#I get the whole regret/moving on from the past theming. like that part makes perfect sense
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turbo-virgins · 5 days ago
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not to sound like your high school english teacher preaching about something as stupid as online discourse about a fantasy rpg, but some of y’all should maybe include textual evidence in your arguments cause sometimes I genuinely don’t know what the hell you’re talking about 💀
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riversofmars · 3 years ago
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Interrupting my usual broadcast of DW fic to bring you another British gay mess: Please enjoy my first attempt at Caroline/Gillian! And as if I haven't got enough WIPs on, this is gonna be four parts, as it turns out! I don't know why I'm like this :D Anyway here we are due to popular demand!
Gillian takes Caroline up on her offer of moving in together and pooling their resources. A month has gone by and Caroline is surprised at how easy and comfortable life on the farm has become. The arrangement works for both of them: Gillian's financial struggles are a thing of the past and while it isn’t exactly the traditional family set-up Caroline would have wanted, Gillian turned out to be exactly what she needed in a partner to help raise her daughter. Adding romance to the otherwise perfect set-up is a pipe-dream on the headteacher's part, but the more time she spends with the sheep farmer, the more drawn she is to her. Rating: M (language & sexual themes)
Home Is Not A Place - Part 1: The Dinner
“For goodness sake,“ Caroline groaned, as she stepped out of her SUV and right into a puddle. Resigned to her changed situation, she decided from now on she would have to switch shoes after work, from her favourite heels, to a lesser loved pair. There was no two ways about it. But at least then there would be absolutely no danger of ruining a two-hundred pound pair of Jimmy Choos, upon her arrival at Greenwood farm. Of course she wouldn’t mention this to Gillian, God no, otherwise her Christmas present to her might end up a new pair of wellingtons.
In the open court yard of the farm, the wind was biting cold and encouraged the headteacher to hurry up the stairs to the relative safety and comfort of the house. Caroline cursed under her breath as the wind wreaked havoc with her hair, and the cold crept up her legs, underneath her woefully-inappropriate-for-farm-life pencil skirt. The British weather was really giving its all this year to live up to its reputation. Well in the grip of Winter already, it only took Caroline to stay late at work by an hour - like today - and night had already fallen. Preparations for this year’s Nativity were gathering steam and - being the hands-on headmistress she was - there was no way Caroline would allow the theatre department to shoulder the burden all on their own. Working late would usually have required a lot of planning for a single parent such as herself, but things had gotten a lot easier, recently.
“Hiya Caz,“ Gillian called from the lounge, when Caroline closed the front door of the farm house behind her and smiled at the chipper greeting.
“Hiya!“ She called back and pushed her soaked shoes into a corner. With any luck, Gillian wouldn’t spot them and she could deal with them later. The sheep farmer would only get suspicious if she lingered in the hallway for too long. “Evening,“ Caroline smiled as she stepped into the living room. Flora and Calamity were sitting on the sofa in front of the tv, dressed in pyjamas. She walked over to them, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head and then, for good measure, repeated the gesture on Calamity. The girls were the closest of friends and since Caroline and Flora had moved in at the farm, they had become closer still - almost like real siblings - and Caroline had found herself treating them as such with increasing frequency.
“Wet out, is it?“ Gillian smirked, observing Caroline’s dishevelled head of hair, drawing her attention. The sheep farmer was leaning against the kitchen counter, mug in hand, assessing her over the rim of it.
“What’s this?“ Caroline raised her eyebrows, as she spotted two - and only two! - places set at the kitchen table, complete with wine glasses.
“Girls have eaten. Just having a bit of telly before bed,“ Gillian explained, nodding towards the pre-schoolers that were engrossed in their cartoons. “Lasagne is in oven, thought you might be hungry, with your long day n’all.“
“You made lasagne?“ Caroline asked, though it sounded more bewildered than she had intended. It wasn’t uncommon that Gillian would cook for all of them. She was the one at home, her work was here, it made sense. Caroline was a woman of science, of hard facts, so she liked things to make sense. But for some reason, coming home to Gillian Greenwood - who had cooked for her and looked after her daughter - was still something of curiosity, despite empirical evidence to the contrary. Caroline was still not quite used to it, no matter how much sense it made.
Caroline had managed to convince Gillian of the sense behind them pooling their resources not long after she had floated the idea for the first time. Her and Flora moved in at the farm a month ago, and much to everyone’s surprise - and her mother’s dismay - it worked surprisingly well. This was not the first time she had come home to a cooked meal, it was becoming a regular occurrence, so Caroline was at a loss as to why this time, it felt different. Perhaps it was the absence of Raff and Ellie who - as Caroline now remembered - had been invited to Ellie’s mother’s to parade around the little one. Perhaps it was because there were only two places set at the table. Or perhaps it was the warmth of Gillian’s chuckled as she replied:
“Well, had to make something.“
“You really didn’t have to, I don’t… expect to come home to a home cooked meal every day,“ Caroline felt obliged to state, just for the record, though she knew that Gillian would do whatever the bloody hell she wanted anyway. It wasn’t like Caroline - or anyone else for that matter - had any bearing on what this infuriatingly independent and bull-headed woman did or didn’t do.
“Nice though, innit,“ the sheep farmer shot back with surprising enthusiasm. “Guess that was part of the deal. Least I can do, mind the kids and cook you some tea.“ She gave a shrug like it was nothing; when to Caroline, it was a huge deal. This wasn’t something she would have admitted to, of course; just as she wouldn’t have admitted that there was something very appealing about coming home to Gillian.
“I’m not expecting you to pretend to be my stay-at-home housewife or something, Gillian,“ Caroline tried to brush it off with a joke.
“You better not. Cause that’s not me,“ Gillian retorted with good-natured humour, and it struck Caroline that she was a far cry from the tense, short-fused woman she’d met seven years ago. It was moments such as these, that the headteacher realised how much she had changed. Healing would be too strong a word for it; Caroline couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly heal from what Gillian had been through, but she seemed to be doing, better. She seemed more comfortable in her own skin, and more comfortable with her life. Secretly, Caroline hoped she had contributed to her wellbeing in some small way; even if it was just by giving her the security that she wouldn’t have to give up the farm.
“Don’t I know it,“ Caroline chuckled. “Wine, too, is it?“ She picked up the bottle on the table and checked the label. It was one of her favourites and for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether Gillian had remembered, or if they’d still had that bottle lying round somewhere. “Is there a special occasion? One month since we moved in?“ It wasn’t like she had been counting…well, she had. But only to be able to lord it over her mother about how long they had managed to stay under the same roof, without tearing each other’s heads off…or each other’s clothes…she added as an after thought. But only for her own amusement, not for public consumption.
“I guess I just…wanted to say thank you…for agreeing to this,“ Gillian huffed, suddenly appearing self-conscious, as if she wondered whether she had made a mistake. Caroline felt guilty immediately. For someone with self-esteem as fragile as Gillian, doubts came quickly, and cut deep.
“It was my idea! It’s to both of our advantage. I couldn’t have carried on the way it was, particularly now that our parents aren’t…able…to help as much as before…“ Caroline was quick to assure her. It had made a lot of sense, and she was glad she had managed to persuade Gillian of the proposal’s merit. Even once their parents had volunteered the money to pay for the work on the roof, it didn’t change the fact that Gillian was barely breaking even financially. Certainly not with the sheep that had escaped a few months ago, and once Raff and Ellie moved out - which was only a matter of time - they wouldn’t be contributing anymore, either. Gillian needed someone with her, and Caroline was more than happy to be that person, for numerous reasons. Some of them she cared to discuss, like the practicalities of it, some she would keep to herself, thank you very much.
“Just wanted to say, I do appreciate it, Caz,“ Gillian interrupted and held her hands up, as if she just had to get that out there - and would shut up now that it was said. “And I hope you’re not gonna regret it.“
“Gillian, we’ve known each other seven years now,“ Caroline couldn’t help but point out, as she set the bottle of wine back down on the table. “Yes, we’ve had our ups and downs, but all things considered, I think we’re about as steady as our parents, don’t you think?“ She gave her a soft smile. They really had come an incredibly far way since they first laid eyes on each other. To this day, Caroline was still embarrassed about her behaviour on the day they’s met, and was beyond relieved that with time, Gillian had come to see the funny side of the whole thing.
“Suppose so. Just without the sex,“ Gillian snickered and took a sip of her tea, hiding her grin in her mug as she seemed to relax again.
“I don’t want to think about our parents having sex, thank you very much!“ Caroline exclaimed, mortified, and quickly turned to check the girls hadn’t accidentally overheard. To her relief, she found them still very much engrossed in their tv show.
“God no. I don’t know if they still can, I mean, at their age…“ Gillian huffed, matter-of-factly. “And with his heart too, better mind his blood pressure hadn’t he… Mind you, probably wouldn’t be worst way t’go. Right in throes of…“
“Yes, right. That’s it, change of subject please!“ Caroline shook her head vehemently and Gillian laughed.
“Go and get changed, didn’t mean to ambush you, it’ll keep.“ She gestured to the oven. “I’ll get little ones in bed.“
“If you’re sure.“ Caroline glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realised how late it was. “How about bath time?“
“All this fun stuff you miss out on when you work late. It’s done and dusted. Go on. You don’t wanna be throwing lasagne down that fancy blouse o’ yours,“ Gillian observed, nodding towards her cream blouse.
“Right.“ Caroline gave a soft smile and watched the sheep farmer gulp down the rest of her tea, before sitting it down in the sink.
“You want me to make you a cuppa first?“ Gillian asked, seemingly confused as to why Caroline hadn’t taken her up on the offer yet, instead lingering in the kitchen.
“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll have wine if that’s going,“ Caroline answered quickly, snapping out of her moment of marvelling at how bloody perfect life was right about now to retrieve the corkscrew.
“Well, you know where everything is by now, don’t you. It’s your home too,“ Gillian observed, with an ease that astounded Caroline, that Gillian didn’t seem to think anything of. She just headed to the sofa where she put an arm around each of the girls from behind. “Right you two monsters, show’s over, off to bed wi’ you,“ she announced, leaving Caroline to forget all about the wine. She just watched the display of perfect family life in awe.
——
“Is it bad that I’m sort of looking forward to Raff and Ellie moving out?“ Caroline mused, watching Gillian’s reaction over the rim of her wine glass. “With the baby and everything, the walls aren’t exactly thick.“
“You knew that before moving in,“ Gillian pointed out. She wasn’t unkind about it, she was amused if nothing else.
“Yes, and I’m not complaining. I just didn’t think I’d be doing this still, at gone fifty, I mean…I’m just glad Flora is through the worst of it now.“ Even now, there were still times where Caroline wondered whether she was too old for all this. She had two grown up sons, starting again with Flora and doing it all on her own had been tough. Thankfully, finally, she wasn’t alone anymore. It wasn’t exactly the traditional family set-up she would have longed for, but she knew Gillian would be everything Flora needed in a second parent. She could also be everything Caroline needed in a partner, but that was just wishful thinking on the headteacher’s part. She would content herself with the way things were, as it was shaping up to be everything she wanted, just sadly minus the romance.
“Nowt saying William or Lawrence couldn’t have started early,“ Gillian retorted and Caroline laughed:
“William? Please!“ They were on their third glass of red and Caroline was feeling warm and relaxed. Her reactions had lost the restraint and reservedness she usually maintained with people, even the ones closest to her. “And Lawrence needs to seriously work out whatever he is doing with his life. And with Angus!“ She had often wondered about his relationship with his best friend. At this point, things could go either way.
“Fair. Not much of a chance of getting knocked up there,“ Gillian chuckled.
“Raff’s done alright though, hasn’t he. Becoming a dad so young and still seeing through his education and getting a good job at the end of it, it’s quite the accomplishment,“ Caroline smiled and delighted in the way Gillian’s face brightened with pride.
“He’s a good boy, our Raff,“ she commented, and Caroline was determined to push the matter over the finish line:
“That’s a credit to you. He couldn’t have done it without your support,“ she added kindly, as she put her cutlery down. Dinner had been a delight, but then by this point, Gillian could have probably fed her anything and she would have thanked her with a dreamy eyed smile. Caroline felt the warmth radiating from her cheeks; a combination of wine, the fire going in the adjoining room, and her own conflicted feelings towards her step sister. For the sake of her own sanity, she refused to refer to her as that whenever possible, particularly in her own head.
“More like in spite of me,“ Gillian huffed, her mood swinging like a pendulum. She had been much more steady in recent years, but that wasn’t to say she was free of the crippling self-doubt that always chose the most inopportune moments to rear its ugly head. “Never would’ve happened wi’ someone else. Not like your boys went and knocked up their girlfriend, is it.“
“Don’t be ridiculous,“ Caroline cut in quickly, but Gillian just downed the rest of her wine and carried on:
“You know it’s true, ‘as bad as his mother’ is what they were saying, and if they weren’t, they were thinking it.“ She gave a bitter laugh that stood in stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere they had enjoyed.
“You have many flaws, Gillian, it’s part of your charm, but being a bad mother? That’s certainly not one of them.“ Caroline was quick and decisive, in intervening. There had been times where she had been quite happy to shoot a snide comment her way herself, but not anymore.
“Hm.“ Gillian’s response was minimal, which indicated to Caroline that she hadn’t listened or taken in what she’d said.
“It’s not!“ She insisted firmly.
“Alright!“ Gillian exclaimed, exasperated.
“Do you think I’d have come here, to live with you, having you help look after my daughter, if I didn’t think you were a good mother and a good person?“ Caroline leaned forward onto her elbows, regarding the farmer with a stern look that she had perfected in many years of teaching.
“’suppose not.“ Gillian folded, just as one of Caroline’s six-formers would have done.
“Well then.“ The headteacher straightened herself up again and proceeded to divide the rest of the bottle in between their two glasses.
“Their faces. When you told them.“ Gillian suddenly burst out laughing and Caroline grinned, recalling the conversation in vivid detail. The pendulum that was Gillian’s emotional well-being, had swung back around.
“Of all the stupid, stupid videos Lawrence has done… that would have been the moment to capture,“ she shook her head to herself, remembering how comical and surreal the whole thing had been.
“It was your Mum more than me Dad, that face she pulled!“ Gillian couldn’t stop laughing; it was infectious and prompted Caroline to launch into a scarily accurate imitation of her mother:
“Caroline, you can’t really be considering moving to a farm, and HER farm of all places. Is that any way for Flora to grow up? What if she…catches something or…“ Caroline could hardly breathe for laughing. “Honestly Mum, what is she gonna catch? Fresh air?“
“Touch of the common farmer, more like,“ Gillian grimaced, but she didn’t seem to care, not really.
“Like she’s never stayed here herself.“ Caroline rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy.
“I think she was more concerned with me, than the farm,“ Gillian pointed out, taking a deep breath to calm herself down - but her face continued cracking up and gave her away.
“Well obviously.“ Caroline just waved it off. They were both used to her mother’s strong opinions, and readily chose to ignore them.
“What will you be doing with Gillian around all the time?“ Gillian tried herself at Celia’s accent which caused Caroline to launch into another laughing fit.
“I don’t know, Mum, maybe we will have a wild sapphic love affair,“ she reprised her witty response with tears of laughter in her eyes.
“You nearly gave her a heart attack an’all,“ Gillian snickered.
“Well, it’s none of her business.“ Caroline took a deep breath, regaining some small measure of self control. “And really, she only has herself to blame. If she hadn’t been on at your Dad about lending you that money, and then telling me they wouldn’t be picking up Flora anymore, none of this would have happened.“
“So really, we should be thanking her, shouldn’t we.“ Gillian grinned after brief contemplation. “To your mother.“ She raised her glass and Caroline toasted her:
“I’ll drink to that.“
The evening wore on, and just as they contemplated opening a third bottle, Raff and Ellie returned with the baby, who was sleeping soundly in his car seat. Thank God for small favours, Caroline thought. They had cleared up from dinner and were lounging on the sofa with the telly on.
“Mum. Caz. Alright?“ Raff greeted them.
“Had a good evening?“ Gillian asked, looking around.
“Yeah great thanks,“ Ellie smiled in response and made her way up the stairs with the little one.
“You watching University Challenge, Mum?“ Raff asked, bemused, as he noticed the program they were watching.
“Through no fault of my own!“ Gillian was quick to point out. She shot Caroline a look who was sitting to the other end of the sofa.
Caroline considered it a safe distance, but not as safe as the other sofa would have been. It was one small thing she allowed herself. It was innocent enough, and Gillian didn’t seem to think twice when their legs intertwined on the two-seater.
The sheep farmer carried on explaining their television agreement to her son: “We compromise, see, she gets to watch something she wants and then I get to watch something I want.“
“Trust her to chose the most obnoxious thing she can possibly find, just to wind me up,“ Caroline interjected but without averting her eyes from the screen. She mumbled the answer to yet another obscure question under her breath.
“Sounds about right,“ Raff chuckled and Gillian leaned over the back of the sofa to slap her son’s arm.
“Remember, it’s a school night,“ she pointed her finger at him.
“Bit rich coming from you.“ He eyed their empty wine glasses. “I feel like the alcohol consume in this house has sky rocketed in the past month.“
“Yeah, well, got to knock ourselves out somehow between the baby crying and you two going at it,“ Gillian quipped, and returned her attention to the television as well.
“You’re just jealous cause you haven’t go a fella right now,“ Raff teased.
“Yeah well, I’m over that for the time being,“ Gillian gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Think you’ve finally gone through all the eligible bachelors in West Yorkshire?“ Caroline saw an opportunity to jump in and tried her best to keep the smallest twang of jealousy from her voice.
“And some of the ineligible ones too,“ Raff added, with a smirk.
“OI!“ Gillian exclaimed, shooting him a glare and kicked Caroline’s leg for siding with him.
“I’d better see if Ellie needs some help…“ Raff was quick to make his escape.
“Yeah, you’d better,“ his mother shouted after him.
“I have to say, you have come a long way since we met. From having three blokes you’re shagging staying over in this place,“ Caroline couldn’t help but comment, recalling the fateful night their parents had gone missing and they had stayed at the farm with Gillian’s three merry men - Paul, John and Robbie - all crammed onto these sofas.
“Bet you wouldn’t have come to stay then, would’ya,“ Gillian hummed, her voice surprisingly neutral.
“Could have joined that exclusive club,“ Caroline smirked, the alcohol loosening her tongue enough to make a joke, one too close to the truth for comfort. She forced herself not to think about what else she could be doing with her tongue right about now.
“Caz!“ Gillian exclaimed, and the headteacher couldn’t quite tell whether she was offended, self-conscious or flattered.
“It really is easy to tease you,“ Caroline back-peddled to safer waters.
“Yeah well, you’re living with Yorkshire’s greatest slapper so jokes on you,“ Gillian huffed. “Watch your f-bloody University Challenge.“
“Hm, yes, what will people think,“ Caroline chuckled and did as she was told.
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bobohu4eva · 4 years ago
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Pink Lace - Chapter 7 (M)
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)
Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn
Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.
Word count: 4.4k
Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, smut (nothing too wild this time)
Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @strawbaeri-s
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Friday went by in a blur. You finally wrote your essay, which was sent to Baekhyun after you got home from class. Class. It had been hard. Really hard. The material was challenging too, but you were more focused on how sexy Baekhyun looked in his nice professor clothes. How had you gotten this lucky? You laughed like an idiot when he saw you and innocently pulled down the hem of his shirt with one eyebrow raised at you, making fun of the marks he had so graciously placed on your neck. Lucas had seemed to notice the marks as well, since he seemed weirdly focused on his work and didn’t speak to you at all, a nice change from his usual nagging about why you wouldn’t text him back.
You couldn’t stop thinking about work the next day. Baekhyun would be there again of course, and this would be the first time for you to see him there after admitting your feelings. It gave you whiplash how quickly your opinion of him had changed in such a short time, but you had no regrets. If the last two weeks had taught you anything, it was to not second guess yourself. You were ready to get in there and give the man the lap dance of his damn life, and hopefully more. Oh how you looked forward to it.
Saturday morning, you got down to business. Of course you always tried to look a little extra nice when he’d been there in the past, but today was the real deal. You needed to be fully exfoliated, face-masked, and beautiful. There was no such thing as over preparing. Not today. You even used one of those bath bombs with glitter in it so your whole body would shimmer under the club lights. 
You made a point of it to wear the same outfit you’d worn the first night he’d met you; a baby pink lace bodysuit with generous cutouts, a thong, and sparkly white heels. 
You left ample time to make sure your hair and makeup would be perfect as well. For the hair you’d opted to keep it down and add a little bit of curl, as for makeup, you wanted to positively sparkle. For the first time since you’d started working as a dancer, you tasked Mia with doing your makeup since she was more skilled at it than you. 
“So you want a lot of glitter and glowy-ness, right?” She asked as she dabbed foundation on your cheeks.
“Just make me look like the goddess I am.” You said, closing your eyes and smiling at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue beating your face. 
“Got it boss.” 
After what felt like forever, she finally turned you around to look in the mirror. Your jaw dropped. She’d done your makeup before for stuff like prom when you guys were younger, but she had really outdone herself this time. 
Your skin looked like it was glowing from within, with flecks of holographic glitter sparkling every color of the rainbow across your cheeks. Your eyeliner was perfect, and she’d even overlined your lips a bit and added some highlight onto them to make them look extra kissable. It wasn’t too much, just the perfect amount to spice up your features and make you feel like a million bucks.
“Holy shit Mia I love you. I look hot.” 
“You’re really gonna give him a hard time tonight.” She winked at you, and you decided you wanted to give him a bit of a preview, tease the man a little. 
You and Baekhyun had been texting each other pretty consistently for the last couple days already. You slipped into your designated outfit for the night and took a few pictures to send him, only showing little parts of you at a time. You selected your two favorites, and hit send. 
You: (5:46pm) I can’t wait to see you later ;)
Baekhyun: (5:52pm) Holy fuck. You know what that outfit does to me. 
You grinned down at your phone at his reaction, heart fluttering and butterflies flying about in your belly. This feeling was so disgustingly sweet, but you loved every second of it. 
After changing back into your regular clothes, you packed your outfit and got ready to leave after having dinner with Mia. 
The club opened at 7pm sharp, and you were there right on time. You went back into the dressing room to change into your carefully selected lingerie and shoes, adding a spray of your favorite perfume as a final touch before getting back out onto the floor to start your night. 
“Holy shit Candy.” You heard your manager say as you signed in for the night. “special occasion?” 
Tonight, not even his comments could dampen your mood. “You could say that.” You replied cheerfully before sitting down at the bar where you usually waited until Baekhyun arrived. 
After sitting for a little while you were called up on stage, so you walked across the room, making sure to sway your hips on the way, and walked up the stairs to the platform with the pole. 
You walked slowly around the pole a couple times, getting into the feel of the music. Luckily the dj was on your side tonight, and was playing something slow and sensual enough for you to really get down to. You started to do your usual thing, a couple little spins on the pole, a bend over and shake of the ass here and there, before slowly laying down for some floor work. There were already a decent amount of people in the club, and a few had come up to the stage now to tip you. For maximum tips, you spent a little while in front of each of them either playing with your boobs in front of their face or turning around and shaking your ass as they threw money at you. 
The way your club worked was you did one song with your outfit on, and the second song topless. When you heard your fist song coming to an end you stood back up, turning around to face your back to the room as you took it off, to make for a more dramatic reveal. You slowly peeled the thin fabric of the bodysuit off, stepping out of it leaving you in only your thong and shoes. 
When you turned back around, Baekhyun’s eyes met yours from across the room. He must’ve walked in as you were facing the wall. 
Immediately you grinned, and he looked just as thrilled to see you as well, sitting down at the empty table closest to the stage. He never tipped on stage, you assumed because he was shy about standing up there in front of everyone. Not that you minded, since he always paid you generously anyway. But tonight you didn’t even care about his money. 
It seemed he’d put some extra effort into his look for tonight as well. 90% of the time when he would come in he was in sweats, but not today. His black jeans hugged his thighs in a way that made your mouth water, and the fitted white shirt he wore showed off the broadness of his shoulders wonderfully. His black hair was styled out of his face and his glasses were hanging off the neckline of his shirt, further defining the swells of his chest. 
Oh how you had missed this. Seeing him here, absolutely enamored with you. 
You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and got back to dancing, this time paying special attention to his side of the room. You made sure to send little smirks his way as you did your thing. Once you’d made your way back onto the floor of the stage, you laid on your back on the edge closest to him, arching your back and running your hands up and down your bare body suggestively as you locked eyes. 
He looked like he was about to faint. 
Eventually the song came to an end. You gathered all the cash that had been thrown at you and got your outfit back on before walking off stage and directly onto Baekhyun’s waiting lap. 
“If you’re trying to kill me, it’s working.” You giggled at his words, blushing. 
“Thank you, I know this is your favorite outfit on me, right?” You asked, gesturing down to your lacy pink bodysuit. 
“Of course.” He was smiling so widely, you thought this might be the happiest you’d ever seen him before. “You look so good tonight, you always look good of course, but holy shit. You’re really so beautiful.” 
Your face turned an even deeper shade of red, the way he was looking at you would’ve made any girl swoon. Oh how beautiful he was as well. 
“You’re literally sparkling.” He observed, looking down at the skin of your thigh and all the little silver flecks that were reflecting the spotlights as they moved around the room. “I’m gonna be covered in glitter when I get home aren’t I?”
You laughed, “Yeah, sorry.”
“Oh the things I do for you.” 
“I missed this, the two of us hanging out together here, like this.” You whispered in his ear. 
You could feel just how warm Baekhyun was. His cheeks were the cutest shade of pink. 
He cleared his throat before speaking. “Are you gonna be mad if I take you upstairs before ordering us drinks? I don’t think I can wait tonight.” He swallowed. 
“No, I think that’s a great idea.” 
“Then I need you to get off my lap babe.” You happily obliged. 
As you made your way across the room towards the stairs together, your heart rate began to increase. Never in your life had you been this nervous to give someone a dance. Or maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Anxious. You were anxious, not nervous. You weren’t scared, you just wanted to do your best to make him enjoy himself.
 The both of you knew it wouldn’t be a normal lap dance today. You wouldn’t just dance for a few songs and then sit and talk like usual. There was no way either of you would have the self control to keep it at that. 
When you finally got into the room Baekhyun handed you the usual stack of cash, and you started pulling down the straps of your bodysuit when he stopped you.
“I, um, can you keep it on actually? Nothing against your boobs, they’re great, but I just really like this on you.” He said as he sat down and put his glasses on. 
You laughed, but put the straps back in place. “Whatever you want.” 
Usually, you’d set a timer for an hour. Tonight you didn’t bother. 
You got right to it, sitting yourself in between his spread legs and leaning back against his chest. You rolled your body over his to the music, before turning your head to once again whisper in his ear. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” 
You turned your body to face him, both hands running up and down his chest. You could feel how fast his heart was beating beneath your palm. 
“Can I touch you?” He asked. 
After considering it for a moment, you leaned in towards his ear again. 
“You can do whatever you want.” Your bottom lip grazed his earlobe as you said it, and you saw him shiver. 
Not a second later you felt his hands start to explore your lace covered torso.
“God, this is a criminal piece of clothing. Why is it so soft.” His hand eventually found it’s way to your neck, where he moved your hair out of the way to admire the marks he’d placed upon it. “So beautiful.” He murmured as he traced his fingers across the trail of bruises he’d left you with. 
You stood back up straight in front of him, turned around, and bent over, running your hands across your whole backside and down your thighs. For the first time, his hands made contact with the bare skin of your ass. 
“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.” 
You turned to face him again, planting a knee on either side of his left thigh. “I told you. Whatever. You. Want.” You paused between each word, just to make it a little more dramatic. He swallowed. 
It was true. If he decided he wanted to fuck you right then and there, you weren’t going to stop him. 
“Really? Anything?”
“Anything.” You repeated. 
He was still staring into your eyes, looking slightly concerned, but he found no reason in them to not believe you. You truly wanted him to do whatever he felt like doing with you.
“Come here then.” He grabbed you by the waist firmly and lifted you off his thigh, instead placing you atop his lap completely, one knee now on either side of his body. 
You’d never sat with a customer like this. Of course you’d sit on their laps facing away from them all the time, but this felt so much more intimate. You felt the hardness beneath his pants against you, close, too close, to where you wanted him the most. You put your hands back onto his chest and just stared back at him with wide eyes.
“And I can touch you anywhere?” 
“Anywhere you want.” You confirmed. 
He looked down from your eyes to your chest. One of his hands crept up from your waist, over your ribcage, until he let it rest over the fabric supporting your chest. He ran a thumb over your nipple where it was hiding beneath the lace, causing you to inhale sharply. 
Immediately his eyes shot back up to yours, still worried that he was somehow making you uncomfortable, but the look on your face quickly washed his worries away. He felt your heart beating beneath his palm the same way you’d felt his earlier as well. 
“Are you s-sure you want me to keep it on?” You asked shakily. 
Instead of answering he slipped a finger beneath each of the straps and dragged them down your shoulders until your chest was once again bare. He hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted you to keep it on, but taking it off himself seemed like an even better option now. He bit his lip as he watched the fabric give way, exposing you to him. He stayed silent for a second before finally speaking. 
“So, so, perfect.” 
You were sure he noticed your whole body flush red at his statement. 
His hands were soon back on your ribcage, pulling the bodysuit further down your torso until your entire upper body was naked. Your cheeks were starting to go numb from the excitement and your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could hear it too. 
The entire time he undressed you, your eyes were fixed on his pink lips. Oh how they were tempting you. You didn’t remember ever being this turned on in your life. Once he’d had a minute to stare at your chest you quickly took the item off the rest of the way before returning to your previous position straddling his lap. 
His hands were warm on your waist as he pulled you closer towards him, until your chests touched. His face was close enough to yours that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. You both just stared for a moment, until something in you snapped and you closed the distance, bringing your lips to his. 
You swore there was something about the taste of his lips that was like a drug to you. The second you touched your mouth to his, your whole body felt electrified. Was this that fireworks bullshit people always talked about?
He returned the kiss the passion, but you could tell unlike in his office, he was now taking his time. Your lips moved against each other slowly as you let your fingers run through his hair. It wasn’t rushed, he let his lips move at a relaxed pace as he started to explore your mouth with his own. You felt his tongue ask for entrance and parted your lips, allowing you to taste each other. 
You felt one of his hands start to move upwards from your waist, to your ribcage, until it found the soft flesh of your chest, squeezing slightly, causing you to let out a soft moan. 
“I’ve fantasized about this so many times.” He broke away from the kiss just enough to get the words out. “You have no idea.” 
You shivered at his words, feeling how they made the knot in your stomach tighten in excitement. When he moved his hand to your other breast and flicked a sensitive nipple with his thumb, you moaned out his name shamelessly.  
“Fuck, you sound so hot”
His kisses moved from your lips, down your jaw, and to the side of your neck. He placed a gentle kiss beneath your ear giving you chills, before pressing his lips softly to each of the purple marks, making his way all the way down to your collarbone. The whole time his hands continued kneading your chest, making you nearly lose your mind. 
You had been touched before, but not like this. You realized that the handful of boys you had allowed to touch you in the past hadn’t known what they were doing at all, Baekhyun did. His expert hands worshipped your bare skin expertly as he continued placing soft kisses down your neck, this time without any sucking or biting that would leave marks. He was enjoying you slowly, softly, but you were impatient and wanted more. 
“Baekhyun, please” you whined. 
“Please what?” 
“Touch me.”
“I am touching you.” 
You let out another annoyed whine, wanting, needing, something more to relieve the unbearable tension that was building between your legs. After another few seconds of waiting to see if he’d finally do anything more without any luck, you took matters into your own hands. You started to roll your hips against him, feeling the hardness in his pants through the thin fabric of your thong. 
His hands flew down to your hips, gripping them firmly in an attempt to stop your movements, but you continued anyway. After several more rolls of your hips over his hard length, he gave in.
“God, y/n.” He breathed out, voice shaking slightly. “Shit.” 
He began to grow needier as well, eventually using his hands on your hips to guide you, rather than stop you, as you continued grinding against him. 
Your lips crashed into each other once more, this time with more desperation. He sucked, bit, and licked at your lips, as you did with his. He kept one hand on your hip, sliding down to grope your ass as the other made its way back up towards your chest. The hand on your ass squeezed and pushed you forwards to the beat of the music, pushing you firmly against the tent in his pants. 
You still wanted more. You wanted him to touch you everywhere, and you wanted to feel him. In a feeble attempt to try to convince him to give you what you wanted you snaked a hand between your bodies, running it down his chest and then his stomach until you got to the top of his jeans. You let your hand inch down just a little bit further, until you could palm him through his jeans. 
This time you let your kisses travel to his neck, before whispering in his ear “Please, I need more.” You could hear the neediness in your voice, but you were way too turned on to feel any shame. “Baekhyun, please.” 
He already felt like he was about to burst just with the way you rolled your hips against him. It took every ounce of self restraint in his body not to just yank his pants down, rip off your underwear and shove himself inside you. Feeling your hand over his cock, hearing you literally begging him for more, was too much. 
“If you don’t stop I’m gonna come.” He said, sinking his fingers into your thigh hard enough to bruise, bringing your ministrations to a halt.
You leaned back slightly to look at him and saw his eyes closed, brows furrowed with a pained expression on his face. He was really having to hold himself back. You let out a disappointed sound that was somewhere between a whine and a moan. 
“That’s okay though.” You honestly wouldn’t have minded, it happened fairly often anyway when you gave lap dances, nothing you weren’t used to. “Please?” You continued to beg, resuming the movement of your hips as well. 
A muffled “Oh my god” was all he could get out before his hands were back on you.
He still wouldn’t touch you the way you wanted him to, leaving you more and more wound up and desperate as you whined in his ear with every roll of your hips. His eyes were still closed and his head was tipped back against the couch, giving you access to the smooth skin of his neck. You left kisses all over the soft skin as you kept up the motion of your hips, and you knew he was about to crumble. 
You weren’t doing much better yourself. His hands found their way back to your chest, kneading and pinching the sensitive skin perfectly, reducing you to a quivering mess above him. The tension in the pit of your stomach kept building, and you knew you were close as well. 
Not a minute later you felt your release crash over your body as you shook against him, letting out a sound of pure euphoria. He seemed to notice, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for another searing kiss. You kept moving against him and soon felt him go rigid as well. When he came he held you against his body so tightly, kissed you so hard you forgot your own name for a second. All that mattered in that moment was how good the both of you felt, panting and shaking as you slowly recovered from your highs. As your breathing gradually slowed down, you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in bliss. 
To your disappointment he pushed you back by your shoulder, pulling you out of your dream-like state. 
He was shaking his head, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”
Instead of listening to him try to apologize for nothing, you shut him up by cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. “Thank you.” 
You smiled at him brightly and he returned it ten fold. You swore that smile was like sunshine even on the darkest day. You let your head rest on his shoulder once again, and he rubbed soothing circles onto the bare skin of your back. 
“I was gonna apologize because I really wanted to save this for after I took you on a real date.” 
You leaned back up to look at him once again, giggling at his words. “If anything you should be apologizing for not fucking me for real. But does that mean you’re asking me on a date?” 
“No! I mean... not yet. I want to do it right. Ask you out properly. But you make it so fucking difficult, you know how hard I have to hold myself back? You’re one hell of a temptation to resist.” 
You only rolled your eyes at him, “You’re the one choosing to hold back, if it were up to me you would’ve bent me over your desk Wednesday night already.” 
He chuckled, “I know the way we met is... different, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be swept off your feet. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I treated this like nothing more than some heat of the moment fling. I want more than that, I hope you do too.” He said, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.  
“Yeah, I do.” You blushed, looking down to avoid his gaze. Here he was, once again making you flustered with how honest and open he was about his feelings towards you. 
The way he smiled back at you, and the admiration you saw in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. You brought your lips to his, and this time, you weren’t fueled by lust. The two of you just enjoyed the feeling of the others lips, basking in the softness and intimacy of it. 
Eventually he pulled away, and cleared his throat “I hate to ruin the moment, but I kind of wanna get home and shower. I told you to stop if you didn’t want me to but you kept going so...” 
You pouted, but he was right. You’d brought this on yourself. “Okay” you sighed. 
After getting off Baekhyun’s lap you got your bodysuit back on, but before you could exit the room together, he grabbed your wrist. 
“Come here.” He pulled you towards him, placing his hands around your waist, and you let your arms rest on his shoulders. He looked at you again with those same eyes from earlier, but this time he held your gaze much longer, and with much more intensity. Something felt different this time when he looked at you, like he was trying to tell you something just with his eyes. He brought a hand up to your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You’re so pretty.” 
You felt yourself go pink, and smiled as he pulled you in for one last kiss, this one even sweeter than the last. 
Eventually both of you went back downstairs, you disappeared into the dressing room to get ready to leave, and Baekhyun went straight to his car. 
On your way home you kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you before you both left. It had somehow felt different, more intimate. His gaze had held so much emotion, you wished you could look inside his head at what he’d been thinking. You had been kind of surprised when all he said was that you were pretty, something he’d told you a million times before, so why was it so different this time? Why did it feel like it meant so much more? 
The last kiss as well felt too sweet, far too romantic for the time and the place. He was always completely open with his feelings, and of course you knew he liked you, but you couldn’t help but feel like there were some unspoken words in the way he’d looked at you just then. 
Maybe, just maybe, it could be love. 
Next Chapter
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hello my favorite writer it is me again i was wondering if i could have another will imagine (gn as usual) and could it be about a reader who feels insecure about being wills partner because they’re still working on being famous and feel like they’re mooching off of wills fame and end up pushing him away slightly and it’s angsty, but ends in fluff with will finally telling them he loves them and reassuring kisses <3
Favorite writer?? You flatter me, darlin', but thank you!
Also, so sorry this took so long! I've been really unmotivated/lazy lately and I wanted to write this as perfect as I possibly could. Also also, ya know how the Powerpuff Girls were made? Sugar, spice, and everything nice but Chemical X was added accidently? Yeah, this is that, but replace Chemical X with a lot of angst. My bad.😬
WARNING: Depressing themes throughout
~~~~~~~~~~
It wasn't often you felt insecure, but you figured it was just one of those days.
You hadn't been in many blockbuster films or tv shows, you were still working hard on your career. You loved the indie projects you worked on, you loved any job where you could act. It was your passion, after all.
You couldn't help feel a little bit insecure when your partner, Will, was where you aspired to be your whole life. He was brilliant, working with amazing people like Tom Hardy and Leonardo DiCaprio. So early in his career too. You looked up to Will so much, praying that you'd be just as talented as him one day. But you knew it wouldn't be easy, acting isn't exactly the easier job in the world, you knew it would take a lucky break.
You always joked that maybe you should work as a waiter in some restaurant, knowing that Edward Norton got his first movie role while working in such a place, only to move on to work beside the amazing Richard Gear.
It was just one day you felt bad about your career, but then it started to snowball into anxiety and depression. It got to the point where it was all you could think about, especially when you were out with Will. And you could tell that he knew something was up, the thousand yard stare that you often had was something that couldn't really go unnoticed.
But for the most part, you acted like everything was fine.
You hated that you let your insecurity pile on and on like this, it normally was something you could handle. You don't know what came over you, but you found yourself scrolling for hours looking at comments on any of your posts. Most people were supportive of you and Will's relationship, and you were thankful for that. But of course, there are always a few bad apples.
The wonderful and lovely, supportive comments were many, outweighing the hate by miles. But just one negative comment could throw you off, ruining your day.
You wished you could just focus on the positive, but unfortunately, that's not how brains are designed. It always has to point out a flaw, find that one odd man out, find the error in the system. Usually, most of those errors can be fixed. You spent your entire life trying to get people to like you, being somewhat of a pushover and a people pleaser, disregarding your own self in favor of praise. So seeing people online hating you for no other reason besides being with Will, seeing that they might never change their minds, it was devastating.
You knew that the hate would usually come from obsessed fans who must've been jealous of you, and you could understand that and it was fine. You remembered the younger years of being jealous of a person who dated your crush, it was something that most people grow out of thankfully. You could get over those comments, saying you weren't good looking enough or not fit enough, any comments about your appearance. The ones that really got to you was the comments about your "horrible" personality.
It was odd, people saying awful things about you when they didn't even know you at all. Most of the contradictory was were amusing. There was a point in time after your relationship with Will was made public, where you'd feel to nervous about going to red carpet events with him. The comments would say, "Y/n's not there with Will? What an unsupportive partner they must be!" or anything similar. But when you started to go with him sometimes, the comments would shift dramatically.
"Y/n's a gold digger."
"They're just using Will for his fame."
"He deserves better than that snake."
It hurt, more than you'd admit. You told Will it didn't bother you that much, just wrote it off that it's normal. Then, you never talked about it again.
You felt awful, every single day. Thoughts of self doubt clouding your brain constantly, thinking, "Am I really deserving of such a kind person like Will?" No matter how you looked at it, the answer was always no.
You started to feel like you shouldn't even be with Will anymore. There was most likely someone else out there, an actor with more talent and more self-sufficient than you were.
You and Will had been together for a couple years, you loved him so much, but when he asked you to move in with him, you said you weren't ready. The biggest lie you ever told, and you instantly regretted it when you saw the disappointed look on his face. But being the gentleman that he is, he said it was completely okay and that there was no pressure.
You absolutely didn't deserve him.
Every time Will asked you to go out with him, you always came up with an excuse to stay home. You felt too anxious about being out in public, the thought of a fan seeing you with Will brought you to the verge of a panic attack. You became distant, trying to distract yourself by throwing yourself into your work. You rarely saw Will anymore, and you knew if you kept up with how you were acting on your insecurity, you'd lose him. But you couldn't bring yourself to try and talk to him about it, you felt too embarrassed.
From Will's point of view, he thought you were becoming distant because of him. He wracked his mind trying to think what was it that he did to make you spend less time with him? At first, he thought, maybe you just needed some space. There were times where he needed to be alone, just like everyone does. But it felt like it was going on for too long. Every time he wanted to take you out somewhere nice, you'd politely decline and you'd opted for a night in.
There came a point where enough was enough, Will was determined to find out what was going on with you.
You stared at your cellphone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Will along with your set ringtone. You sighed, you really didn't feel like answering. You knew you should, but you couldn't bring yourself to. A feeling of dread washed over you, you didn't want him to think you hated him, yet you still couldn't. You rang your fingers through your hair, anxiously scratching your scalp harshly.
Your screen darkened, following with a notification, voicemail and text. "Y/n, what's going on? I've been trying...", you couldn't listen anymore.
"I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered to yourself, wrapping yourself up tightly in a blanket.
You almost screamed when you heard a rapid knock on your door, quickly tensing up when you heard Will call out from outside. "Y/n?"
You wanted to fucking scream.
"I know you're in there, just, please, talk to me."
The desperation in his voice forced you to get up from your couch, tossing away your cozy blanket with a huff. You shakily reached out and opened the door, Will's concerned face filling your view. "...hi."
Will chuckled bitterly. "Hi? That's it? You haven't talked to me in days. What's going on, love?"
"Nothing!" You explained, plastering on a fake smile with a chuckle.
Will smiled sadly. "You're lying." He said simply, pushing his way past you into your home.
"Will, please, I'm not up to talking right now."
"You know, I want to respect your wishes, I really do. But I feel that I've been patient. I've been trying to support you in any way that I can, but I can't help if I don't know what's going on." He sat down on your couch, pleading for you to sit next to him with his eyes. "We used to be open and honest with each other about everything. Tell me what's going on so I can help you."
You huffed, running your hands over your face. "It's not that simple..."
Will casted his gaze to your wooden floor, squeezing his hands together and taking a deep shaky breath. "Is it...is it because it's something I did?"
"What?"
"You're shutting me out. It's because of me, isn't it? I did something-"
"No." You quickly exclaimed, rushing over to his side when you heard his voice waver, taking ahold of one of his hands. "No, it's not you, I promise."
"Then...why? Why are you pushing me away?" Will sighed, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. "Do you not love me anymore?"
"I love you, Will, more than I can express." You chuckled bitterly. "It's hard to talk about."
Will brought a hand up to your face, gently brushing a freshly fallen tear off your face. "You can tell me anything, Y/n, anything."
You smiled weakly, bringing his hand you were holding up to your lips and kissed his knuckles softly. "Okay..." You took a deep breath.
"Take your time, love."
"Being with you, brings me so much happiness that it feels like I'm dreaming. You're so...amazing, and honestly the best and most kind person I've ever met. And I? I feel like I'm nobody."
"Y/n..."
"Compared to others, I'm no one. Just another person trying to live out their dreams that are so far fetched that it doesn't even seem possible to even come close to achieving them. You're so self assured that acting is what you were born to do and you're so talented. I envy you, and I feel so guilty feeling that way. Sometimes I feel like I wasn't meant to be an actor. I feel like...I'm trying to run towards my goal, but every time I make progress, the goal moves farther and farther away until I can't even see it anymore."
"Y/n," Will started softly, "I know how you feel. I've felt that way about my career too. I always wondered if there was going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, you can work as hard as you humanly can, but it also takes luck. You just have to be at the right place at the right time sometimes. That's why they call it a lucky break, ya know." He smiled, making you giggle tearfully.
"I know, but that's not all." You frowned. "I know you said, it's just better to ignore what the internet has to say, but...I was looking some of our comments a few months ago. And...I just went down a fuckin' rabbit hole. I know I always say that hate comments don't bother me, but...they do. They really do, and I let them get to me. I'm sorry."
"No, darling, I'm sorry. I didn't see what was really going on when I should've."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Will. I thought I was stronger than this."
Will quickly brought you close to his chest, wrapping around your torso with one arm, the other gently cupping your jaw. "Hey, you are the strongest person I know, okay? Don't think you're weak just because you're feeling something that every human on planet earth feels. Whatever those comments said, there's no one I'd rather be with than you." He leaned forward and kissed you gently, pressing his forehead against yours.
"I felt so embarrassed, Will. I wished I had talked to you sooner."
"It doesn't matter now. You opened up and I'm proud of you for that. I love you so much. And I promise to try my very hardest to never let you feel that way again."
~~~~~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed, @fcvcritecrime ! 🖤
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alicanta77 · 4 years ago
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Pairing: y/n x Jeno
Themes: angst, fluff
Warnings: death, injury, survivors guilt and a whole bucket of angst - really prepare yourself
Words: 11.5k
Synopsis: Jeno thought he had life pretty much figured out. He had amazing friends, a very supportive family, the career he had always dreamed of and fans who loved him from all over the world. It looked as if there was nothing more he could want. But something was missing from his life and Jeno couldn’t figure out what it was. Then, one morning while he was on a run, he spotted you. And suddenly Jeno found his life had a whole new meaning to it. The two of you fell in love harder and deeper than anyone had thought possible, and it seemed like, finally, the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. But life isn’t always a smooth ride, and sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to. And Jeno finds himself learning and experiencing things he never wished he’d ever have to.
This story is part of the ‘Sometimes Letting Go’ collaboration organised by the absolutely brilliant @rvse-hvvck <333
tag list: @xysabellex @aconeptun @jeongyoonohs @pewpewpwe00 @lebrookestore @moon-jun​
——————————————————————————
Sometimes letting go, hurts less than holding on
——————————————————————————
Jeno still remembers the first day he met you. He was in the park, having decided to go for a run on the morning of his day off, wanting to feel the fresh air after being cooped up in the practice room for the past two weeks. He was trying to find the motivation to move faster than a sluggish walk, his muscles arguing with his mind, when he looked up and saw you. You were leaning over the river, watching as the water passed by underneath you and Jeno couldn’t help but stare. He pulled his headphones out of his ears and just observed the beautiful girl he saw before him. 
He watched as you looked up and he quickly tried to look away, in an attempt to act as though he wasn’t just creepily watching a stranger in the park. You let out a giggle and Jeno thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
‘Can I help you?’ You asked, a kind smile on your face.
‘Hi, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I just...’ Jeno wracked his brain trying to think of a way to explain himself before giving up and deciding to just go with the truth. ‘You’re really beautiful.’
You didn’t react for a second, making panic run through every vein in Jeno’s body. But that soon relaxed when a smile made its way on your face and you let out a little embarrassed laugh. He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh himself at his blunder, relieved that you hadn’t run away from him already.
‘You’re not that bad yourself.’ You replied, the nervousness you were clearly feeling obvious in your face and words. ‘I’m y/n.’
‘Jeno.’ He introduced himself. 
And that was where it all began.
---
It didn’t take long for Jeno to become completely infatuated with you. You had the kind of energy that just drew people to you. Everywhere you went, you radiated a kindness that grabbed people’s attention. And before he knew it, before he could stop it, Jeno was smitten.
Jeno learnt pretty quickly that you kept your circle small, choosing the few people you trusted to be close to you, to know the real you. And Jeno wanted nothing more than to be one of those people.
The two of you made it a tradition to go to that same park, once a week, you would go into the nearby coffee shop, grab some food and head out to the river. Jeno kept this to himself, but your trips together quickly became his favourite part of the week.
He never really found time to relax, always being busy with rehearsing or writing lyrics or staying in shape, and he’d always thought he didn’t have the time to form a relationship of any kind with someone. But somehow, no matter how busy he was, Jeno found himself able to make time for you.
It was at that same park that Jeno asked you out for the first time. He had just bought your favourite order from the coffee shop, and was ready and waiting for you when you arrived. You came jogging up to him, slightly out of breath and with a slightly red nose from the cooling autumn air.
‘Sorry!’ You breathed, pausing for a second to calm yourself. ‘I was really late leaving the house and then I got stuck in traffic so I ran as soon as I could.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’ Jeno chuckled, handing you your coffee and pastry. ‘I don’t mind waiting for you.’
You took the order out of his hand, smiling up at him in gratitude.
‘Thank you for ordering for me, I’ll get the next one. And yes I did, I didn’t want to leave you waiting. Plus it’s hard to find time together so I want to make the most of it when we have it.’
The two of you began to walk, staying close to the riverside as you headed towards the sheltered spot you always went. It was hidden slightly in the trees so that Jeno could take off his mask without worrying about who would see him.
It had become almost a kind of safe haven for Jeno, a place where he could be himself and not have to worry about what anybody thought. He had always felt comfortable being his true self around you, you had always encouraged him to drop the image he had to wear any time there was a camera around him, and he appreciated that more than he let you know.
Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off you as the two of you walked. There was a small light in your eyes as you talked about your recent piece of work that you were avoiding, laughing at yourself and claiming how much you knew you were going to regret it but that was a problem for you in the future.
Jeno laughed along with you, so taken in by the melodious sound that escaped your lips that he almost walked past your usual spot. You reached out to grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks as he stared down at your intertwined hands. You nodded your head down to the ground, gesturing that you were here and silently pulled him down to sit next to you.
Jeno couldn’t quite get over how perfectly your hand fit in his, the way your fingers curled tightly around his made him never want to let go. And it was in this moment that he realised, this wasn’t just infatuation.
He wasn’t sure what it was. He didn’t think it was love just yet, but it was definitely something more than just a crush. Whatever it was, Jeno wanted more of it.
He tore his eyes away from your hands to look at your face, only to be greeted with your gaze already on him. Your eyes were fixated on his and your lips were slightly parted, with small breaths escaping them.
God you were beautiful.
‘Can I kiss you?’ Jeno whispered, and it took about a millisecond before he started mentally cursing himself in every language that he knew. He almost wished Jaemin were here so that he could slap him on head.
Jeno was about to take it back, to apologise and make up something about being so worn out recently that he wasn’t sure what he was saying, until he heard your reply.
‘Yes.’
Your voice was soft, almost inaudible, but your words were louder than a scream to Jeno. It took him a minute to actually register that you had agreed, but when it finally sunk in he refused to waste any time.
He leant in, delicately cupping your face with his hands and closed the gap between the two of you. His lips pressed gently to yours and you leaned further into him. He pulled away soon, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable and opened his eyes to look at you.
He moved his hands from your face as he took in your expression. Your eyes opened slowly, immediately finding his and conveying all that they needed to say.
You reached up with your hands, this time placing them on his face and pulled him in again, kissing him with more passion. Jeno’s arms wound around your waist, pulling your body closer to him as he kissed you back.
The two of you seemed to move closer together and each second passed, wanting nothing more than to leave no space between the two of you. Eventually you pulled away, the need to breathe breaking the perfect kiss.
However, you didn’t move away from him, instead staying close enough that Jeno could rest his forehead on yours. He kept his eyes shut, imprinting this moment into his memory so that he would never forget it.
‘Be mine?’ He asked breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to officially be able to call you his, and kiss you like that whenever he wanted.
You didn’t reply, making a stream of panic flood Jeno’s system as he began to worry that he had spoken too soon or moved too quickly. But then, you spoke the one word that made his heart soar.
‘Always.’
---
Jeno laying facing you, one hand gently stroking the hair out of your face as you lay on the other. He looked into your eyes, memorising the swirl of colours that always enchanted him. You were staring back at him, the only noise in the room being your soft breaths.
Jeno had come to love nights like these. Before, he would just head back to the dorms, play games for a couple of hours and then sleep. But recently, he’d been finding it difficult to relax if he didn’t have you by his side. You had some kind of power over him, Jeno just found himself relaxing under your touch.
This wasn’t the first time you were spending the night, you had come over for dinner to meet the boys a while back, and a sudden storm had broken out, preventing you from getting home so Jeno had offered for you to stay the night. The boys had all loved you, so none of them minded, Jaemin even going as far as to bribe you with a cooked breakfast the next morning. The two of you had fallen asleep on his bed together, you begging him not to sleep on the floor. Ever since that night, he’d secretly been needing you in order to fall asleep.
The last time Jeno had checked his phone, the time had been 00:36, and that had been a while ago. He watched as your eyes began to flutter shut slightly, but you forced them open.
‘Can you get me talking on something?’ You whispered. ‘I don’t want to fall asleep just yet.’
‘Do you think a person can give you infinity?’ Jeno mumbled out, just saying the first thing that came to his mind.
You were quiet for a second, thinking about your answer before replying.
‘Yeah, I think so. When you’re lucky enough to find someone who you love, and who loves you like that, I think it is an infinity.’
‘But things always end? One way or another, you know, you break up, someone moves on, or even if you stay together all your lives one of you will eventually die, leaving the other alone. And it will end.’ Jeno replied, frowning as he tried to understand your point of view.
‘I don’t think anything ever really ends, not a story, not a relationship, not a life. You always see traces of it anywhere you look. Things live on, not in or as themselves, but in other people, in the lives of others that they touched, that they had an impact on.’ You explained your point, your voice still at a low volume, as if you would destroy the atmosphere if you spoke too loud. ‘People carry parts of them with them as they lead their lives, and eventually, pass it on to others they know. Nothing ever really ends because it lives on in everything else.’
Jeno paused, thinking over what you said and found himself nodding.
‘That makes sense.’ He admitted to you, watching as you smiled at that.
‘What do you see in your future?’ You asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Jeno raised an eyebrow, smirking teasingly at you. 
‘What do you see in yours?’
You looked up at him, debating whether you should tell him or force him to speak first. After a short internal battle, you ended up swallowing your pride and being the one to talk.
‘If I’m honest, I want the career, I want to travel and I want to be able to make friends and make mistakes and be stupid, but at the end of the day, when I look further than five to ten years, the one thing I really want is a family. I don’t see massive parties, or constant travelling, I want to have Sunday mornings breakfasts with everyone around the table, I want to push my kids on the swings in the playground, I want to bring them to their grandparents for the day and I want to help with homework. I want a family, and the domestic life that comes with them.’
While you were saying this, the smirk on Jeno’s face had morphed into a smile of pure love. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into his chest as he let out a sigh, dropping his head onto yours and placing a kiss on the top of your head.
‘That sounds amazing.’ He whispered. ‘As long as I don’t have to help with Maths.’ 
He heard you giggle into his chest, your body moving slightly with laughter at his words.
‘Deal. I’ll help with Maths, but that means you have to do science.’ You bargained, and Jeno nodded, leaning in to give you a kiss.
And he didn’t tell you this then, but he hoped with every fibre of his being that he was in that picture.
---
Jeno hit the final pose, staring into the mirror as he breathed heavily. The other six boys around him were in similar positions, all trying to catch their breath after their run through of the dance. They had been in the practice room for over seven hours now, they were tired, hungry, their muscles ached and they just wanted to go home.
The choreographer called for a fifteen minute break, telling them to get a drink of water and then they would run it through one final time. The boys nodded, waiting until he had left the room before they all collapsed onto the floor, the exhaustion of the day catching up to them.
The seven of them lay there, all in an ungraceful heap when the door creaked open again. Jisung sat up in a rush, thinking it was the choreographer, but immediately falling down again when he saw who it was. The confused Jeno, and he was about to sit up and have a look when your laugh echoed throughout the room.
‘I take it you guys are tired.’ You teased, walking through the mess of bodies to greet their manager who was sitting on their phone in the corner.
You didn’t get much more than a few groans in greeting, making you sigh and hold up the bag you had brought with you.
‘I brought food for you guys!’ You announced, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the sudden energy burst in the room.
The boys began to sit up, and you quickly moved into the middle of them, placing the bag down and sitting yourself next to Jeno.
‘What about the choreographer?’ Renjun asked no one in particular.
‘They won’t be back for another ten minutes, just have a snack and drink and, you can stay to eat the rest after we finish.’ Their manager replied from their spot in the corner of the room before turning their attention back to their phone.
The boys all grinned at each other letting out excited shouts as they looked through the food you brought. They all grabbed a snack each, wasting no time in digging in to refuel. 
‘So, what flavour have you got this time?’ Jaemin asked, noticing the cup in your hand that bared the logo of your favourite frozen yoghurt shop.
‘It’s called “Tropical Breeze” apparently and I have no idea what’s in it.’ You informed him, mumbling the last part slightly as you looked at the cold treat you were holding. It was a mixture of orange, yellow and red swirls, with a few white spots here and there. ‘It’s nice though.’
Jaemin let out a chuckle as Chenle spoke up.
‘Do you think this will be the one you get twice then?’
You simply grinned at him, humming thoughtfully before shaking your head in reply.
Jeno laughed at that, accepting the energy drink you held out to him. He took a few gulps, thankful beyond belief that you had thought to refrigerate them before bringing them here. He could feel the liquid cooling him down as he flopped his body down on top of your legs, curing up into you.
You instinctively brought your hand down to his hair, running your fingers through it as he gently hummed happily. For once, the boys seemed to decide to leave the two of you in peace, rather than tease you within an inch of your lives.
‘You tired baby?’ You asked, feeling Jeno nod in response. ‘You’re almost there, the day’s almost over.’
Jeno smiled at that, the simplest words, even ones that he’d told himself multiple times that day had so much more power coming from you. Your comforting whispers, accompanied by the hand you were running through his hair all allowed him to finally catch his breath.
Just at the moment he sat up, the choreographer strutted back in, calling for the boys to stand and run it through one final time. He tore himself away from you, making his way to his starting position as you moved the food out of the way before setting down by the side of the practice room.
Jeno wasn’t sure how you had managed to befriend the choreographer but he was thankful you did, because it meant that you were allowed to sit in the corner and watch their practices sometimes. 
Jeno looked over at you as the music began and you sent him a reassuring nod as he began to dance, suddenly finding himself a lot more energised than before.
---
You knocked lightly on Jeno’s door, keeping it quiet just in case he was asleep. You couldn’t see any light coming from the crack under the door, but Jaemin had assured you that he was still awake. You’d gotten a call from Jaemin, asking you if there was any way you could come around tonight. Apparently, the choreography teacher hadn’t been in the nicest mood today, leaving Jeno to be on the receiving end of his temper tantrum. That, accompanied with a diet and the pressure the boys were under to make this show great, were not adding up to a good day.
You knocked again, this time hearing a small mumble from the inside that vaguely resembled the words ‘come in’. You took that as a sign and pushed open the door slightly to peak inside.
The room was dark, the curtains pulled shut in order to block out any light left in the day, and the bedside light was also switched off. Jeno was a lump underneath his duvet, the cover pulled right up to his face so that you could hardly see him.
You approached him quietly, gently sighing when you saw the state he was in. You sat next to him, softly stroking some hair out of his face and leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.
Jeno sniffed quietly, clearly not wanting you to see him so upset, but you didn’t want to leave him alone right now. You kept running your fingers through his hair, whispering comforting words over and over.
‘It’s okay, you just need sleep and then you’ll be in tomorrow. Tomorrow’s a new day and you can start fresh then. It’s gonna be alright, I promise you.’
Jeno shut his eyes, nodding along to what you were saying, trying to make himself believe it.
‘Do you want me to massage your muscles?’
Jeno opened his eyes at your offer, sending you a sad smile and shaking his head. He instead lifted an arm, opening his duvet to you.
‘Could you just come here?’ He whispered pleadingly to you, wanting nothing more than to just hug you as close to him as he possibly could for the remainder of the night.
You smiled at him lovingly, immediately placing your phone on his bedside table before lying down next to him. You curled up into his warmth, snaking an arm around his waist to give him a comforting squeeze. You felt his grip around you get gradually tighter and tighter, and you nuzzled your head further into his chest, feeling his relax slightly as you did so.
‘I’m going to be here.’ You whispered. ‘When you go to sleep I’ll be here and I’ll still be here when you wake up, I promise.’
Jeno nodded at that, leaning down to kiss your forehead, before shutting his eyes. You leant up to place a kiss wherever you could reach, eventually settling for the bottom of his neck. He smiled slightly, prompting you to do it again.
‘Tickles.’ He muttered, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping him when you did it a third time. ‘Stop.’
You giggled to yourself, glad that he was smiling before sleeping and relaxing back into his embrace. After a short while, the two of you finally fell asleep, both your hearts as intertwined as your bodies were.
You fell asleep first, missing the sentence that Jeno whispered into your hair as he let sleep take him.
‘I love you so much.’
---
Jeno lay on the grass in the park where the two of you first met. He came here quite often, sometimes with you, sometimes alone. But he always came to just remember the day he met you, the day his life changed for the better. Jeno didn’t know where he would be or how he would be living if he hadn’t had the courage to walk up to you that day on the bridge.
He heard footsteps approaching from behind him, and turned to look at you as you lay down in the grass next to him. Your head gently hit the ground, and the two of you turned to face each other, gently smiling in greeting before turning your eyes back to the sky.
As always, the two of you waited before saying anything, just letting the tranquility of the night relax you before speaking.
‘Three stars in a row, completely straight, do you see them?’ You asked, pointing them out as best you could. Jeno nodded, allowing you to continue. ‘That’s Orion’s belt. According to Greek mythology, Orion was a hunter, and a good one at that. However, he was also very proud, he even boasted that he would kill every beast of the earth, and that he was a better hunter than Artemis. This angered Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt, so much so that, to teach him a lesson, she sent a scorpion after him. There was a huge battle between the two, ending in the scorpion fatally stinging Orion. Zeus placed both Orion and the scorpion in the sky, however, on opposite sides of the earth. This is so that their feud will remain in the past, and that is why you will never see Orion and the Scorpion in the sky at the same time.’
Jeno didn’t reply, just simply smiled at the constellation, finding it difficult to take his eyes off it now that you had explained the story.
‘There’s multiple versions to it. One includes Gaia, who is the protector of all animals, and one-’
‘I like it.’ Jeno interrupted your ramblings. ‘Most of these myths have many versions, just tell me your favourites.’ He reached out, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
The two of you continued to lie there in silence. It had become tradition for you to bring a new constellation to your conversation every time you met, and you had decided to find the mythology behind it and bring that too. At first you were worried that you had been annoying him about it, that was until Renjun and Jisung let it slip that he was going back to the dorms and relaying the stories to the boys at every chance he got.
‘You know, I don’t think I’d change anything.’ Jeno spoke, breaking the silence. ‘We always speak about what we would change in our lives, or what we hope to change in the future, but, for the first time, I don’t think I’d change anything.’
‘Really? Not even my habit of taking long showers?’ You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly.
‘Stop it! I’m being serious.’ He whined, nudging you with his elbow. ‘I really don’t think there’s anything major that I would change. I really like things the way they are, and I hope they stay like this.’
You smiled up at the sky at his words, thinking about your own life and whether there was anything you would change.
‘I’d speak to my mum more.’ You admitted. ‘I miss her, a lot, yet every time I have the chance to speak to her, I chicken out. I don’t know if I’m nervous as to what she’s going to ask, or just convincing myself that it’s going to be a drastically long conversation, but... I want to speak to her more.’
‘Why don’t you go for a walk with her instead? That way you can stop at a cafe for a coffee and actually have a conversation.’ Jeno suggested. ‘You have a free morning next week.’
‘I’ll call her tomorrow, and set the date.’
You nodded towards the sky, sealing the promise. It always went like this. One of you would begin to talk, confess something that they wish they were doing differently, and the other would offer solutions. The only catch was, you had to try their suggestion.
‘Did you know that, due to the amount of light years it takes for the light of the stars to reach us, most of the stars that we’re seeing have already burnt out?’ Jeno changed the subject, 
‘The sky’s like a graveyard.’
‘A graveyard of stars.’ You mumbled, not noticing the way Jeno turned his head to smile at you. ‘I think stars are brave, because they shine so brightly when everything around them is dark.’
You turned to look at Jeno, finding him already looking at you, trying to stop his smile from growing.
‘What?’ You complained and he looked back at the sky, letting a laugh escape him.
‘Nothing.’ He grinned. ‘You’re just cute.’
You smiled at him, rolling over so that you landed on his chest, his arm that was previously resting under his head coming down to hold your shoulder. 
‘I think I’d like to be buried in the sky.’ You rambled, not thinking too much as to what you were saying. Jeno hummed to let you know he was listening as you continued. ‘Just to be up there, lighting the night sky... it would be nice to do that for eternity.’
‘You light up my sky.’ Jeno whispered into your hair, pulling you as close as he could as the two of you watched the night pass you by, closer to the stars than the two of you would ever know.
---
You laughed at what Jaemin said as your head came down to rest on Jeno’s shoulder. He noticed this and tilted his to place a soft peck on your forehead. You had been at the dorms pretty much all day, Jeno having called you as soon as he heard that their dance practice had been pushed back until tomorrow.
You had all just finished dinner and were currently sitting around the table idly chatting. Jeno’s arm came around your waist, pulling you even closer as you leaned into him. You sneaked a quick look at your watch, sighing when you realised what time it was.
‘I should probably go.’ You announced dejectedly, attempting to stand but Jeno immediately tightened his grip around you whining slightly into your shoulder.
‘Stay.’ He begged, drawing out the word.
‘I really wish I could, but you have practice early tomorrow and you need rest. Plus I have stuff to finish so I need a good night’s sleep too.’ You replied, still trying to crawl out of your boyfriend’s grip. ‘Jeno let go! You’re holding me like you’ll never see me again.’ You laughed, as the other three boys watched you struggle, making no attempt to help you whatsoever.
‘Fine.’ Jeno grumbled, loosening his grip around your waist.
You finally stood, grabbing your phone and making sure you had your car keys before turning back to Jeno who was sitting at the table pouting at you.
‘Nope, not gonna work.’ You stated, thankful that the lengthy time the two of you had been together had made you almost immune to his puppy dog eyes.
Renjun, Jaemin and Jisung took the moment to say a few quick goodbyes, and Jeno walked with you to the door.
‘Are you sure you can’t stay?’ He whispered, leaning down to give you a deep kiss.
‘You really had to go and make it even harder for me to leave, didn’t you?’ You murmured against his lips, as he nodded in reply.
You summoned every once of self control that you had and pulled back, ignoring the huff that escaped Jeno as you did. You reached up to stroke his cheek slightly.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening? I can stay over then?’ You offered and Jeno immediately smiled back at you.
‘Perfect.’ He muttered and leant back in to give you one final kiss.
He then stepped back and the two of you smiled at each other as you began to walk away.
---
You sat in your car, humming along to the song on the radio as you pulled up to a red light. You thought back to the night you had just had and couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across your face. You hadn’t seen the boys in a while so it had been really nice to spend the day with them, and seeing Jeno was always something that you loved.
You noticed the light turn green, and you moved forward. The song on the radio came to a stop, the next one playing soon after and you instantly recognised it as one of Jeno’s favourite songs. He had played it for you that morning. You leaned down to turn up the volume to listen to it, taking your eyes away from the road for a second too long. You weren’t paying attention to the truck that had just barrelled through the red light opposite you. You didn’t see it skid out of control, spinning towards your car at speed.
You just lifted your eyes back to the road when-
Crash.
---
Jeno got the call two hours later. He listened as the words crackled down the phone he held to his ear.
‘Hello?’ He answered, not recognising the number.
‘Is this Lee Jeno?’ The voice asked him without returning Jeno’s greeting.
‘Yes this is him.’ Jeno replied, standing up from the table he was sat at with Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun, instead choosing to move to the corner of the room for a bit of privacy.
‘Jeno, my name is Dr Park, I’m calling from Seoul Medical Centre. You are currently listed as the emergency contact for a y/n y/l/n.’
‘Yeah that’s my girlfriend, is everything okay?’ Jeno asked quietly, not noticing the confused looks the boys were sending each other behind his back. He ran a hand through his hair to calm himself as he could feel his nerves begin to rise.
‘I’m sorry to tell you that no, everything is not okay, Mr Lee. I regret to inform you that y/n y/l/n has been involved in a car accident just over an hour ago. Our team tried all they could but unfortunately it wasn’t enough. I’m so sorry Mr Lee, but on the way to the hospital, she passed away...’
The rest of the words faded into nothingness, the phone falling from his grip as he stared ahead, his entire body feeling numb. The three other boys in the kitchen stared at him in confusion, Jaemin quickly moved to grab Jeno by the arms, asking what happened, Jisung watched him in confusion while Renjun picked up his phone from the ground and asked the person on the other side what was going on. Renjun’s face paled as he heard the news, quickly thanking the doctor on the line before hanging up and turning towards the rest of the boys.
He swallowed, staring as Jeno’s catatonic figure before speaking, his voice trembling.
‘There- there was a car accident. A drunk driver hit y/n’s car. She... she didn’t make it.’
Jaemin and Jisung’s heads whipped towards Jeno, both of them staring at him with wide eyes, as if waiting for him to confirm the news.
‘Y/n...’ Jaemin began, only to be interrupted by Jeno’s voice.
‘She’s dead.’ He stated, his voice surprisingly firm. ‘She’s dead.’ He repeated, much softer this time. His eyes turned to his best friend. ‘Y/n? She’s dead? My... my y/n’s dead?’ Jaemin nodded slowly, watching as the tears began to fill Jeno’s eyes. His breath started to leave him as the realisation dawned on him and the news began to sink in.
You were dead. You were never coming back.
Jaemin moved forwards, wrapping Jeno up in the most secure hug he had ever felt in his life. It took him a second before he could even respond, wrapping his own arms around his friend. As each second ticked away, he could feel his grip tighten, the thoughts swimming around his head gradually drowning him.
‘I’m not...’
Jaemin shushed him, rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him. Jeno just gave up, pushing his head in Jaemin’s neck as he finally broke down. The cries tearing from him sounded painful, but it was nothing to the pain he was feeling in his chest. Jeno was in so much pain, it felt as though he could feel his heart physically splitting in half.
‘I’m not ready for this.’ He sobbed. And he wasn’t. Jeno had no idea how to live his life without you in it, and it wasn’t anything he wanted to know how to do. But now, that was about to become his new reality.
---
Your funeral was the hardest day of Jeno’s life.
If Jeno thought he had had difficult days before, he was wrong. Today, he had to bury the person he loved more than anything else in this world. He had to leave behind the woman he had hoped to be with forever. He had to admit that she was never coming back.
He had to say goodbye to you.
Getting into the suit he was wearing took three people. Both Jaemin and Renjun had to come in so that they could help him do his tie properly, put in the cufflinks and pull his jacket on. There were about five times while getting dressed Jeno just wanted to give up and go in sweats, but this was for you. When it got difficult, he just reminded himself, this was for you.
He had to greet your family, all of them in tears, reassuring him that you loved him so much as he hugged them. So many other people came up to him, crying and patting him and hugging him to show their sympathy.
He sat through the service feeling completely numb. The loving words from your family and friends sounded muffled, as if he was underwater, and Jeno just focused on trying not to break down.
‘Now we will hear from y/n’s boyfriend, Lee Jeno.’ Those words cut through his haze, grabbing his attention.
Jeno knew this was coming. Soon after your death your family had asked Jeno to give a eulogy, knowing it was what you would have wanted. He had been preparing for it for the past few days, but now, with the letter he had written to you in his hands, he wasn’t sure if he could do it. His hands began to shake as he forced himself to stand.
Do it for y/n.
Jeno whispered this to himself over and over like a prayer as he climbed to the lectern. He placed his speech on the stand in front of him and looked out to the crowd.
He saw your family, all of them drowning in tears, he saw some of your friends he recognised, but his eyes came to rest on the boys. The six other Dream members who had been allowed to come with him to the funeral. All of them gave him nods of encouragement, but Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off Hyuck.
Hyuck was clearly crying, the lights reflecting off the tear marks on his cheeks, yet he still gave a tight lipped smile and a nod, before pointing subtly up to the ceiling and placing his hand on his heart, conveying a message only Jeno could understand.
Do it for y/n.
Jeno bit his lip to stop himself from crying. He had written this for you and now he knew he had to say it. He had to say goodbye. He took a shaky breath and began to speak.
‘When I was asked to write a eulogy for y/n, I thought it would be easy. I would talk about how brilliant of a person that we all knew she was, how much good she brought into the world and, most of all, how much I loved her. But when I sat down to actually write it, to get the words down on paper, I didn’t know where to begin. How do you sum up her entire character, in a few words? The simple answer is, you can’t. All her achievements and all her challenges, no matter how big or small, shaped her into the person that we all know and love today. And we’re only here today, because she can’t be that person for us anymore. I don’t think I can stand in front of you and talk about y/n and how much I love her, simply because I don’t think I’ll be able to do that for more than a few seconds before I break down, so...’ Jeno took another deep breath, blinking back a few of the tears that were threatening to fall. ‘I’m going to talk about tradition. Tradition is defined as the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, or the fact of being passed on in this way. But I think it’s a lot more than that. Traditions aren’t always passed down through generations, sometimes they’re kept just within one lifetime, but that tradition is what makes that lifetime special. Traditions give you a routine that is personal to you, something that you do religiously because it means something to you, because you have a connection to it... because you love it. A tradition that y/n and I had, was to visit the place we met. Even before I was lucky enough to call her mine, we went there once a week just to spend time together. Even when we were together, we would head there at night, to watch the stars, and talk about life. The life we were living, the life we wanted to live, and the life we thought we would be living by now, and every week, we both came back with a different answer. I went with her once a week, and when she asked what life I was living and what I wanted to be living, I realised that they had one thing in common, and that was that they both had y/n in it. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, I knew I would do anything to have her by my side. Because she was my tradition, she was my life. But if I’ve learnt anything about life, it’s that you can’t choose how it’s lived. It chooses that for you, but I would give anything, and I mean anything, just to have told her that I loved her one last time, and that my future didn’t just include her... it was her. I will never forget you, y/n. Quite simply because, you’re not somebody that people forget. I love you, and I will love you for as long as I live. I swear on the stars.’
Jeno lowered his eyes away from the crowd, quickly folding up his paper as he stepped away from the stand. He walked back to his seat, the only sounds being his footsteps and the various cries echoing around from family members and friends. He sank back into his seat, his eyes and heart empty as he watched the service continue.
He didn’t cry. Not for the entire rest of the service. And when it ended, he stood, and made his way towards the exit, not waiting for any of the boys, not waiting for your family, he just left.
Once he got outside, he leant against the wall and looked at the sky. He couldn’t see the stars yet, the sun was still shining down on him, but Jeno still spoke to you, whispering a quiet message for the wind to carry to you, wherever you were.
‘I love you.’
It didn’t take long for everybody else to leave the building, the service being over. The coffin was carried carefully to the burial site, and Jeno stood to the side, watching as it was lowered in with care. Once it disappeared from sight, once you disappeared from sight for the final time, Jeno shut his eyes, finally allowing his tears to escape.
Your parents said a few final words, and everybody started to disperse. The entire part of the service after Jeno’s speech had gone like a flash to him, with him barely aware of what was going on, his body and mind numb from the pain he was recently so used to feeling.
The boys had been sitting further back than Jeno, and were making their way towards him when your family got there first. Your father reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly. He gave Jeno a sad smile, one that he returned as your father’s eyes filled with tears.
‘She would have loved your speech Jeno.’
Jeno didn’t reply, because he didn’t trust himself to speak without completely breaking down. Your mother gently stroked some hair out of his face, cupping his cheeks gently and Jeno failed to hold it in. He couldn’t stop the few tears that slipped down his face, onto the fingers of your mother as she looked at him the same way you used to when he needed comfort.
‘She loved you, so much.’
Jeno nodded. ‘I know, I loved her too.’ He choked out quietly, accepting the hug that your mother pulled him in for and almost losing it at the words she whispered into his ears.
‘She used to say that you were the best thing that ever happened to her. And I will always be thankful that it was you she fell in love with.’
She pulled away, giving him one last smile before the two of them walked away from the daughter they had just buried. 
Jeno turned around, only to be greeted with one of the boys.
‘The rest went to the car, they thought it would be best not to overwhelm you with questions at the minute.’ Hyuck spoke, Jeno nodding gratefully.
Hyuck stepped forward, knowing Jeno well enough to understand what he needed without it being said. He placed his hands on Jeno’s shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug, one which could only be given by a brother. Jeno immediately wrapped his arms around his friend, burying his head into his shoulder and trying desperately to stop the silent tears that cascaded down his cheeks.
‘I’m not ready to let go.’ Jeno whispered, Hyuck replying after a second pause.
‘I know.’
---
Jeno barely left his room in the two weeks it had been since you had been buried. Yet he still visited you everyday. It was the only time he got out of bed. Otherwise he just lay there, only moving when the pillow got too wet from the constant tears that fell from his face. His parents had wanted to get him and bring him back home, but he refused. It was too far away from you, and he’d promised he would always be close to you, to protect you.
All of the dreamies had tried to help him, tried to get him to get up, to eat, to take a shower, but it was all in vain. They had all come in with food and pleas for him to just sit up, but he never replied. He didn’t have the energy to.
Jeno heard his door creak open and didn’t even bother to open his eyes to see who it was. It didn’t matter. He could hear hushed voices, before soft footsteps as whoever it was approached his bed.
His bed slightly dipped as they say on the end of it, gently moving some of his hair out of his face. Jeno flinched at the sudden contact, not expecting them to touch him and forced his eyes open to look at who it was.
He was greeted with Jaemin smiling sadly down at him. Jeno allowed his eyes to flicker to his clock, the red numbers spelling out 16:21, and all he did was sigh and let his eyes lose focus as he stared into space. It wasn’t like time meant anything to him anymore. Jaemin didn’t try to speak, instead placing the tray of food he was carrying down on Jeno’s bedside table, before reaching up and twisting the blinds slightly so that a crack of light filtered into his room.
Jeno stared at the dust particles he could see floating gently in the midday sun. They seemed so light, so free... Jeno had forgotten what that felt like without you. Eventually, Jeno spoke.
‘I’m not hungry.’ Jeno croaked out before shutting his eyes again, not even having the energy to roll over.
Jaemin sighed before taking a seat on his bed. He pulled the duvet down slightly from his friend’s face, trying to give him more room to breathe, but Jeno held onto it tightly.
‘Jeno... I-’ Jaemin began softly.
‘It’s okay, Jaemin, you don’t have to say anything. You also don’t have to know what to say, I don’t think anyone does.’ Jeno interrupted, stopping Jaemin in his tracks. Jaemin shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing.
‘Yes I do, because this is killing you Jeno. And I’m really scared because... I don’t know how to bring you back.’ Jeno could feel the tears start to well up behind his closed eyes and screwed them shut even tighter. ‘I’m not going to remind you that it happened and life moves on, because that’s bullshit. I’m actually going to tell you to ignore the company.’
That caught Jeno’s attention, he opened his eyes and looked at Jaemin with a curious gaze.
‘What about the company?’ He asked, sitting up slightly as Jaemin shifted uncomfortably, making it clear he said something he shouldn’t have. ‘Jaemin, what about the company?’ 
‘They want you to come back to work.’ Jaemin confessed, making Jeno blink in surprise. ‘Since the fans didn’t know about your relationship, they are struggling to come up with excuses as to why you’ve disappeared for almost a month and... they want you to come back to work. I’m sorry Jeno.’
Jeno didn’t reply for a second, instead just bit his lip and nodded.
‘Why are you sorry?’ He asked. ‘It wasn’t your idea. You didn’t tell me to go back to work. You didn’t kill her.’ His lip began to tremble as he continued to speak. ‘You weren’t the one who let her leave that night.’
‘Jeno what are you saying?’ Jaemin asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
‘I shouldn’t have let her go.’ Jeno admitted, finally voicing the guilt that had been weighing him down since the accident. ‘I told her to stay, but when she insisted on going home, I let her. And that’s when it happened. I should have told her to stay with me, I should have fought harder.’
‘Jeno you didn’t know what would happen.’ Jaemin attempted to comfort his friend, his own voice breaking slightly as the tears began to well up in his eyes.
‘That doesn’t matter. I could have saved her if I had just told her to stay. And now, now I’ll never see her again.’ Jeno’s voice cracked as the tears began to fall again, steady tracing their familiar paths down his cheeks. ‘She’s never going to get to live her life, and now I’m expected to just move on and live mine, acting as though she didn’t get her’s ripped away from her. I could have made her happy and I just... I let her down.’
Jeno brought his hands up to his face, rubbing his eyes before he pulled at his hair, the quiet sobs shaking him. Jaemin stared at his friend for a few seconds before finally allowing a few tears of his own to escape.
Then he began to speak.
‘You’re right. She got her life ripped away from her, and she’s never going to live the rest of it. She’s never going to do the things she wanted to, visit the places she’d dreamed of or achieve goals she’d had for years. And maybe she didn’t get the “happy ever after” that the two of you always talked about, but she still got her happy ending. It wasn’t the one you were planning, it wasn’t the one that any of us were planning, and it definitely wasn’t the one that any of us wanted, but she still got one didn’t she?’ Jaemin could feel the emotion begin to take over him, and, despite how hard he could, he couldn’t stop himself from crying as he continued to talk. ‘She was surrounded by so many of us and her friends, and she was always smiling and laughing. She was finally enjoying her studies, no matter how difficult she sometimes found them. She lost herself in her passions, always finding a way to zone out while focusing on them. And most importantly, she was in love, and she was loved. I know how cruel it is that life was ripped away from her, just at the moment she finally began to really appreciate and enjoy it, but just because she was taken too soon doesn’t mean she wasn’t happy. Y/n was truly happy before she died, maybe the happiest she had ever been. Yes, her story has ended. There are no more chapters to read, no more pages to turn except the final one to close the book, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a happy ending for her.’
Any hope Jaemin or Jeno had had of not breaking down in tears was completely ruined by the time Jaemin had finished talking. Both of the boys were practically sobbing, heartbroken at having lost someone they had both deeply cared for.
Jeno sat up fully, reaching his arms out towards his best friend and Jaemin wasted no tie in meeting him. He hugged his friend tighter than he had ever hugged him before, holding onto him as if he would slip through his fingers like you did.
He sat like this for minutes, not having the strength in himself to let go and trust that Jaemin would return to him. Eventually though, he managed to pull away, taking multiple shaky breaths as he calmed himself. Jaemin kept a hand on his friend’s arm, a reminder that he was there.
Jeno opened his eyes and looked towards the food that Jaemin had placed on his bedside table. Instead of looking at the food however, a framed photo caught his eye.
It was a picture of you and Jeno, one that had been taken by one of the boys when the two of them were napping. You were lying half on top of him, one hand placed comfortably on his chest and your head was tucked into his neck. Jeno couldn’t see his left arm as the picture had only been taken of your upper bodies, but he knew it was holding your waist while his right arm was showing in the picture to be tightly wrapped around your shoulders.
Jaemin followed his friend’s gaze towards the photograph, biting his lip to stop the tears again. He watched as Jeno reached out and picked it up, his fingers gently caressing your sleeping face. A soft smile came across Jeno’s face, the first smile that Jaemin had seen on him since your death.
Jaemin reached out and grabbed the tray he had brought in with him. He placed it on Jeno’s lap telling him quietly to eat before he got up and walked towards the door, giving his friend some privacy.
Jeno kept looking at the photograph, staring down at the face of the one who he loved so much. He still loved you, losing you hadn’t diminished his feelings for you at all. And he knew that if you were here you would be heartbroken that he wasn’t taking care of himself.
So Jeno picked up his food, and took a bite.
---
Jeno headed back to work a couple of days after his conversation with Jaemin. He started with dance practice, getting back into the routine of dancing for multiple hours a day with few breaks. He was getting back into it, reminding himself of what it used to be like and also finding it to be a distraction.
He had missed the way he used to lose himself in his dancing, allowing the music to take over his body and just to move to it as he felt best. It wasn’t quite the same as before, it felt as though something was missing, but it was better than nothing.
The boys didn’t have a comeback planned just yet, although they were being assured that something was in the works. Instead, they were performing at an event, therefore needed to be at the top of their game. It would be the first time the fans had seen Jeno in a month.
The company and boys had collectively agreed to not mention where Jeno was, their goal was just to avoid the topic entirely and hope that fans would just be happy that he was back. If they really needed to address it, they had warned Jeno that they would simply say he had a personal matter to attend to that involved him losing someone close to him and would ask for their respect on his privacy about the matter.
The boys were taking a quick break for lunch, Jaemin and Chenle had lost rock paper scissors so they were out buying food, Mark, Renjun and Jisung were filling up water bottles and Hyuck had gone to the bathroom so Jeno was alone in the practice room.
He sat with his back against the wall, the fan directed at his face as he took a sip from his water bottle and tried to cool down. He thought back to the time before everything happened, and how he would always pull out his phone to check something or would be doing other things during their breaks, but now he was content with just looking at the wall on the other side of the practice room.
He heard the squeak of the door and looked to see who was entering, expecting it to be one of the dreamies, so he was surprised when he saw Doyoung enter. 
Doyoung smiled at Jeno as he entered, receiving a nod back from the younger boy. He walked forwards and Jeno stood up to hug his older member. Doyoung held onto him tightly, not saying anything as he didn’t want to upset Jeno.
When he pulled away he saw that Jeno wasn’t crying, nor were his eyes watering. Jeno gave him a small smile that barely reached his eyes and Doyoung patted his head.
It was the first time Jeno had seen Doyoung in a while, the 127 members having been told to give him space rather than smother him with questions and reassurance.
‘How are you feeling?’ Doyoung asked, his voice as gentle as everyone else’s was when they talked to him, as if their voice could break him if it was too loud.
Jeno took a deep breath, before shrugging and giving an honest reply.
‘I haven’t felt anything in a really long time.’
---
Sobs tore from the broken boy’s lips. Jeno had always been so happy, so full of life, people used to smile just by looking at him. Now all he got were sympathetic glances and hushed whispers behind his back. He was losing weight, he was losing sleep, but most of all, he was losing himself. The sunshine personality that seemed to previously define him no longer existed. None of his older brothers realised how much Jeno had relied on you to be happy, and now that you weren’t around anymore, it was becoming clear how much he needed you to function. The darkness residing inside of the boy no longer had your light to drive it away. Every manipulative word, every poisonous ‘what if’ every single other possible way that night could have gone ran through his head. And no one knew how to save him.
Jeno lifted his eyes, staring at your name carved eternally in stone in front of him. He came here every day without fail. Always bringing with him a story, or a love letter or a confession, anything so that he could talk to you the way he used to. And he made sure that he never said the same thing twice. Today, Jeno convinced himself to say the one thing he had been putting off, for the sake of his own sanity. But now, he realised that sanity was overrated, and maybe if he hadn’t put things off, if he hadn’t constantly pushed them to the side, he wouldn’t be in this situation. So he sucked up his pride, and spoke, choking through his words as his voice trembled and broke with emotion.
‘You told me to listen to a certain song, or watch this film, and I always said I’d do it later. Well, it’s later now, and I’m listening and I’m watching, but you’re not here for me to tell you how I felt about them. Why is it that I could only be bothered to listen to your recommendations after you’re gone? Why couldn’t I care enough before you died?’
He leaned down, resting his forehead on the cool stone that held the last memory of his soulmate, choking out one final whisper. 
‘You said you’d grow old with me...’
---
‘Did you know it’s possible to die from a broken heart? Extreme emotional trauma can cause tears in the heart that lead to muscle failure which can eventually lead to death. It’s called broken heart syndrome.’ Jeno spoke quietly, his raspy voice cutting straight through to Renjun’s soul. ‘They say it feels similar to a heart attack, that’s why it’s dangerously misdiagnosed.’ He let out a shaky breath, turning his eyes towards the sky. He focused on the stars, the bright dots that got gradually more blurry due to the tears gathering in his eyes. ‘I always heard the phrase “my heart aches” but I had no idea that it was actually possible to really feel pain in your heart.’
He turned his eyes away from the endless night sky and looked at his friend, who was also sitting on the roof and watching him talk with tears of his own in his eyes. Renjun bit his lip as Jeno continued to talk.
‘But now... now I know. I know just how painful it can be.’ Jeno’s voice broke as Renjun choked back a sob of his own, hugging his knees into his chest and burying his head into his arms.
‘It’s not fair.’ Renjun’s muffled voice spoke out as he tried to pull himself closer to provide some sort of comfort. ‘She didn’t deserve this.’
Jeno shook his head, the tears that were falling felt all too familiar.
‘No she didn’t... she was a star.’ He readjusted his gaze so that he was studying the sky again. ‘My star.’ He whispered. ‘She loved to stargaze. Even though the endless concept of space scared her slightly, she loved seeing something bright shine fearlessly through the darkness. She said they were brave... to be themselves when everything around them is something different and that’s why stars shine the way they do. I always silently hoped that she knew that that was what she was to me. A star in the darkness, lighting the way when I couldn’t see anything. One like the north star, always there, never burning out and guiding people whenever they need it. I never told her... Why didn’t I tell her? Renjun, why didn’t I tell her?’ His voice was no more than a whisper now, one almost lost amongst the night.
‘I don’t know Jeno.’ Renjun admitted back, his voice just as quiet.
‘Well it doesn’t matter now does it? All that matters is, I could’ve told her how much she meant, how important she was, and I didn’t. And now... now I never can.’
Renjun pulled his legs away from his chest, laying them flat on the concrete beneath him and reached his arms out for Jeno. The taller male wasted no time in curling up into his friend, pulling himself into a ball as he let himself cry.
Renjun simply stroked his hair, feeling helpless as to how he could help. Right now the only person Jeno needed was you, and you were never coming back. What scared Renjun the most was that he knew your death was permanent, but there was no telling as to how permanently it had broken Jeno.
‘She’s watching over you, Jeno.’ Renjun reassured his friend, trying as best he could to calm the crying boy down. ‘She’s one of those stars up there, looking down on you now and telling you that you can do it. She may not be next to you anymore, but she’s always going to be here. She may have died, but her memory won’t, because you won’t let it.’ Jeno’s breaths gradually got steadier as he listened to Renjun’s comforting words. ‘Do you know which star I think she is?’ Renjun asked and Jeno nodded slowly as he turned his eyes to the sky. ‘That one... because it’s the brightest.’
Jeno followed Renjun’s finger to spot the star he was pointing to, and he wasn’t wrong, it was without a doubt, the brightest one in the sky. Jeno smiled sadly, nodding in agreement.
‘That’s my girl...’ Jeno whispered to himself, unable to take his eyes off the star Renjun had dedicated to you. Right then and there Jeno suddenly realised that he knew something for certain. You would always be with him, no matter where he went. And that as long as he had you, he would be okay.
---
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting, it just means letting go. You were never going to grow old, never going to go stargazing with him again, never going to have discussions about the meaning of life at 2am, never going to play with your kids on the playground, never going to kiss his cheek and stroke his hair while telling him to breathe. And it isn’t supposed to be okay, but in the end, it has to be. Life doesn’t wait for you to come to terms with it, it moves on, even when you aren’t ready for it or it isn’t fair.
Jeno is trying. He’s trying to think less about everything you missed out on, and more about everything that he got to experience with you. He likes to think about how you made a point of going to the same frozen yogurt place on your way to visit him at work, just so that you could try every flavour there, even though you already had your favourite. Or about the way you tried to learn a new constellation for each time the two of you went stargazing just so that you could teach it to him. And he fondly remembers your dedication to laughing at every single one of jokes, even the ones he knew weren’t funny. And he can never help but smile when he remembers the feeling of coming back into your apartment after a long day, and immediately being pulled into dance to whatever music you were playing while you made dinner, and how it was as if all the stress of the day melted off him.
Jeno now knows that you were right. Nothing ever really does end. Not a story, not a relationship, not a life. Even though your story may have come to it’s finish, it still lives on. Your heart may have stopped, but you are still living in the lives of those who you touched. Jeno sees you in everybody. He sees you in Jisung’s hopeful nature, the way he always tries to see the good in situations that otherwise seem dire. He sees you in Donghyuck’s ability to lift his spirits, even when he hasn’t smiled in days. He sees you in Chenle’s honesty, how he can always rely on Chenle to give him the truth when he asks for it. He sees you in Renjun’s inquisitive nature, the way he always wants to know more about the world and the universe, or in the way he always points out the brightest star in the sky. Just like you used to. He sees you in Mark’s reliability, the way that, no matter how stressed out he was feeling or how busy he was, when Jeno needed him, Mark was there. And Jeno sees you in Jaemin. He knows that you connected with Jaemin more than Jaemin had ever admitted, and Jeno also knows that losing you hurt a lot more than his friend had let on. He sees you in Jaemin’s attempts to keep himself together, because he knew that Jeno needed him. He sees you in Jaemin’s habit of bringing him a meal on the nights he knew that he hadn’t eaten. He sees you in Jaemin’s determination and drive to continue with what he was passionate about no matter the challenges it proposed. And he sees you in his smile. In the pure, unedited happiness that always radiated off his best friend when he smiled.
Jeno can’t help but see you everywhere he goes. He sees you in the snow gently falling to the ground, remembering how you would always insist on going outside when it started snowing, no matter what time of day it was. He sees you in the rain splashing on the pavement outside the dorm, remembering how you loved to curl up on his chest with a book, always liking the window slightly open because the smell and sound of rain comforted you. But most of all, more than anything, he sees you in the sun. The golden beams that warm his cold being, gently caressing his limbs remind him of how you would gently rub your hands over his aching muscles. The way that everything revolves around the sun, the way that without it, the world would be dark and empty, reminds him of the importance you had. How much you meant to him.
Jeno will never forget you. He told you this when you were alive, he’s said it to the boys, he repeated it at your funeral and he’s told it to your grave multiple times since then. But he doesn’t need to say it anymore, because you’ll never leave him. And that’s not because you touched everyone around you, but because you touched him. You had such a massive impact on his life that Jeno knows he will never be the same. He wouldn’t be able to forget you even if he tried.
Jeno’s learnt a lot over the past few months. He’s learnt that death didn’t happen to you. It happened to everyone around you. It happened to everyone who you left behind, everyone left standing at your funeral wondering how they’re going to live the rest of their lives without you in it. He’s learnt that, sometimes life throws you curveballs, sometimes it makes you live a reality you would do anything to avoid, but he’s also learnt that it doesn’t give you a choice. Most importantly, however, he’s learnt that he doesn’t owe it to you, to himself, to the sun, or even the stars to grieve forever.
Because letting go of you is the hardest thing that Jeno has ever had to do.
And it took him a long time, but eventually, finally, Jeno learned, sometimes letting go, hurts less than holding on.
‘Sleep well, my love. You’ve earned it.’
321 notes · View notes
nastybuckybarnes · 4 years ago
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Monsters  -  Two
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Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.
Warnings: Angst, Violence, Smut (DUBCON), Somnophilia, Injuries, Dark Themes, Language,
Word Count: 3.2K
A/n: Here you go! Pissed this out in like, an hour because I’m starting to really really like this series already lol. Hope you enjoy!
THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!
Part One!
~*~
You pace around the kitchen of the small house, fingers stuck in your hair, pulling it at the roots.
You've been here for four hours. Alone. The Captain gave you few words before pushing you into the house and closing the door behind himself, leaving you alone with nothing but your thoughts and the worst-case-scenarios that your mind has been conjuring since leaving Fury's office.
There's no way for you to leave the house. That much you gathered quickly. After bruising your fingers trying to pry the door open, and wracking your brain trying to figure out a loophole for the DNA keypad, you gave up. The windows are all made of the thickest glass you've ever encountered, and nothing you’ve thrown at them made them crack in the slightest.
So you brought yourself to the kitchen, hoping to find a weapon to use to defend yourself, only to be disappointed. All the cabinets and drawers are locked. Why everything is locked and reinforced so much, you have no clue. And it only makes you more nervous.
Now you pace, back and forth and back and forth in the kitchen, trying desperately to figure out what they have planned for you and why they're doing this. They're supposed to be heroes, for god's sake. 
Protectors. And yet they lock you in a strange place, with no contact with the outside world and no chance of escape. You find yourself wondering if they're really any better than the people they fight.
The front door beeps twice then opens, freezing you mid-step.
You stare at one of the two hallways leading to the kitchen, each hallway meeting in the front foyer and leading to the front door. The fact that there are two ways to access the kitchen puts you at ease and on edge at the same time. You won't know where the intruder is coming from, but you'll have an escape if they mean to harm you.
You strain your ears, listening intently for whoever is in the house. It's futile, however, because anyone entering the house would be a highly trained spy and would know how to stay quiet and be undetected.
"Jesus Christ, they really did it," A male voice whispers from behind you. You spin around, facing the hallway behind you. You stare up at him and instantly recognize him as the Winter Soldier. 
He's wearing a casual outfit, black fitted jeans and a black hoodie, hands shoved into his pockets. His hair is long and unkempt around his head, and his eyes are a striking blue that seems to stare straight through your body and into your soul.
He remembers seeing a picture of you, one picture among thousands of others of women that fury deemed 'replaceable'. His lack of regard for human life made the metal armed soldier uneasy, and seeing you here in front of him makes him feel sick to his stomach.
"A-are you gonna hurt me?" The words fly from your lips before you can stop them, and you flinch away from him, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate a hostile move on his part.
He sighs, the sound bordering on a scoff, and shakes his head, metal fingers coming up and raking through his hair.
"No. I'm not gonna hurt you. Not on purpose." You peak your eyes open at that, curious about his intentions.
"C-Captain Rogers and Commander Fury said that I'm here to 'personally help you' and to 'take care of you'... what do they mean by that?" He looks at your frightened eyes then down to the ground.
"I uh... it..." He shakes his head and groans.
"I've been... falling back into old habits. At night... I get triggered into the soldier. And I've been trying to... hurt my female companions lately. The Captain thinks that having a woman to help satisfy my... primal desires will make me less of a hazard on the field." The words roll over in your mind and you look up at him.
"So I've been taken as some sort of sex slave?!" He winces at the way you spit the ugly words, not wanting to think about it like that.
"Well... no... I don't know! I was opposed to it, but they insisted. So... I picked you out of everyone. You've got a pretty face... and your body..." He trails off, eyes roaming up and down your figure then returning to your eyes. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods. "Out of everyone, I'm glad it was you. You're... perfect." You ignore his compliments and shake your head.
"Do you realize that I've been taken against my will here?! I've been brought here to service you in a way that I don't want to. And now I'm going to be forced to have sex with you? None of this is consensual! None of this is right!" You shake your head angrily, trying to come up with a solution.
"You said you're against it, so tell them to let me go! I didn't agree to any of this!"
"Did you or did you not willingly come meet with me?" You jump, spinning around quickly as Fury walks into the room, arms crossed over his chest. Your hands tremble, anger and fear chasing each other through your veins.
"You willingly came to the tower to meet me. You accepted the job by coming in for the meeting. You cannot by law say that that was against any of your human rights. You accepted a job then came in to learn about the requirements. That is your own fault." You shake your head, hands clenching into fists.
"I changed my mind during the meeting. I told you I didn't want to do it. I signed no contract, I made no legally binding agreement." The man in front of you grins.
"There's fine print in everything I send. The email specifically said 'by going to this meeting I am accepting the position and all it entails'. It's not my fault you didn't read it. Now I advise you to stop complaining. Who knows, maybe you'll enjoy this position, and any others he decides to put you in."
You grimace and glance over your shoulder at the soldier. His cheeks are pink and he's staring at the ground.
"Now, I came to drop off your belongings. They're being put into the bedroom as we speak. I took the liberty of throwing in a few things I thought the two of you may need. Now, Barnes, any questions?" 
You turn around and look at the brunet, eyes pleading with him to tell the other man to call this whole thing off. He stares into your eyes for a long silent moment then looks over your shoulder.
"I think this arrangement will help my performance on the field and in the office. I want to get started right away." Your heart sinks and you shake your head.
"Alright. By all means," Fury gestures towards you and you turn away from the brunet, tears prickling your eyes.
You go to push past the dark-skinned man when he grabs you by the wrist, staring at you with hard eyes.
"I can be a very patient man, but even my patience has limits. You agreed to this position, you chose your fate. Don't blame anyone else for your lack of attention to detail." You tear your arm from him and level him with a hard glare.
"Barnes, bring her upstairs. If she can't be talked into submission, maybe other methods will work better." An arm is wound around your waist and you start thrashing immediately.
"No! Let me go! Stop!" He ignores you, scooping you up in his arms with ease and taking you up the stairs.
"Let go of me! Help! Please! Someone Help!" He pushes into a huge bedroom and tosses you onto the bed, arms crossing over his chest as he stares at you.
"No one can hear you," Fury says, coming into the room shortly after. Tears streak down your face and you glare at both of them.
"Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be out ruining another innocent person's life?" He chuckles and looks over at the soldier.
"You've got a fiery one. Have fun with her." He turns and leaves the room, the beep of the lock letting you know that he's left the house.
You and James have a staredown as you sit on the bed and he stands by the wall, not moving, simply staring at you.
You finally give in, looking down at your hands, fingers trembling. "Please don't do it," you whisper, desperation dripping from your words. He sighs heavily and you feel the few shards of hope you have left glue themselves back together.
"Please. I just... please don't hurt me." When you look up he's directly in front of you, making you gasp.
"Why are you so against it?" He asks suddenly.
"I just..." You don't want to confess your fear to the man in front of you. You don't want him to know that he haunts your nightmares already.
"If you can't give me a good reason then why shouldn't I?" His voice is harder than before, stern, with an aggravated edge to it.
You take a deep breath and clench your hands into fists.
"Because you scare me," you finally whisper. "I've heard so many stories... seen so many things... and you scare me. I don't want to believe them but... this makes me wonder if they're all right about you. If you're truly the monster they say you are." The air is still and heavy with the weight of your words, and you find yourself regretting them instantly.
A metal hand is suddenly around your throat, pushing you and forcing you back on the mattress until your back hits the headboard.
You grab his wrist fruitlessly, struggling to drag in a breath as you look up at him. His eyes are dark with anger, and his chest is heaving.
"A monster? You think I'm a monster?!" He chuckles lowly without humour, shaking his head as he kneels on the bed. "I'll show you a fucking monster." He lets go of your throat and you gasp, coughing as the pressure gets released. You're definitely going to have finger-shaped bruises in the morning.
He grabs your knees and tears them apart, ignoring the scream of pain that leaves your lips as you feel a muscle in your thigh get pulled.
"Do you know how easy this is for me?" He demands, grabbing the fabric of your shirt and tearing it down the middle.
"Overpowering you is nothing to me. I could break you so fucking easily if I really wanted to. If I wanted to be a monster. I could make you cry and scream and wish for death." You sob loudly, fighting to free yourself as he presses his half-hard length against your centre through the layers of clothing separating the two of you.
"If I wanted to fuck you, I would. If I wanted to show you how much of a fucking monster I can be, I would. Because I can. And there's nothing you can do about it. You'll never be strong enough to fight back, strong enough to run. You belong to me now. Realize it. Embrace it. And don't fucking get on my bad side or you'll regret it."
He pushes off of you, kneeling between your legs and glaring down at you where you lay. You're shaking and sobbing, but he gives no indication that he cares.
"You haven't seen a monster yet, but test me again and I'll show you what a monster really looks like." You hiccup another sob, eyes staying trained on him. He glares at you for a moment longer before spitting at you. You flinch, humiliation pumping through your body as he chuckles.
"You're pathetic," he whispers, pushing himself off of the bed and leaving the room without another word.
You stay trembling and crying on the bed for what feels like hours after that, not moving for fear of aggravating your captor and your injured leg.
Meanwhile, Bucky sits in the living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand and regret swimming in his mind. He didn't mean to hurt you so bad, but you calling him a monster when you have no idea what he's been through? He won't tolerate that. He needed to put you in your place. To show you who you belong to. If you cooperate, you can enjoy yourself but if you misbehave, you'll be punished.
~*~
You're not sure when you fall asleep, but you're slowly roused from your slumber by a warm tongue sweeping itself over your clit.
A soft moan leaves your lips and your roll your hips gently, sleep clouding your thoughts.
The mouth disappears only to be replaced by something hot and big. Your eyelids flutter before slowly opening, and you feel confusion fill you as a big body hovers over you.
"Wh-what...?" You trail off, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as the man pushes his cock inside of you, stretching you out in the most perfectly painful way.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" He asks, voice thick and husky, the slightest twinge of a Russian accent decorating his words. Your hands find his shoulders and you blink a few times, the events of the day rushing into your brain.
"Wait... s-stop..." He doesn't. Instead, he cradles your head in his hands and presses gentle kisses to your face.
"You're okay. It feels nice. You like it. It feels good when you listen." His voice is so deep and perfect... you can't help but nod.
"This is what you're here for," he grunts, pumping into you harder. He grabs your hips and pulls out of you, only to flip you onto your stomach.
"This is why they brought you here. You're here for me to fuck. For me to have." He pushes back in and you gasp as he hits deeper than before.
"Yeah... feels so good... you were made for me, weren't you?" You find yourself nodding to his words again. He fucks into you hard and fast, his mind focused on his own release.
"Your cunt is so nice and tight and wet. So perfect for me. Waiting for me to fuck it, destroy it." You mewl in response, arching your back as he pounds into you, the slap of his hips against your ass making you even wetter for him.
You block out the shame of it all, ignore the fact that a few hours ago, this man was hurting and humiliating you.
His thrusts stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace again, this time reaching his metal fingers around to toy with your clit. "Gonna make you cum on my cock. You might not admit it, but you fuckin' love getting used like a dirty little whore. You like having your pussy fucked full of my fat cock. You fucking love it." 
Your body starts convulsing, pussy clenching hard around him as he pushes you over the edge into an orgasm. Your eyes roll back, head spinning at the intensity of it.
"Fuckin' feel that... fuck... Fuck!" He spills inside of you, warm white filling you up then spilling out over your swollen cunt.
He pulls out and collapses on the bed beside you, panting hard. Your body aches, pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing while his seed spills out of you, staining the sheets.
You lower your hips and stretch out on your stomach, catching your breath and riding the aftershocks of your climax.
He rubs your back gently and you're surprised by the intimate and kind gesture.
"You only get punished when you're bad," he whispers. You don't acknowledge him and he sighs.
"I'll probably come to you again tonight, and I'll probably be rougher. I can't control myself when he takes over. If you fight back then it'll only be worse for you. Just lie back and take it, okay?" You still say nothing, yelping when his hand comes down hard on your ass. "Okay," you finally whisper, skin burning where he hit you.
"Good. Now, I'm gonna go make dinner. I expect you down in half an hour." He climbs off the bed without another word and leaves the room.
You stay there, silent tears sliding down your face at the fact that this man just fucked you, but worse, you liked it.
~*~
Dinner is silent, you limping to the table and wincing every time you shift your weight. Your ass burns, your pussy aches, and you definitely tore something in your thigh.
But Bucky seems to be in good spirits.
You only manage to force down a few bites before you push your plate away, stomach flipping uncomfortably.
“Eat,” he says, staring at your full plate then looking up to your eyes.
“I’m not hungry,” you whisper, voice rough and scratchy from the way he crushed your throat earlier. He sighs heavily and tosses his fork onto the table, leaning forward to look at you.
“My goal wasn’t to hurt you. Just to show you that I’m only a monster if you want me to be. I can be nice to you. I made you cum twice while you slept.” 
That explains the deep throb in your pussy.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I think they’re right. I need you. More importantly, the soldier needs you. I think I'll be able to control him better. I know you’re not the biggest fan of this, but you’ve gotta admit that you enjoyed it.” You say nothing, but the way you shift in your seat makes him grin.
“This can be good for both of us. Just relax and accept it. I won’t hurt you again, not on purpose. And not unless you give me a reason to.” You simply nod, not wanting to be having any type of conversation with this man.
“Hate it all you want, but you can’t deny your body’s reaction to me. Just give in.” You glare at your plate, the word ‘monster’ bouncing around in your mind as he resumes eating as if he isn't holding you hostage here.
~*~
You can’t sleep. Your body aches too much and you’re far too terrified of him visiting you in the form of the Soldier.
It’s a little past two in the morning, and you’re fighting your heavy lids when the door to what he deemed as ‘your’ bedroom opens.
His eyes are dark and distant, and you know that this isn’t the same man as before.
He’s naked, cock hanging freely between his legs. An impressive nine inches of thick, hard flesh, waiting to abuse your cunt yet again.
He climbs onto the bed and pulls the blankets away from your body. You try to relax, you really do, but with the rough way he strips you of your clothes, it’s hard not to panic.
His hands come beside your head as he situates himself between your thighs, his huge frame making you feel even smaller and even more intimidated. He nudges his hard cock at your entrance and you wince as he pushes in with little preparation.
It stings. The stretch and pull off his cock dragging against your walls.
He gives you no time to get adjusted before he starts a fast and borderline brutal pace, not giving a single fuck about the way he’s abusing your pussy. You whimper, hands coming up and instinctively pushing against his shoulders to try and get him to slow down.
He mutters something in Russian, then grabs your hands and pins them above your head, squeezing your wrists together tightly in his metal hand. You yelp in pain, trying to twist into a more comfortable position. He doesn’t let up and you accept the pain, allowing it to distract you from the vicious way he’s fucking you. His other hand grabs your legs and pulls them up over his shoulders, leaning down so his body is hovering just above yours.
His hips slam into you, cock hitting your cervix painfully with each thrust.
“Ow! S-slow down, please! I-it hurts!” You beg him to have mercy, and he quickly grows tired of hearing your voice. The hand supporting his weight comes up and presses hard on your throat. With no free hands, he presses harder against your wrists to keep himself upright, the pressure on your neck growing with each savage thrust of his hips.
The edges of your vision start to get spotty and black, your mouth parted in a desperate attempt to drag in a breath of air. Your body starts going numb, and soon you can’t even feel him inside of you. Your ears start to ring and after a painfully long moment, the world goes black.
The soldier continues fucking your pliant body, even after you’ve passed out. He fucks you hard and fast until he finally finishes.
He cums hard, filling you up with his seed and leaving his mark on your abused walls. He pulls out of you with a soft grunt, then leaves you alone and unconscious in the middle of the bed, cum painting your swollen pussy white, and bruises already forming on your wrists and neck.
~
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shihalyfie · 3 years ago
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I’m a diehard 02 fan who does not want a reboot and never wanted a reboot, and here’s why
This is one of my few editorial-esque pieces, but this is something some friends and I have been discussing for a while, and given what’s going on right now, I feel like this needs to be said at some point.
Sometimes I feel like there’s a really massive gap between what 02 fans want (especially diehard ones) and what people think 02 fans want. I'm not saying that media should only be catering to hardcore fans, and if more casual fans of 02 or people who simply just happen to have a stake in the full franchise have their own opinions on what they wanted to see out of 02-related media, that’s perfectly fine, and they have a right to have those expectations. What I’m mainly writing this about is sentiments that talk about how Toei is apparently doing 02 a disservice or sweeping it under the bus by not rebooting it (which basically comes with an implication that giving it respect would mandate it being rebooted just because Adventure was), or talking about how doing a reboot would please 02 fans just by giving their favorite characters more rep. (Although, I suppose the simultaneous reveal of an actual 02-related movie kind of killed any grounds for claiming that the lack of a 02 reboot meant sidelining 02. You can’t really claim that they’re sidelining 02 when they’re making a whole movie, after all...)
Of course, I don’t claim to speak for every single 02 fan out there (so if you’re a 02 fan who doesn’t agree with anything I’m about to say, I apologize and hope I don’t sound presumptuous), and I highly doubt I represent the mainstream, but I felt I should input my perspective as a 02 fan who’s friends with a handful of other 02 fans, who have discussed this extensively and all have the same feelings on the topic, and why it’s kind of frustrating to keep hearing this kind of thing from people who assume that all fans of something should want to see more things that resemble them by default without any more nuance to it.
It won’t actually improve much that’s worth it
I’m going to be blunt about it: I think more people who supposedly want this 02 reboot are people who hate or dislike 02 than people who actually are fans of the series, because they’re doing this under the sentiment that “this was a bad series, so a redo would improve it.” You can especially tell because a lot of people acting like a reboot is in 02′s best interest are the same people being scathingly critical of the current Adventure: reboot right now, so you can see that this kind of mentality comes from people who clearly understand that a reboot won’t necessarily be something everyone likes all that much, and thus believe 02 is so unsalvageably bad that you couldn’t possibly make it worse. So you can probably understand why I’m not exactly patient with this kind of take.
If we are to be charitable, though -- if this sentiment comes out of a genuine feeling that 02 had missed potential that could be addressed by the reboot -- I want to ask everyone if they really believe that this theoretical reboot would be a net improvement, especially one that’s worth all the time and effort involved, and even more especially given the writing style that the current Adventure: reboot is employing. You don’t have to claim it’s a perfect series or anything to understand the sentiment that it held up enough by itself to not necessitate a whole anime series being made to do another take on it.
Something I would like to remind people who love to claim that 02 is such a despised series is that it made around 89% of Adventure’s revenue at the time it aired, and despite those who despise 02 being very vocal on the Internet, the actual mainstream tends to be very positive about it, especially in terms of anything to do with Ken (whom most reasonable people will agree had a character arc that deserves acclaim). So in other words, if you want to do a reboot, most likely you would want to do it without offending the base that likes the series already, right? (Especially since, you know, recent events have proven that upsetting the real-life 02 fanbase is actually a pretty inadvisable idea...)
Here’s the thing: Once you filter out most of the “scapegoat” reasons people tend to criticize 02, the one that’s generally the most agreed upon is how disorganized the plot gets in the second half. So this so-called ideal situation reboot would supposedly iron out all of the messy plot writing and make use of the “wasted potential” the series had -- but 02 was way more than just a narrative storyline with characters walking around in it, and when it comes to the reasons people were so drawn to it, they’re tied to the series themes about regrets and making up for the past, and about the unreasonable pressures that society places on children. That, and also the most important one, the central theme of human relationships, and the charismatic and well-developed (yes, really) characters. The so-called “messier” second half of 02 was full of payoff for a lot of what was set up in the first half in regards to its themes, and a lot of its subplots or character flairs are packed in really small nuances that are easy to miss on the first watch.
What this means is that 02 is a series that works off of a lot of delicate balances. Adventure could be “rebooted” because everything was very clear-cut and straightforward, which meant that you could change almost everything about the plot and still relatively adhere to the primary points of “kids gain self-awareness through a journey in another world”. (Like, I really hate to break it to those who put Adventure on a pedestal, but this is mainly possible because Adventure doesn’t really have much of a plot besides “defeat enemy” followed by “defeat bigger enemy”...) In the case of 02, everything regarding the story is, for better or for worse, much more deeply tied to the plot, the narrative behind the Kaiser and the traces of psychological horror laced into everything, and the second-half evolution mechanic, Jogress, has a lot to do with the developments related to the human relationships narrative. Moreover, a lot of the reasons that people call it “bad” for are deeply tied to the exact same reasons a lot of people like it -- that its takes on certain topics were heavily nuanced and unconventional, meaning it could cover ground that most media wouldn’t go anywhere near -- and so the series loses too much of its identity if those aspects are removed, even if it ostensibly seems like “streamlining” it.
So if you mess with one thing, a lot of it falls apart -- and in fact, considering the writing style that the Adventure: reboot is using right now, it’s hard to imagine that applying it to 02 would make it any better. Actually, it seems like it wouldn’t address any of the grievances anyone has with it to any substantial degree, and it’d be more likely to axe all of the stuff that were integral to 02′s identity, like the social commentary, or the heavy focus on human relationships, or the unusual sort of character nuance it employed, and...basically, we go back to the same question: is this actually worth it?
02 itself was about not having this kind of sentiment
The main reason most 02 fans get upset about the 02 characters not being included in Adventure canon-related things that should rightfully include them is that, quite simply, they’re part of the canon! In fact, most 02 fans like Adventure too, so they like the way 02 built on Adventure’s worldbuilding, and moreover they’re attached to the web of relationships between the Adventure and 02 groups -- 02′s additions to Adventure’s worldbuilding and the nature of what it established around the neighborhoods of Odaiba and Tamachi were not only added on but also deeply entangled with what was established before, so you can’t just act like none of it exists!
So this also means that once we’re talking about a completely different universe, absolutely none of this applies and there’s no expectations to adhere to any of this. The 02 quartet doesn’t exist in this universe? Cool.
Funny thing about 02: one of the biggest themes the story revolved around was “not getting caught up in the past, and moving forward with what you have instead,” so it’s probably pretty understandable that a lot of people who like 02 would be the type who wouldn’t be fond of rehashing stuff too much (and even more so it involves 02 itself), especially since being okay with 02 as a sequel likely means being okay with change in general. To make something really new out of it, you might as well...actually make something new out of it, or cover some truly new territory, instead of bothering with this whole reboot business, you know?
One thing you might notice about a lot of 02 fans is that they’re not actually all that fond of the idea of canon putting the group through more massive suffering or emotional ordeals after 02 compared to most. I mean, I think it’s pretty normal to enjoy your favorite characters going through emotional trouble, but the aversion to it often tends to be much stronger than usual, regardless of what country’s fanbase we’re talking, and even the official staff for Kizuna seems to have somewhat recognized that the 02 group is most in its element when in the context of fun and silliness. All things considered, this probably isn’t particularly surprising when you take into account the fact that “just being able to hang out with each other as casual friends at all” was considered such a blessing, and such a difficult goal to reach, that there’s a natural aversion to seeing them go through more emotional suffering again. The new trailer for the upcoming movie seems to have Daisuke in a relatively good mood (and even then, “please don’t make it too emotionally vicious for them” is a pretty common plea).
So if you want to talk about rehashing all of their old problems, seeing it all over again is just not very fun. It’s like holding Ken’s sins over his head again, even if it’s in a different universe; it just doesn’t feel right when the series itself endorsed the best possible outcome for these kids to be “to live happily and at peace with themselves, no matter what happened beforehand”. They worked so hard to get out of it, so to decide we have to do this entire rodeo again for the sake of doing it again, instead of trying something new is...well, it’s not that appealing of an idea, I have to say.
The real-life impact would be intolerable
It’s no secret that the 02 hatedom is a bit uncomfortably vocal about it, but what tends to be really frustrating about it is how many of them love to dunk on the series based on misremembering it. It’s fair that, if you don’t like a series, you probably wouldn’t want to watch it again, but as someone who’s spent a lot of years unpacking all the little details in the series and noticing that it’s much deeper than it initially seems on the surface, it’s honestly annoying to see “criticism” of the series that’s actually just dunking on it based on details that are genuinely factually incorrect (it’d be one thing if it were a question of subjectivity, but no, so many of the insults 02 often gets are based on things that legitimately did not happen in the series).
In the end, I admit that 02′s penchant for ridiculous subtlety probably worked against it a bit too much, and I’ve already covered its impact on how the series gets misread a lot. Thing is, this kind of subtlety was a thing in Adventure too, and it all leads to the unfortunate effect that a lot of people tend to forget what actually happened in Adventure if they haven’t seen it for more than a few years. With the current reboot right now, you’ll see people saying that certain characters are the same as they were in the original series, even though in most respects they’re actually the opposite -- because a lot of said people only remember them by the surface characteristics that seem to be similar.
So when you look at 02, and consider the fact that even official media -- including the official American English dub and V-Tamer -- has been a bit too prone to not handling Daisuke’s character tastefully and reducing him to traits that make him easy to dislike, you might realize that handling these characters improperly runs an extremely high risk of actually turning them into the flat, unlikeable characters that people tend to accuse them of being -- imagine Daisuke where his entire character is about fixating over Hikari and being impulsive, or Miyako being nothing but self-centered and selfish, or Iori being genuinely stoic and missing the nuances of constantly holding his emotions back. And making it worse is that this would basically solidify these negative perceptions of the characters even further -- because people, especially those inclined to hate the series, would take it as further evidence that the characters have always been like this, reflect it back on the original, and everything would really just become a miserable experience. (Those who are particularly inclined to be malicious against 02 would probably even claim a reboot to be “better than the original” no matter whatever it is, because of the belief that 02 is so incredibly terrible that literally anything would be better than it.)
It’s not my business to dictate other people’s opinions, but it’s already been a frustrating twenty years of dealing with this kind of thing, so of course I’m not going to be enthusiastic about the idea of putting up with more of it...
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footballcloud · 4 years ago
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Familiar - Anyone You’d Like
Unlucky today baby, when do you think you'll be home? xxx
delivered - 17:58
read - 18:02
It was a familiar feeling for you. Being ignored. It'd begun to become the norm meaning that loneliness had also begun to seep in. His team had suffered a heavy defeat, something else that was also becoming familiar for him and that meant you spent a large proportion of your time with him feeling like you were treading on eggshells. Although, you spent very little time together anymore, so at least he spared you that feeling. It was past 2 o'clock in the morning when he arrived home, from the 3 o'clock kick off but he seemed to be arriving back later and later each week which meant you were at home by yourself for longer and longer each week with only your phone for company. God knows what he was doing between leaving the ground and getting home. Your friends back home didn't cheer you up on FaceTime the same way a night out did but those had been few and far between recently.
As soon as he arrived home, he dropped his rucksack with a heavy thud by the door and closed it behind him. Brushing past you, he drank quickly from a glass of water that you'd left out for him in the hope it'd settle him down. You watched him as he drank it with his back turned to you, contemplating whether you should break the silence to try and console him but risk getting your head bitten off if he hadn't calmed down yet, or leave him to simmer for a while and speak to him in the morning. It wasn't a rarity for the two of you to go for days without speaking to each other despite living under the same roof and sharing a bed. You were working or he was training, away with the team or on his Xbox.
"How are you feeling?"   You asked tentatively, being able to feel his anger radiating off him even with is back still turned to you. "Fucking fantastic thanks", he made a snide, sarcastic remark and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve before refilling up his cup, "and don't tell me that bollocks about 'it's always better to talk things out', because not. You're the last person I want to speak to". He added abruptly, imitating your voice for a second or two before slamming his glass down on the kitchen worktop. His word stabbed through you like a knife in your back, but it was the last sentence that provided the fatal blow. It wasn't like you to lose it with him, you were definitely the calmer one out of the two, but even you were on the verge of losing it.
"If you don't want to talk to me now, when were you planning on speaking to me?" You raised your voice slightly as he turned round to face you and gave a pathetic shrug as if to say 'I don't know'. "Because if you're not planning on talking to me, then there's no point in me being here. You dragged me half way across the country for what? For you to ignore me, stay out until stupid hours of the morning and throw a tantrum like a child when I ask where you've been?" You snort scornfully, feeling your temper rising in your stomach but you didn't feel the need to suppress it given that's all you did around him.
"Jesus fucking Christ, lay off it will you? If it's so much of a chore to be here with me then go back home!" He folded his arms over his chest, vein pulsing prominently on the side of his neck which showed his heart rate pick up as his bit back at you. "Why can't you see the position that I'm in? Take yourself out of your stupid footballer bubble and see the bigger picture for a second. I've dropped everything for you to be here. Friends, family, degree, but you haven't even got the decency to acknowledge me!" You were somewhere between tears and about to erupt with anger. You needed to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret in a few hours time but there were some things that you needed to get off your chest because they’d be brewing in your head for a while. He’d certainly changed since he’d moved clubs, you weren’t sure if it was the bigger pay cheque, larger media following, heavier pressure on him from playing at a higher level or possibly a mixture of all of them - but he definitely wasn’t the same person you’d started dating almost three years ago now.
“All I see is someone being needy for attention”, he snarled which was the final straw for you so you took yourself off to the spare bedroom, not even able to look at him without his face making you distraught and a little teary, let alone share a bed with him. Your relationship had never been perfect, he’d blow hot and cold with you occasionally, dipping in and out of commitment without a second thought leaving you feeling like you were on the outside, never really knowing where you stood with him from time to time when he would give you the cold shoulder but cuddle you for a hour the next day. You weren’t perfect either, not being able to grasp how someone was so carefree, causing you to occasionally making a decision out of impulse rather than thinking through the consequences before hand, meaning an argument would escalate even more when he frustrated you. It was times like that when you had your biggest doubts. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours on end, trying to work out what you’d done to irritate him that time. The fact he was so carefree was beginning to become a reoccurring theme, possibly the root of the problem was that was he didn’t really care, or at least he acted like he didn’t. He was becoming inconsiderate and you were becoming tired of it.
The morning after wasn’t much better. The atmosphere was still heavy with tension that could you virtually cut with the knife you were buttering your toast with. He was across the kitchen from you, making a mug of tea with his back turned to you but you could tell from his posture alone that he was tired with his shoulders slumped. After last night’s fiasco, you’d learnt not to break the silence and get your head bitten off, you’d said all you felt you needed to without going too far and really doing some damage.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” He spoke, sleep evident in his voice as he threw the teabag in the bin. “Which bit?” You asked, not entirely sure as to which part if the argue argument he was picking at, there was quite a lot to go through. “When you were going on about the point in you being here?” He reminded of the events that’s you’d spent hours trying to block out your mind. You had two options: say yes and risk World War 3 taking place over the kitchen island or say no and bottle up your feelings again like you’d been doing for months. “Yeah... I did”, you confessed, chose the first options and watched his face sink. ‘Oh fuck’, you thought, ‘that wasn’t the answer he wanted’ - his emotions plastered on his face flung you into a world of guilt as he stared solemnly into his mug.
 “Would you go back home?” He asked, not breaking his gaze with his drink to make eye contact with you. You wanted him to know how you truly felt but without hurting him, even though he’d spent months unintentionally hurting you. “I’ve considered it”, you spilt to him, “only occasionally when I’m overthinking things. You know when your deep in thought in the middle of the night and everything seems a billion times worse than it actual is”, you added, trying to reason with him to soften the blow and being careful not to add insult to injury. Yet last night, thinking about it didn’t make it any worse, instead just putting things into perspective and you were seriously considering taking a break and going back home. “I don’t think either of us are in a state to talk about”, you watched him yawn as your eyelids felt heavy, the adrenalin rush from the argument clearly took a told on your quality of sleep.
“We can’t just keep brushing it under the carpet”, he said matter-of-factly as if he hadn’t been acting like a child 8 hours ago, he was hardly a martyr. “Why are you so desperate to talk now?” You impulsively blurted and then instantly regretted it. It sounded far more facetious than you intended whilst he lent against the kitchen island as you waited for his reaction. ‘Fucking hell’, you scolded yourself for being such a bitch, whilst your boyfriend stood opposite you - practically a ticking time bomb with the end result probably him throwing hands and storming off again, but on this occasion it was probably deserved after the snide comment.
“I can’t be under a roof with you knowing that your unhappy with me, something needs to change”, he took a sip of his tea and nodded calmly, changing the subject, not giving the reaction you expected but you certainly weren’t complaining. “Tell me, what is it specifically that you makes you unhappy because I can tell somethings wrong”, he made eye contact with you, with bags under his eyes and glaze behind them that told you he was upset too. “It’s the blowing hot and cold, staying out late, mood swings...”, your voice tailed off towards the end. You could’ve rambled on and listed a whole host of things that annoyed you but you didn’t want to overwhelm him given that sensitive conversations like that were few and far between.
“The team’s been struggling at the moment, you know I haven’t quite got the hang of a work - life balance yet. I try not to bring it all home to you, babe, I swear but sometimes I can’t help it”, he babbled on aimlessly for a bit but it was the nickname that softened you, making you relax in your seat and smile slightly. At least it had given you some clarity that it was nothing you’d done to upset him. “It’s fine, calm down we can work through it”, you reassured him as he started to get worked up about what he had and hadn’t been doing over the past few months, and whilst the situation hadn’t been ‘fine’ the fact he wasn’t totally oblivious to your feelings anyone made things better. The two of you sat in silence for a while, him sipping on his drink and you nibbling your toast which had gone cold by that point.
“You gonna eat that?” He asked, eyeing up the half eaten piece of toast on your plate. You just shook your head which he basically took as an invite to finish it for you. “I love you, you know that right?” He whispered and swallowed the toast before giving you a kiss on the side of your head, no doubt leaving toast crumbs there as well. You leaned your head on his shoulder for a few moments, enjoying the blissful silence between the two you that, for once, wasn’t awkward or tense.
“You know the first thing we can sort out?” You lifted your head and faced him, who nodded eagerly
“What?”
“Your morning breath, go and clean your teeth”, you held your nose mockingly and pointed to the stairs, telling his to go to the bathroom. He furrowed his eyebrows in dismay and kissed your lips despite your resistance although it hadn’t being particularly strong given you’d had very little physical contact, that you were oh-so familiar with, it was definitely something you’d missed.
~ tell me who you imagined it with, hope you enjoyed it 💕
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svtkillua · 4 years ago
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milk and tea > 4
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rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 6.1k
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1 - 2 - 3 - chap 4 - 5 - 6 [final]
The sky was dull every day during the week that passed, like the rain had sucked all the color from it and drained it away, clouds thick and dark like a threat from up above. Most people had been staying inside, couped up with their mid day coffees and bundled in blankets, cuddled up with the person they loved to keep them warm. Part of you wondered if that was where Todoroki was, if he was at home curled up in Momo’s lap with his head on her shoulder, if he’d already washed away the emptiness from the week before. The same emptiness that was eating you whole, swallowing up any joy left inside you every time you remembered the way his lips had felt against your own. 
Todoroki was gone when you woke up that morning a week ago, the smell of his cologne still bathed into the sheets when you hugged them just a little bit tighter to your chest. The apartment had felt dead, as hollow as your chest did when your eyes opened to find nothing there beside you in bed. Everything was unfair, all of it, getting to kiss him once but knowing you never would again, getting to memorize how he sounded when he said ‘ I love you ‘ but never getting to utter it back to him for the rest of your lives. It had made your eyes burn, made you scream into your pillow to muffle the sound as much as you could, made your nails dig into your palms until they left marks. 
Your apartment had been suffocating, the ghost of Todoroki still vivid on your bed and beside your front door, still following you in a way that made it hard to breathe. You didn’t think you could be there for a while, could be in the place where both your desperate ‘I love you’s‘ were bouncing off the walls, reverberating into your bones and making them shake. You couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t keep on acting like you were fine and continue trying to bottle everything up inside. The seal on your feelings had been broken and you couldn’t stuff them all back in where no one could see them, everything now up at the surface, letting you appear cracked and broken. 
Somehow that had lead you to Midoriya’s, where you cried into his chest for a solid hour while he held you on the sofa, where he listened to the words that poured past your lips without anything spewed back from his own mouth. He’d been more than kind, promising it would be okay, bringing you tea making you stay in their guest room so you wouldn’t have to go home just yet. He didn’t judge you, didn’t tell you how horrible you’d been to catch feelings for someone who was accounted for, his eyes full of worry for your distressed state every day since you’d shown up at his place one week ago. 
Your eyes fluttered shut as your head tipped back, body curled up on the sofa in Midoriya’s living room, his soulmate out of town, himself in the kitchen making the both of you lunch, his hums loud enough for you to hear. Todoroki had tried to call you every day, but you’d been too scared to talk to him just yet, guilt like a weight on your chest every time you hit the ignore button. Every time he’d send you a text after, simple texts that held so much love behind them, the words laced with worry and aching and all the pain you could feel in your chest mimicked in jumbled together letters. Everything hurt, like you’d worked out far too hard but didn’t stretch afterwords, like your muscles were contracted and too tight to loosen back to normal. 
When you opened your eyes again you caught sight of it, the diamond still placed on your finger as the ring twisted from the way your hands were wringing together, lungs burning like they were full of smoke as you skimmed your touch over it.
Todoroki hadn’t taken it when he left, the jewelry still on your finger when you’d woken up, and despite how heavy your chest felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. Maybe if you kept it on long enough you could pretend it was a part of you, maybe it could be what you looked at on days you were the most lonely and could think of Todoroki without the unimaginable pain that came laced with his image now. 
You wondered if it would get easier eventually, if maybe in a few months you wouldn’t regret getting to kiss him or tell him you loved him, that maybe you’d get to look back at it and feel thankful rather than devastated. It didn’t feel like it would, like a wound that was too big to heal, a gaping hole in the shape of your heart blown right through your rib cage. Maybe one morning you’d wake up beside another man and think that you loved him even more than you loved Todoroki, even if the mere idea made bile rise in your throat, the thought enough to make your head shake as Midoriya’s figure approached you on the sofa. 
“Here.” He hummed, hands extending as he plopped down beside you, passing over a bowl of whatever concoction he’d come up with, the tangy scent enough to make you mutter a soft thank you before you took a small bite. You weren’t hungry, you hadn’t been much of anything past upset all week, but Midoriya had been pretty insistent on making sure you ate and kept yourself from moping all the time, and at the moment you didn’t feel like arguing. He was being nice enough to let you stay there, you didn’t want to come across as rude to the one person you felt like you still fully had. “Taste okay?” 
“It’s great Midoriya, thank you.” You hummed faintly when your head bobbed in a nod, eyes downcasted to the bowl propped in your palm rather than focusing on his face. You could feel him staring at you, the concern oozing out of his pores like water raging down a river. He wanted you to talk about things, wanted you to open up and let yourself feel something openly rather than keeping things to a vocal minimum. Slowly your eyes floated over to his worry filled features, his huge eyes widening ever so slightly when he realized you’d caught him staring, lips pursed as he licked a bit of sauce off of them. “What?” 
“What?” 
“You’re staring at me.” 
“I’m not.” He shook his head dismissively and looked away, legs folding up under himself as he reached for the remote, flicking the volume up a few notches before smiling to himself. Your eyes rolled as you shoveled another bite of food past your lips, stomach unconsciously grumbling as your eyes flickered once down to your phone, watching the screen flash with light when it buzzed. “But if I was, it’d just be because I’m worried about you. Is that really so bad?” 
“I don’t want to talk about things.” You sighed and glanced at him, your phone buzzing again under your knee, the vibrations making it slip down the couch cushion towards your legs. “I know you just want to help Midoriya, and you are a lot, but you don’t get how I’m feeling. You never will. The only person who could come even close to getting how I feel is maybe Todoroki, and he’s the last person I want to talk to right now.” 
It was a lie, you wanted to talk to Todoroki so bad you could feel it in your bones. The problem was that you couldn’t handle it. Even saying his name out loud made your stomach twist, throat constricting until you forced down another bite of food. Everything felt harder without him, like you’d gotten tossed to the bottom of a mountain and told to climb back up with your bare hands, like you supposed to run a marathon with two broken ankles. You weren’t sure how to feel now besides depressed, weren’t sure how to make yourself move on from the hollow sensation in your chest when the person you wanted to fill it was in the arms of someone else. 
“You should talk to him, even if you don’t want to.” He sighed, leaning back on the couch once he abandoned his half empty bowl on the coffee table in front of him. Your eyes danced over his palm when it landed on your knee, savoring the comforting squeeze while you blinked away the burning hiding behind your lashes. “Todoroki, I mean. I know you don’t want to but I can guarantee he’s just as miserable as you are, maybe even more.” 
Your head shook as you set your bowl down, arms folding over your chest before your phone buzzed again beneath your leg, fingers clasping around the device and moving it up to rest on your blanket covered lap, glancing at Midoriya rather than the screen. He was staring at you again, eyebrows knitted together as he fidgeted his fingers in front of his long stomach, lips pressing into a thin line when you both recognized the sound of your phone vibrating another time in your lap. 
When you peeked down at the device you let out a shaky breathe, eyeing the string of messages all followed by Todoroki’s name, the text bubbles seeming like ghosts that had come back to haunt you. 
Todoroki [ 15:18 ] : 
You’re not at work again. 
Todoroki [ 15:20 ] : 
I don’t know if your okay or if you hate me now or what. 
Todoroki [ 15:22 ] : I miss you so fucking much. 
Todoroki [ 15:22 ] : 
Please talk to me.
You swallowed, hands shaky as you tossed the phone away from yourself, eyes drooping shut as Midoriya sighed beside you, arm looping around your shoulders before you were falling in his chest and crying quietly. His arms held you a little tighter the longer you stayed like that, like he was trying to protect you from the world still turning, like he wanted to shield you from your own thoughts that were trying to devour you. It’d been the theme of the week, you trying to shut yourself away from everyone else and Midoriya being there to help you when the cracks in your armor got too big to ignore. He wanted to help you but didn’t really know how, wanted to ease the pain in your chest but had no clue how to put himself in your shoes. 
Things had been easy for Midoriya, he’d met his soulmate right after highschool, their marks perfect matching swirls of blue. They’d gotten married, moved into an apartment, never had to be separated for more than a few days since they met. Their love had blossomed from day one, their relationship the perfect depiction of what soulmates were supposed to be, their personalities complimenting each other and their hearts beating in time with the others. You envied it so much, loathed yourself for how jealous you got on the nights his soulmate came home and you could hear them laughing quietly from their bedroom, despised watching them cook breakfast together before one of them left for work because they looked so genuinely happy and you’d never get that with Todoroki. 
Hell, maybe you’d never get that with anyone. 
It took awhile for you to calm down, the song of Midoriya quietly humming like the soundtrack lulling you back to calm, heartbeat slowing to its normal tempo as the sun peeked through the clouds out the window, flooding the floor beneath it with light. Everything was quiet when you shifted from his grasp, rubbing at your eye sockets as Midoriya took your phone and turned it off for you, setting it aside as his palm landed on your shoulder and left a comforting squeeze. Silence fell for a few minutes as the both of you stared at the television screen, though you weren’t taking any of it it, your body drained and eyes heavy from the crying, lungs exhausted from sucking in air so hard. 
“I’m gonna ask you something and I don’t want you to get upset with me.” 
Your head turned to look at him, vision hazy from the bit of moisture clinging to your eyelashes, Midoriya leaning forward to retrieve his drink from the coffee table. He took a sip, your eyebrow raising as if telling him to go on, arms folding over your chest lazily while your foot bounced unceremoniously against the carpet. 
“So I have this friend, Awase, he doesn’t have a soulmate either.” He huffed when you interjected him with a small groan, hands raising to your tired face as your head started to shake, already having a feeling you knew where his question was going. “Relax, I just want you to get lunch with him, not like a date. I just thought maybe talking to someone who has a better idea of what you have to deal with could be good for you. Please? For me?” 
You exhaled heavily, fingers parting from where they were resting over your eye sockets so you could look at him, his emerald eyes wide and pleading, like he was desperate for you to say yes. You knew he meant well, that he wanted to help you, that he wanted to let you live a life that wasn’t so clouded over with darkness but wasn’t sure how to get there. It made your stomach twist, a small bubble of guilt floating up your esophagus for all the stress and worries you’d dumped onto him. You felt like a burden at times even if he insisted you weren’t, like your suffering was making him suffer and it made you want to disappear. Sometimes it made you want to run away so you could start fresh where no one could hurt you and you could hurt no one, but you knew that was irrational. 
None the less, the guilt combined with the way his teeth gnawed on his bottom lip made you reluctantly bob your head in a nod, the shy but content smile that spread on Midoriya’s face enough to make you feel like it was the right decision. Even if it seemed useless, even if the idea of having to leave the house felt like too much work when everywhere you looked reminded you of what you didn’t have. You doubted it would work, were unconvinced simply talking to someone else could change anything, but if humoring Midoriya was all it took to make him feel even an ounce better than it was worth it. 
Because you knew how it felt to be miserable, and because of that, you’d never wish that upon someone else. 
The café was quiet when you walked inside, fingers clasped tightly together like a knot in front of your lap, the light spring breeze brushing your hair away from your neck as you peered around the outside seating area. It was beautiful, the few trees lining the courtyard dotted with flowers and bursts of green, the tables set with shining copper colored silverware. You felt out of place, eyes darting down to your black sweater and blue jean skirt, sneakers scuffed up on the ends from dragging your feet just a bit too much. You felt nervous, on edge, like somehow your heart knew something was happening but you didn’t know yourself, anxious with the arranged meeting with a guy you never knew, almost unusually scared by the idea of meeting someone like yourself. 
You didn’t know if you could handle it. On the one side you figured maybe Midoriya was right, that maybe talking to someone who also lacked a soulmate would help you feel a little less alone. Maybe he was content being alone like the rest of them, or maybe, just maybe, he was like you, desperate for love and affection, miserable watching the rest of the world get all the things he wanted. You weren’t sure you wanted to see so many similarities between the two of you, scared of what it would make you think of yourself, afraid that you’d see that depression sunk into his irises like it was your own. You couldn’t ignore your problems when they were staring you head on, even if having to admit how upset you were felt like you were getting your teeth pulled. It had taken a lot to make you even tell Midoriya. That longing for someone to care had been the nudge that pushed you into his apartment days before, and eventually led you to now.
Awase was easy to spot, his hair spiked upwards, poking out from under his blue patterned headband, his pale blue flannel unbuttoned and fluttering when the wind blew, white shirt beneath rising and falling with his breathes. His jeans looked a bit loose on him when he shifted in his seat, a large bandage poking out on his wrist from beneath a glove that was encasing one of his hands, free hand grabbing at the cup of coffee in front of him. He was handsome, a few girls glancing at him as they walked past to head back into the café, but his head didn’t lift up once, his phone beside his cup when he reached forward to check the time on his phone. 
“Awase?” 
Your voice made his head lift, a small, polite smile spreading on his lips as he pushed out from the table to stand, eyes never leaving you as you approached. You pretended not to notice the slight dark circles around his eyes, wondering if he’d notice your own as well, the pair of you settling into seats opposite each other as he waved the waitress over. You ordered a coffee, shifting in your seat as you took a nervous glance around, like if you avoided his gaze long enough he would disappear. 
“Midoriya told me a lot about you.” His voice was deep, soothing, the kind of sound you could fall asleep to if you listened long enough. Your eyes trailed back over to his face, wondering if he could see how bloodshot they were, questioning if the gentle laugh that fell from his lips was genuine when his head shook side to side. “He also told me you probably weren’t going to want to talk to me much.” 
Your eyes rolled, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat, his lips spreading into a gentle smile when he got a reaction from you. You shifted slightly in your seat, in an effort to get more comfortable, hands resting on the table top as he took a sip from his mug again, the light breeze making a few flower petals rustle above you. You tried to ignore the way the light caught the ring still on your finger, tried not to feel the rock that grew in your throat when you let your eyes focus on the jewelry. 
Looking at it was becoming some weird form of self torture, a constant reminder of who you were missing and why you were missing them, a physical representation of all the things you wanted but would never get to have. Despite that, you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off, like if you did that night would have just disappeared. Like if the ring was gone you’d forget how it had felt to have his lips on yours, like the memory of his heartbeat pounding against your eardrums would cease to exist. Then again, maybe that would be good for you, to just forget everything, to not find yourself unable to sleep anymore because you kept repeating his voice saying ‘I love you’ in your head like a broken record. 
It was hard to sleep when your desires were chasing you, strangling you with their bare hands and defining you with their whispered voices. 
“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, necessarily, I just don’t really know what to say.” You shrugged, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you blinked away your thoughts, eyes tearing away from your ring to instead glance at the waitress as she set down your coffee with a polite nod. “It just seems odd to dump all my feelings onto anyone, let alone someone I hardly even know. I don’t usually like to talk about the things that are bothering me.” 
Awase’s head bobbed in a nod as he pursed his lips slightly, a gentle ‘ah’ falling from them as he glanced away from you to instead look at the flowers on the tree above you. A petal fell down and landed near your hand, your fingertips grazing the soft surface, careful not to break it, feeling like it was as fragile as your heart had become. Somehow however, its fragility was beautiful. Yours felt like a flaw, like you were defined by how delicate your well being had become. When people looked at you, you doubted they saw a soft and gentle person. Instead they saw someone who was heartbroken and horrible at hiding it, someone they pitied, someone who didn’t know their place in the world. 
Someone who wasn’t even sure they had such a place anymore. 
“Your soulmark is beautiful.” Your eyes trialed down to your palm when Awase’s finger tapped against it, the line of gold seeming darker today than normal, brighter, like it was laughing at how hollow you had become. You swallowed down the nerves that spiked up every time you stared at the mark, trying to quiet down the self destructive thoughts that were threatening to cloud your conscious. “It’s a shame you probably hate it.” 
“Don’t you hate yours?” His lips spread slightly at your question, a sad smile gracing his features as his eyes trailed to his hand covered by a glove, shoulders hunching like the weight of the world had been dropped back onto them. For a moment you felt guilty for asking, fidgeting in your seat and picking up your cup to take a gulp of your scolding coffee as a distraction until he looked at you again. 
“Of course I do. Everyday.” 
The conversation started to blossom, Awase talking about what he struggled with, how the few people he’d met without soulmates always seemed so different than him. How everyone else seemed content alone, but he never could, how everyone else was happy but he never really seemed to feel that way fully. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like you had said it yourself, every syllable and emotion and wince that twitched across his features were once you’d also gotten used to, that familiar ache of being different than everyone else around you dissipating if even for a few seconds. 
Midoriya and Todoroki would try to sympathize for you on the odd times you vented to them but they never really could understand, no one ever had before besides Awase, because he actually understood how you felt when you poured out words about how lonely you were. No one else had ever grasped how incredibly depressing it was to feel empty all the time, to look around and see everyone else getting to have the things you so desperately wanted. Midoriya and Todoroki had soulmates, they didn’t know what it was like to know you were meant to be alone, didn’t understand how hard it was to keep on fighting every day when all your heart wanted to do was give up. 
You talked for well over an hour, about the world and your emotions and how similarly difficult things were for the both of you, your coffees being emptied and refilled twice before they were abandoned and began to grow cold. The sun had started to dip in the sky when you took a glance at the time on your phone, Awase’s voice trailing off as he laughed softly at something he had said, lips wrapping around the edge of his mug as he sipped at his chilled drink, a sense of calm washed over the both of you from the mutual comfort of having someone understand. He made you feel a little less alone, even if once you both left the restaurant you’d go back to remembering exactly what had been making you so upset. That it wasn’t just the lack of soulmates that was making things hard, but rather being in love with someone who already had one. 
Your phone buzzed when you locked it but you didn’t look, flipping it so the screen was facing the table as Awase pulled down on the sleeves of his shirt, which had been bunched up around his elbows. It buzzed a second time, his eyes drifting to it before lifting to your face, a faint smile on his lips as you cleared your throat and folded your hands in front of yourself on the table top, nodding once towards his glove covered hand before tipping your head to the side, admiring the way the sun was bouncing off his cheekbone. 
“Why are you wearing that, by the way?” 
“My palm got cut at work.” He lifted his hand up some, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he pulled the glove up just barely, so you could see the bandages covering his wrist. “It’s mostly healed now, but my doctor suggested I keep it until I have a check up with him again, so it doesn’t get infected. The bandages don’t really stay on that well alone.” 
“I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s annoying.” You sipped your coffee, cringing from the temperature of the liquid as it slid down your throat, ears faintly picking up the sound of the door opening behind your back, not bothering to look. His shoulders rose and fell as he let the glove go, glancing down at his fingers as he wiggled them slightly, his eyes glued to them like a little kid watching their favorite show. 
“It’s not so bad, though it gets hot sometimes.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, free hand raising to scrub at the back of his neck when his head lifted properly on his shoulders, foot barely knocking into yours as he let his blue eyes flutter shut when the wind blew past the pair of you. “It covers up my soulmark, which is nice, I don’t have to stare at it all the time when I write or cook or clean. Sometimes, when I can see it, I just focus on my mark and think about how much I wish it wasn’t there, that soulmates weren’t even a thing. Sometimes I wish I could just carve it out of my palm and never have to see it again.” 
“I wish that all the time.” 
“What are you doing here?” 
Your head whipped up as your spine locked up, Awase’s eyebrows bunching together as a shadow blocked the sun that had been hitting his face. He looked as confused as you felt panicked, eyes following your body as you turned enough to stare up at Todoroki, hands shaking on the table top as his irises locked onto your own, stealing the air from your lungs. For a second you almost thought you were imagining him, that you’d finally lost your mind and were just picturing him wherever you looked. 
“Todoroki-” You felt like you couldn’t breathe, taking in the way his lips were red and chapped, like he’d been biting them too much, something he always did when he was anxious. His eyes were underlined with deep blue circles, much like your own, like he hadn’t slept in days, his hair a mess and sticking in to many directions. Somehow he still looked beautiful, even with his sweater bunched oddly around his waist, his hands fidgeting inside his coat pockets as he blinked between yourself and Awase twice. 
“You haven’t been answering my texts all week. I thought something happened to you. I thought-” He trailed off, swallowing hard enough for you to see his adam’s apple bob, his jaw tightening and relaxing repeatedly, like he was trying to stop himself from screaming. He looked so small, like the world had crushed him into a ball and was forcing him to stay there, like you pulling away from him had been enough to make him start to lose his control on things. He could usually compose himself, could handle the weight of everyone pushing him in all directions, but he looked like he’d lost that now, like he was in the middle of a maze with no map to know how to escape. “Who is this?” 
“I’m Awase.” Awase awkwardly scratched at his hair, able to sense something was happening even if he didn’t know what, his eyes flickering between yourself and Todoroki as you stared at each other. Todoroki didn’t even glance at him when he spoke, taking a step closer to you as his eyes danced once to your shaking hands, your heart leaping to your throat when his lips parted as he stared at them, taking a glance and noticing the ring as it caught the bit of sun still poking through the tree branches up above. “I can give you guys a minute, if you want.” 
You could feel the pull in your chest, could sense the way your heart was dying to have his arms wrapped around you and feel his lips against your ear while he whispered to you. You were so desperate for him, so miserable just looking at him and knowing you couldn’t touch him, not there, not in public where anyone could see you. It made your eyes burn, them welling with tears so quickly it almost seemed fake, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as his bottom lip shook just slightly, nostrils flaring and head shaking side to side. You missed him so much you could taste it on your tongue, could feel the bile rising in your throat when his eyes tore away from your own as the door opened back up behind you. 
“Todoroki, c’mon, we’re leaving.”
Momo’s voice made your spine lock up, eyes glued to Todoroki when his gaze maneuvered back to your own, feet unmoving from his spot while his mouth opened and closed, like he had a thousands things to say but had forgotten how to speak. You’d of given anything to of been alone with him then, to get to say all the things you weren’t allowed to now, to have a few more hours of touching eachothers hands and tasting each others lips, even if it would only be more fuel to torture yourself with later. 
“Todoroki.” Momo’s body came into your view but you didn’t glance at her, her head down as she grabbed onto Todoroki’s hand and gave him a gentle tug in her direction. Everything was happening so fast, his feet scuffing on the concrete as Momo tugged on him once more, her hair covering her face from your view as you struggled to stop yourself from crying. You barely noticed the way Awase’s head rose, didn’t focus on the way he sucked in a sharp breathe as Todoroki got reluctantly pulled away from you “The cab is waiting, we have to go.” 
Your body turned to watch him as he left, whipping around like you were engrossed from a film and didn’t want to miss the ending, elbow knocking into your coffee mug and sending the liquid spilling out all over the table top. Your vision was blurry as you forced yourself to look away from the couple, choking slightly on air as you grabbed a wad of napkins and tried to clean up the mess, sniffling as Awase jumped back a bit while the coffee dribbled off the edge of the table onto the ground below. It’d splashed a few dots onto his shirt, his glove completely soaked as he laughed quietly, not mentioning the tears brimming in your eyes as he tugged the fabric off his fingers and tossed into onto a dry patch of the table. 
“I’m so sorry.” You breathed, using your sleeve to try and dry your eyes, swallowing down the emotions bubbling up in your esophagus, forcing the tears back down to let out later, when you were alone and the world couldn’t see you. It was almost funny how a few seconds of being in Todoroki’s presence was enough to totally derail you, mentally slapping yourself for not thinking about how close the café was to his and Momo’s apartment. Your body turned, arms extending as you took a few napkins off a nearby empty table, turning back around to Awase as you reached for his damped, now bare, hand, his bandages having lost their grip from the coffee soaking them, now laying beside his discarded glove. 
“It was an accident.” 
“Still.” You sighed, shaking your head as you dabbed the napkins onto the face of his palm, his skin warm as he didn’t fight you off, his eyes lingering on the door Todoroki and Momo had slipped out of, a look on his face you couldn’t quite place. You flipped his palm, pressing the bandages onto the skin gently, in case his cut was still sore, not glancing at it as you focused on his face for a moment longer. “I’m really sorry.” 
“It’s okay, really.” He smiled lazily, head shaking as he blinked a few times, like he was trying to snap himself out of a daze. Your head dipped down, throat clearing as you moved the napkins away from his palm and tossed them onto the table top. You paused, eyes squinting as you stared down at his skin, heart speeding up in your chest when you felt all the hairs on your body stand on end. His soulmark was visible, even with the small cut running across his palm, your fingers shaking as you traced hesitantly against it. 
Because there on his palm were dark, blueberry colored lines, branching out from the middle onto each of his fingertips, like the branches of a tree. Because there on his hand was his soulmark, bold and unmistakably recognizable, one you had memorized the shape of a long time ago, one you couldn’t forget if you ever even wanted to. 
You had seen his mark before. 
Because his mark was the same as Todoroki’s.
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princesssarisa · 4 years ago
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A defense of the ending of “Wuthering Heights"
@astrangechoiceoffavourites, @theheightsthatwuthered, @wuthering-valleys, @heightsandmoors, @incorrectwutheringheightsquotes
 I’ve been reading other people’s opinions on Wuthering Heights this past year, I’ve noticed a small recurring theme.
It’s the idea that the ending feels out of place; tacked on; anti-climactic; too tame compared to the rest of the book. That it feels wrong for Heathcliff to simply lose interest in his revenge and then lose the will to live, or for the surviving characters to have any kind of happy or hopeful ending after so much brutality.
One book I read excerpts from on Google Books (I don’t remember the title or the author) suggested that maybe Emily Brontë originally wrote a very different, more brutal and Gothic ending, now lost. The author proposed that the final ending was probably the result of Anne and/or Charlotte urging Emily to tone down the book’s “immorality.” Of course this is pure conjecture. This same author also speculated that in the novel’s first draft, Heathcliff was explicitly Mr. Earnshaw’s illegitimate son, but that Anne and/or Charlotte persuaded Emily to change it. I’m not at all convinced by that theory, since @astrangechoiceoffavourites has argued very eloquently that to make Heathcliff and Cathy’s love forbidden because of the incest taboo rather than because of social class and race would go against the plot’s main themes and make nonsense of Heathcliff’s revenge on the Lintons and Earnshaws.
Still, this theorist isn’t the only person to think the ending (and possibly the whole second generation storyline) feels like the work of a different author than the rest of the book. Just recently I read a comment on Facebook arguing that a more cohesive, consistent Wuthering Heights would have had “a much darker and more explosive ending.” I assume a similar mindset is why some theorize that Branwell wrote the novel’s first half and Emily wrote the second. (I think I hate that theory even more than I hate the theory that Branwell wrote it all – “He didn’t write the whole book, but he did write the part everyone likes best.”) And if we compare the various adaptations’ endings to the ending of the book, there’s definitely a trend of giving Heathcliff a more brutal death.
I understand all of this. The ending of the book is ironic. Heathcliff himself knows it’s ironic: “It is a poor conclusion, is it not?” he asks Nelly, “an absurd termination to my violent exertions?” We don’t expect a towering, terrifying yet fascinating Byronic anti-hero like Heathcliff to become apathetic and ineffectual in the end and then die quietly (albeit mysteriously and eerily) in bed. We’d sooner expect him to freeze to death chasing Cathy’s ghost through a blizzard, or to be shot by his worst enemy, or to be lured by Cathy’s ghost to commit suicide by gunshot.
But I know I’m not the only person who thinks the entire book is fully cohesive and who sees nothing wrong with the ending whatsoever.
As far as I’m concerned, Heathcliff’s “absurd” end is more interesting than anything “darker and more explosive” would have been, precisely because it’s unexpected and yet makes perfect sense. Revenge never makes Heathcliff truly happy or brings him peace of mind: we know that all along. It might distract him from his pain, but it can’t cure it. While initially surprising, in hindsight it’s not surprising at all that, with no out-of-character repentance or remorse, he eventually loses the will to seek any more revenge. At heart it was never what he really wanted most; his real greatest desire is and always has been to be with Cathy.
Then there’s the strongest factor in his loss of his will for revenge: his grudging empathy for Hareton. Again, as far as I’m concerned, this is fascinating irony. Heathcliff has purposefully set out to shape Hareton into a copy of himself. Ultimately, that scheme “goes horribly right,” because he sees too much of his younger self in Hareton to hate him as much as he wants to, or to have the will to separate him from Cathy II the way he himself was separated from Cathy I. Then there’s Hareton’s resemblance to his aunt, Cathy I; even though Heathcliff’s passion for Cathy has been the motive for all his revenge on the two families that separated them, in the end it’s what makes him unable to ruin the lives of her lookalike nephew and her daughter, even though they’re also the children of the two men most responsible for taking Cathy from him. Again, it works because it’s handled delicately and without sentimentality. He still shows no remorse or regret for his past actions, and never shows any real kindness or fondness to Hareton or Cathy II, but despises the conflicted feelings they stir in him. But the fact remains that, despite all his efforts to be a monster over the years, he’s still a human being, capable of some empathy for people in whom he sees aspects of himself and of his beloved Cathy. I think it’s fascinating that this humanity, and not his monstrous actions, is what undoes him in the end.
Also, as some critics have pointed out, the very fact that Heathcliff receives no punishment for his sins (apart from his inner torment) makes the ending subversive by Victorian standards. If he had died a brutal death, it could easily have been viewed as his comeuppance, demonstrating God’s justice. From a moral and religious perspective, it might be all the more disturbing that instead he gets to die as close to a peaceful death as his character allows, with a devilish smile on his face.
Moving beyond Heathcliff’s death, I don’t see anything wrong with Hareton and Cathy II′s ending either.
First of all, it isn’t necessarily a straightforward happy ending. It’s definitely bittersweet if we have any sympathy for Heathcliff, and not just because he dies. This penniless, abused, disdained orphan of color defied the classism and racism of his society by clawing his way to wealth and status and by bringing down the two families who once oppressed him, but in the end, it’s all for nothing. Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange go back to the Earnshaw and Linton heirs and the only trace left of Heathcliff is a single name and death date on a tombstone. He’s just as much of a “nobody” in death as he was as a homeless child. Of course it’s tempting to cheer for this fact because of his cruelty and because Cathy II and Hareton are sympathetic, basically innocent young people whom he unfairly punished for their parents’ sins. But in a way at least, especially in Marxist readings of the book (which I don’t fully agree with but do see validity in), the ending can be viewed as the triumph of the classist and racist status quo.
Nor, as some critics have argued, is it guaranteed that Cathy II and Hareton will live happily ever after. First of all, the fact remains that Hareton loved and loyally served Heathcliff to the end, and to please Hareton, Cathy had to stop speaking out against Heathcliff even though he had horribly abused her. There’s also the fact that Hareton once hit Cathy himself; only once, and before they were even friends, let alone lovers, but in the real world it rarely bodes well for a woman to marry a man who once slapped her. A few critics have wondered if Hareton is really permanently “tamed” in the end, or will eventually revert to the roughness Heathcliff bred in him and abuse his new power and status the same way Heathcliff did. On the flip side, there’s the fact that apart from her conceding not to criticize Heathcliff, Cathy seems to rule over Hareton almost as much as her mother did over Heathcliff when they were children. She educates him, he craves her esteem and does her bidding, and in his lessons she meets his mistakes and inattention (however playfully) with “smart slaps” and threats of hair-pulling. Some critics have wondered if we should view these as red flags; if Cathy II is destined to be an emotional abuser like her mother was.
But even if you don’t subscribe to those darker interpretations of the ending... even if you view Cathy and Hareton as fundamentally good people who genuinely grow and change for the better, find a healthy balance between the worlds of Thrushcross Grange and Wuthering Heights, and will be truly happy together... well, what’s wrong with that?
Is it really so impossible to believe that sometimes the cycle of abuse can be broken, or so “out of place” to show it being broken at the end of a book that shows its horrors? Is it just naïve delusion to hope that, with effort, children can avoid repeating their parents’ mistakes and opposing social structures like the Heights and the Grange can be reconciled? That at least one young couple might manage to combine the good aspects of both worlds while discarding the bad, rather than combining the worst of both worlds the way Heathcliff did? Just because the book is dark as a whole, do we really need to be so cynical when reading it that we can’t allow it to end on a note of hope?
Besides, I’ve written before about the mirror-image character arcs of the two Cathys. Cathy I is born and raised at Wuthering Heights, but eventually leaves it for Thrushcross Grange when she marries the latter household’s heir; she initially loves the rugged dark-haired Heathcliff and wanders the moors with him, but then gains snobbery, treats Heathcliff with increasing disdain, and shifts her attentions to the prissy blond-haired Edgar, whom she marries; as a result, her life ends in misery. Cathy II is born and raised at Thushcross Grange, but eventually she leaves it for Wuthering Heights when she marries the latter household’s heir; she initially loves the prissy blond-haired Linton, whom she marries, and treats the rugged dark-haired Hareton with disdain, but eventually she loses her snobbery, learns to love Hareton, and wanders the moors with him. In no way is Cathy II’s positive ending “tacked on” – her entire character arc is structured to be the opposite of her mother’s tragedy.
I understand why some people don’t care for the ending and think it feels anti-climactic or out of place. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s a thoroughly effective ending and fully consistent with what came before.
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ill-skillsgard · 4 years ago
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Not Perfect - Henry Deaver x Mistress
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Warning: 18+ smut/mentions of cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict. **mentions of impregnation and fertility issues in this part**
Note: Hello wonderful people! This will be the second-last chapter of HxM :O This one is written from Henry’s POV, as requested! I have enjoyed all the prompts and discussion and theories surrounding this series and thank everyone who joined in from the bottom of my heart. It’s been SO much fun. I’ll make sure the finale is long and jam-packed full of smut and fluff, since the last few chapters have been rather sad and angsty. So much love to you all. Enjoy!
Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost
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I tried to keep myself from bothering her while she was in the shower, but my impatience won. To be fair to her, I let twenty minutes go by before I knocked on the door. When she didn't answer, I cracked the door open and smelled her vanilla sugar body wash suffusing the vapour.
"Sweetheart?"
She took a few seconds to answer, "Yes?"
"Just wanted to check on you. Will you be much longer?"
"Why?"
"I have a surprise for you."
Another long pause before, "I'll be out when I'm finished, Henry." 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought. She's pissed. Back at the office, she seemed fine, but I assumed, after a few hours rolling around with the sour news, she'd come to a different conclusion. I had something prepared to soften the blow, as I suspected she might take it harshly.
When she came out with her hair still wet, wrapped in a thick robe, her eyes avoided mine. Instead of waiting for her to come to me, I got up and cornered her in the kitchen, but when I touched her shoulder, she shrank away.
"Honey... Is everything okay?" I asked.
She looked up at me like I was a stranger. I touched her cheek, and her eyes dropped. This was something new. I'd never seen her react with anything but joy when I grazed her skin. She must have been angrier than I thought.
"Hey, what's the matter?" I asked her.
She took in a sharp breath through her nose and shrugged. "Nothing. Why?"
"Well... I don't mean to poke, but... It seems like you're upset with me."
She shook her head and turned from me to open the cupboard. The bottom cabinet was empty, and I watched her stretch up on the tips of her toes to grab a glass from the second shelf where she couldn't reach. I chuckled and took down a cup for her, but she didn't look at me with her customary smile or even a glance.
"Baby... I'm sorry, okay? I know you're mad at me about the job thing, but... I mean, I warned you something like this might come around. And I promise I'll find you something just as good, maybe even better."
She filled her glass with ice from the freezer, nodding, lips sealed in a line. I frowned and tried for her hand, but she evaded my grasp by ducking into the fridge for the water pitcher.
"Please, sweetheart. I can't stand it when you're cross with me," I groaned.
"Sorry," her voice came out stunted. She drained half the ice water and cleared her throat, still unwilling to lock eyes with me.
The stale way she addressed me filled my chest with a sensation I'd long forgotten. I hated to say it, even if it was only in my head, but the way she stood off reminded me of how Mary would greet me at the beginning and end of each day. This brought on a wave of nausea I could not shake. My stomach twisted into knots too complicated to untangle without her bright smile and words of assurance. 
"So, what's the surprise?" She asked. 
I blinked from my anxious state. "I'm glad you asked, beautiful. You up for a car ride?" 
"Hmm, not really, but I guess I have no choice." 
"Aw, don't be like that. It'll be fun! I promise. Can you be ready to go in half an hour?" 
"Sure," she said, turning from me to get dressed. 
The closer we got to the hotel, the more curious the look on her face grew. She'd travelled to this place a hundred times before, and the familiar surroundings brought on a lot of questioning glances. I answered each of them with a smile, trying to get her hand to hold or touching her leg when I could. We pulled into the lot and went inside to check-in. 
"What are we doing here?" She asked in the elevator. 
"You'll see." 
I unlocked the door to our room and ushered her inside, where I had champagne waiting on ice and rose petals sprinkled over the bed and floor. 
"Why did you bring me here, Henry?" 
"It's the room where we first... You know. This is where it started."
She'd already had a look around and decided she wasn't impressed. Crossing her arms, she turned to me with heat in her eyes. "You mean to tell me you took me back to the room where you first cheated on your wife? Is this supposed to be some big romantic gesture? Because it's a little obtuse."
"Sweetheart, no!" I scoffed. "Don't look at it like that. This is where I fell in love with you! Right here, in this hotel, I saw you and wanted you in my life. Just looking at your face made me want to fix myself. And, maybe I didn't go about it smartly, but can you blame me? A beautiful, intelligent, caring person like you... I couldn't let you get away or risk you meeting someone else and losing my chance."
It started in her eyes. The inevitable wave of tears shrouded her irises, bleeding onto her cheeks. Then her whole face crumbled like a wall of sand washed away by the tide. I watched, horrified, as she dropped onto the love seat and hid her face behind her hands, shoulders convulsing.
"Henry! What's wrong with you?" She sniffled.
I sat next to her but she pulled away. "Hey, hey! What did I do? Honey, I thought we had an agreement about the job?"
"It's not the job!" She sobbed. "It's everything else. It's you. You're... A fake."
Then it was my turn to act shocked. "Excuse me? What on Earth are you talking about? I'm not... I'm not fake. This is exactly how I feel. I've wanted to do this for ages."
"You're a cheater," she whispered.
"It's a little more nuanced than that. You know what I was going through!"
"No. You've cheated on me. Mary told me what you did when you went to speak to her. She said you slept with her to get out of the suit... So she would drop the negotiation. You fucked her."
My blood turned cold in my veins. "I absolutely did not do that! What do you mean Mary told you I fucked her? That's positively absurd. When did you speak to her?"
"She tracked me down after work today. She waited for me in the parking garage... Said she wanted to warn me about you. The real you. Then I called the lawyer's office to verify if she'd dropped the negotiation, and she did... Just like she said."
I slid off the love seat and crawled before her, grabbed her knees, hands, forearms... Anything she'd let me touch. "No. No, no, no. That did not happen! She just said that to piss you off. To turn you against me because she has no other moves. Don't you see? She's throwing every stone she has, hoping to break something. Baby... I'd never do that. Never!"
"But you cheated on her. On your wife. Someone you gave a ring to and made all the same promises as you're making to me."
Heat and water stung my eyes. I blinked away my fiery tears and tried to make her look at me, but she wouldn't pull her gaze from the wall.
"Mary despises me. She made my life hell after I tried for years to make her happy. With everything I had, honey... Everything I fucking had in me, I gave to her, and nothing was good enough. Can you blame me for straying? For falling in love with somebody else? Yes, I'll admit a hundred times I didn't approach it right. I should have ended things before pursuing you. I should have called her that same night and told her I wanted a divorce, but I didn't. I made a mistake. A huge mistake. It's the worst thing I've ever done, but it led me to you, and I don't regret it for a second. I'm sorry. I can't rightly sit here and say I wish I didn't drink with you in this hotel that night."
"She told me you cheated on her before then."
I produced a scoff from my gaping jaw. "Of course she did! Anything to disparage me... Sweetheart, I never cheated on her before then. I'm sure she thinks so, but nothing could be further from the truth."
"Why would she make that up? She said you and your colleagues are all known for it."
"I don't know. Fuck, I don't know! Don't you see what she's trying to do? She wants to drive us apart! I never touched her that day when I went to talk with her. How could you possibly believe her?" 
"That's not all Mary told me." 
I'd had enough of the misinformation and let her eyes follow me to the other side of the room where the champagne bottle sweated, and so did I. There was no reason for me to be nervous. I knew the truth—it was only a matter of making her believe me. But what if she didn't? What if she bought Mary's pack of lies and I lost her? 
I'd undone my marriage with a lie. There was no reason another well-placed deception couldn't shatter us too. I understood what she meant about the room being an obtuse decision. There I was, standing where I'd first kissed her, on the brink of her telling me goodbye. Full circle. I deserved this. 
"What else did she say? That I have a porn addiction? That I fuck hookers? You know... Just because some men I've worked with are involved in sex scandals doesn't mean I am, or was, or support them! I've been clean and straight-laced my whole life. You know this, sweetheart. You know me. I'm not the type!"
"It's hard for me to know what's true. On the one hand, you're sweet and shy and an amazing boyfriend, but on the other... You're a cheater. No matter how you break it down, you have the capacity for deceit. And if you cheated on her, who is to say you won't cheat on me?"
To hear her doubts pouring from her lips and eyes brought me to my knees before her once again. I swallowed my galloping breath, choking down the acrid taste of desperation. She had to believe me.
"If that's what you believe, then what do I do next?" My voice teetered on the question. "Do I help you pack your things and let you go back to your place? Should I give up? Is there a point to me begging? If you say there is, I won't stop until you believe me. I'll do anything."
She sat quietly while I sat back on my haunches, imploring her to look at me. Another tear rolled down her cheek, and she sighed, shaking her head and pressing her fingers against her forehead.
"So you're saying that everything she told me is a lie? You didn't fuck her to get out of the suit? Even though she rescinded? You never cheated on her before you met me?"
While she laid out her questions like instruments of torture, I waggled my head in denial.
"There was no incident in Thailand with your colleagues? You never once betrayed her trust even in the slightest way?"
"No. No, no, no, no, no. Never. You gotta believe me."
"Then you're not sterile like she said?"
"No, no—" My tongue turned to stone in my mouth. A great chill came over me, cascading down my spine, spreading along my ribs like needles of hoarfrost. I couldn't feel my hands, though they shone with sweat. Suddenly, I couldn't hear. A piercing tone muffled her voice, unable to penetrate my punching-bag head filled with wet cotton. My legs buzzed like static, asleep under my weight, and immovable. Top-heavy, I clutched the arm of the love seat and tried not to pass out. Deep breaths. Deep, shaking, useless breaths.
"Henry?" She asked, gripping my shoulder. "Are you okay?"
She spoke through a film, voice echoing distantly as I tried to recover, but I only sunk deeper into catatonia. A gun had fired, deafening me to everything but the pain sizzling in my ears, spreading through my limbs. For an excruciating minute, I thought I was in the grips of a heart attack.
"Henry!" Her voice came back with point-blank clarity. I looked up at her reddened face, and she gasped.
"You're white as snow, Henry! Are you all right?"
"I..."
"Don't move. I'll get you some water."
She filled a glass in the kitchenette and brought it to me, but my lips pasted shut. I couldn't move my hand to take the cup.
Then I broke.
Tears like drops of sun bled from my eyes, blinding me. My throat opened, shuddering first from the groan building in the bottom of my stomach. I shook once, my whole body whipping, and then I was on the floor. I don't remember her lifting my head nor weeping in her lap as she hushed me and combed my hair. There was only pain. Deep, years-old pain I never knew existed.
Somehow she moved me to the bed and stripped me of my jacket. The ring box must have slipped out of the pocket in the process. I saw it on the bedside table once when I managed to open my eyes between bouts of tears. She stroked me like an injured dog, panting and convulsing in agony, and continued pushing air from between her teeth.
"Henry, you're okay. You're fine. Just breathe. Breathe for me, please."
By the time I recovered enough to speak, the ice in the bucket melted into a pool and the champagne bottle's label peeled off, sodden bits orbiting the glass. Crushed rose petals stuck to our clothes. The sun was long gone. She shifted me gently off her lap and went to turn on the light. I winced, eyes still bright red from crying. When she returned, she stood at the foot of the bed. I'd curled up, helpless and exhausted, but finally unfurled my limbs and sat up.
"Henry... Are you all right?"
I wished to forget, to start the day over from sunrise when we'd nuzzled each other in bed, but if I could rewind time, I wouldn't stop there.
I took in a long breath and sighed. My stomach grumbled emptily as she watched me like I was a baby bird who'd fallen from its nest and didn't know what else to do with me besides watch me squirm.
"It... It all makes sense now."
"What makes sense?"
"What you said... What she told you."
"But you said it was all lies. Do you mean—?"
"No. Those were lies. And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to prove it, but..." My throat closed up again. I fought off the emotional tide with a series of deep breaths, and she was patient. "I remember that day so clearly."
She angled her head in question, and I continued. "We failed. Over and over. We tried to have kids for a long time. At some point, we went to get some tests done to see if it was us. I had an important trip around the same time, and she assured me I could go, and she would phone me with the results. So, I left and never got her call. I thought nothing of it, chalked it up to difficulty reaching me."
She came around the bed, sat down and took my hand. "What did Mary tell you?"
"Nothing," I murmured. "She told me the results were inconclusive... That we'd had a major bad luck streak, and it could have something to do with her cycle—she wasn't always regular—but they didn't know for certain. There were other tests they could run to determine why we weren't conceiving. Mary told me not to worry, to focus on work because we were about to land a deal that bought us our current building and that we could keep trying until..."
"What if it's not you? What if it's her?"
"It's me. I know it is."
"But if everything she told me is a lie, why wouldn't she lie about that too?"
I shook my head. "It just makes too much sense. Mary's qualms were never with herself. It's always me. I'm the useless one—the sackless one. She knew she had an atom bomb in her arsenal, and she waited for the precise moment to drop it. That's what she does. She knew how badly it'd hurt me if you were the one to tell me I can't..." My voice tapered off.
"Hush now. Let's not think about this anymore."
I buckled again, this time on her shoulder. My eyes stung with salt again, running thin down my beating cheeks. Her hand crossed her body and carded through my hair as she soothed me with gentle assurances. I wiped my face dry and remembered the ring on the table. 
"I was supposed to ask you to marry me tonight," I admitted. 
"I thought you were going to wait until the divorce was finalized." 
"Yes, that's right. But I couldn't wait. All I can think about is making you my wife."
"I don't think anyone on the planet has ever been fired by and proposed to on the same day, by the same guy," she giggled. "That has to be one for the record books." 
"It's been a rollercoaster for both of us." 
"So?" She gave me an expectant look. 
"So what?" 
"Are you going to propose to me, Mr. Deaver?" 
"Right here? In this room? You said it yourself, this was a poor choice of setting. I should have taken you elsewhere. Cairo, Las Vegas, Vancouver... I should have booked us a beautiful room somewhere in the mountains and made love to you first. Not brought you back to the old job you hated and cried all over your blouse."
Suddenly, she swung off the bed, snatched up the ring box and circled. I followed her, fearing the fate of what lay inside the royal purple velvet. 
"Fine, Henry Deaver. If you don't propose to me, I guess I'll just have to propose to you." 
"Oh, no, you don't. No, no. You can't deprive me of this! I've wanted this for a long time," I said. 
"Well, you blew it. So, now it's my turn," she knelt next to the bed and opened the box without looking inside. The diamonds twinkled along the band, catching every remnant of light left in the room. My emotions got the better of me again, and I had to crush another tear before it burned a trail down my face. 
"Henry," she began. "I know you've made mistakes, and you've paid for them. And I apologize for letting someone's vengeance blur the way I see you—"
"Sweetheart,"
"Quiet, please. Let me finish," she said, brows drawing together. I curled my lips around my teeth and clamped down to keep from flapping. "Look, I don't want you to think you're not worthy of forgiveness. You are. Even if you acted out of desperation, out of hurt and loneliness and perhaps a bit of spite, you are a good man, and everyone knows it. I knew that before we ever spoke more than you ordering coffee. I mean, who the hell tips twenty on a two-dollar cup of coffee? Who feeds a whole row of parking meters, so people don't get ticketed? Who refuses a blowjob because they don't want to be an inconvenience?"
We shared a laugh.
"Please, get off your knee at least," I offered my hand.
She climbed onto the bed and sat next to me, finally taking a look at the ring inside and closing her eyes to keep from welling up. "I won't ask how much you spent on this."
"It's best not to," I supplied.
With a sigh, she leaned her head on my shoulder and passed me the box. "I don't believe what Mary said, and I was foolish to even entertain her lies. I know you truly loved her and wanted a family. I'm still just having an issue understanding why she threw that away. Because you can't have children? In this day, there are ways."
"She was never quite right for me. Her religion is her biggest determiner, but... It's not all her fault. She had a rather stringent upbringing. Lots of scripture, and even more punishment. I knew that about her before we got together. I thought I could show her what happiness was like."
"I hate to say it, but I'm glad she drove you out because now you're with me, and I can show you what happiness is like."
I clutched her close and notched her head under my chin, stroking her hair and breathing in her fresh scent as she circled my waist in her arms.
"You already have. More than I ever knew was possible. Every moment with you is like I'm winning the lottery over and over. When I wake up and see you next to me, it's like I never opened my eyes, and you're just an angel in my best dreams."
"I love you, Henry," she whispered.
"I love you too," I replied, snapping the ring box shut behind her.
She sat up and looked at the purple velvet containing her engagement ring, then up at me with big, curious eyes. I set it aside and took her hands.
"Let me have a do-over. I can't propose to you today, in this room, after all this crying. It's not perfect."
"What if I propose to you first?" She asked, snickering.
"It won't count if you don't have a ring," I replied.
"Who needs one to ask the person they love to marry them?"
"As a pre-engagement gift to me, I'd like nothing more than for you to let me propose to you properly. When the time is right."
"Somewhere in the mountains?"
I smiled softly and caressed her knuckles. "Yes, somewhere like that. Maybe under some palm trees, or out in the middle of the ocean under the stars. Or we can go sky-diving, and I'll propose to you at ten thousand feet."
"I'll go up in a plane with you, but I am not jumping out of it!"
"Fair enough. Bad idea," I laughed. "However I do it, I want it to be perfect."
"I know, Henry."
"Not on the day I fire you or in the room where we first kissed."
She squeezed my leg. "I understand the sentimentality you were going for and I appreciate it."
"Thank you, but you're right. It was a terrible idea. Can you forgive this colossal misstep, my love?"
"Consider it forgotten. And Henry—?"
"Yes?"
"We'll have our family. One way or another. You will be a father to several wonderful children," she said.
"Several?" I feigned an exasperated breath.
"At least two. A boy and a girl. Maybe three, if we can handle it."
"Oh, and what's the third one? Another boy?"
"We'll see... But probably another girl. Just saying!"
"I'll take whatever I can get."
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yandere-society · 5 years ago
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Roses | M
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Sypnosis: You grew up dirt poor in the shadows of society, barely managing to survive without parents or family and very little money. Somehow through multiple part-times and endless overtimes, you land a job at the most profitable company in your country: the Jeon estate. Now you work for the young head of the estate, Asia’s most powerful man, Jeon Jungkook, as an assistant. One day, as you are preparing for the Grand Valentine ball which Jungkook has formally set up for his and his fiance’s anniversary, you realize two things; Jeon Jungkook and the rich like him will always live above people like you and two, Jungkook really loves his fiance. Or…is it really her he loves?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader
Word Count: 5,350
Admin: @roses-ruby​​
Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist
Warnings: yandere themes, blood, death, murder, mentions of smut, mentions of sexual harassment, evil plans, letter openers; those knife looking kinds 
You had always been jealous.
“I’ve been thinking about her a lot these days…”
The morning air wraps around your frame with frigid clarity. You had to breathe once, then twice to be able to concentrate on the intense eyes before you.
“Your fiancé, sir?”
With a sober gaze, you focus on the handsome yet stoic man sitting in front of you. His stare was vacant but captured your whole torso in a viper like grip.
“About what to get her.” He speaks in the same dull tone as before.
“…Maybe roses?”
Women like roses, right?
He tilts his head at you, as if he was signaling you about how thoroughly he was contemplating your answer. The action raised goosebumps along your upper arm until they met with the cold polyester sleeves of your dress shirt. There was such beauty even in his most simple movements, but truthfully there was nothing quite simple about the raven-haired man that eyed you with such an unreadable expression. Even though you reacted in such a way, you refused to let him see you fazed. To invite him to sink his teeth below the upper casing like he so desperately wanted.
Not yet.
With a sigh that yelled defeat, he leaned back in his chair. Mumbling to himself.
“Roses it is.”
And just like that, he dismissed you. Looking off into the distance on the left, where a large window displaying the huge metropolis laid bare. You wonder how it must feel – the raw power of staring out that window, knowing that every inch of the land could be yours within seconds. All he had to do was say the word. How would it ever be like to wake up every day wearing uncountable riches and diamonds and dynasties upon your thick skin? Either to mold or to destroy.
How does it feel to hold the fragile earth within your fist?
Perhaps you were curious because you’ve never had that luxury. Left behind to rot by that very earth itself, you’ve never had any luxuries. For you were just a simple, everyday peasant unlike the heir to the Jeon throne himself. The differences between you both were similar to that of the sun and moon. He sat on a throne you could only watch upon, forced to stand up on your impoverished legs for the rest of your life until they were to cave when you were to finally die.
Only the red are privileged to sit.
Your pace is nimble, but you manage to make it back to your desk outside his office. With a sigh, you plop down onto your rolly chair. The cushions mold into your stiffened back and your muscles relax against the plush. In the back of your mind, behind your closed eyes, you picture someone pressuring each side of your heart. Being the cause of the faint ache you felt inside your chest.
But you don’t get to rest for long, as a loud bang enters your office hallway. Startled, you sit up – and as soon as you do, the chalky screeching surrounds your ears.
“My God, some people are insufferable! I mean how hard is it to clean a dress? A monkey with a sponge could do it! Accident they say, those lazy rats. Really – and today of all days as well. This is sabotage! I will have them regret the day they tried to cross me-”
You watch with wide eyes as the lady in red hair clacks around in her maroon heels. She was seething with anger, cheeks rosy and steam coming out of her ears. But even through her fury she remained the epitome of beauty, her doll like features heightened by her puerile attitude. All you could do was gape at her as the pounding in your brain grew from her each word. With one final stomp, she stops, right in front of your desk. Her body was facing your boss’ door as she glared into the distance quietly before whirling her head at you. Eyes squinted with menace making you jump in your seat.
If looks could kill.
“What are you looking at, pig?” She snarls
Before you could answer her, the door opens. He comes out with his hands in his pocket, heartless as usual. But his eyebrows were furrowed, and you could sense the annoyance in his stance.
“What’s with all the commotion?”
“DARLING!” It was as if all her animosity had vanished in that instant. She leaped over at Jungkook, arms flailing and eyes sparkling. Your lips twitched subtly at her shrill scream.
Wrapping her long arms around him, she practically moans into his neck. Her red lip gloss smearing over his soft skin. He places his hands on her hips to hold her – and himself – steady. They look so perfect together – a sight to behold. Yet something threatens to crawl out your throat the more you watch them.
“Darling, it was awful! The Chang’s, darling – they ruined my expensive, custom made ruby iridescent Prada evening gown! They ruined it, darling!” She loudly wails into his shoulder.
Jungkook listens to her cry, before sighing. You couldn’t read him completely, it felt like he was looking at a young child throwing a tantrum. A precious child. “Why would you even use an industrial dry cleaner when you have professionals at home babe? What did they do to it?”
She backs away from him, looking into his eyes like a hurt puppy.
“T…They tore a piece from the bottom…from the wash they say… Miuccia designed it for me herself Kookie…y-you can’t let them get away with this.”
Jungkook stares into her glossy orbs for a bit, before he glances at you. His gaze makes you jerk, facing elsewhere in a heartbeat. It felt like you were interrupting them, your cheeks burn with shame. Your heart even more until you heard him huff.
“Alright, I’ll contact Min. He’ll be able to handle it.”
“Oh darling, I love you so much.” She screeches, hugging him once again.
Min. That was the family lawyer. A cut-throat man who managed to make powerful billionaires beg for their livelihood on Jungkook’s feet. One small-time laundro mat was a speck of dust compared to them. Your chest ache grew as you clenched your fists beneath the desk. The poor Chang’s had just managed to put their oldest into college, they had no savings left. They were barely handling 3 more kids and multiple elders to nurture, 9 people in total in one small apartment. Something like a lawsuit was bound to put them out on the streets. But now that they had crossed paths with Jeon’s beloved fiancé, how horrible their fate was bound to be.
There were thorns in your throat.
“Darling, I just wish tomorrow will be perfect.”
Her tone always contained a particular weight that captures your attention back to her. Jungkook was still looking at you, his stare heavy, holding down your shoulders. You felt the red explode inside your pupils as she wrapped herself around him before kissing him.
“Don’t worry, it will be. I promise.”
They start to make out, unabashed. But what shame would a rich person ever have? The cold morning air surrounds you again, as you steady your breaths, and try to get back to work. Manage to yet again contain your jealousy.
Sadly, you end up missing the intense eyes that were still on your figure, gripping tightly and never moving off once.
-
Valentine’s day. A time of small importance to you.
Is what you say as you eye the crimson curtains and scarlet carpet. The chandelier had a red tinge in its shards, lighting up the vast room in an almost bizarre way. A ballroom fit for the never early King and Queen. You stare at the monotone waitpersons cavorting about, carrying colored shots and expensive sweets in their trays. Your eyebrow perks up as your gaze lands on one of them being subtly touched by an older gentleman. His aged wrinkles in his drunk, lustful gaze versus her frightened young orbs and doe posture. It reminds you of your past. In all those cheap diners and broken eateries, being groped and disregarded all at the same time. In those days as well, Valentine’s day meant nothing to you.
Turning back to the long table before you, you pop another chocolate covered strawberry into your mouth. At that moment you hear soft laughter, making you look toward the left end of the table. There stood your coworker, Jimin, in his pink tux and blonde hair. He was talking to another coworker. You turn your eyes away once he catches your gaze.
And coincidentally, they end up meeting with the man you’ve been avoiding all night. On the other side of the table, stood Jungkook. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Jungkook in his infrared suit. A blend of garnet and carmine and sanguine. Gelled hair, bright skin, dark glare. Such marbled precision. He was staring at you then too, when Jimin came to flirt with you a while ago. As well as when Taehyung tried his luck.
And oh, if looks could kill.
Your little moment is interrupted when another man in red walks up to him, starting a conversation. His red wasn’t as strong as Jungkook’s, you noticed. Actually, you’re sure Jungkook probably held the strongest red in the world, just like her. They were born with it after all. You, on the other hand, worked your whole life through the mud pit to be able to bear pink upon your frame. A few of your coworkers wore pink too, some of their attires barely blushing, while the ones worth more wore fuscia. The waitpersons wore white and that forced you back in time the most… the time you could only wear white like it was a scar engraved into your skin.
Maybe you should make peace with the fact that a day like today wasn’t something for people like you to enjoy. That even if some people still view you as nothing but a body to fulfill their desires, you now have a face to go along with it unlike the servants around you. Maybe you should be thankful you are more blessed than the help. And the helpless. Even if you desired a lot more. It’s always been like that hasn’t it. A few speeches of wisdom draped upon the less fortunate public.
“Be grateful for what you have.”
Startled by the voice, your head whips back, where the lady in glimmering red stood. It was her, the one who had arrived with him, hand in hand, half an hour late. Yet she had instantly been the main attraction at the ball, people swarming towards her like hungry bees. Her gown was the color of a rose’s center – the strapless dress, lingering the ground like a mermaid’s legs, hugging her slender figure so delicately – it was the epitome of perfection. Your pink sun dress fell short in comparison. The impenetrable beauty was addicting, attracting even the shyest of insects into her clutches. For a second you got high on her scent alone, before the malicious tone of her words settled into your brain.
Why was she here? A minute ago, she was stuck to Jungkook’s side like she was glued together with his larger frame. Perhaps she gave him some space to breathe for once, but that still doesn’t explain why she came up to you out of all the bugs about. Seething in her perfect set of teeth, she glares a hole through you, making you unnerved. Even with ill intentions written in her eyes, she presented a beautiful, kind smile on her cherry lips.
“You’re probably happy knowing that you’re the only secretary Jungkook hasn’t fired within a week. You’re probably thrilled to have someone like Jungkook promote someone like you to the department head. You probably get off every time he calls your filthy name.” She breathes into your face; her breath was cold and pupils sharp. “You might think you have him wrapped around your finger and I’m not sure you know who you are, but since your poor education has failed you so greatly, I’m here to remind you.”
She steps closer into your space, as a way to intimidate you. “You’re a mutt he’s taking pity on and nothing more, you understand me? A pig shouldn’t get so happy being fed the scraps of a stallion. You mean nothing to him and as soon as he’s fucked you senseless, he’ll forget about you like every other girl that has tried to take my place.”
Her smile never faltered. If anyone was watching this interaction, they’d think she was having a pleasant discussion with you. That the reason you were shying away from her was because you could not handle her radiant glow and pouring compassion. And in the same second the gears in your mind started turning, searching for a possible response, she took a step back.
“Don’t try to get too close to him. Don’t smile so much when he looks your way. Don’t let your pathetic feelings cross the line. Stay in your lane and be grateful for what you have. Because trust me, I can make everything disappear.” With a nod, she brushes past you. 
Gone, just like that. 
The spot that once held her being is forgotten, your head turning to watch her leave. A few butterflies fly up to her, each one wearing a thousand more on their figures and necks, but nothing that could be compared to her red.
It felt as if she never threatened you. As if she wasn’t the villain you just witnessed but a sweet cerise princess. You watch the girls gush about her life; about how luxurious her dress, her hair, her nails, her jewels, and the Grande Valentine ball was. About how blessed she is to have loving wealthy fiancé like Jungkook. She laughs agreeing with them while exhaling the same breath she took pretending to be humble.
Soon you were blending into the background. As usual.
Finally able to pry your eyes away, you stare at the ground, feeling the ache in your chest slowly cover your vision. It felt like the green, bitter thorns from a Rose’s stem, pressing against your heart with brutal force. You already felt like an outsider as soon as you stepped in here, but this was the final straw. The thorns grew amongst your chest, you spent hours finalizing every single thing about tonight on Jungkook’s command. All for his precious fiancé, choosing the colors out of your personal reach and decorations and the drinks and the food. And yet you feel like you just showed up uninvited to a stranger’s house. Knowing nothing here was meant for you.
Parting your lips, you begin walking towards the exit, ready to crawl back into your mouse cave where the lights weren’t so exposing.
You trudged along the exit hall, feeling the cheap heels of your shoes leaves sores against your soles. The ball was only an hour in, and you were fleeing way before midnight. It shouldn’t matter however; it was best to remember that Valentine’s day and its activities hold no meaning to you. Foggy thoughts run throughout your head as you watch the gleaming floor.
When you were almost at the door, a shadow overcasting the tiles and resembling a person makes you halt. Your head tilts up to catch the man in the elegantly fitted red suit, staring back at you with those familiar eyes.
“Leaving already?”
-
You aren’t sure how you ended up here.
All you remember was him telling you to follow along and you obeying his command silently. He led you out of the banquet hall, into his rumbling sports car and then straight inside his mansion. Jungkook never uttered a word, but his essence – his aura…it spoke for him. You walked behind him placidly, like the prey of a snake slowing moving inside the predator’s seams. When he walks into a room, the walls light up immediately at his presence. They glow of a lavish chamber leaves you jolting in place as he carelessly strides to his open bar.
How was this any different from where you just came from? If they wanted, they could have just held the ball here.
You watch as he grabs a bottle from the shelf, turning around and placing it on the counter as he picks up a glass.
“Would you like a drink?”
You immediately shake your head in decline. He shrugs, pouring himself a good amount of dark liquor. As you stand still, watching him take a sip, confusion finally settles in from the whole ordeal. Why would he bring you here? Your ignorance made you feel like scum on the back of his expensive shoes.
She probably always felt at home here.
Jealousy was a suffocating feeling and to deal with the pressure, you look away. Try to think about something else other than his ethereal face. On a small, decorative table to the left of you was a stubby golden vase, filled to the brim with roses. The vibrant flowers capture your orbs closely, like you were being lulled in by their appearance alone. You take small steps up to the table, your heart beating in your ears. When you were close enough you could see the thorns decorating the stems.
The thorns that hindered the beauty of the red.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you pick up a knife – possibly a letter opener from underneath the vase. You carefully take a stem into your hand, pinching it beneath your fingers. With a quick breath, you slice away a thorn, then two. Ridding the plants of its spikes and ugliness in animosity. Making it perfect with each removal.
Your haste movements froze when a hand grabbed yours. You look up to see Jungkook, holding onto you while staring at you with an unreadable expression.
“What are you doing? I thought you liked roses?”
That’s what you wanted to ask him, what was he doing? Why did he bring you here? But it’s not like the rich were born to be questioned. As you hold his gaze with anger, but bite your tongue from speaking, he sighs. Taking the knife out of your hands and placing it back on the table. He replaces the object with his fingers and your whole body heats up from the rush of your hands.
His scent was heavenly. Like a thousand roses laid amongst a field.
“You…at the ball…you seemed off.” He says, capturing your attention with the same incomprehensible face he always has on. “There were so many bugs flying around you there…I needed to take my chance.”
“…What?”
You watch closely as Jungkook tongues his cheek.
“You’re always so…closed off. Like there’s nothing on your mind…like you couldn’t care less about anything. I always…notice.” He huffs, looking at the floor in concentration. “I remember, it was your third day. I was passing by on my way for an early brunch with a buddy. And I saw the support manager fall onto a wet floor. The way she screamed…I and everyone around us rushed to her. Through the commotion and her cries and everyone making sure she was okay…I spotted you sitting at a desk 10 feet away. I saw you…and you didn’t do anything, even though she was in obvious pain… you just gave her a glance and then went back to work. She ended up breaking her arm and suing the company, so I got rid of her but none of that mattered.”
He looks back up at you. “What mattered was you…you caught my eye. Your lack of interest in everyone, your empty eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
It goes quiet for a moment and you now know how haunting the silence is in a big space like this. That and Jungkook’s presence made the atmosphere surreal.
“Would it have made a difference?” You question. His eyebrows raise at your response. “I mean…if I had cared…would her pain have disappeared?”
Jungkook gazes deeply into your eyes, like he was trying to read you. The hand that held you shifted slightly and you tried to not let the movements affect you. It was then that he broke out into a smirk, he seemed intrigued.
“I guess not.”
“No, it wouldn’t have. The one place there is no worth – no red – is in compassion.”
He chuckles. “I suppose with my status and what my family’s taught me…I’m inclined to disagree. But I can’t help…like this…like you.”
It was your turn to raise your eyebrows as he looks away, turning crimson. “I can’t explain why…so don’t ask me. I’ve been involved with plenty of other women…but it was always carnal pleasure. My fiancé always made sure they didn’t last long anyway but it doesn’t matter…they bore me. Yet…I don’t know what it is about you that calls to me. To keep you close to me.” He turns back to you with a determined face. “I want you and I want to get rid of anything in my way that keeps me from you.”
It felt like time stopped. The lull reverberated off the walls with intensity. There was a strange new sensation in your chest the more you stared at his sharp features. He was born with the beauty of red. When you finally felt like you could breathe again, you took your hand out of his. For a split second, you felt his whole physique embody a pout before you lightly placed your finger on his shoulder.
He froze under your touch. You continued to lightly rub at the fabric of his red coat, before placing your other hand on his other shoulder. Jungkook couldn’t look away. Especially not when you moved closer to him, not when he could feel your soft breath hit his face.
“Is this…close enough?” You whisper, watching the way his bright eyes turned dark. Within moments you felt a sudden source of heat around your waist, before you were pushed into his sturdy chest. His heartbeat matched your rhythm and your lips hovered one another as your orbs fought for balance. There was a cocoon of warmth around you, traveling up your spine as his thumb brushed your waist.
“It’s perfect.” He says before you feel his naturally red lips touch your coral ones.
It had been a while since your last kiss. That would explain why your tongue felt so sensitive and weak against his. Your hands hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady and at that moment, you recall how this very scene happened before you just yesterday, with his hand on her hips. You recall the jealousy. Bitter thoughts don’t ever completely vanish, do they?
As he bites your bottom lip, you fail to conceal a moan. He smiles into your kiss, before breaking away. Your lips were raw, and although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew they were swollen red. So you begin to smile as well.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says before kissing your cheek, down your jaw and into your neck. “All mine.”
You hold onto the back of his head as he nips at your neck. Gazing at the roses behind him.
“And you, mine.”
-
You woke up to the dark.
It didn’t take you long to figure out you weren’t in your house. The smell…the atmosphere…the scenery…it was all different. Not the familiar color you were used to. Your ear catches the sound of soft snoring, so you turn to see Jungkook sleeping peacefully by your side. His dark bangs covered most of his eyes and you slowly raised your fingers to move his hair out of his face. He seemed so different when he was asleep compared to his cold office demeanor. So calm and innocent – almost like a child.
In that second, your throat feels dry, so you try to sit up. Maybe you’ll have that drink he spoke of now. But a heavy arm thrown across your body stops you. You peek underneath the blanket to find Jungkook’s biceps holding onto you tightly. He was definitely the possessive type. With a quick inhale, you subtly try to remove his big arm off of you. Freezing whenever he faintly stirred. When you’ve managed to become free, you get out of bed, wincing as soon as you get up.
Even without the light, you could tell how damaged you were as you limp towards the door. He didn’t hold back in bed, wanting you to show him every expression of pleasure – of pain you were capable of. Him and only him, he said. There were bite marks on your neck and ass…he loved using his mouth. And then there was his endless fucking stamina. But truthfully you didn’t mind it one bit, it felt like he was pouring his deep rich wine upon you. You felt yourself inflaming up from the inside out, it was a feeling like no other – addicting.
Actually, you’ve always known about his interest in you. He had managed to make his face unreadable because of the position and line of work he’s in. But he’s still always slipped around you. You saw the subtle yearning and longing way before you came up with this plan. A plan that was necessary, you had never been this lucky before after all. And you wonder if she saw it too. If she knew you weren’t like Jungkook’s others. Perhaps that’s why she came up to you tonight. To try and stop you.
But mere warnings don’t work on the desperate.
As soon as you’re in the other room, the living room lights flash on. Prompting you to squint, while trying to adjust to the brightness. Once again, your attention is immediately captured by the vivid red roses in the golden vase on the small table across the room. You begin walking towards the vase mindlessly but once you were a couple feet in, you notice another shade of red to your left.
A glittering red.
You turn to face her, the princess of the kingdom, in her soon to be king’s castle. Naked and sullied in retrospect to her lavishly covered frame. But strangely, compared to you in this moment she was weak. 
It was her face. Her face as she glares at you, eyes squinted, and lips pulled back. Mascara and tears ran down all over her cheeks and her eyes were puffy swollen. She stood there, shaking in her heels as her hands clenched into fists. How could she look so pathetic dressed in red of all things? There was something funny about the sight…it almost made you burst into laughter. Instead you pursed you lips and raised a brow.
Right then she launched herself at you.
“You BITCH!” She screamed at the top of her lungs before you felt her sharp nails collide with your cheek. Your ears rung as you try to regain your balance. You didn’t have time to react as she pulled your face up using your hair and smacked you twice before pushing you down. Already frail torso crashing upon the tiles a bit too easily.
Really, you felt like laughing as you laid there while she screamed and pounded her weak fists onto you. You couldn’t feel the pain, nothing at all, not even when she banged your head against the tile. Not when she kicked you in the gut. So you laughed, and you felt her go quiet for a second. Small giggles turning into something insane. Your laugh got louder and louder as your cheek connected with the cold floor. The ringing surrounded your ears, but you still heard her curse underneath her breath, calling you crazy. You’ve always hated her voice.
“DIIIIEEEEE! DIE YOU CRAZY BITCH! HE’S MINE!” You could hear her tight dress starting to rip with every sudden jerk and twist. It was ironic. Your head felt light and your vision started to blur as she pulled at your stands frantically. Suddenly, you were being pulled up onto your legs with the world spinning around you and thrown right into the small table you couldn’t stop being called towards.
On impact, one of the legs gave out, causing you and the vase to slip onto the ground. You were completely out of it for a few seconds. After a blurry moment, you could finally feel the wet water and the broken wood and the shattered glass and the cold metal scraping against your skin as you struggled to get up. That…and the green thorns stuck inside your chest, bleeding raw.
Once you were up, you struggle to maintain your steadiness. As your slippery feet came to a halt, you stare down at your wounded chest. At the thorns in your heart, before you hear her shrill voice coming towards you again. So, you timed it in your head. Waited for the bottom ruffles of her beautiful dress to slide along the tiles and signal you. Let her red give her away.
And once she was close enough, you spun around. Extended your hand until you could tell the blade collided through something hard yet pudgy. Everything comes to a standstill. You hear her inhale loudly before her face actually appears before you. Eyes wide and mouth parted. Her hands were still in midair, they were coming for your neck. Her shaky pupils gape at you, before looking down below where the knife met her.
When she’s distracted, you take out the letter opener from her stomach before slamming it back into her once again, a little left. It made a soft, stubby sound and she gasped faintly. Your hands shook dimly with the blade still inside her, blood staining your fingers. The ringing had vanished now, and you were facing the silence of the mansion. Now that you had gotten the gist of it, as quick as you could, you stabbed her a third time. It was your final attack because as soon as you took the edge out, she fell backwards with a loud thud. You didn’t have time to process everything, just cringed at the way her head collided with the floor.
For a while, you just stood there. Weapon in hand, watching the way the blood slowly oozed out of her sides. Her eyes were wide open in shock, lips parted, and jaw unhinged. Bringing the blade up to your face, you closely examine the loose blood along the edges as the knife gleamed underneath the lights. Red was truly a magnificent color. If you were to split her open, would she bleed it all out before you? Let you have all her secrets and riches? You take the blade and carefully wipe both sides of the blood onto your chest, over your heart. Making a perfect x and letting yourself become red.
Like you’ve always wanted.
Once you were done with that, you look back at her. At her lifeless face and sunken eyes.
“What are you looking at, pig?”
Just then a hand grabs yours from behind. You dropped the letter opener in surprise, and it crashes onto the floor with everything else. The object is replaced by long fingers. Your head whips back to meet a bare Jungkook standing right behind you, as handsome as ever, staring at you with a smile. There was a little insanity in his eyes, the same one you saw every morning in the mirror.
“I was wondering how to get rid of her myself.” He says, before wrapping his arms around your shivering torso and placing his mouth on your neck.
It had only been a few hours after Valentine’s day, and here you stood. Being gently rocked by your boss, with his beautiful fiancé bleeding out on the floor in front of him. Even in death…she was the epitome of beauty. And you had always been jealous.
Not of who she was to Jungkook.
But because of the vibrant, glowing, bleeding red rose she always resembled.
What you were jealous of was the rose she embodied.
The rose you wanted to be.
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gammacousin · 3 years ago
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Okay. I’m ready to real talk Black Widow. I don’t want to but as an activist there’s an obligation I have to share and educate. I nerd to forget but I suppose it shows the power of this movie if it brings something real into the light.
*Spoiler Warning. Trigger warning for everything.*
There are some things I want to say that could potentially spoil aspect of the Black Widow film. I also would advise you to skip this post if you have a darker past, if you aren’t interested in getting serious, or wish to skim by, I’m sincerely not judging! I come on here to avoid the universe as well. You do you, I totally still love you if you don’t read this and want to move onto something nerdy or more fun. This isn’t the post for you.
It’s taken me a while to process and organize my thoughts. Skip if you don’t want to hear deep, raw stories.
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Okay. Nerd review first.
The level of girl power and any and all glass ceilings… There is SO much left to do. So much that needs to still be addressed. But seeing 3 women run this show: Yelena, Natasha, and Melina was an absolute joy to observe. This isn’t the end of some hard waged war, it’s the beginning and I beg you; Disney/Marvel. Please give us more of this? It’s so important for young girls to see other girls kicking butt and winning. Quick summary of nerd feelings; Losing Nat still burns. Yelena is a boss.
Okay…Real talk.
I have to get a little deeper here now. My personal story absolutely played into how I felt about this film and I wish I saw some trigger warnings about the material covered. Do I know Black Window’s story? Yes. In and out. I can read it, I can write my FF on it. However. Little to no one knows my story and so absolutely no one is to blame for not warning me. I was not expecting to come out this shook.
I’m sharing this because it’s happening now, today. In the real world. I doubt the film makers had this mind over other social issues, but after feeling like it’s irrelevant, that my pain is somehow less than, I’m realizing through my activism it’s not.
I grew up in a cult where women are not relevant. You matter up to a point. You are useful, to a point. If you’re giving 24/7, you’re not giving enough. If you’re not smiling as you’re doing cult stuff, you’re complacent. In addition to why I’m about to share, my house growing up was not a safe space which is a story for another time. So it’s a stack…this janga-ish game that eventually just comes crashing down.
My trigger started moments after the film started the handing over of the kids. When Alexei chooses the job over the welfare of the girls. Alexei put his two “daughters” in danger to save ‘face’. To put the job ahead of two children…it hit home. In the group I’m from, fathers, mothers, grandparents, siblings will absolutely choose the group over blood. You are nothing and you mean nothing if you ‘defect’. If you break a rule. If you complain. If you say ‘no’. If you put in a bad review for a leader, if you have anything bad at all to say about the organization as a whole. You can confide something deep in someone you trust and it absolutely will come back to hurt you.
The title song shook me completely. This collage of video and images of brainwashing, treating these girls like absolute objects is disgusting in itself. But when you’re raised in this other world, there’s a level of brainwashing that is absolutely unmatched. Videos, books, quizzes, 12 hour lectures, weekly meetings.
People are unified to the point where you lose your own identity. There’s a language- a literally language- words you start to misuse. Verbiage only people in the cult use. Kids of any age will watch any rated film. Frequently the themes are about obedience and or cooperation and the consequences if you do not cooperate/obey. Death is a such a common theme that either you become petrified of your own shadow, petrified of breathing wrong, or turn completely numb. In sharing these videos, the goal is to instill this fear that you will never be enough. That you will die- turn into a charred hot dog of a figure if you do not obey 8 white men - the leaders, in New York. That your friends, classmates, neighbors, family will die if they don’t believe what you do. That you’re held accountable if you can’t bring them to your side.
The song for the credits hit me. I cannot listen to it. I have no idea what it was about.
When I watched the film, I couldn’t focus at this point at gosh barely 15 minutes in. I had already checked out. I heard keywords. “Entertainers,” “I feel stupid and contagious…”
In my world, I did not matter. What mattered was, what was presented to the public. To your group. Meeting some checklist of this perfect family at any cost. You’re not an individual, you’re a number. Literally. Your records are documented by men in the back room- your actions, your track record. But ultimately? You’re part of a numeral equation reported to headquarters. And if you’re a woman, you do not have a say in how you look, dress, act or in what you say. You are as the title song says, …“Entertainers”. You smile. You do your job, and you are ‘happy’ about it. Your job is to dedicate x amount of hours cleaning the room you gather in, and in recruitment of other members…
There’s a ‘job’ in the cult called a “pioneer”. Okay. No, we might not have been trained assassins. But you are trained to manipulate emotionally. To prey on the weak. You get books, magazines, movies, speeches, lectures- you rarely get a free Saturday. Oh and the job isn’t paid. So make sure you’re working (part time because full time secular work isn’t acceptable) at a desk job (because college and getting an education is not allowed). Don’t make friends with the people who work with you, they’re out to get you. Back at the club; You answer questions like it’s some schoolastic quiz every week and quote what your reading. It’s a brainwashing tactic. If you say something enough times, you remember it. You start to believe it. You spend hours reading these things, training… Your job is to target people who have lost- and have lost a lot because they’re vulnerable. You learn to go to cemeteries, and literally stalk people who are grieving. Like Val. If you can catch someone when they’re weak, senses are dulled. They’re desperate. And you bait them with this false promise. This idea that all THEY have to do is change all that they are, join you, and they’ll see their dead loved ones again. That they are doomed if they don’t change. Most pioneers draft 2-4 people per lifetime. If you’re a great saleswoman, you can draft more into this horrific world. And I regret the hours I spent lying, torturing people. For some cult that doesn’t give two cents about me.
I 100% believed of I didn’t convince my classmates, neighbors, to join my side they would either turn me in or they would be killed by a divine being. From 2 years old I was supposedly handing out pamphlets. The doom is not a quick painless death, no. You have visuals. You have men getting up to talk in detail about what your ‘friends’ will look like as corpses. Visually descriptive to the point where I still feel a bit numb to it all. That you will have to bury their bodies after the whole divine destruction. That you will have to “clean up” the earth. You are numb- convinced- bullied to the point where you believe this is true.
If you’re hurt as MANY WOMEN AND CHILDREN ARE, and you don’t have two people to testify and say they saw it- it never happened. Abuse is the norm. And if you speak up about it? You’re called a liar. Your friends cut you off. They think you’ll die along with everyone else if you put in a ‘bad review’ or leave. You’re bullied into submission and taught from a young age that you are not in control of your own decisions. You relinquish yourself under the pretense that the men you have such reverence toward are under some divine being’s control.
Your parents hurting you is acceptable. And don’t you dare speak against your father if he’s deeply involved. Don’t even think about approaching if he’s on a phone call. If you’re hit you take it- because you “deserved” it. And you smile. You shove that pain deep down. You hide the bruise, the cut lip, the depression, the bottles of pills you’re swallowing the whatever….You’re screwed if you faint, throw up, pass out, because you’ve missed a meeting. You better be dying for that to happen…
The idea that is portrayed in the movie (IMO) is that you can forgive family who hurts you. I see people forgiving Alexei and what’s her name. Look- that’s great. It’s a fun film. Alexei is funny. Here’s what I saw; it’s a toxic man- nay- father who can’t accept responsibility. He takes pride in what the girls have become- monsters. Not in who they are at their core. He has no idea who they are. And the mom has this photo album…I’m tearing up. She remembers this a certain way, a wishful thought. I’ve confronted my own mother about our past and had an album thrown at me, “We were happy. You were happy.” The fact is I was told the smile. You’re forcing this perception that everything was normal. That it’s okay to go back. (I’m not taking away Yelena’s view that everything was real to her, that’s fine for the sake of the story, and sweet. The moment between her and Alexei..fine. Milena turns and takes their side at the end, great.) The problem with how I saw this, is that’s not how the real world works. I don’t owe my parents forgiveness when I didn’t mean shit to them. When people leave the cult they’re cut off. Treated like they’re dead. I didn’t find these moments cute, I found them horrific. Hugging me, saying he’s proud of me is the toxic sh** my father would pull. Ignoring the holes in the wall, in my skull, the phony impression he gives to the rest of the group. Hugging me…after sweeping everything he did not only to me, but countless others under the rug because the cult…because 8 men in NY will protect him. Legally. Or otherwise.
I don’t need to forgive my parents. If you’ve been mistreated, you don’t owe anyone anything. They can “try” to do the right thing, that doesn’t somehow block out years of mistreatment. Years of trauma. Sheetrock only patches the surface of the broken walls. Wounds heal but some scars stay with you forever. Metaphorically or otherwise.
‘Entertainers’ was a trigger word because if you’re high enough in the ranking system you’re asked to “testify” or share a story. It’s in front of a couple thousand. It’s an “honor”. What it really is, is a three ring circus. You will only see women on the sidelines reading from the cards while only men stand at the main podium. They’re reading what they have told them to say. Stories are manipulated, cut, changed to fit a narrative that better suits the group of a couple thousand members.
Dreykov. I hate this. But I have to go there. I’m neck deep already, might as well. I think the worst part of all of it is that you can’t touch the person who made you this way. Those 6-7-8 leaders are untouchable. It doesn’t matter what you try. What legal entities, ex groups have tried. There’s a term for us and we are considered ‘mentally diseased.’ Members are told to avoid us. And in case you were curious, no, they can’t just break their nose on a table to be free- if only it were that simple. Gosh that got me. I would cut a limb, split my skull open, if it meant I could just cut a chord. It takes years of therapy and I still have nightmares. Urges to just, go. I’m OKAY. But most escapees are not. If you manage to escape with your life and don’t end it because the pressure, guilt, abuse that comes with leaving is too much. (This is sadly the fate of MANY LBGTQ+ members.)
The only hope is either the group eventually runs out of money or they’re taken down legally. Both of which are impossible since many older members will leave all they have to the group rather than to their family. It’s a complex billion dollar publishing company that plays monopoly with people’s investments, homes, and lives.
If you speak up, you’re the liar. So you cannot free your friends, who have turned on you, already cut you off, and discarded you the day you walked out and didn’t come back.
Watching Natasha, and Yelena free their sisters made me think of every woman who is stuck in this cult. For every woman, child, currently being sexually/physically abused and can’t say sh** because they literally believe god will kill them. If I say anything to them, they block me. If I expose what’s happening they will lie in court. That’s what is happening. And it’s not in the news, it’s not talked about. Because you can’t. You’re forced into silence. There’s a block. A literal legal force field that you cannot penetrate. They have their own lawyers. You can’t break into it. You’ll lose every, single, legal battle you try to fight.
Was this a decent movie? Yes. Was I expecting to share this days after release, no. I’ve been forced into silence for so long, told that people have it far worse and that I shouldn’t talk about it. But just today I saw a grown ass couple in an escapee group, talking about how one trigger word sent them into a depressive spiral. Wondering if some god damn lightening will come out of the sky and knock them dead. And we frickin struggle in silence. People will just shrug and go “oh it can’t be that bad,” while my gay best friend can’t catch an effing break. While someone else suffers at home because god wants it that way. Someone else will bury their kid today, maybe not even hold a funeral for them if they were ‘mentally diseased.’
For people like that couple I met today, like me, if you don’t just see a fun film but a darker past or maybe it’s brought up some memories for you, I’d honestly love to chat!!! Message me! I feel like for as painful as this is to hash out not too many people know about what goes on behind a group of smiling, well dressed woman who come knocking on your door. “It’s just a religion.”
I guess I didn’t realize…the criminal aspect of what happened to me. You’re so ingrained to keep quiet. To smile. To ignore, to suppress. I can smile, joke laugh, but visualizing…inadvertently seeing this mirror was so unbelievably uncomfortable. I would always rather help someone else because it takes me out of my head. Live in a bubble where I can call my trauma a ‘fantasy’. What’s real is when someone like me has a bad day? Lol! Look, my husband literally checks his phone to make sure a conversation never touches a couple hundred trigger words that will absolutely send me into the closet with a gallon of ice cream or a bottle of whiskey. I can’t imagine what someone else, what some other traumatized individual goes through. (Maybe that’s why the Bucky stuff makes me all angry She-Hulk too..)
Look, talking people ex members of this group, out of suicide is a daily endeavor to the point where it’s borderline on autopilot. But having this, I suppose, brilliant, piece of cinema turn the camera around left me raw and writhing and angry. Not for me, but for everyone else still stuck. With every year you spend in that cult, add ten more to therapy.
If you feel like me at all, you’re not alone. Not anymore. We were raised to feel alone in the world. That the universe is somehow out to get us and that’s simply not true. You don’t need the people who raised you if they were absolute shit bags. And you DO NOT have to forgive them for keeping you in that environment. Family isn’t family if they’ve hurt you. You owe them nothing. It is healthy to feel your feelings (and you and your feelings are valid. )
Anyways! I hope to be able to talk about more fun Marvel topics soon. But this felt important so thanks for listening. I’m really not hating guys, this is just…it’s heavy. And I beg you to do your research into cults and to help out where you can.
Love and light,
-M
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imgoingtocrash · 4 years ago
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Made of Iron, Born of Fire: The Fanmix 
by @imgoingtocrash
Listen on Spotify and 8tracks
Read the series on Ao3
AKA: A labor of love for @savvysass’s birthday!!!!
What can I say that hasn’t already been said because we’re both incredibly sappy people in our Author’s Notes? Writing this series with you has brought me so much joy in the last two years, and I never could have hit over 100k words without you. Here’s to whatever we write next in the series...and all of the WIPs we’re working on right now...and only god knows what’s next for us personally and professionally...and most importantly, to you on your Birthday. Thank you for being such a good friend, in both fandom and outside of it. I’m so, so thankful to know you and love you. 🥰
Director’s Cut Below, because we all know I love talking about this series, and yes, that does extend to why I picked these songs. (And also maybe because these song choices only make sense in my brain and hopefully Savannah’s?? Who knows! Feel free to ask questions if you want but let’s be honest this series and fanmix are most importantly for us, because we love the series so dang much.)
My Wildest Dreams by Ron Pope
I spoke in riddles and in rhymes, but my time with you has taught me to simplify, you’re not quite what I pictured you would be, you’re better than my wildest dreams.
We’ve talked about this one before, and I’LL TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN!!!! Ron Pope is so good imo, and this song wowowow the father-child feels, but especially with Tony and newborn Peter a la A Foreign Feeling and A First Time For Everything.
Big & Scared by Raleigh Ritchie
I want to be better for you, let me do that now, you’re my favorite human, so you should be prepared, I’ll help you get through it, when you’re big and scared
We’ve mentioned Tony’s thoughts about legacy multiple times by now, and I think this song really represents Tony looking forward to the person Peter could be become and that “breaking the cycle” mentality of supporting Peter even when he’s not a perfect father.
Legacy of Sadness by Ron Pope
irrational as it may seem I guess I’m sorry, even though I know that none of it’s my fault, it is easier for me to count my blessings, than to cry for every single thing we’ve lost
I have 0 shame putting these two songs by Ron Pope almost back to back because they’re the opening and closing of an album dedicated to his child like...it’s so perfect for Tony and this theme of reflection on who he is and who Peter will become/is becoming and all that entails.
this is me trying by Taylor Swift
They told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential, and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that
I wrote something...very sad but also soft recently??? and this is for That it’s about pre-CW Pepperony being separated and the road to them trying to come back together including Tony working on himself and I love it!!! It hurts really good!!! This whole song is perfect for it and I can’t wait until people get to read it.
Be Good When I’m Gone by Four Year Strong
I'm sorry I can't stop to listen, but I've got so much to do and I've got some place to be, the house looks like the aftermath of a hurricane, I hope it stays that way
Tony being a busy parent but doing his best to make time for Peter in his life and making that time count has been something super important to illustrate to us, especially the transition from being a CEO to being a superhero and how that changes how Peter sees Tony’s absence over time.
I Won’t Back Down by Johnnyswim, Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors, and Penny and Sparrow
Tony puts on the original version by Tom Petty in Home Is Where The Heart Is, but I think this cover has a very slow, emotional undertone that’s really great too. The interludes, if you didn’t catch it, have all been featured in a fic previously.
Let It Matter by Johnnyswim
So if it matters let it matter, if your heart's breaking let it ache, catch those pieces as they scatter, know your hurt is not in vain
Pepper in Never Tell Me The Odds ALL DAYYYYY. She’s the emotional rock of that fic (and of our Ironfam TBH) and it’s all because she allows herself to feel her feelings and encourages the Stark boys to do so as well.
Simmer - Acoustic by Hayley Williams
And if my child, needed protection, from a fucker like that man, I’d sooner gut him, cause nothing cuts like a mother
Post-Home Is Where The Heart Is...y’all know Pepper’s not that mad about what happened to Obie. Also just Pepper when someone hurts her family?? I always write it as her sort of putting all of her emotion into something she can control and doing it well, so, this song is all about that.
Tightrope by Nia Hendricks
one step after another, keep holding on to each other, don’t look back, move on and let go, that’s how you walk on a tightrope
Pepperony trying to navigate their relationship and the insanity of superhero stuff and also co-parenting. It’s all excellent, I love them so much, I enjoy writing it so much!!!!
Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan
Never got the chance, to say a last goodbye, I gotta move on, but it hurts to try, how do I love, how do I love again?
This song is tilted towards romance, but if you’ll remember, we’re a Pro-Tony Survives Endgame AU series, so it’s not about THAT...but well...Infinity War sure will hit something fierce for certain non-romantic relationships in this series, huh?
The Bones by Maren Morris
Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I, can't even mess it up, although we both try, no, it don't always go the way we planned it, but the wolves came and went and we're still standing
Post-Endgame Ironfam!!! Tony and Pepper married with their kids, their family and HAPPY...THIS IS WHY WE DO ALL OF THE ANGST...FOR A FAMILY...WE LOVE THEM
Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas
Considered Pepper and Peter’s ‘song’, as it’s referenced multiple times in the series, and was one of the bigger solidifying moments of their mother-son relationship as a whole.
Mundane by Hardcastle
And I’ve been sinking into silence, dwelling on my thoughts, and in these months, I haven’t felt that most conversations have left me anything but blue
Peter’s selective mutism was something very special to us when we originally had the idea, and making sure we talk about it and utilize it in the right way is something we’re still working on, particularly with the Therapy Fic we’re brainstorming atm.
survivin’ (One Eyed Jack’s Session) by Bastille
What can I say? I'm survivin', crawling out these sheets to see another day, what can I say? I'm survivin', and I'm gonna be fine, I'm gonna be fine, I think I'll be fine
Spoiler Alert: Peter’s not fine, like, a decent amount of the time. But he’s sure trying, and we love him for that.
Jacob from the Bible by Jake Wesley Rogers
Mama, don't worry, it took me years, to say I'm sorry, to see your tears, Mama, forgive me, I grew up too fast, but it's not on you, it's in the past
Mostly part of Peter growing up to become a hero and realizing what his parents--particularly Pepper--have gone through for him to become the person he is today, but that sometimes he still doesn’t feel like he’s making them proud enough.
Compassion Is a German Word by To Kill A King
Don't be so arrogant, you ain't no different to anyone I've met, we're all the heroes in our own film, or maybe the villain in someone else's
Spider-Man being an excellent superhero boi!!! Being kind and good!!! We love it!! Also, I put a TKAK song on...a LOT of my playlists, because I think they’re great.
brutal by Olivia Rodrigo
And I'm so sick of seventeen, where's my fucking teenage dream?, if someone tells me one more time, "Enjoy your youth", I'm gonna cry
I mean...this song is such a Teenage Mood...I had to do it...
In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning by Frank Sinatra
So, I had this cute little scene in my head that went with this song for SO LONG but there wasn’t really anything for it to fit into so...yeah that’s part 2 of Savannah’s Birthday Gift, a little soft Baby Peter drabble. Fluffy Goop from top to bottom. That can be read here.
Home by Phillip Phillips
Just know you're not alone, 'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home
...I know it’s not original, okay? It’s found family, it’s great, I don’t care!
Comes and Goes (In Waves) by Greg Laswell
And this part was for her, and this part was for her, this part was for her, does she remember?
This song is good family angst in general BUT these specific lyrics made me think of Mary and that they never forget her in their lives despite the other stuff going on (because we refuse to let them).
I Have Made Mistakes by The Oh Hellos
I have made mistakes, I continue to make them, the promises I've made, I continue to break them, and all the doubts I've faced, I continue to face them, but nothing is a waste if you learn from it
No one in the Ironfam is perfect, but they all do their best to try and grow even when they’re scared they’ll never be able to. The ups and downs are all par for the course of this series to us.
Easy Days - Demo by Bastille
Cause I don’t wanna fall back again, back into the easy days, everything was so simple then, little fires burned away
Strife is a part of life, and the family in this fic growing through their loss and struggles and moving ahead as a unit to get to a better place is super central to making the fic what it is...but it’s easy for them to remember the old days before being superheroes and wishing it was simple again.
North by Sleeping At Last
Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind, let our hearts like doors open wide, open wide, settle our bones like wood over time, over time, give us bread, give us salt, give us wine
The way Tony went from feeling so alone to having an entire built family that’s so full of love and everything he never dreamed of...*screams into my pillow* I love this series so much thank you and good night!!!
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colourfullsims · 4 years ago
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An Overdue Update
Hey there! Long time no see.
It’s been quite a while since my last update (and several times that I’ve said I would update that fell through lol), but I think it’s finally the perfect time to tell you all what’s been going on behind the scenes. I’ve kept most of you all in the dark with no explanation for my hiatus for months now, but with the end of the year upon us, I want things out in the open before moving into 2021. I will warn you now, that this will be a long post, because there’s a lot of backstory I have to lay out to explain everything. There will also be some brief mentions of emotional manipulation and emotional abuse in the beginning of this post, which I will be content tagging for safety, so please skip over the first question if you would like to avoid this subject.
Now without further ado, I will be answering some frequently asked questions, starting with:
Q: Where did you go?
The short answer to this is that I took a very long, unwanted break from the community, but that answer doesn’t really suffice in explaining why. Typically, I like to keep things lighthearted and chill on this blog, because much of the reason why I play the Sims and do storytelling is for escapism. Things that happened this year took that away from me.
This spring, I broke up with my long term boyfriend of five years. With that separation came a lot of heartache, guilt, and stress for a variety of reasons. We’d been together since my days in undergrad and had shared so many intimate experiences together: graduations, moving out of state into our first “grown up” apartment, birthday trips to our favorite cities. We had inside jokes that I still find myself wanting to make with him, because after so much of our lives intertwined together, he’d essentially become my best friend. But things ended between us for good reason.
Despite the good that came out of that relationship, there was a fair amount of emotional manipulation/abuse that went on, early as the first few months of us being official. Sometimes it was subtle things: when we first started dating, I was in my final year of undergrad and doing all I could to bring up my gpa and buff up my resume, so that I could increase my chances of getting into my grad school of choice. Frequently, he would comment on my academic successes as if they would be the thing that would break us up. I remember presenting a paper on a panel, facing my fear of public speaking head on, and I was so proud of the work I’d put into it all, and then hours later coming back to my student apartment to tell him how it went, and the first words out of his mouth were, “Someday you’re gonna get too smart and leave me behind.” And that wouldn’t be the last time he said some iteration of that phrase to me, and every time it would feel like he was praying I would slow down so he wouldn’t feel I was outgrowing him. Even when I finally did get accepted to my dream school, my first thought after my excitement was that when I told him the news, he wouldn’t be happy for me. My decisions for my future became personal slights to him: I had to move from the midwest out to NYC to attend grad school, and even though I discouraged him from following me if he didn’t want to live in the city (which he 100% did not), he followed me anyway and hung that decision over my head like a giant reminder of some debt that I owed him. I regret not following my gut then and my failure to recognize the red flags, because I would go on to spend 3 more years after our move losing myself as he clutched onto me, in what I can only assume with the hope that if he held on tight enough, that I wouldn’t leave him behind. 
When I look at the more overt signs of my ex’s possessiveness, I realize I should have shared what was going on more with the people close to me: in the early stages on our relationship, he’d already done destructive things like slashing the tires of a guy I had been seeing earlier that same year, and punching a hole into the wall of my student apartment. He’d gone through all my messages on social media, my texts, my emails, all to find out about old crushes that he suspected I might still be in contact with. He even went as far as reading through my private journal, which I previously wrote in daily, but now I struggle to write in more than a few times a year, for fear of my privacy being invaded again. In the wake of realizing our relationship was failing, instead of ending things, I put my energy into hoping that he would do better, and I hid what was happening from my family and friends, to the point that I avoided their messages and phone calls. I isolated myself in increasing measures as time went on until I was too timid to do most things outside of my apartment without my ex-boyfriend by my side. The reason I stayed so long is because of these combined things: the sense of owing him my time after uprooting his life, the fact that I was both physically and mentally separated from my support systems, the feeling of familiarity that had grown from shared experiences and time, and largely, this overwhelming self imposed desire to not appear as though I had failed my relationship.
Largely, 2020 has been an absolute trash fire, but I can thank this year for one thing; putting me into a situation of such unrest that I could no longer ignore that I was not living the life I wanted or deserved.
After our breakup, I moved back to my parents’ place and stayed there while the remainder of my lease in New York ran out. When I originally left, I only brought back a small suitcase and backpack filled with essentials and valuable items that I couldn’t leave behind in my apartment, so I had to return again to retrieve my things, which, as you can imagine, was not fun. Not only was traveling during covid a nightmare, my ex was threatening to throw all my stuff out of our apartment, so I had to scramble to get a flight, a hotel, moving equipment, and a moving service arranged on the fly so I could retrieve everything (and when I got there, he had smashed one of my laptops). In summation, from our break up to finally moving out completely, this all happened over the span of mid-spring to the 1st of August.
Since then, I’ve been keeping myself sparse on the internet, partially because I needed the time to recover from the entire experience, and partially because frankly, I’ve been afraid of my ex monitoring any of my accounts to keep tabs on me. He was fully aware of this blog, and since in recent years it's been the only account I’ve kept up with, I was afraid of him trying to find out where I am and what I’ve been doing through here. I’ve only felt comfortable reblogging others content for the past few months.
So that’s where I’ve been. Which brings us to the next question:
Q: What happened to Love Island?
Over the past few months, I’ve received several asks and messages about whether or not I still planned on doing the Love Island challenge, as well as words of concern about my well being. I want to start by acknowledging all those messages by first apologizing to anyone I didn’t get back to: the majority of you got the sense that I was overwhelmed or burnt out, as most of us have been this year, and I really thank you for still having any interest in seeing me do any type of content after I essentially ghosted you all lol. I really appreciate all the well wishes too.
But I also received this:
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Which, 1) I don’t know if this was either impeccable timing or horrible timing on your part, considering I planned on writing this update before this landed in my inbox.
And 2),
I don’t know if you were a reader or one of the participants selected for the challenge, but I’m sorry you’re disappointed about me not following through with the challenge. I was really excited to do it when I made the casting call, was ecstatic about the number of creators who submitted complex and diverse sims, and I had even completed the villa and started working on shooting the premiere. But as you can see from everything above, life happened. I wish this year had been more stable so that I could have done the challenge with no problem. 
But I’m not going to apologize for making the choices I needed to to preserve my mental health and safety.
That being said, it’s been so many months since I originally pitched the challenge; many of the creators who were selected are now inactive or have deactivated. And honestly, I didn’t know whether you all would even want the challenge at the point, I mean…? It’s winter time now, and Love Island was definitely more of a summer themed challenge lol.
As it stands, I don’t know if I will be picking up where I left off with the Love Island challenge. I certainly still have some interest in doing it; I built a whole set and had an entire schedule of challenges and dates planned for the project. But I don’t know if I can move forward with the original cast, or if I would have to do a new casting call to fill the spaces of inactive creators. So...I guess I would need feedback from you all. Would you want Love Island still?
Q: What are you planning to do now?
Right now, I’m doing whatever makes me happy. I’m in a much better place than I was about 6 months ago, and I don’t feel the same anxiety about posting as I did. For now, I might just post some casual gameplay until I know whether or not I’m moving forward with Love Island. I’m just happy to come back to do what I love.
So there you have it. 2020 kicked my ass in some really heart wrenching ways, and I needed some time to not worry about keeping up with content creation and just worry about taking care of me. Now that I’m a little more stable, I want to come back, even if it’s just simple stuff for now. To those of you who have stuck around waiting to see if I’d ever pick my projects back up, thank you so much, and I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting this long lol. For the time being, all I have to offer is a very long overdue Follower’s Gift: I will be hosting a giveaway for my followers this week, where I will be giving away $40 worth of sims content each to 3 followers. I’ll have more details about the giveaway tomorrow when the official post goes live.
If you made it this far thank you for reading this long mess, and I’ll see you all soon!
~Cam
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fuckingdeadbutroyal · 5 years ago
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Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 3
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
Bruce would never admit it. No, of course not. Bruce was a literal father of eight, Catwomans fiance and motherfucking Batman himself. Right then, standing in the ruins of what was once “The City of Love”? He could not handle the situation. There should have been more people coming to Paris’ rescue, more heroes offering their support and overall more attention on everything that was happening, more attention on what has been going on for years. The irritation seeped into the batfamily like some kind of mist. Everyone felt it, but each person was dealing with it in their very own, individual way. 
For example there currently was a frustrated Cassandra Cain asking Tim for directions, while using a crowbar to open a door that has been sealed shut by the rubble of one of the broken buildings. She was angry, or at least that’s what she has been taught this emotion was called. The decade she has spent on the streets of Gotham have made her capable of handling all kinds of tools and left her with every necessary skill there was, if you needed to open a door or look for something any other person would not have paid any attention to. The young adult wasn’t keen on following her main mission. The villain could be caught later, but those people were dying right then and there. Tim has told them about the Miraculous Cure. Yes, all those people would come back to life if only their heroine would finally manage to catch that damn akuma. 
The memories would stay though. The city would consist of traumatised citizens and be vulnerable to further attacks or, in the worst case, further manipulation. Dick could not stop thinking about what could happen afterwards. What are they going to do once the villain has been eliminated and the miraculous cure has been cast? How would the citizens of Paris react when some sociopath would raise their voice and demand power and set up rules and just overall exploit the damaged and desperate minds of the victims? 
Would this emotional trauma lead to new extremists? 
Would they have to fight a new Hitler or have to assassinate the next Stalin? Speaking of assassination: Damian was raging. His already bad temper was a perfect starting point, which means that now that he had mixed his constant anger with the situational rage... he felt alive. 
He remembered that that was what superboy has felt like the first time he realised he could fly. Kon-Els’ emotions were always very...expressive. He loved to indulge every bit of adrenaline and excitement he could reach. Damian was glad to have him as his soulmate, though. The other boys positivity and extroverted way of acting was complementary to Damians introverted defensivness. Kon-Els’ habit of sharing his pleasent emotions and sensations through their soulmate-bond has opened the Wayne heirs eyes in several ways.
Now the youngest batfamily-members’ adrenaline and rage-filled soul was holding back from sharing that powerup with his lover, though. Instead he was focusing on Paris and subconciously hoping not to remember it in it’s current form, having planned on taking his boyfriend there for their anniversary. No, instead he was looking at those pained faces and ruins. His mind was tunneled, sure, but whatever he saw on the other end of that tube did not stand a single chance. The boy was rummaging through the streets, following each and every one of Red Robins and Batmans orders without giving it a second guess. Damian was reacting to everything colored red that came into his vision. Paired up with his oldest brother, who has taken to asking the citizens about what they have witnessed and if there was anyone who needed immediate help. Damian did not speak. He stared down anyone who didn’t answer them right away and “put on pause” whoever was causing trouble inside the shelters. He was following the “no killing policy”. (Which didn’t mean he held back.) A broken bone was a broken bone, no matter if it killed you or just immobilsed you for a few weeks. Dick did not approve of Damians actions, but the young one was careful not to leave a trace of his doings and knew for sure that there wouldn’t be anyone who would dare to tattle on him, not if they valued their oh so precious teeth.
Each and any trace that could lead them to the villains identity has been collected. Barbara paid special attention to accuracy and professionalism, no matter how difficult it was. She didn’t allow herself to loose focus, didn’t turn away from the mission. She wanted to, oh how much she wanted to just stop looking at those weird dusty footprints and butterfly themed anythings and pull the people in misery out of their ashes. Orakle couldn’t dare do it, though. Anyone else has already stopped paying attention to the mission. If she did too, there would be no one left to find the source of evil. She kept on playing the matra her father has taught her in the back of her head: “Find the criminal, save the future victims, find the criminal, save the future victims...” 
The future was uncertain, even for Duke. His photokinetic skill let him see into the near future, aswell as a bit of the past. But that didn’t help because that day he just couldn’t see anything but death and destruction in both directions. His vision was clouded with blood and dust and he quite honestly felt blind and useless. They should’ve come sooner, they didn’t have the right to leave these people to their own devices. Especialy since they knew that their devices were malfunctioning. The boys heart was full of regret. If only he could have seen this coming, if only he could have showed the akumatised victim a way out! It was his job as “The Signal” after all, he didn’t wear this annoyingly bright yellow suit for no reason!
Tim was surprisingly calm. He had his coffeemashine working, Alfred keeping him comany in the batcave and several constant sources of information keeping him entertained. He hated to admit it, but for once he felt fulfilled. His brain was working at just the right pace, he was giving out orders and information without having to secondguess himself and could allow himself to just let the mission take it’s course. He saw the dots moving around on the screen, saw the battlefield growing and changing and knew when to usher his family away from, or even towards danger. Yes, the pressure was incredibly high, but oh god was it exhilarating. 
Which didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed when his orders were being ignored. Cass not listening to him he has already been counting on, she was saving the people and that was all he needed her to do. Stephanies string of fate, which was connected to Tims heart, was safe and sound and she kept him updated about her actions, so he was fine with keeping her out of the equation, for now. Jason though? 
“Hood! What the fuck is up with you?”, Tim signaled his older brother, who was currently walking at the pace of an elderly zombie and, for whatever reason, constantly turning in the direction of the Saine, completly disregarding the route Tim has assigned him on. “I totally get your need for caffeine now, Red.”, Jason laughed in return, “doesn’t mean I support it though.” Having said that he went back to silently brooding in the direction that was making him even more tired than he already was. 
Jason was exhausted, but he wasn’t dumb. He’d guessed that his soulmate had to be somewhere in the area and he was certain that the strenghtening bond was due to their proximity. The further he walked the more he felt them. Or in other words, felt his body succumb to their weakness. Whoever they were, Jason knew they were on the verge of dying. A soulmates bond can only do so much. Sure, if he ate and slept for two, his bonded would get their share, but it still wasn’t enough. Judging by the way he was currently about to collapse, they haven’t been taking care of themselves for a while now. Jason had to do something. He needed to find them and get them to someplace where they could recover, at least enough for Jason to be able to get back to work again. 
Blinking, Red Hood realised where he was. Where there should have been water, just a few dozen meters in front of him, were...
“Red, am I hallucinating or is that river full of giant ladybugs?”
“Those are boats. Their color indicates them to be Lucky Charms, a creation of Ladybugs superpower. Batman and the others have found several other items all over the city and collected the ones they could. Apparently Ladybug has to throw them in the air in order to cast the cure. Are you capable of investigating these ones? I think they could be shelters but my drones haven’t arrived yet so we have no heatvision to investigate from abov-”
“I’m on it.”, Jason interrupted him, having gotten a grasp of the situation and, due to his tiredness, not being capable of listening for such amounts of information without succumbing to the monotone lullaby of another human beings voice.
Tim watched in wonder, as the big, scary, red hooded man stopped midtrack, made a 90° turn and climbed into a destroyed cafe. He came out of it, several minutes later, armed with what seemed like two cups of coffee, a bag full of food held between his teeth and unconcious parisians on each one of his shoulders. Jason carefully squatted, letting them down at the door of the nearby akuma-shelter and sitting crosslegged next to them. After carefully dropping his bag of baked goods in his lap and downing the probably burning hot coffee from his left hand in one go, he finally turned his com back on and just sat there, eating. 
A few moments had passed before Tim mustered up the courage to speak to him. He’s been fighting evil in the streets of the most crime-ridden city their planet had to offer for years now, but never in his whole career has he seen something as terrifying as that man he considered a brother, who he knew had commited murder, died and come back to life, just sit and eat while everything around him consisted of ruins, death and destruction.
“Tho-those civilans. Did you-?”
“I knew you would ask that!”, a full mouth replied, “Of fucking course not. They were knocked out by their bloody ceiling collapsing onto their damn heads. They’re still breathing and I’m sure there’s like, first aid in those shelters. I just gotta-”, he took another bite, taking his time, again swallowing his second cup of coffee in one go and letting out an exhausted but slightly more energized breath, “I just gotta recharge, then I’ll be on my way.”
“Are you okay? Why so weak all of a sudden?”
“Who are ya calling weak, replacement?”
“I meant what I said, now spill.”
An uncharacteristical sigh escaped Jasons lips. He didn’t like speaking of his soulmate. It made him feel weak, especialy due to their bond consisting of literal suffering. Given the current situation, though, he decided to share.
“Did you know I have a soulmate?”
Tims surprise was evident but he did not dare speak up, in fear of disrupting his brothers confession. 
“We’re kind of a fucked up pair, to be honest. Our bond isn’t as cute as yours and Spoilers. It’s like...very physical. Whenever she gets hurt I get the same bruise.”
Jason now knew she was female. He felt her much more intensely, recognized those physical attributes he was sensing. If felt weird and he would have to get used to it. (Only if the both of them were going to survive the next few hours, of course.) 
He took another bite of the third pastry he was currently eating, before continuing: “Whenever one of us has hurt ourselves when we were little, the other did something similar in some sort of “payback”. It was dumb. Silly realy...”
Tim was only half listening. As much as he wanted to know every tiny detail of this secretive mans confessions, he still had a job to do. A shelter not far from Dukes whereabouts has been covered by more debris and was therefore in danger of collapsing on itself. He gave out orders to everyone but Jason. Red Robin had a guess considering what he was about to be told and couldn’t risk ignoring that possibly incredibly important piece of information.
Jason was finishing his seventh pastry, while explaining to Tim how he recognized Paris through his soulmate and pointed out how odd it was, that she knew what every angle looked like from above and how she has never set foot inside an akuma-shelter. 
Saying it out loud made it painfully obvious. Especially when he paired the information with the fact that his wounds seemed to heal so quickly and the exhaustion the bonded pair was feeling.
Ladybugs powers include healing.
Ladybug was fighting the most difficult battle this war has ever offered.
Ladybug was Jasons soulmate and he knew where he could find her.
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Hello!!!
I hope you are having a great day, night, morning...probably night. Nighttime is tumblrtime after all. 
Thank you SO MUCH for all your feedback, it is now my fuel, my water, my blood, I love y’all.
Also, English is my third language so please, if you find any mistakes or notice a grammatical sin: please tell me! I am still learning and would love to correct my mistakes.
Part 4 is in the making and either it will be very long or I’ll make a part 5. No promises though!
P.S.: Proper Jasonette is finally happening next chapter, I’m excited ^^
I never would have thought I’d get to say that but I now have a taglist! If you want to be added just tell me in whichever way: I will find you and I will tag you *insert evil laughter*
Tag List \o/:
@maribat-is-lifeblood @lokilex @amayakans 
Thanks for reading ^^
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