want to see him, you weren't ready.

You want to slap him for being the first thing he says after months of not seeing each other, for treating you like the sweet friend you always were to him because you feel you don't deserve it, but instead and against all odds you pounce on him. Your arms wrap around his waist embracing an infinite cold emptiness that then materializes in the warm body of your partner.

You hadn't realized how much you missed him until now, until his fingers melt into your hair massaging your skull and pulling you further into him, until you hear him unabashedly sniff your hair and say between giggles how much he missed the smell of your shampoo, you soak his black t-shirt in your tears while his chest burns. You feel safe, you feel at home, and you realize that everything you did was a mistake.

As you lift your clouded eyes to him, you see everything blurred by the raindrops threatening to overflow like that day yet at the same time, you have never seen so clearly in your life.

I love you so much, I'm so sorry - It's at least what you would have liked to say before he interrupted you, his lips make you weep when they touch your forehead so soft, so delicate, you want to stay here forever, you want to tell him to quit, you don't have to save anyone else, you want to tell him to run away with you, that you're ready to start a family and grow old together but you know what he's going to say. Instead, his words make you keep silent:

"You can tell me all that when I get back, I have a lot to tell you too."

You hit the cold table hard where half of Satoru's body rests and the whole room shudders as your cursed energy emanates from you in great waves.

"You promised you'd come back so get up off that fucking table," you sniffle through your nose without letting a single tear fall. Shoko next to you says your name as low as if she doesn't want to be heard, her fingers squeezing your shoulder feels like she's doing it with pity, like she's comforting you, why is she doing it? Perhaps it's her way of telling you that that's it . "Tell me you can do something." You look her straight in the eyes but she keeps quiet, like everyone else, no one dares to speak or scream, why is everyone acting like this is part of the plan? Why are you the only one sinking into a deep salty sea? "Shoko, fuck!"

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

Your knees fail you and you have to lie down on his legs, hiding your face in the white sheet covering what's left of him, your heart dropping to your stomach as something sour and bitter rises up your esophagus.

"Leave me alone." That's all you ask, you don't get up to see if she's heard you over your voice drowned out by the white cloth.

The smell of the hospital and medication, unused gloves and alcohol makes your gut knot, it's all too much. You can barely breathe, your throat burns and it would be so much easier to feel a curse tearing you from the inside out.

"You promised…" you sob again hugging the corpse of the one you recognize today as the love of your life. "I'm so sorry," you mumble with a mouthful of saliva.

When you broke up with satoru you missed him every day, every hour, everything reminded you of him because you didn't just lose a boyfriend, you lost a friend. You missed him but you knew you were going to see him again someday, when the symptoms of grief would subside for both of you, maybe you could even get back the friend you lost because of your relationship but now, missing Satoru is a feeling of anguish that won't go away, because you can't call him anymore, you can't show him the pictures you took in the day, you won't be able to hear his voice again, you won't be able to hold his hand again….. It is a loop of a feeling of emptiness that cannot be filled with anything because he is now gone forever, a black hole that no matter how hard you try to fill it with things and people it will not fill, because nothing and no one will be able to take his place.

And for a person who has lost a loved one who told them that he would be there with them until they grow old, forever is a long time.

notes. . ngl this is really a catharsis for me. i miss a person who is no longer with me irl and what better than to open my heart and let out some of the pain through one of the characters i adore the most <3

thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated. And don't forget to spend time with your loved ones and remind them how much you love them whenever you can.

#wr #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst

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thelastofhyde · 8 months

Text

ii. santorini.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. tensions are high as you and joel spend your first day together exploring the popular island of santorini. back on the boat, joel gets a glimpse at more than he bargained for. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, no apocalypse au, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, tour-guide!joel, unspecified age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. mild smut ( female masturbation, mentions of oral sex + piv sex ), bickering, alcohol, mild angst, so much cheese it'll turn you lactose intolerant!! btw joel hates santorini and he makes that known, but none of his opinions reflect my own ( please don't be mean to me over things characters say <33 ) word count. 7.9k hyde’s input. the majority of this chapter was written with a mixture of medicine flowing through my veins, it's a miracle it's even intelligible. apologies for the wait, the holidays and health issues got in the way <3 as always, i hope you enjoy, comments an dreblogs are always appreciated !! previous chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

It is a known fact that your name and late rarely exist within the same sentence.

The mere thought of being late fills you with a sickness you cannot cure. The extremes you’ll go to avoid it know no bounds. From arriving four hours before a flight, to waiting in your car a whole hour before entering a lecture hall, adulthood is a phase in which you’d sworn to repair the damage of a childhood worth of not arriving late.

Late to school, late to birthday parties, late to dentist appointments.

It wasn’t that you were a particularly difficult child, running rampant around the house as your mother tried to dress you, or your father tried to feed you. Quite the contrary, really. Often, it was little-you who chased around after them, and who waited by the door, school bag in hand, tapping your foot with every second that ticked by on the clock. You were too young and hadn’t the ability nor the empathy to understand that your parents were held up with sorting through things directly influenced by your existence, like cleaning up the messes you left at the breakfast table, or fixing the doorknob you and your sister broke in an intense game of hide and seek.

Nowadays, you can count on one hand the times you’ve been late.

First, you were late to your own surprise birthday party, but that was down to you getting stuck an extra hour at work. It was out of your control.

Then, there’d been your graduation ceremony. Your father missed an exit and ended up taking you on a mystery tour of the city, trying to find the next turn that led to your campus. Again, out of your control.

The third time is the one you remember panicking over the most, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves as you sat squeezed between two strangers on a plane. Your sister, barely halfway through her third trimester, had gone into labour, and where were you? Stumbling around drunk on a private beach in Cancún, mumbling along to the lyrics of some early 2000s classic you forget the name of. Your niece, all 4 and a half pounds of her, had decided now was her time to shine and there was nothing, not even the 4 weeks she had yet to grow in utero, that was going to stop her. By the time you arrived, mascara smudged eyes and with the stench of tequila still on your skin, she was laying peacefully in her incubator, the tiniest little fingers clenched into fists and a name tag around her wrist. This too was out of your control.

But the fourth time you’re late, as you stride urgently across the wooden decking of the ship, weaving in and out of lounge chairs and polo-neck wearing crew members, it’s completely within your control.

Yet, it’s not entirely your fault.

An alarm that never went off. A game of hide-and-seek with your purse. An unfortunate slip on bathroom tiles adding another bruise to your knees. An elevator that refused to travel faster than the speed of a snail. It’s as though Lady Luck had set out in favour of being against you, doing her utmost to ensure you arrive exactly seven minutes past your deadline. His deadline.

Best be on the deck by 7 am, darlin’, or I’m dockin’ without ya.

Your head whips from one side to another, eyes finding a familiar figure amongst the few passengers meeting their own private guides. It’s the same man from yesterday, out on the balcony, the memory of him cheering his champagne and shooting a tipsy smile your way replaying. Only now he’s clad in plaid, with a frown etched into his forehead as he stares at his watch. There’s another man, hanging off his arm, fusing with the collar of his shirt.

“She’s late,” you overhear him say, voice firm and leaking with annoyance.

“Maybe she just slept in!” The man next to him is cheerier, tired eyes full of optimism, even as he turns his head and stifles a yawn. “Give her a few minutes.”

“What kind of shitty tour guide sleeps in?” Balcony-Man huffs, and you can’t help but think of your niece and her pouty face whenever she fails to get her own way. “Does she think I’d not rather be asleep too? Lazy c-”

“See? This is why I told you to eat that damn croissant before we left.” The taller of them seems to snap, rolling his eyes. “Brighten up, Bill, or so help me God you’ll be leaving this boat a divorcee.”

Trying to tune their voices out, as the guilt of prying crawls its way into your bones, your gaze points down at your feet. The very same heels you’d worn last night, pretty as they may leave you, have you cursing at the Sun and the Moon. If you’d have just worn your sneakers, maybe you could have ran up the stairs instead of taking the snail-evator.

Joel, tour guide, Signore Miller’s voice- though your imagination can’t quite reach his level of arrogance- rears its irritating head through your mind, recalling his words from last night. Wear somethin’ a little more… practical. That had been enough to awaken that stubborn mule inside of you, hell-bent on proving him wrong.

But now, late, and with him nowhere in sight, your heels seem to have had the opposite effect. They’ve proved him right.

Which leaves you here, moping so pathetically you’re incapable of appreciating the shine of a rising sun over the horizon of aqua blue water.

Five minutes, you decide. That’s how long you’ll allow yourself to dwell in self-pity. Then, you’ll trek your way over to the Excelsior lounge, hit up the breakfast buffet, and await the general disembarking time.

Who knows, maybe you’ll get a call to say there’s a miraculous spot opened up on one of the tour groups.

If not, you’ll be fine! You’ve travelled alone before, you’ve got an all-inclusive data plan on your phone and you’re pretty well-acquainted with the less-than-accommodating features of Google Maps. You don’t need help, or a tour guide, much less one as blood-boiling, skin-prickling, irritating as Joel Mil-

“Wasn’t sure how ya like your coffee, but you look like a milk, two sugars kind of girl to me.”

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Or, in this case, think of him.

Turning a little too fast, you stumble a step or two back, and, sure enough, there he is. A tight fitting, dark grey t-shirt stretched over the swell of his biceps, a pair of washed-out denims, and two well-worn running shoes, one on each foot. Trailing up the swell of his tanned neck, you count the freckles up to his eyes, and find there’s bags under them. The growth of hair on his face is just as unkempt as yesterday, yet already it seems to have grown longer, making the litter of greys stand out more. The hair that sits atop his head is damp, and the strands that have managed to dry are being messed around by the morning air. He’s still got that ever-present frown stamped into his forehead, yet his mouth doesn’t seem to curl into a snarl as he calls your name.

You must stare a moment or two past his comfort level, for he clears his throat and nods down at his hand. Two to-go cups, the smallest streams of steam floating out the hole in each lid.

He’s extending one out- the one in his right hand- towards you. “If you’d rather black, you can take min-”

“No!” You snap back into your own body, all too quickly and all too volatile. Clear your throat, and then try again, this time with a little less of that im being held at gunpoint shake in your voice. “No… Thank you. It’s fine- Milk is fine.”

It’s more than fine.

In fact, he’s gotten it spot on. Down to the number of sugars you take.

But, still stubborn, you yearn to not give him the satisfaction of being right so early in the day, and instead settle for accepting the coffee out his hand. You welcome the golden warmth eagerly, eyes unable to resist slipping shut as you take your first sip. When they reopen, you find Joel watching you, intently. Purposefully, as though you’re something to be studied.

Clearing your throat, you glance to the side and spot Balcony-Man and his partner greeting an apologetic woman.

“Thanks for the, uh,” his stare is intimidating your nerves, setting you on edge of something you’re all to eager to jump off. “Coffee. Yeah. You didn’t have to… I mean, I actually thought you’d, you know, uh-”

“You thought I left without ya.” He states. All you can do is nod. “I could’ve. I did warn you not to be late.”

“You did.”

“I also told you to wear somethin’ other than them heels.”

“I know.”

“Yet here you are, late and in heels. You’re not very good at following orders.” He exhales something akin to a chuckle, as devoid of humour as it may be, and you swear he’s suddenly closer than you remember, knuckles brushing against your own as he bumps his paper cup against yours. “Just what am I gonna do with ya, huh?”

For a moment, you swear your heart has leaped from your chest and up to your throat, threatening to choke you with the beat of it. There’s no sense you can make of it, this reaction he rouses, a heat you can’t control creeping down your loins as you drag in a whiff of some manly cologne, the kind you’d usually turn your nose up at for being too overbearing. Yet, on him, it’s not. On him it’s just right, like he was born with pine soaked skin, and a tobacco stained kiss, and-

Before you can think of pulling in another breath, Joel’s stepped back, allowing a cool breeze to pass between you and get a hold of your senses.

“C’mon, we’re slotted in for the first tender that leaves for shore.”

“Oh my God.”

You’re half certain Joel’s growing sick of hearing those three words roll off your tongue. He’s likely felt this way since it first left your mouth, feet struggling to safely step out onto the dock as your mind became enchanted by the picturesque view in front of you. Only the burn of his hand meeting your lower back, nudging you ahead to make space for himself and the other passengers to step off the tender boat, was capable of dragging you back into your own body, the wanderlust that had gripped your soul yearning to be free to explore every building that sits carved into rock, every water-taxi that flows idly on cristaline water, every step that winds up and up and up the island’s cliff where, at the top, civilisation seems to lie.

The port you’ve docked on is rather small, with naught more than two docking strips and a walkway of shops and confection stands, with boats that find no space along the docking strips tying themselves to any safety they may find over the expanse of the walkway. It is no wonder the cruise floats safely out in deeper waters, alongside several other cruise lines, with no space for such large vessels. And, yet, the port is alive with something. The ground seems to pulse, like a beat of a heart, and the air, as fresh as the grass after heavy rainfall, almost dances its way down your lungs. Voices swim all around you, tourists scrambling past each other, fighting in a race towards something you’ve yet to identify.

“So this is Gialos, also known as the Old Port of Fira.” Somewhere, behind you perhaps, Joel’s voice pipes up, a speech so rehearsed and robotic, a part of your wonders how many times he’s recited it, how many people he’s recited it to. The other part of you, however, is much too fixated on the stairs ahead to pay him true attention, eyes following as two men and several donkeys descend. “That, up there, is Fira, the capital of Santorini. We’re going to need to take a cable- Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes!” You’re quick to react, a defensive rise in your voice. He meets it with a deadpan look and the crossing of his arms over his chest, which quickly becomes something you wish he wouldn’t do as you watch the tight fabric of his shirt stretch itself thin over the bulge of his arms. “No. Sorry, I’m just… Wow.”

You hope he appreciates the restraint you show towards repeating those three dreaded words again.

“You have all day to stare,” his words trip over his own irritated scoff, and you bite back a question of why he’s a guide if he seems to hate it so much, fearful he’s too honest to not tell you a truth that may hurt your fragile feelings. A truth where it is not so much his job he dislikes, but rather, your presence and all that it brings. “Right now, we need to move. Don’t wanna spend all day waitin’ in line now, do ya?”

This need for speed that hooks the other tourists seems to filter over into your guide, who’s forcing you forward, that heat of his palm now hovering inches away from your lower back. It’s enough to lead you where he pleases. As a pair, you weave in and out small clusters of people, till the space between you both and the large gathering crowd slowly diminishes. It is there where his once telepathic leading fails, with Joel turning left towards it as you stray right, over to the ascending pathway of stairs.

“Where are you going?” His tone is offended, almost, as he comes to a halt and watches you fail to do the same, to notice the space between you both and correct it like some puppy who’s been called to heel by its master.

“Where am I going?” The question, at first, is one you mistake as rhetorical. Staring back at him with an equaled confusion, you gesture to the stairway, as though it is the most obvious answer. Because, well, where else could you have been heading? He said so himself, that up there is Fira, the capital of Santorini, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get to see it. “Where are you going?”

“To the cable cars, that’ll take us up the island.”

Above the crowd of people, hanging over doors of small businesses, lay several signs. CABLE CARS - 6€ ! stands out, impossible to miss. Symbols you scarcely recognise sit beneath it, in smaller text, and you assume it’s Greek. In the distance, you spy the movement of the mobile boxes, people being carted up the length of the cliff at a speed that promises them a journey of mere minutes.

“Oh.” So, perhaps his option makes more sense than your own far longer, more tiring one. Still, stubborn as a mule, you double down on your decision to take the scenic route, inching closer towards the first step. Your guide, still in the face, refuses to move, daring eyes willing you to continue. “You want us to take the lazy man’s route? You go ahead, I’ll take the stairs and meet you at the top.”

You press one foot up onto the first step, weary of where you rest the point of your heel.

Glancing a few steps further up, there’s the unmistakable sight of a mound of brown substance, no doubt excreted out of one of the donkeys that walk ahead, tourists mounted on their poor backs.

“I don’t think you understand,” he finally inches closer, if only slightly, hands clenched at his side. “There’s five hundred and eighty-eight steps until you reach the top.”

The number is more daunting than you expect, and you pray he can’t read this on your face. “Only? I’ll be up in no time then!”

You feel more than see the way Joel’s eyes travel down the expanse of you, stuttering almost over the curvature of your chest, the dips at your hips, till they rest at your feet. The question hangs loose between you, unspoken yet evident.

In those heels?

“Listen, Joel,” taking a second, third, and fourth step, you aim for a literal higher ground, staring down below as he continues to drift closer and closer towards the stairway. “If you’re not fit for the task, or the climb’s no good for your knees, you can just say it, there’s no shame. Like I said, I’ll meet you at the top. Promise I won’t even report the fact my private guide abandoned me in favour of his own comfort.”

Defeat has never come easy.

Well, to phrase it better towards the truth, acceptance of defeat has never come easy.

There was always something more to be said, another excuse to be given for any of your shortcomings. When you’d been turned away from the school’s soccer team, you’d told yourself it was because you were a girl- ignoring the fact three girls in your year made the cut. When you’d lost an arduous game of Monopoly, you’d sworn you’d caught your sister sneaking notes out of the banker’s pile into her own. When you’d been beaten, round after round, by your own niece at Mario Kart, you’d stuck your tongue out at her and told her you let her win out of pity.

All that had been before, of course, back when you still roamed school hallways, when your sister sat across from you at the dining table, when your niece still laughed freely, wildly, celebrating her own victories with an over-the-top, uncoordinated dance around the living room.

As changed as things may be, defeat is still your foe.

It is that reason alone that you bite back a complaint.

You’d enjoyed the initial moments of your trek. Maybe it was the salty air in your lungs, or the beautiful views of your surroundings, or the idle grumbling coming from Joel, a few paces behind you, kicking up dirt under his feet with every step he travelled up. Whatever the reason, adrenaline had been flowing, into your heart and through your veins, covering every square inch of your body, a tingling of nerves from the tip of your toes to the top of your spine.

But, by the 10 minute mark, a dull ache forms in your feet. Each step of your heel feels more life threatening than the last, as the stairs grow slippier, dustier, and well-worn the further up you advanced. By stair who-knows-how-may, you take a near fatal tumble backwards, the crunch of crumbling rock threatening to be the last thing you hear. Till he appears behind you, fast as light, huffing out a breath as you smack down against his solid chest.

“Mind your step.” From anyone else, you would mistake it as a sign of care. From Joel, you know better than to think it’s anything beyond a humourless taunt.

You try to keep count of the steps, from then on, an effort to motivate yourself to move faster with each ten-pace you count. By 50, you lose your place and begin counting all over again.

The journey is difficult in other ways, too, with the constant passing of donkeys who obligate you to stand aside and make way for them. And the distant movement of cable cars, firing up and sliding down more times than you can keep track of.

When a particular step proves itself too steep, you can no longer hold back and, finally, a hiss slips out between your clenched teeth as pain shoots up your ankle, the leather of your shoe rubbing even harder into your brittle skin, threatening the promise of a blister yet to fully swell. Pushing the pain down, alongside a complaint, you take another step. Hiss. Then another, hiss. You can fight it no longer, bending at the waist to slip off your heel and examine the irritated skin.

Sure enough, it’s been rubbed raw, broken and spilling a small pool of blood.

Behind you comes an exasperated groan and, before you can straighten yourself to even register what’s happening, Joel barges past you and the figure of him up ahead slowly diminishes the faster he climbs up hill.

“Hey!” You call after him, hobbling to slip your shoe back on, but it’s to no avail.

He’s long gone, growing further and further out of your reach with each passing minute.

Cursing him under your breath, you decide to hell with the no complaints of his preferred regard for his own comfort. He’s abandoned you, injured and hobbling up the steps, all because he has the patience of a toddler who’s been waiting far too long to go potty.

“Wear somethin’ a little more sensible…” You’re bound to seem deranged to any passers by, half hopping up the steps, mumbling to yourself in a mockery of his deep voice “Yeah, right, how bout I shove somethin’ a little more sensible up your ass. Oh, what’s that? There’s no room up there with the massive stick you’re already carryin-”

“A local man warned me bout ya, on my way back down. Said there was some no-good girl casting out bad juju.” You freeze, foot stopped in mid-air. Shifting your gaze up ahead, you find Joel there, skipping a step every so often as he grows closer and closer. At his side, dangling from two fingers, sits a plastic bag. “Told him it ain’t no juju or curses you’re casting, just throwin’ a little tantrum.”

Like a fish out of water, all you can do is stare at him, wide eyes and mouth agape.

Joel pays your silence no mind, almost delighting in it. With a pop and a crack from his knees, he crouches down before you, holding out the palm of his hand.

“C’mon,” he mutters, pointing towards your injured foot. “Lemme see.”

You’re hesitant, at first, but ultimately lift it and let him curl his grip around it, holding you in place as the shoe slips off you. A tut meets your ears as his eyes meet the bloodied mess, and you watch how he contemplates, for a moment or two, before wetting his thumb with his tongue and swiping it over your broken skin.

It stings, like salt in a wound or a bee’s stinger through skin, and you try to flinch back, retract yourself from his hold. But Joel’s strong, resilient, nails biting at the flesh of your ankle to keep you in place. His free hand digs into the plastic bag he’d discarded at his side and pulls out a white box. Fiddling with it for a short period, he manages to open it at last and slips out a bandaid. He rips that open a lot quicker, using his teeth, and slips it over your open wound perfectly, thumb and pointer finger smoothing it around the curve of your heel.

“D’ya see now why I told you to not wear those things?” You feel like a child at his words, reprimanded like you once were for touching your mother’s curling iron. “And why I said we should take the cable car?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refuse to meet his eyes. But he just won’t let you be, craning his own neck to infiltrate the space you stare off into. There’s a pleased look on his face, smugness pulling at the right corner of his mouth. Alarmingly, you think of how it’s the closest you’ve gotten to seeing him smile.

You continue your pursuit of silence, repeating a mantra of how you don’t care that he’d tried to look out for your comfort, or how he’d then tried to save you the effort of an uphill battle, or how his hand, big and warm and rough at the fingertips, is still holding your foot in place, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle in a circular motion.

“Look at ya, gone all quiet on me,” that corner of his lip curls higher. You register the rustling of the bag, his hand digging back inside it. “Ain’t one for bein’ put in your place, are you?”

Out comes his hand once more, though this time it’s not a box of bandaids. Now, resting firm in his grasp, sits a mixture of navy blue dyed cotton, stitched atop a flat, thick layer of a straw-like material. A slip-on canvas shoe. Joel doesn’t await permission, nor does he even ask for it. He simply takes charge, slipping it onto your foot, mindful as he straightens out the back to lay against your heel.

“Other foot, up.”

Switching feet, you stumble as your weight completely shifts onto your injured side. Your hands, reaching out to stabilise your swaying body, are quickly directed by his own to rest atop his head, curls of brown threading between your fingers. You contemplate asking what products he uses to achieve locks so smooth and shiny, then rethink it as soon as you imagine his reply of a disinterested grunt and a snarky ain’t use anythin’ but dirt water and a splash o’ whiskey.

“How’s it feel?”

Soft, you almost reply, then realise he’s asking about the shoe.

With a wiggle of your toes, you tell him it’s fine, and leave it at that. He doesn’t need to know they’re surprisingly comfortable.

Joel rises with a bit of a struggle, yet refuses the help you offer. Rough hands scoop up your discarded heels, tossing them into the bag, and then he straightens his back, lets out a noise of discomfort, before nodding up ahead.

“C’mon, only got a hundred or so to go. We’ll be up in no time.”

The sun sits high in the sky when you reach the city of Fira.

Crossing over that last step, 588 painted in white across it, you huff out a sigh, exhaustion aching you out of any enjoyment of your victory over the stairway from hell. Before you can even utter a word of your thirst, Joel is already reaching into his bag of wonders, unscrewing the lid off a bottle of water and passing it to you. Grateful, you take a sip, and lament the few drops that spill down your chin.

At least they don’t go to complete waste, cooling your skin ever so slightly.

It’s a shame to see Joel start moving again, moments before you’re even ready to gain back your breath, but you follow after him, nonetheless, mindful to not press your foot too hard down. Through streets he winds, past shopkeepers he walks. Eventually, after a few minutes, you ask him where you’re both heading.

“To catch a coach,” his hand moves quickly, tugging you closer as a bicycle shoots past behind you. Your own find themselves against his chest, and realise it is nothing like his hair. Solid, warm, wide. It’s almost a shame to lower them back down to your side. “Less you think you can walk from here to Oia, too.”

Truth be told, you don’t know where Oia is.

But you do know your walking for the day is over, happy to follow Joel onto the coach. You take the aisle seat, he’s by the window. Across from you both sits a couple, young and giggling into one another’s ears, as though the sounds of their joy is sacred to none but them. A pang of envy thumps your soul, and you quickly turn your face.

Only to find that Joel’s is grey.

Not the hair that lines it but, rather, his whole face, paled and blood-drained. It’s a sickly image, and one that’s quick to get your heart racing.

“Are you okay?” Any thought of keeping your composure becomes mute as you hear your own voice, a treacherous shake to it that gives your panic away. “You look…” There is no word kind enough for you to use to relay the image of him, so you lock your lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to get a reply, as your hand moves up to feel his forehead. It’s sweaty, warm, and you move to pull your hand back when he’s holding it firm in place, eyes slipping shut. “‘S cold. You’re cold,” seems to be his explanation. “I’m fine, it’s just- Carsick.”

“You get carsick, yet you work on a cruise.”

“Not the same. Ship’s big, somethin’ bout the size and my own visibility, ‘s what stops me getting seasick.”

You sit like that the rest of the coach, your hand pressed to his forehead, his eyes slipped shut.

“What’s your favourite stop on the cruise?”

As it turns out, Oia is exactly what you’d pictured Santorini to be.

White washed houses, deep blue domes for rooftops, turquoise waters, all for as far as the eye can see. Joel complains, more than tells you, of the rise in tourism over the years, of how it’s turned the beautiful village into a party-town for idiots abroad, disregarding the clean environment, shamelessly blocking paths to snap a frame-worthy shot, raising prices to the ceiling. When you ask him if he thinks he’s in part to blame, if people like him are to blame- running tours, bringing guests onto the island, earning a wage off the visiting of such a place- he grumbles out something about missing breakfast, needing lunch.

So you find a cafe. Or, more, Joel leads you to one. He greets the doorman, with a wave and a pat on the back, before sauntering his way through to a back terrace, overlooking the whole village, the water perfectly framing it. Stepping out and sitting down, the view robs the very breath out of your lungs.

It’s like sitting inside a postcard.

Joel asks if you like Greek food.

You tell him you’ve never had it.

He orders for you both, a mixture of different plates, and swears he’ll find something you’ll like.

It turns out you’re rather fond of baklava.

“Florence.” Joel’s taken his time to answer, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. Disbelief more than fear in his eyes, you have to wonder if it’s the first time someone’s thought to ask him, in all his years as a guide. Naturally, this leads you to wondering how many years that is. “It’s a real site. Full of history, a real story to be told.” He tilts a ceramic dish your way, eyes glancing down in an offering. You follow them, and spot olives. Shake your head, no, then smile, thanks. He shrugs, more for me, and pops two into his mouth. “There’s this…” he pauses to chew. “This library.”

“A library?”

“‘S not just a library.” He slips out the olive’s pip and raises another into his mouth. You try not to think about how thick his fingers look, rolling the remaining briny green pebbles around in the pot. “There’s a cinema built inside it. Plays some classic films. I always- or, I try to go whenever we dock.”

It’s hard to picture Joel inside a cinema, something about the setting too busy, too loud to place his scowling face in. Would he be the kind to have a favourite seat, perfectly picked to optimise the sound quality? Does he speak animatedly, excited any time he recognises an actor? Or is he a shusher, the kind to roll his eyes when someone dares to even clear their throat?

A part of you wants to ask him if your tour involves a trip to this library.

Something tells you it’s not a place he likes to share, though. It’s his own little corner, safe to sneak a moment of selfish indulgence amidst a week of catering to another’s needs.

“A cinema inside a library?” A waiter interrupts you, asks if everything’s alright. Joel orders another serving of baklava. “Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron?”

“Yeah.” For a moment, you think you see a smile creep across his lips. “Suppose it is.”

Another interruption comes in the form of your ringtone, rippling the water in your glass as your phone vibrates upon the table. You’re well aware of how Joel spots the word Mum displayed across your screen. Just like you’re aware he sees how you swipe down on your screen and switch on aeroplane mode.

Before he can ask any questions, or the sudden silence can become too deafening, you throw out another question. “And your least favourite?”

“Least favourite stop?” You nod, affirmative, and he needs no time to reply. “Here.”

“Here?! How come?”

The baklava arrives, as if on cue, and you point down at it, as though it is reason enough to be enamoured with the island. It seems to do little to convince him, his hand reaching out to push the plate closer to you, inviting you to indulge yourself.

“Compared to the other stops, Santorini’s bland.” He says it when your mouth is too occupied to protest, stuffed full with layer after layer of pastry. “Kind of like a diamond, y’know? Real pretty to look at, empties your wallet, and, at the end of the day, ain’t much you can do with it.”

“People propose with diamonds.” You point out, and cough as a flake of pastry hits the back of your throat.

Joel’s already passing you your glass of water before you even think to reach for it.

“People propose with rings. Diamonds are just custom, not a guarantee.”

Sunset arrives with no warning, a hue of fiery orange melting down into the calm waters on the horizon. It’s Joel who makes the call to head back, one glance at his watch enough to tell you the last chance to catch a coach is nigh. It’s only as you go to call for the bill that he tells you it’s covered and you realise his earlier trip to the bathroom had been a ruse to go pay.

The trip back is calmer, quieter, with the coach full of sunkissed and heat exhausted tourists.

Again, you take the aisle seat, and Joel, the window.

Keeping an eye on him is easy, switching your gaze towards the approaching darkness of the night sky calling upon the street lights anytime he meets your eyes. When you notice the increase in breaths and the paling of his skin, you wordlessly unscrew the cap off a bottle and slot it into his hand, inviting him to finish off the last sips of your water.

Skipping out on a trip down memory stairway, you quietly follow him into the cable car and, when you reach the Old Port, you try your best to block out his smug remark of how easy and fast the ride was. A feat which becomes easier as you stumble halfway up the dock and turn back.

Like hours before, as you first stepped off the tender, your mouth falls agape. Only, this time, wider. The view of the island lit up in all its glory is enough to leave you breathless, hands scrambling to fish out your phone, open the camera and-

“You gettin’ on or what?” Joel calls out from behind, and you find him waiting on board one of the tenders, hand held out towards you.

It’s a demand, more than it is an offer, to hurry up. The collective of other passengers are watching the interaction, and a feeling you’ve come to know all too well crawls its way into your veins.

A burden, holding them all up, that’s what you are.

The feeling follows you back, as you slip into a damp seat and watch as the boat carries you further and further from the island, it’s lights twinkling in a way that chokes you up, drains you out, eyes stinging from more than just the salty air. You’ll love it, I swear! The memory plays out in your head, those words gushed at you. Hands squeezing your cheeks, a smile blinding you under its brightness. Just wait till you see it at night, the lights shine over it like stars!

You blink.

A tear pools at the corner of your eye.

“Here, look,” something nudges you. It’s Joel, inching his phone into your view. Through blurred sight, you glance at it. And find yourself, centre frame, lit only by the moon. In the back lies the whole skyline of Santorini, lights reflecting down onto the waters below. “Best view you can get, the whole island in one shot.”

Afraid to hear your own voice, you smile.

He answers by pointing his phone back at you, snapping another photo.

Back on the cruise, the two of you part ways, with Joel telling you to meet him in the same bar, same time as the night before.

Dinner had been part of your plans. With a glance over the listed restaurants on board, the ache in your tired bones asks you to stay in bed and make use of the room service. You listen, order something light, easy. It arrives in under 10 minutes and your hunger is satisfied sitting out on the balcony, watching the dark waves roll past.

Phoning your mother is the next port o'call.

Unlike with your food, that takes longer than 10 minutes. Much longer, and involves you countlessly reassuring her that yes, you’re okay, and no, you don’t need her to fly out and meet you in Naples.

“I’m a big girl,” you even throw in a laugh, hoping it’ll ease the worry lines you can picture splayed over your mother’s face. “I think I can climb up a mountain without my mum’s help.”

“Honey, you know that’s not what why I’m worri-”

“Did you know you can get carsick but, at the same time, not seasick?”

You hang up shortly after, with a promise to try your best to answer when she calls tomorrow, instead of hours later, when she should be fast asleep.

The time on your phone tells you there’s still forty minutes until you need to meet Joel. The image of that grandiose bathtub flashes before your eyes and, in record timing, you’re sinking into scalding waters, a complimentary bath bomb dumped in and granting you the childish gift of bubbles.

You try to relax, at first.

There’s no need to wet your hair, so you indulge yourself. Lay your head back, close your eyes. Feel your muscles loosen with the warmth, ignore the sting of soap in your blistering heel. Your hands struggle to find a resting place, until they meet your thighs. They sit still, for a moment or two, before one slips down, inching into the crease of where your legs meet.

Something stirs in your core, comes alive as you think of how long it’s been since you last felt someone. A few months, it has to be. A fellow graduate, if you remember correctly, that stupid robe still on his shoulders as he let his mouth come down on you.

Your hand is soon on your core, before you really notice, mind on a mission to recall the hazy encounter. When you think of his tongue, messy yet eager, your finger’s already on your clit, pressing against it with a tease of pleasure. When you think of his cock, uncut and thicker than your ex, splitting you open on his bedroom floor, your hips cant up against yourself, chasing friction. When you rewind how soft Joel’s hair had been between your fingers, your free hand grips one of your breasts, fingers pinching at your nipple.

Your eyes snap open.

Joel’s hair.

Joel.

Something you should not be thinking of right now, hand buried between your thighs.

You wait a few seconds, remind yourself of the graduate’s face.

His blue eyes, your fingers roll over your nipple.

His blonde hair, your legs spread wider.

Joel’s solid chest, your fingers dip inside your cunt.

Your breath is shaky, Joel’s annoyed groan echoes.

The shame of it, of thinking of him, is almost as tantalising as touching yourself, fucking your own hole full with as much of your fingers the angle will allow. It’s a one time thing, you justify. You just need to get it out your system. One and done, cum and done. No more of Joel Miller between your thighs, this is the closest he’ll get.

Someone knocks at your door.

You nearly miss it over the sound of your breathing, the pounding of your heart.

“Who is it?” You don’t like how weak you sound, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Another knock.

“Can I come in?”

A hand still between your thighs, orgasm titering on the edge, body fully submerged in lukewarm water. “No!”

“Ain’t safe to leave your door unlocked. Anybody could walk in- Jesus!”

You’ve never screamed louder.

Joel takes up most of the bathroom doorway, same clothes save for the shirt that’s got two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. You’re pressed right back into the bathtub, as physically far from him as you can get, knees pressed up to your chest, ankles crossed over.

In Joel’s defence, he’s quick to turn away, presenting you with a view of his back. A hand runs through his hair.

“Why are you in my room?!” You inch even further back, the water suddenly dropping several degrees.

“I asked to come in!”

“And I told you not to!”

“Well obviously I didn’t hear that!”

“Why are you in my room?” You’re back to your first question, eyeing up your towel.

It’s across the room, on the bathroom sink. No way for you to reach it without the risk of him seeing you reflected on something.

“You were late. Came to check if ya tripped on them heels and broke your neck.”

“I,” you’re not sure what time it is with your phone sitting by the bed, charging. That's now five times you've been late in adulthood. “Didn’t realise the time. I can meet you at the bar in ten minutes.”

He nods, and you watch him take a step, then immediately pause. “You know, I’ve heard a few things from passengers…” You may not see his face, but you swear there’s that half-smirk, smug look upon it. It’s practically dripping off his words. “The shower head, fourth setting. Seems to get the job done for most ladies on board.”

Grabbing the closest thing in reach- a bar of soap- you launch it and watch it bounce off his irritatingly wide shoulders. “Get OUT!”

You make it to the Tipsy Byson in 15 minutes.

Dressed more appropriately than the night before, your flared jeans and crop top garner less stares. It’s just as busy, if not busier, yet it’s not hard to spot Joel on a barstool, nursing a glass of something syrupy looking. Behind the bar is Luke, head thrown back at something Joel says.

They’re an interesting pair to observe, you realise as you make your way over. With Luke, so tall, so lanky, so bright-face, his energy warm and inviting, and Joel so- well, Joel.

“There she is,” Luke cheers, a little too loudly, calling attention to you as you slip into the stool next to Joel. “My new favourite customer.”

“Thought I was your favourite,” Joel’s yet to look at you, and it’s a relief. He’s looked at you enough for one day, one week, one lifetime.

“Sorry but she smells better than you, Joel,” the barman winks at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “ Plus, she’s a hell of a lot nicer to look at.”

Joel scoffs, you giggle.

“Not sure about the whole smelling better thing,” your response comes minutes later, after Luke’s already served you a glass of wine and turned away your cash, telling you he’ll put it on Joel’s tab. “But thanks!”

Unprompted and uninvited, Luke bends over the bar and takes an exaggerated sniff. “I don’t know, smell alright to me.”

“Really? I’m not even wearing perfume, I forgot to pack any-.”

“Yeah! Go on Joel, give her a whiff, tell her she smells fine!” There’s resistance on his end, but Luke’s adamant, hand clamped on the back of Joel’s head, shoving him face first into your neck. Joel’s nose brushes against you. You hear him inhale. Exhale. Inhale again, then the urge to cross your thighs begins to nag at you. “Well?”

“Yeah, smells nice- Fine. Ya smell fine.”

“Be still my beating heart! Someone alert the press that Texas said something other than-”

Joel interrupts Luke’s dramatics, scowl on his face. “Don’t you have a job to be doin’?”

Only once the bartender is down the other end of the bar, engrossed in a heated discussion over what beer pulls a better head, does Joel speak again, sipping on his drink. Whiskey.

“So I noticed somethin’, when I was checking your bookin’ info.” You nod, urge him to continue, and take a sip of your own drink. Some country song plays over the speakers and you notice a sudden shake in Joel’s knee, his foot tapping to the beat. “Says there should be two of you in my guide team.”

“Oh,” the lump forming in your throat falls safely back into the pit of your stomach as you take another drink of wine. “Must be a printing error. You know how technology can be, always complicating things.”

“Hmm,” it’s easy to write off the awkward energy between you with the excuse of earlier events, and it’s the first bright-side you find to him walking in on your intimate bath. “Well, you know the drill for tomorrow. 7 am on that deck or I’m-”

“Docking without me, I know.”

You finish your drink first. When Joel orders himself another glass, you smile politely and turn it down. Yawn, then tell him you best head to bed.

Before you can slip out the entry, someone calls your last name. Loud enough to turn more than just your own head.

It’s Joel, approaching you, effortlessly parting crowds through the lively bar as though he is knife and, the people, butter. The loud music seems to ring louder in your ear, impeding you from hearing the words that leave his moving lips.

“What?” You call out, hands clasped over your mouth in an attempt to amplify the volume of your voice.

His response is to step closer, hands holding you in place by the waist as he leans down. A hot breath on your neck, the smell of whiskey on his breath, the soft brush of lips against your ear.

“It’s your turn to bring the coffees.”

series taglist. @auteurdelabre

#joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfic

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ssivinee · 9 months

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✧Elapsed✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x F Reader: Two girls whose families were close at one point, but when their families lost touch, the girls almost forgot the other existed. You are just in time for their party, where you will perform and meet up with the past.

Word Count: 5k

Note: Tatter is portrayed as a MAJOR bitch in this so PLEASE do not take this seriously. this one has also been in my drafts for so long. OH and pov switches in this🤓. everyone's ages are also adjusted to the early 20s. the reader is older than Bada.

TW: Pertains smoking, alcohol usage, catholic religion?????

ANNOUNCEMENT: Reqs are closed for now!

Character Vision Board

"Are you telling me you came home last night, and the first thing you did was party with Haechan?" Yena asks as she sits on your bed with Yunah sitting at your desk, continuing to study for her finals. "I couldn't help it, okay? He asked me while picking me up, and I just went for it."

"Let her be. She came back from a work trip, dude," Yunah rolled her eyes at her sister.

"This is why you never ask Haechan for a favor. You're just gonna party at the end of the day."

You begin to text your cousin as you laugh at the two girls.

This made you laugh. "Dude, these finals are gonna kick my ass; I can already feel it in my bootyhole," Yunah complains, and while her sister gives her a disgusted face, you stifle a laugh, just staring at the two.

"I'm gonna have to head out soon, but you two can just wait for Jieun unnie if you want?" "Nah, I wanna study in the comfort of my room."

"Well, I have to make up a choreo for this week's dance class, so I'm just gonna head out as well."

The sisters began to pack and head out, hugging you as they exited the apartment. You started to change into a black velvet tracksuit set with just a white tank top underneath, then put on some slides as you drove to the studio.

When entering the building, you checked in and went to the room to see Soobin and Jihoon chilling on the black couch. "Hey~ Welcome back," Soobin hugs you as Jihoon continues writing in his notebook. "You can't even look away from the lyrics FOR TEN SECONDS to greet me, your ass," you say as he feels a slap on his head, forcing his cap downward, causing him to sigh.

"My bad, I've been struggling with this song and must finish it by Friday."

"When are you never struggling, dude?" You question as you tie your hair up into a messy bun. With the statement, Hoon flicks you off, causing a laugh to arise. "All jokes aside, why do you need it done by Friday? You never have a deadline for your music."

"It's for Mrs. Lee's birthday party," Soobin says casually, but you grow shocked at the familiar surname. "The Lees?"

"Bada reached out to me through Instagram, telling me she wanted a mini-concert for the surprise birthday party."

You think for a second. You remembered the girl's name but had not heard it for years.

The memories of hanging out with her often were there when you were kids since your families were close, but as you grew up, both sides drifted apart for some unknown reason.

"They said we're all invited too," Jihoon states while quickly writing notes. "Is that so?" You ask, confused, but the two nod in confirmation.

"Well, this weekend is gonna be interesting."

A WEEK BEFORE...

"So why is she coming out with us later rather than now?" Minah questions as she points at me as Bada paces around the room. "She's preparing for her mom's birthday party... Have you not been listening to her the past few weeks?" Lusher counters at the girl, pairing it with a massive eye roll.

"I have to get the invitations out and find some music," Bada mumbled, biting her lip in anxiety. "You still haven't found anyone?" Tatter asks her, and she shakes her head, "Why not try asking Park Jihoon?"

The tall dancer stares at her with a puzzled look as she shows her phone, "Park who?"

"You don't know Park Jihoon?" CheChe asks the older while thumping her forehead. "She barely knows anybody but us. What did you guys expect?" Minah points out while applying her gloss.

"Jihoon is super known on campus for his music. He has songs that aren't provocative, and he does small concerts at parties if you ask and pay him."

Kyma explains as you begin playing a few songs that didn't have the explicit next to them, and Bada admits that she found a good tracklist for the party already, plus she thought her mom would like it. "Alright, I guess I have to reach out."

She DMs Jihoon on Twitter, and thankfully, he responds within a minute.

"Well, he said yes, quick," She told the girls, and Minah shrieked. "We really get to meet Jihoon???" Lusher asks, almost as excited. "Yeah, and he says I don't even have to pay him; he just asked to bring his partners and friends."

"So strangers? Maybe you should ask him for names," Sowoen shares worryingly, and Bada agrees, going back to texting him.

While waiting for Jihoon's list, Bada returned to her computer, checked the lists of people, and sent out invites. That was until her phone got a notification. Since Tatter had her face ID on the phone, she opened it immediately to see Jihoon's friends.

"Bada... you're gonna have to see this," Tatter tells her surprisingly, causing the other girls to look at us curiously.

She rushingly checked the DM to find a list of nine names and saw familiar ones among the eight. "Choi's? Like the ones that used to hang out with us years ago?" Tatter takes Bada's phone and checks the first user, eyes widening. "Is this the Gyuhan Minhyun-oppa used to hang out with?"

The latter grabs the phone out of her hands and looks at the page. "Holy shit, no way," as soon as Tatter connected the dots, Bada checked their names on Instagram. She kept scrolling down to see the final one. "Y/n..." The page was private, but she would always remember that girl.

"Choi Y/n??? As in, the kid you used to hang with?" Tatter asked again as she checked the phone. Bada spaced off, trying to remember my last memory with the girl.

FLASHBACK

"Okay, so we're gonna have the girls line up and hold the basket of flowers; they'll slowly make their way to the altar," the project leader told the families, and the girls could be seen in pretty dresses.

It was for a holiday at church, and the girls had to dress up and get all pretty to walk around the church. Almost all the families were there, but they were missing one. You sat next to Yunah, wearing a velvet pale yellow dress with a white cardigan, while your cousin wore a long sage green dress as Yun was taller then.

Every family was only waiting for one more group, the Lee’s. They were a well-known family who always helped with fundraisers and beauty pageants. So everyone knew that the youngest girl in their family would wear the prettiest dress by far, and they weren't wrong.

Bada Lee entered in a light blue gown-like dress that reached the floor and white mini heels. She had her hair in a braided bun and wore a light pink gloss with mascara. Sure, it was minimalistic, but everyone always found Bada cute. You, on the other hand, were already growing into her features.

You were a year older, and many boys found you attractive. After all, you were a child model at some point, which should say a lot in itself. "Y/n!"

The two hugged, and Bada sat beside the two Choi's. "You look pretty in your dress, unnie," Bada compliments, but all you can do is look down with a whinny face starting to form. "Thanks, but I already wanna rip off the dress and set it on fire."

Bada giggles, but you were so serious deep down. Being at the now, age of 12, self-identity was a struggle.

Not that you hated the dresses. You even felt pretty in them. Still, there were times when they were beginning to become uncomfortable for you.

"Girls, we need a photo of you three, please," The three smiled wide, not knowing that was the last time the two families would see each other.

PRESENT TIME

Neither you nor Bada knew why the families stopped contacting each other. To their knowledge, Bada’s parents and your aunt were close friends, but that was the only thing keeping the two connected.

"So let's do your lines, then the adlibs for this song?" Soobin's voice was snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah," you sip the bottled water and head into the booth where she stayed for almost the rest of the night.

Once the three of you finished and headed home, you opened the door to be welcomed by Jieun unnie setting up the table for dinner. Once she notices you, she rushes forward with a tight hug, "Gosh, it's been so long."

"Unnie... it's been 3 weeks," you tell her sarcastically, and she hits your shoulder with a tiny grin. "Did you call Mom while you were there?"

You stayed silent momentarily, knowing you were about to be scolded whether or not you said the right thing. "Y/n!" "Unnie~ you know Mom is just gonna lecture me about dating a boy instead and tell me to take over the company, so why even stress myself."

She sighs, "Look, I understand speaking to her is frustrating, but one, it's not like you don't like men, and two, all you have to do is text her for her to at least know you're alive."

"I doubt she cares," you mumble as she gathers the last pot of food. Come on, let's just eat and talk about this later.

"Wait, unnie, did you know about the Choi's party?" She nods.

"Jihoon got us all invited," Jieun takes a bite of rice and meat, not noticing the smirk on your face. "So~ you excited to see Minhyun-oppa?" She chokes a little, making you rush to give her water.

"Don't do that~" Jieun keeps hitting me as you laugh. "How about you? You were a little close with Bada when you guys were younger."

Hearing that, you pause for a second. "I honestly don't know how to feel... it's been years, and I'm 95% sure it's gonna be awkward."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, Bada wasn't the most outgoing either. We were both shy. She only hung out with that Tatter girl while I hung out with Yun and Ye. We only talked when we were comfortable with the people around us. I just know it's inevitable, unnie."

She nods in understanding, and you both continue to eat in comfortable silence.

The next day, you woke up, got ready with some coffee, and headed to the studio. You, Jihoon, and Soobin were working on 2 more songs today, and you had to tweak an individual project before sending it to a large record label. And that's what was done for the next few days leading up to the party.

It was the day before the party, and Tatter went to Bada's house as usual. Bada scrolled on her phone, taking a needed break from the hectic days due to the party planning while Tatter rummaged through the girl's entire closet.

Tatter was usually content with her style, but knowing the Chois were coming put her on the edge for some reason. It seemed like everyone was becoming like that due to them.

Minhyun seemed agitated and made sure he looked good in the mirror every day since Bada told him about the family coming over. Then Sunghoon kept cleaning his room and secretly bought alcohol for him and Haechan.

Bada seemed to be the only calm one in the house right now, not seeing what the big deal was.

"Why are you like this? It's people we used to know as kids, not celebrities or anything."

"That's what you'd think with a private Instagram," Tatter said as she walked out with one of the maxi dresses Bada owned. "But search Y/n on Twitter."

She returns to the closet, and as Bada is about to do what she is told, Minhyun stops by her room. "Does this shirt look good on me?" Bada peaks up at her older brother with a confused yet disgusted look.

"Uh, you look fine?"

"You're literally no help," Minhyun leaves disappointed. At the same time, Bada shrugs her brother's antics off and begins to search, but she finds this massive account just by typing half of your name on Twitter. She sees your partially covered profile pic, but Bada could tell you definitely grew up "nicely."

Maybe sexy was the better word for that.

Though, no matter how hard she looked, she found no other photos of you. You shared paintings, drawings, pottery, photography, and book quotes. Still, the most significant thing was the collaborations you've done.

Bada only discovered that you were a songwriter, producer, and singer. Even working on projects with prominent artists like SZA, Labrinth, Jhené Aiko, Dani Leigh, Giveon, and Khelani.

This intrigued Bada; she never knew you were so artistic. The things you created drew her in without even noticing she was in the depths of your Twitter. "Well?" Tatter comes out with the dress of her choice and sits next to her best friend.

"She's definitely something."

"More than something, she's sexy as hell," Bada knew Tatter was attracted to women. Still, she also knew her best friend had never pursued one. "Are you gonna make a move?"

"Nope, I'm gonna sit there, look pretty, and have her come to me," Bada shakes her head at her best friend's words, "Of course, that's your plan."

"It always works."

Well, let's just see about that.

"Yo, Y/n, what's the fit for the party?" Saerom asks, eyeing you as you stress over the wardrobe choices. Meanwhile, Mia's just chilling on the Choi’s couch, scrolling through her phone.

Mia's rocking dark blue denim shorts, a light blue long-sleeve vibe, and some killer platform sandals. Saerom, on the other hand, is flexing an ivory long-sleeved bodycon dress with off-the-shoulder action, paired with cute baby pink heels.

You, usually the style queen, are surprisingly indecisive today. "Why you lookin' so anxious?" Mia calls her out, but you keep it mysterious, not saying a word. Saerom and Mia exchange raised eyebrows, like, what's going on with you?

Finally, deciding on a fit: baggy ripped jeans, a tight-cropped white v-neck, and a Yankees jersey left unbuttoned. Mia's like, "Seriously? After all that stress, you pick something so casual? Work trip vibes, for real."

You grin, "Hey, sometimes you gotta make it look like you didn't try too hard." Saerom jumps in with a flirty smirk, "Impressive. Trying to keep it low-key, but still looking fine."

You fire back, "Well, what can I say?" Saerom chuckles, "If that's the case, I wanna steal you away for tonight." You laugh, "You know I'd let you, babes," you tell her, slightly joking.

You look at Saerom with a slick gaze. The flirting is nothing new. Mia then gags at the sight, "Can you two like not? At least not until we get to the party?"

You laugh and change, then slip into some air forces, "Are you ready to see her?" Saerom asks. She knew Bada existed in my life, but they were never friends.

As you were in your head, your phone began to ring, and you saw that Yena was calling me. "Yo, wassup?"

"Tell me how I saw Tatter at the store, and we didn't have the greatest interaction," you were taken aback, "THE Tatter? As in Bada’s other half, Tatter?"

"YES, what other Tatter is there?"

"Wait, so what happened?" You went to the kitchen to get a drink and sat on the bar stool. "So I was picking up some iced coffee for Yun and me when I was waiting for my order, and she walked in. Bro, I tried to be friendly, say hi, and ask her how she's been... SHE LOOKED AT ME UP AND DOWN, MADE A DISGUSTED FACE, AND THEN SHE RESPONDS 'I've been fine,' IN THE SNARKIEST TONE IVE EVER HEARD."

You reacted in disgust and scoffed, "Ew, dude." "I KNOW, RIGHT?"

"Just don't talk to her at the party later," You try to reason with her, but all she says is, "I wasn't planning on it," making you laugh. "Alright, I'll see you later, girlie." "Bye~"

You head back into the room and find Saerom applying lip gloss in front of the modern vanity, "What was that all about? I literally heard Yena screaming from all the way here."

"Apparently, she saw Bada's best friend, and it wasn't the greatest interaction." "Oh, what happened?" Mia perks up, loving to hear some tea. When you told them the situation, both of their faces went sour. "Ew."

"That's exactly what I said," you tell them, giggling at the similar reactions. "Makes me not want to go to that party, honestly," Saerom says.

"Hey, she's not gonna be the only one there. Maybe you can hook up with one of her friends," You tease Saerom, and she scoffs. "Please, you know there is only one person who knows how to please me, right," she raises her brow, and you reciprocate the same look, causing Mia to groan, "Ugh, not again, guys."

As the party was already beginning, Bada and her brothers were helping Jihoon set up the stage and equipment. He was the first out of his friends because he wanted to ensure there were no technical difficulties.

"You think appa is doing a good job distracting eomma?" Sunghoon asks his older siblings. "I mean, she hasn't texted us yet, so that's saying something," Bada tells the two, and they laugh in agreement.

"Yo, Soobin and Jaeseok are here. I need to help them get the setup out of the car," Jihoon tells us, walking through the driveway gate.

"So~ You guys ready for the Chois?" Minhyun oppa asks us. "I'm ready for the chaos they're probably gonna bring," Sunghoon smirks. "Kinda ready for some drama, too," Bada shrugs.

"Hey, girl~" Bada looks at the entrance to see her friends walking in with gifts in their hands, "Hey guys, just put everything on that table over there."

Soobin and Jaeseok begin to walk in with large boxes, with Jihoon behind them carrying Mics. "Hey, Soobin and Jaeseok," I say with a wave, and the two boys smile. "Wassup Bada," Soobin greets her with a hug while Jaeseok looks at her, "You grew up nicely, puppy," This causes Soobin to elbow him.

"Don't mind him. It's just Jae being Jae," Bada laughs at this cause of the nickname and knowing Jaeseok never changed as a child. "So when are your cousins getting here?" Minhyun oppa asks as he greets Soobin with a bro hug. "They should be here in about 30 minutes. Maybe 10 for Haechan. The dude can never resist being early to a party."

"He better get here soon 'cause I have whiskey in my room, and it's waiting for him," Sunghoon butts in. Bada rolls her eyes, and the girls help us set up to help with the time.

By our hour deadline, everything was finished, and family began to roll in. Bada went inside to prepare while Sunghoon and Minhyun oppa entertained the guests.

She wore a plaid mini-skirt, a baby pink tee, a white denim jacket due to the breeze, and some plain sneakers. Then, she styled her hair in a simple high ponytail to complete the outfit.

As she returned to the living room, Bada saw all the girls waiting for her, and Tatter excitedly ran up. "They're here. I REPEAT they're here." She moves over to the window in the front and sees two cars with a group coming out of each. That's when her eyes landed on the familiar individual.

As if on queue, her heart begins to race, and the palms of her hands get sweaty. You were even prettier than I imagined you to be... also taller than she thought.

No way she was gonna survive this day without having a tiny panic attack.

The Chois enter through the back, greeted by some Lee family members. "Holy shit, is that who I think it is?" The cousins hear a familiar voice and turn to the backyard door to see the infamous Lee Sunghoon.

"Yo, Hoon! What's up?" Haechan gives him a bro hug. "Dude, long time no see," you greet him with a small hug, "Don't mind me, gonna help Jihoon with final touches."

Sunghoon stares as you walk away and turns back to Haechan, "Bro, she's so fine now."

Haechan's face goes sour, "That's literally my cousin. Shut up, please." "Besides, she likes women more than men," Yena perks up and kills Sunghoon's mood slightly. "You were always so fun, Ye," both give each other a sarcastic smile. "See, that's why Yunah was my favorite."

"You're not my favorite, though," she butts in again, killing Sunghoon's mood. "I'm hurt."

Jaeseok laughs at the interaction, but before anyone can say anything, Bada and her friends come out, and she rushes to the mic. "Guys, eomma is coming home with appa in a minute. So we would appreciate it if you guys get ready to surprise them."

You look to the front of the stage and see the middle child. Safe to say, you were mesmerized by Bada. You couldn't help but check the girl out as she gave the announcement. "Take a picture. It'll last longer," Jieun says as she sips her juice. "I just might," the latter smirked, causing her older sister to choke on the drink and elbow her. "OUCH."

Everyone began to hide, and as people heard the more mature voices, they all got ready in anticipation. "Oh, jagi, did the kids do this for me?" A woman's voice could be heard, and that's when everyone pops out.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" The Lee couple comes into everyone's view, and tears can be seen in Mrs. Lee's eyes. Once she sees this, Bada runs up to her mom for a hug while her siblings are behind her.

This puts a smile on your face, a daughter with a loving mother. Something you wish you had at times. The family then tells everyone to enjoy themselves and go eat.

You then go over to the family and greet their mother with a happy birthday. "Oh my gosh, Choi Y/n? How has the family been?" You smile as you hug her. "My cousins and I have been good, but I'm unsure about my eomma and ajumani." Before the older woman could reply, Jihoon called you over for the song that had to be performed.

"You're gonna sing for me?" Mrs. Lee gets excited and smiles as you nod. "Well, come get a drink later and catch up with Bada." She hugs her daughter, causing you to grin, and says, "I'd like that."

Bada's face forms a rosiness at the seductive tone and lingering gaze.

You hop on stage and smile at the crowd, "Hello, I'm Choi Y/n, and today I'll perform 'Longevity' with my cousin Soobin and best friend Jihoon."

The youngsters crowd around the stage and jam out as Bada joins her friends. "Did you know she can sing?" Kyma asks while jamming, "No, actually."

"Well, she's hella good, too," Lusher says as she jumps. The Lee couldn't agree more with her. Your voice had a raspiness to it, and she noticed Tatter looked like she was about to eat you up.

After a few songs, you and Jihoon stopped as Bada, her friends, her twin, and the Choi cousins went inside to drink since the party in the yard was full of kids and older adults.

The two singers walk in, and the group cheers for them, "You guys were sick as always," Soobine tells them. "Thanks, Binnie." You make a rum and coke, then greet Bada with a wave. "How are you?"

"I've been good," the two give each other a quick side hug, and Bada whiffs your fruit-like scent. You sit near her and beside Yunah, while Tatter sits beside Bada. Jieun, Minhyun, and some older friends were still outside with other guests, not wanting to be with the "youngins."

You all chat a little, even catching up with Bada. The multiple topics discussed led to talk about school. "You're in uni, right? What are you majoring in?"

"English," Y/n pauses, "You seem more like a performing arts kinda girl, no?"

Bada thinks, "I could be pursued to change majors." You smirked at her and were about to tell her how fun it was, but you got a call. Seeing the name causes you to roll your eyes, "Sorry, let me take this call."

You walk out the front door and answer the call, "Yes, eomma?"

"So you weren't even going to invite us to that party?" You scoff and furrow your brows. "It's not my party to invite you to; only Jihoon invited us."

"You're still hanging out with that lazy no future singer? I told you several times to stop being friends with him."

"And I've told you you can't control me like your puppet many times. If that's all you called me for, I will go."

"Wait, Y/n, I'm not finished-" you immediately hung up. The wave of anger washes over you, and you take a puff of the flavored smoke.

"Isn't it bad for a singer to smoke?" You hear a voice behind you, and you turn to surprisingly see Tatter walking over to you. "Eh, I'll manage."

"So~ You did amazing out there, by the way." "Thanks." You cut short, seeing her twirl a strand of hair around her finger. She gives you these seductive eyes, "So, are you seeing anyone right now?"

"Uh, no?" You shift slightly, remembering not liking the story Yena told me about their interaction. "Well, do you maybe wanna go out sometime?"

"No, thank you."

Tatter moves back in shock, "Wha- what, why?"

"Not really looking for anything right now," You make up on the spot, and she smirks, "This could be a casual thing?"

"Again, no, thank you," you head back into the house, leaving her there. As you sat back in my seat, Tatter was storming into the house, angrily making her way up the stairs to the second floor. Bada's face is painted in concern, "let me go check up on her."

After she leaves your side, you decide to get food with Yena and catch up with Gyuhan and Minhyun. As you ate some noodles, Bada came out and said, "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

She pulls you to the side as you continue to eat, "Can I ask what happened between you and Tatter? She told me not to worry about it, but I just wanted to ensure it was all good."

"Your friend tried to make a move on me, and I said no," you say bluntly. "Sorry to say, but my cousin and her didn't have the best interaction, and I didn't want to deal with that."

"That's fair, actually. I thought it was worse than that."

"Sorry about her, though," you wave her off as if it wasn't her fault. "Wait, you like girls?" You pause at the sudden question, "Yeah."

"How'd you know?" You stare at Bada for a few seconds, "Are you questioning your sexuality, Bada?"

She plays with her hands in nervousness, "Kind of." You smile at her, "And that's okay. You have to go through with it yourself. Someone usually makes you realize it, though."

"I see," she thinks for a second, "We should go back to drink a little bit."

"Sure," you giggle at her nervousness.

After a few hours, everyone had a few drinks, and you could tell Bada was feeling it as her flirtiness became bolder after every sip of the alcohol. She would caress your arm if you made a joke, stare at your eyes and lips, biting her lips after her little giggles.

It almost drove you mad.

You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and go upstairs. After doing your business, you washed my hands. You heard a knock on the door, "Hold on!"

As you dry your hands, you open the door to find Bada rushing inside. "I need to know if I like girls now."

You stood there shocked, almost not knowing what to say, "How do you want me to help you?"

The two of you stood there for a few seconds as you waited for an answer when suddenly Bada grabbed your face and aggressively kissed you.

Your eyes widened open in shock. You couldn't reciprocate fast enough as she pulled away. "Are you not okay with this? Like I can always stop-"

Without another thought, you pulled her in by the waist as your lips attacked hers. Your bodies generate some heat, and you carry her hips to set her on the sink counter.

"I've been waiting for this ever since I walked through that gate," you mumble into her lips. You feel a smirk form on her lips and think more devious because of this. Your tongue made its way to hers, showing clear dominance as it played with hers. The wet feeling makes it difficult for either of you to keep your hands off each other.

Bada moaned at the feeling, grinding her hips onto your body as she pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around your neck. Your hands placed themselves on her waist, and Bada almost whimpered at the feeling of your grip. You bit down on her bottom lip, slightly, and moved your way to her neck.

The girl bit her lip, trying to keep in any whimpers or moans that could possibly leave her mouth, trying to make the least amount of noise. Your hands were about to unbutton her skirt, but you paused as you both heard Tatter's voice outside the bathroom, making you pull away slightly. "Will your friend be okay with this?"

"She doesn't have to know," Bada says, causing you to smirk. "I didn't know you were so naughty, Bada," you teased, and she smiled.

You help her fix up, knowing people would look for you two. You adjust Bada's top with your long fingers, pulling the shirt down a little as she stares at herself in the mirror. "Well, did I help answer if you liked girls?"

"Oh, most definitely."

Fun Fact: this was originally a Yeji fic🙈.

Taglist (OPEN): @bada-lee-ily @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @nimixe @lorenztired @sammybeefangirls @cephox @1luvkarina

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