#and everything shut off. Everyone is gone.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ CARMEN kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing ⭢ consume (bonus) ⭢ take your mask off

��� warnings richgirl!yn, more sakura and yn focus on this chapter, angst, flashbacks, guilt, a lot of confusion, over working, mentions of fainting, mentions of not eating, arguments, guilt, alcohol

it had been exactly a week since the girls stayed at the moons' humble home, and things had taken a strange turn, really strange.

yn returned to the dorms a couple of days later, though this time, she didn’t have much of a choice. their comeback preparations were in full swing, and her absence wasn’t an option.

but ever since their visit to yn’s family home, something felt… off. it wasn’t anything anyone could point out directly, but the shift in the air was undeniable. with everyone back together, practicing and prepping for the comeback, the strange energy became even more apparent.

yet, no one mentioned it. it was as though everyone had silently agreed to ignore the unsettling vibe that lingered between them, as if pretending it didn’t exist might make it go away.

no one noticed.

except sakura.

the first thing sakura noticed was how frazzled chaewon seemed after leaving the moon house. she had gone back to grab her phone and returned looking visibly shaken. when sakura asked what was wrong, chaewon brushed it off with a shake of her head.

the next thing she noticed was yunjin. normally the one to eagerly join in on chaewon’s rants about yn, yunjin had suddenly become... quieter. she didn’t even want to hear it anymore, shutting down conversations with comments like, "let’s just focus on this," or, "it’s really not that serious." it was strange, yunjin had always been vocal when it came to their shared thoughts about yn.

well, all of them except for kazuha, sakura thought.

but now, it seemed like yunjin was distancing herself from anything related to yn, actively changing the subject whenever her name came up. sakura couldn’t fathom what could have caused the sudden shift. what happened at the moon house that had made yunjin so... different?

sakura didn’t know where she found the courage, but she finally asked yunjin what was going on with her. the younger girl’s response was short and cryptic, “we’re a group, we should act like it.”

whatever that means.

you see, sakura had worked incredibly hard to get to where she was now, and she continued to push herself every single day. that was her problem with yn.

yn was the embodiment of having it easy. the brand deals, the fans, the love, it all seemed to fall into her lap without much effort. sometimes, it looked like she didn’t even have to try. she just had it, effortlessly shining in a way that made it hard to look away.

sakura liked to call her teruhashi. whenever yn asked what she meant by that, sakura would just laugh it off, shaking her head like it was some inside joke yn wouldn’t understand.

so yeah, sakura felt like she had every right to feel the way she did about yn. everyone in the group had put in years of hard work to get here, sacrificing everything to make it. and then came her—this rich girl whose dad conveniently got shares in the company, who was plopped into the group last minute before debut, only to become the most popular member overnight.

it wasn’t fair.

the room was filled with heavy breaths, the squeak of sneakers against the floor, and the steady rhythm of the music.

"one, two, three, four, all the girls are—"

"sakura, straighten your arms. make sure your lines are clean," the choreographer called out, scanning the group. "actually, all of you— wait, yn, come here."

they gestured for yn to step forward before turning back to the others. "this. this is exactly how you should be doing it."

"can you demonstrate?" the choreographer asked, turning to yn.

all eyes were on her now.

she stood there, unfazed, wearing bedazzled sunglasses so dark it was a mystery if she could even see. paired with baggy pink sweatpants, a top that barely passed as a shirt, more like a bikini top and, of all things, a pair of low moon boots.

what the hell is she wearing? chaewon had muttered under her breath when they left the dorm that morning and how does someone where that and still look good yn did, gosh she was a mess, a mess who was still the best in the room.

she unpaused the music, and immediately, yn started moving.

yn was versatile. no matter what concept was thrown at them, she adapted effortlessly, slipping into each one like it was made for her. sakura wasn’t going to lie, she had to mentally prepare every time they switched concepts, had to push herself to embody something new.

so watching yn do it so easily… it always made her feel a certain way.

like now.

the choreographer clapped after yn finished the part she instructed her to do, “that’s exactly how I want you guys to do it, keep your eyes on yn for now on.”

sakura kept her eyes on yn the whole time, noticing how the girl didn’t seem all that pleased with the choreographer’s praise.

why was that? if it were her, she’d be basking in it.

“yn you can go back, let’s start from the top.”

the rest of practice was a disaster, not in terms of their dancing, but the energy in the room. it didn’t feel like teamwork. it felt like competition.

sakura didn’t just want to match yn’s movements. she wanted to surpass them, but she couldn’t and that was the problem.

sighs of relief filled the room as the girls took sips of water, exhaustion settling in while they packed up their things.

sakura slung her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave, when she noticed something, yn was the only one who hadn’t packed up yet.

she stood alone in the corner, quietly sipping water from the dispenser, as if in no rush to leave.

sakura wasn’t the only one who noticed.

she watched as kazuha’s gaze landed on yn, her brows furrowing as she said something to her. whatever it was, sakura couldn’t make it out over the chatter of the other girls.

her curiosity only grew when kazuha suddenly shook her head, turning away from yn and heading back toward the group.

"let’s go," she muttered, not looking back.

"wait, wait, what’s up with yn?" sakura asked as the rest of the girls filed out of the room.

kazuha let out an annoyed sigh. "she’s staying to practice more. said she’ll be home in an hour, but knowing her, that probably means tomorrow."

"hasn’t she done enough?" sakura scoffed. "she already embarrassed us today. does she even realize we’re supposed to be on the same level?"

if yn wanted to be that good, maybe she should’ve just been a soloist.

kazuha opened her mouth to respond, but she just let out a sigh and shook her head.

most nights, sakura was the first to head to bed or at least the first to retreat to her room.

but not tonight.

it was nearly 1 a.m., and instead of sleeping, she sat on the couch, mindlessly watching netflix, barely paying attention to the time.

she flinched at the sound of the front door creaking open, instinctively pulling her blanket tighter around herself.

she had just finished a horror movie and was already onto the next so this was definitely not an ideal situation.

sloppy foot steps was heard making her furrow her eyebrows until it hit her, yn.

yn came into view, the sunglasses she had worn earlier now gone, revealing tired, red rimmed eyes. an oversized sweater hung loosely over her frame, swallowing her up.

she stumbled slightly as she walked through the entryway, one hand reaching out to the wall for support.

"yn?" sakura called out, her voice laced with confusion.

yn looked up at her, her eyes barely open. when she saw sakura, they widened in surprise. "um..." she mumbled, unsure of how to respond.

“I thought you came back hours ago, were you still practicing?” sakura questioned, yn’s whole body language setting alarms in her head, “how did you even get back?”

“it was one of my family’s drivers. It doesn’t matter what time, it's their job." yn mumbled, her words barely audible as she completely avoided sakura’s eyes.

"that sounds pretty privileged," sakura scoffed, her tone sharp with disbelief.

"it was either that, or I would’ve passed out with no one around to help." yn snapped back, her words laced with frustration.

"huh?" sakura muttered, finally noticing the hospital bracelet wrapped around yn’s wrist. "yn... were you just at the hospital?"

"what does it look like?" the younger girl shot back, heading toward the kitchen without a second glance.

sakura followed her without hesitation. “what? how? why?”

yn opened the fridge and grabbed a cold water bottle. “you know, the usual, undereating, overworking.”

“the usual?” sakura echoed, disbelief creeping into her voice.

yn let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the counter. “why do you even care?”

"because one of my members was just in the hospital, didn’t contact any of us, and then just casually calls it the usual?"sakura shot back, her frustration clear, “why would I not care?”

"because it is the usual. not my fault you haven’t noticed," yn shot back, her voice tinged with irritation. "and why would you not care? because you haven’t before, sue me."

sakura let out a frustrated sigh. "yn... this is different. this is important. this is your health."

yn shook her head, taking another sip from her water bottle. "it really isn’t different. with all the stuff you say about me, all the things you probably think about me, why on earth would you care about this?"

“yn-”

"well, since you’ve gotten me started, I guess I should finish, right?" yn cut her off, taking another sip of water, her movements sluggish like someone trying to sober up. "you know, you were probably the one who hurt me the most." after chaewon of course but she wasn’t going to say that out loud.

sakura furrowed her brow, confusion flooding her expression as yn continued. "I mean, you’re the older, motherly one who takes care of everyone... but you never even batted an eye at me. so, sorry for being freaked out right now by you suddenly caring."

the words hit sakura like a punch to the gut. she felt a sharp pang in her chest, she didn’t know how to respond.

"and when I found out you and chaewon were former idols, I thought, great, I have someone older who can guide me through this crazy industry," yn rambled, her voice thick with frustration. "but I guess I’m just too rich and perfect for that. instead, I had you laughing along with everyone else while old men belittled me."

sakura opened her mouth, but no words came out. it felt like everything yn said was just pouring out, and she was left speechless.

yn leaned further against the counter, taking another sip of water, and sakura couldn't shake the thought, was that even water?

"maybe it’s just me being dumb and craving that mother figure but it was such a shock for me," yn continued, "because when I was at sm, the girls I was with took care of me so well. you know aespa, right? you probably know I was supposed to debut with them?"

sakura nodded, her mind numb, her stomach sinking. guilt consumed her, she felt sick.

“yn-”

"did you also know I was forced out of the lineup because of my father?" yn’s words were laced with venom, and sakura flinched, the sharpness stinging her more than she expected. "I don’t want to be in this group as much as you don’t want me here."

"yn-"

"I have a question for you, unnie," yn said, dragging out "unnie" with a mocking tone. "do you hate me, or is it your insecurities getting the best of you?"

sakura was speechless. yn was right. yn was rich, pleasant, and constantly praised, yet that was just the surface, what sakura had seen from the outside. she didn’t know the full story, but the proof was standing right in front of her.

sakura wanted to be her in some ways, and that desire had only gotten in the way of building a connection with her.

"yn… I-"

"what’s going on?" chaewon’s voice broke through the tension, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stepped into the kitchen. "I heard noise—what the hell, did you just get here?" her words were aimed at yn, who just shook her head, walking past chaewon and down the hall.

sakura’s gaze lingered down the hall where yn had disappeared, her chest heavy. chaewon’s questioning tone snapped her back to the moment. "what happened?"

a lump grew in sakura’s throat as she struggled to find the words. "um, nothing. just go back to bed."

she finally understood yunjin.

[bytemee]

HOUSE OF BALLOONS — YU JIMIN.

“you're in my world now, you can stay, you can stay. but you belong to me, ooh, you belong to me."

synopsis. karina wasn’t used to sharing. seeing you laugh with someone else? that didn’t sit right with her.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ (smut), g!p reader, pet names (she calls u puppy like it’s ur name), unprotected sex, p in v, jealous!karina, dom!karina, sub!reader and bad writing ahaa...

words. 1.6k

authors note. i could go for a chipotle burrito but damn do they be taxing

karina was used to having all eyes on her. she was the kind of girl who walked into a room and made everyone else feel like background noise. and you—shy, awkward, always fumbling over your words—were her favorite plaything.

it wasn’t like you were dating. she just liked keeping you close, liked the way you turned red when she got too close, and liked knowing that you’d drop everything the second she called.

but tonight, you weren’t where you were supposed to be.

she had invited you to the party—expected you to hover near her like always, expected you to wait for her to give you attention. but instead, you were downstairs, sitting on the couch, laughing at something some random girl said.

karina didn’t like that.

she watched from across the room, arms crossed, lips pursed, as she saw the way you were smiling—actually smiling—in front of someone else.

when the girl leaned in a little too close, touching your arm, something snapped.

before you even realized what was happening, karina was in front of you, slipping between you and the girl with a sickly sweet smile.

"oh, i see you’ve met my little puppy," she said smoothly, tilting her head. "careful with this one. she gets nervous around new people.”

you were about to open your mouth to say something then she sat down on your lap, draping her arms over your shoulders. you swallowed hard, your face going pink, completely caught off guard.

karina had always been shameless with her teasing, but this—this was different. she was staking a claim, making sure everyone in the room knew exactly who you belonged to.

the girl you had been talking to gave an awkward laugh, clearly unsure of what to do now that karina had inserted herself into the situation.

"uh, i was just—"

"leaving?" karina finished for her, still smiling, though it was obvious she wanted her gone.

the girl hesitated, looking between the two of you before mumbling some excuse and disappearing into the crowd.

you barely had a second to process what just happened before karina’s fingers were suddenly in your hair, twirling a loose strand between her fingers as she leaned in even closer.

your eyes widened, your face burning up under the intense stare she was giving you. you swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the couch, unsure of where else to put them.

and then, just when you thought she couldn't get any closer, she did, her lips brushing against your ear. "don't look so surprised, puppy."

she pulled away just enough to look into your eyes again. then she got up from your lap, smoothing out her skirt before grabbing your hand and pulling you upstairs, away from all the prying eyes.

and you let her.

karina didn’t waste a second. she shoved you into the first empty room she found, kicking the door shut behind her before pinning you against the wall.

it didn’t matter whether you were hers in name—because in every way that counted, you were. and tonight, she was making sure everyone knew it.

her lips crashed against yours, rough and claiming, like she had something to prove. and maybe she did. maybe she needed to remind you exactly where you belonged.

karina was a damn good kisser, and the longer she kissed you, the harder it got to stand on your own. your fingers curled into her shirt, clinging to her for support, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips.

she loved this. loved how easily she could pull you apart, how simple it was to make you forget everything but her.

when she finally pulled away, a thin strand of saliva still connected you for a brief second before it snapped, leaving you breathless. your head spun, your lips swollen, and you just stood there, waiting—because she was the one in control, and you both knew it.

her nails raked across your skin, making their way under your shirt, and you bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan.

"you don't want anyone else, do you, hm?" she asked, her voice low and soft. she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your jaw, the gentle touch a sharp contrast to the way her nails dug into your hips.

you shook your head quickly, your heart racing in your chest, because no, no, you only wanted her. you only ever wanted her.

karina hummed, satisfied, her grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. "good," she murmured, "because i don't like sharing."

her teeth grazed your skin, and your breath hitched, fingers twitching where they hovered uncertainly at your sides. you wanted to touch her, wanted to pull her closer, but you knew better than to move without permission.

she noticed, of course she did, and it made her smirk against your throat. "what is it, puppy?" she taunted. "you want to touch me?"

you nodded, swallowing hard. "please," you whispered, barely able to get the word out.

karina pulled back just enough to look at you, tilting her head like she was considering it. her fingers trailed up your sides before she finally grabbed your wrists and guided your hands under her skirt until your fingers brushed against her underwear.

"there," she breathed out. "is that what you wanted?"

she was so wet, and the thought that she was this turned on because of you—because she was claiming you as her own—made you whine, the sound almost desperate.

"karina," you pleaded, the bulge in your pants growing more uncomfortable by the second.

karina's smirk widened. "you want me to touch you?" she asked, her breath hot against your ear.

you nodded frantically, still unable to form words, too overwhelmed by desire to do anything except obey.

"use your words." karina's grip tightened on your wrists.

"please," you whimpered, voice shaking. "please, touch me, i need you."

she hummed, satisfied. "that's what i like to hear."

and then her fingers were working at the buttons of your jeans, her other hand reaching under your shirt, sliding up your stomach before pressing against it to push you onto the bed, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

"karina," you moaned. "i—fuck..."

she didn't waste any time. as soon as you were flat on the bed, she crawled on top of you, straddling your waist, grinding against your thigh as her fingers wrapped around your cock.

karina chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. "you're so sensitive," she purred, her hand moving slowly, teasingly.

you whimpered, your hips moving involuntarily. you were starting to unravel, quickly losing control. karina knew it, and she loved it.

"is this what you wanted, puppy?" she asked, her lips brushing against your neck. "you like it when i touch you like this?"

all you could manage was a ragged moan in response.

her hand moved faster, sending a shock through your system, and you threw your head back, eyes squeezing shut. it felt so fucking good, and you couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only let her do whatever she wanted.

then suddenly she stopped.

your eyes snapped open, and you let out a whine, desperate for more.

karina ignored you, instead pulling her underwear down, kicking it to the side before she straddled your waist again, lining herself up with your cock.

her hands pressed against your chest for balance as she started to move, rolling her hips at an excruciatingly slow pace.

you groaned, your fingers digging into the sheets, trying to keep yourself from just taking over and flipping your positions. you knew that would just earn you a sharp slap and a scolding, something that you would much rather avoid.

karina leaned down, hovering her underwear above your mouth, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"open up," she commanded.

you obeyed, and she stuffed the fabric into your mouth. it tasted like her, and the thought of that alone made you twitch inside her.

your hands moved to grip her thighs, fingers pressing into the soft skin, holding her steady as she rocked her hips.

she let out a breathy moan as you tightened your grip on her. "fuck," she panted, her breaths coming in short gasps. "just like that."

you tried to say something, but all that came out was muffled by the underwear she had shoved into your mouth. karina smirked, her pace increasing, the heat in her core growing stronger, spreading through her body. she threw her head back, a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

"fuck," she groaned. "i'm gonna cum."

she could feel it building, her walls clenching around you, and she knew she was close. she knew the sight of her falling apart would send you over the edge, too, and that's what she wanted, needed, craved.

her grip tightened, nails digging into your chest, her breathing erratic, her hips rocking faster, harder. she was right there, teetering on the edge, and then finally, she toppled over.

"fuck!" she cried out, her orgasm ripping through her, her legs trembling.

the moment she started to come undone, so did you, unable to hold back any longer; you groaned into the underwear, your head thrown back, your spine arching off the mattress, thrusting your hips upwards as you came.

your hands held her in place, gripping her thighs so hard they would leave marks, but neither of you cared.

karina slumped against you, her chest heaving, her face buried in the crook of your neck. she was panting, trying to catch her breath, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart against your skin.

after a few moments, she pulled away, sitting back on your lap, a satisfied smile on her face. she reached forward and slowly pulled the underwear out of your mouth, her gaze fixed on you, taking in the aftermath of what she had done to you.

"mmm, looks like my puppy is satisfied."

you blinked, trying to clear the haze from your mind, but all you could focus on was the sight of her sitting on top of you, the mess dripping down her thighs, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen.

she looked so perfect.

"do you understand now?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. "no one else gets to touch you like this. no one but me."

you nodded, still unable to find your words.

"good," she purred, leaning in and kissing you, soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how she had been before.

[aventurineswife]

HII AUTHOR! ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD DAY? I HAVE A QUESTION. How would the SAHSRAU react if you suddenly got bored with HSR and switched to genshin?

Oh boy... The jealousy and the angst are sure burning up...

At first, they don’t notice.

Everything is normal. The Museum of Divinity still stands. Your artworks are still there. Your music still echoes through the stars.

But then… something changes.

The paintings stop appearing. The music stops playing. The museum doors remain shut.

The characters wait for your next command. It never comes.

The Galaxy is silent.

And that’s when they realize.

“There must be an explanation.”

Welt starts running calculations, probability theories, even dimensional travel theories—anything to explain your sudden disappearance.

Himeko sips her coffee, trying to stay calm, but her hands are shaking. “They’ll be back. They always come back.”

(You in fact did not come back.)

March 7th: "Uh, guys? You might wanna look at this..."

She holds up a blurry, pixelated screenshot she managed to capture—a screenshot of Teyvat.

Himeko’s mug shatters. (Like her heart ahem)

Blade stops moving entirely. His entire reason for existing has just left him behind.

Stares blankly at the sky, gripping his sword. If you are no longer here, then what purpose does he have?

Dan Heng acts calm, but he's already in crisis mode. He's scrolling through files, trying to find any clue as to why you left.

When he sees the Teyvat screenshot, his grip tightens on his spear.

Dan Heng: “…We’ve been abandoned.” (yeah no shit, Sherlock-)

Aventurine immediately plays it cool. "Well, well, well. Looks like our dear Creator has found another plaything."

Sunday is not calm.

"BETRAYAL! TREACHERY! ABANDONMENT! I HAVE BEEN CAST ASIDE!"

He dramatically collapses on the museum floor. Aventurine just watches with amusement.

But the second he sees the Teyvat screenshot—

Aventurine: “…Oh, you���ve got to be joking.”

They both hate the idea of you playing another game more than they hate each other.

Kafka smirks, but there’s a sharp edge to it. "So, you’ve moved on, huh?"

Black Swan looks at the fading murals of your art, her expression unreadable. “All things fade… but I never expected our Creator’s gaze to turn elsewhere.”

Deep down, they wonder—were they not enough?

Luocha: "I suppose even gods grow tired of their creations."

Jing Yuan: "Hah… It seems we have been cast aside for another world."

They act philosophical about it, but they’re both lowkey miserable.

Jing Yuan tries to joke about it, but even Yanqing notices something’s off.

Luocha stares at a fading portrait of you, quietly wondering if he will ever see your light again. (Probably not but ahem)

March 7th is the first to start coping.

"It’s fine, it’s fine! Maybe they’re just… on a vacation! Yeah! They’ll be back! Right?"

Sparkle is already scheming. "If our dear Painter has found another world… then perhaps it’s time we follow them there."

(They are actively looking for ways to break into Teyvat.)

Sighs, so the list goes on...

Blade stops fighting entirely. (What's the point if you're not watching?)

Dan Heng avoids everyone. (He refuses to believe it.)

Kafka and Black Swan start theorizing. (Will you return, or is this the end?)

Sunday begins plotting. (If they cannot bring you back, they will find a way to make you remember them.)

March 7th, Sparkle, and Aventurine?

They're looking for a way to invade Genshin. (Yeah, with Silver Wolf's help)

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months.

They wait.

And wait.

And then—

One day—

A new painting appears.

It's… different.

A familiar signature, but a different style.

A mural of Teyvat.

And on that day, the last hope shatters.

You are gone.

Their Creator has truly moved on.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop searching for you. Not ever.

My back hurts... I'm taking away your guys' SAHSRAU privilege. I need someone to write this as a fic or expand it and I'm not gonna write it, that's for you. 🫶

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART THIRTEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: in a weird turn of events, sae-byeok tries to comfort those around her.

wc. 2.1k

warnings: angst followed by comfort

(nowhere girl masterlist)

Sae-byeok feels delirious. After everyone in the apartment fell asleep, only she remained awake trying to recollect the memories the events that occurred from only a couple hours ago. But they came in fragments. She mostly recalls seeing red when you and her went to Daejeon. She is aware how rigid her words can shift when she is angry or stressed and she regrets yelling at you. This is something she can’t find the pride to admit but, you’re the reason Ji-yeong was found. Not her.

She is losing her way of life. Her currently lifestyle is making her go soft and she’s still nowhere near her monetary goal to rescue her mom. And because Ji-yeong hasn’t been at work for three days now, it’s up to her to cough up a little extra money on the streets in order to pay rent next week. The money you gave her ran out, so instead of going to sleep she waits until everyone else is, throws on her jacket and heads out the door.

This time Sae-byeok made sure to pickpocket out of town.

By the time she arrives back to her apartment it was already the afternoon meaning she spent her entire morning pickpocketing. Her foot is aching and the only thing she had for lunch was a bulgogi onigiri she bought at the convenience store. She was ready to collapse in bed but she had responsibilities to take care of.

The lights in the apartment where still shut off and all the curtains are shut with little light escaping though them. You were long gone by the time she arrived back with her clothes and blanket neatly folded on the couch. You sent her a message when you departed at seven in the morning so she asked that you let her know when you made it home safe. But have yet to reply, it’s starting to concern her now.

Cheol was also sound asleep on his side of the bed, to her surprise. He also tends to wake up early like Sae-byeok, but perhaps he didn’t get a restful sleep last night because she wasn’t here.

She quietly counts the crumpled up balls of money and coins she was able to collect and stuffed majority of the money inside her drawer.

Her next stop is Ji-yeong’s room.

“How long have you been awake?” Sae-byeok asks after Ji-yeong unlocked her bedroom door and let her in. Her roommate jumps back into bed as she sits on the edge.

“I think like three hours ago but I lost track.” she mumbles, her tone more melancholic than usual.

She notices how puffy and lifeless her eyes are, clearly she was crying all night. Sae-byeok sighs, she wishes she could know the words to use to make Ji-yeong feel better. But maybe words aren’t enough in her case.

“So, what happened with your dad?” she asks cautiously and observes her facial expression to check if there’s a flicker of change in them.

Ji-yeong lets out an exasperated sigh and struggles to speak momentarily. “At first, he refused to see me so I had to wait for an hour until he finally changed his mind. Then he kept apologizing and apologizing and was like ‘I ask God for forgiveness everyday’ but when I told him it was all bullshit he went…I saw the dark look in his eyes again.” she looks at Sae-byeok in the eyes. “It was the same look he had when he killed mom. I had chills up my spine seeing him like that I seriously thought I was next.”

Sae-byeok felt a pang in her chest. A part of her feels like she pushed Ji-yeong into this mess.

“What’s with that look?” Ji-yeong asks. She doesn’t respond. “Don’t feel bad for telling me to visit him. I actually feel better—less guilty about his current state. I still need time I think.”

“Time to think?”

“Yeah, to process everything. But unfortunately, I only have today to do that because I picked up a twelve hour shift at work to make up for the days I missed.”

“Is that your way of telling me to get out of your room?”

Ji-yeong reaches to pat her back. “Look at you being emotionally intelligent!”

With a roll of her eyes she gets off the mattress and towards the door.

“Wait before you go,” Ji-yeong speaks up. “have you seen ‘her’ yet?” she wriggles her eyebrows when Sae-byeok turns around.

“What’s with that face and why did you say her like that?” Sae-byeok scoffs, feeling defensive suddenly.

“I take back my emotionally intelligent comment then.” she grumbles, shaking her head. “I saw her get ready this morning so I was wondering if you dropped her off or something.”

“No, I didn’t drop her off. I left before any of you woke up.” Sae-byeok says flatly and takes a hold of the door knob. She doesn’t like where this conversation is taking.

“She seemed off though.” she points out when Sae-byeok opens the door.

“Did she? Didn’t notice.”

When Sae-byeok is fully out the door it didn’t prevent her from hearing Ji-yeong say, “I can see right through you, Kang Sae-byeok!”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Later in the day, once Cheol woke up and had lunch, Sae-byeok casually mentioned the idea of seeing you. This elated the boy, who asked if it was possible to drop by your place as early as today. And because you haven’t been replying to Sae-byeok’s text, she agreed.

So, this lead the Kang siblings to stand outside your apartment door.

When you open it, Sae-byeok did notice you seem off. Your eyes were slightly swollen and tired almost like Ji-yeong’s crying ones. Maybe she came at a bad time—or bad day.

“Hi. Did something happen?” you softly, adverting your gaze down to Cheol.

“Cheol, wanted to see you.” she says plainly. “And you weren’t replying to my texts.”

“Hi, Noona.” Cheol greets you bashfully.

Sae-byeok can readily tell that you were forcing your face muscles to smile at Cheol. You bend down your knees to meet at his level.“Hey! I’m glad you wanted to stop by to see me I have some things for you.”

“Seriously?” he blinks.

You nod and tell them to enter the apartment before rushing up the stairs. Minutes later, you come back with a wooden crate full of supplies and plop it down in front of the boy.

Cheol sends you a skeptical glance. You encourage him to look inside the basket. There were full marker sets, graphite pencils of different grades, paint brushes with dried up paint, acrylic paint, and small empty canvases. Maybe there was more in the basket he missed.

“Is this all for me?” he mutters in disbelief.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Noona.” he says, contemplating whether to reach over to embrace you but held back the urge in fear. You could sense his hesitation so you outstretch your arms and engulf him in a hug.

When you still embrace him, you look up at Sae-byeok, a flicker of sadness was in your eyes. She’s sure of it. She has a hard time grasping your kindness and selflessness during rough times like this. Your gesture made her chest get this achy feeling again.

After the hug, you encourage him to practice on your old sketchpad that had only two of your past drawings on them from high school.

Once he gets busy unloading everything you got him on the floor, you pull Sae-byeok aside. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply that is a bad move on my end knowing what we went through last night. But I also have something for you and Ji-yeong too by the way.”

“What?”

Before she could process it, you usher her up the stairs to your small bed space. Due to the space being so small she had to duck her head and sit on the mattress, watching you rummage through your piles of knickknacks you haven’t yet organized.

You plop down next to her. Right next to her. Sae-byeok wasn’t used to feeling someone’s leg brush up right against hers. You uncurl your fingers to reveal a black woven rope bracelet on your palm and reach your hand out to her.

Sae-byeok bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t know if she can handle so much of your tender hearted acts when she doesn’t think she deserves even an ounce of it. However, it would be cruel to turn down this gesture so she reaches to take it.

“And can you give this to, Ji-yeong?” you ask and pull out a thin necklace with a small firefly pendant. Sae-byeok sighs, but nods and takes that too.

“Thank you.” Sae-byeok says, lowly.

“I just got one favor to ask.” you say with rapid fire speed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Can I paint you for my last project?”

Sae-byeok whips her head to look at you. She forgot the lack of personal space there was in between you two. “What?”

“Can…I paint you—“

“I heard you. But why me?” she asks, frowning.

“You have a unique face.” you answer simply but her face morphs into bewilderment.

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes are sharp and cool but your face shape is soft and delicate. You have great features for a standout portrait.” you explain with ease. Sae-byeok’s lip part slightly. No one ever talks about her looks, especially not so carefully thought out. “It’s the type of unique face that’s almost—hm…mythical.”

She scoffs at the sheer disbelief she’s feeling. “You’re just bluffing.”

“There’s no reason for me to do that. I had other people as options but you stood out the most.” you say, genuinely. “So, do I have permission?”

Sae-byeok blinks at you. The idea of you having to stare at her face and think about her features for hours is an unfathomable thought. But you appear to be dead set on this decision, you didn’t laugh or mock her to convince her.

“Okay.”

She stares down at the bracelet and fiddles with it, her eyes soften up.

Sae-byeok has a hard time understanding that there is beauty in this world. Growing up in the North only taught her how to fear, and once her managed to flee South she had to became a shell of a person. Cheol, for a long time, was her only light in this new isolated world. She remembers briefly being like her little brother when she was his age, timid and quiet but showed her love. But as the people in her life either died or failed to escape the North, she forgot what it was like to feel and give love.

She never had time to figure out who she was as a person. To her, it was a waste of time. It was better to guard herself from the outside world that was so cruel and unusual.

“Ji-yeong said you looked off this morning.” Sae-byeok says out of the blue, feeling courageous to let her guard down ever so slightly.

“Oh.” is all you said to her surprise.

With another pang of courage hitting her system, she tilts her head to look at you.

You’ve proved Sae-byeok wrong time and time again. She used to be so sure you weren’t this selfless person you presented yourself to be when you came to live in their apartment back in March. But she’s ashamed to admit that she was wrong about your character. Very wrong.

“You did a lot for me last night. I won’t forget it.” she says after more and more momentary silence.

“It’s not—“

“Quit being so selfless for once.” she says in annoyance. She straightens up her posture and exhales trying to gather her words. “Can—Can you look at me?”

Hesitantly, you do as she says. Your face screams of worry and fear.

“What’s wrong?” Sae-byeok barely manages to say while looking into your eyes. “Tell me.”

She feels vulnerable under your tender gaze, noticing that you were studying her facial features carefully. It takes everything in her not to break away.

“I feel sad.” you say, shakily. “I still can’t believe my parents let me go so easily...” your chest visibly heaving. Before your lips start trembling you glance away.

Sae-byeok gulps. Before her brain could start figuring out what to do next she hears Cheol’s footsteps. You both instinctively scoot farther away from each other and compose yourselves.

“Is everything okay?” you ask the boy when he appears from the top of the stairs. Sae-byeok heard the glumness you tried terribly to mask.

“I don’t know how to work this, Noona.” he pouts, holding out a set of watercolor paint.

“Here, I will show you.” you say and hurry to get off of your bed to lead Cheol back downstairs. “This is watercolor paint. It’s dried up right now because you need to activate it with water.”

When Sae-byeok knows you’ve made your way to the kitchen she lets out a set of groans and palms her face. She doesn’t know why she is so bad at this. Comforting—a complete mystery to her.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts

[fandoms-in-law]

Not Billy

Summary: Lucas makes the kids realise that while everyone talks about King Steve as if he was the same kind of high school bully as Billy, he definitely hadn't been. It sparks a quest to figure out who he actually had been.

Author's note; Only reason I'm posting this now is I'm currently against WIPs and have a fanfic writing month planned for February and started this one a couple weeks ago. If you want chapters, find it on AO3 please cause tired brain is not up for fighting tumblr on that currently.

/\

Steve was not Billy.

Everyone seemed to think that was an insult since Hargrove came to town, but Steve could not agree. He’d seen close enough to Billy his entire life, sometimes in his father, often in Tommy. He wasn’t surprised the boy that had been his best friend latched onto Billy so strongly.

Steve was not Billy, but he could tell people thought he was.

The first time he felt like pointing out he wasn’t Billy was to the other boy directly, but somehow the words never fit together in his head during those moments. Though Steve also noticed Billy deliberately tried to keep their interactions like that, all words and no giving Steve a moment to reply before Billy left. He didn’t worry about it much, as long as he and Nancy knew he wasn’t, it should be fine.

Perhaps it was because of the king nickname, everyone who had it must have been exactly like the current owner of it, so of course Steve was like Billy. Sometimes he thought goldfish must have better memories than the average high school student.

After Tina’s party and the bullshit speech Steve wondered at Nancy’s own forgetfulness over what were his actions, their choices and the actions of someone completely different to him. He was just glad that everything in the speech had at least been between them but the views didn’t fit from how he’d been viewing their relationship.

Billy was not Steve.

Now that was an insult which Max said precisely once.

He treasured the entire rant she’d gone on that day, coming into Scoops to have a break from home while the rest of the Party were busy. Robin had laughed like he’d been the one insulted and Max tore into her too, about how Steve was never Billy. If anyone knew just what she meant to be an insult or to be a comparison Steve came out on top of it was Max about her step-brother and Steve and she wasn’t going to let anyone laugh for the wrong thing.

Sometime after the fire to cover up the Russians and Mindflayer fight, Robin admitted she understood now what that sentence meant.

/\

Steve was never Billy.

Everyone remembered Billy and the hate he pushed through the school. They forgot that Steve was not Billy though, and hated him for someone he never had been. That often felt especially true about Mike out of all the kids Steve looked after now.

“Just shut up Steve, go back to being a douche somewhere else.” He scathingly called when Steve had been reminding the kids not to get into fights.

“He’s not Billy, Mike.” Lucas countered, glaring at his friend. “Stop acting like everyone that’s ever played basketball besides me is the same.”

Mike gestured over at Steve, “That guy? The former King of the school? You really expect me to believe he wasn’t-”

“He Wasn’t!” Max cut him off. “He’s the one who stopped Billy first of all of us when I was dragged into Hawkins mess and that’s after I’d had months of hearing the actual assholes Billy hung out with declaring him more fun than Harrington. More fun because he hated anyone like Lucas, and joked about assaulting the Byers if Jonathan hadn’t proven better than Harrington already. Plus what was Steve just doing that you needed to insult him over? Looking out for kids that don’t fit in because he wants us to be safe? You really think he could ever have been as bad as Billy?”

At the start of the rant Lucas had looked like he’d say more to argue with Mike too, but now he just crossed his arms in a gesture they all knew was learnt from Steve, waiting for Mike’s reply.

Mike deflated, facing them. “So what was Steve like?” He asked. “Because he definitely changed and gave up his popularity instead of keeping it.”

The trio exchanged looks, and a glance back to where Steve was still sat in his car, looking from them to the arcade he’d dropped them off at curiously before reversing the car when he saw them watching.

/\

Steve was not Billy but the kids now wanted to know who he was when he was King.

“Robin? Who was Steve in school?” Max asked, leading Lucas and Mike into Family Video when she’d seen Steve leave on his break.

Robin didn’t look up from where she was returning some videos to the shelves. “He ate bagels in class and dropped crumbs all over the floor.”

“Okay but who was he?” Mike repeated the question as if it was a demand.

“The guy most girls had crushes on.” She quipped, looking over now as if wondering what the point of asking was, “Honestly even after you guys arrived he was the main crush once the new kid fever died down.”

Max huffed at her, folding her arms. “That’s not who he was. Who was he?”

“Not a clue. I was not popular and tried not to pay attention to them at all.” Robin narrowed her eyes at them all, somewhere between concerned and curious over their focus. “What’s with all the Steve questions?”

“We want to know. All we know is that he wasn’t as bad as Billy.” Lucas explained with a shrug, showing he was actually interested and not just following his girlfriend and friend on the quest for answers.

Robin leant back, looking them over before suggesting, “Try asking Nancy. She dated him while he was King of the school, right?”

/\

Steve knew people had forgotten he wasn’t Billy. The kids were not enjoying finding that out.

“Nancy, what was it like to date Steve?” Max had dragged Lucas upstairs while their friends were setting up a game night in the Wheelers basement

Looking through a crack in her door, Nancy rolled her eyes. “Max, it’s cute you have a crush, but you’re not meant to ask that when your boyfriend is next to you.”

Lucas leant forward to stop the door being shut on them, “Oh no, I’m curious about your answer too.”

“Not the kid I thought would ask me about that. Why?” Nancy narrowed her eyes, before turning away, clearly deciding to avoid asking him about a possible crush.

“No reason.” When trying to decide if they actually should ask Nancy, Mike had made it clear they shouldn’t mention why they were asking, “Who did you think would ask?”

“None of you.” With that the door was shut on them and neither kid was ready to keep bugging Nancy over it just yet.

/\

Will had heard from Jonathan about the fight with Steve, and the apology that turned into fighting the demogorgon. He knew Steve was never Billy.

“You want me to ask Nancy what it was like to date Steve so you can find out what Steve was like when he was king of the school?” He looked at his three friends dubiously, shaking his head when they remained serious in their request. “You’re making this more convoluted than the puzzles I tried to create for campaigns.”

“We need to know!” Mike insisted.

Deciding not to question that again he decided to say what had come up with Jonathan while they were in California one of the times talking about dealing with high school. “Brash, quick with the easy insults and overly aware of how people around him got insulted so the people latched onto him to be popular too wouldn’t turn against him. Quick to try and apologise too when he went too far but kept apologies private as too many being known about apparently damages popularity. That’s what Jonathan said anyway.”

“Jonathan!” Max, Lucas and Mike yelled together, looking between themselves before turning as if to hurry out the door just as they heard someone approaching.

The kids were going to learn who Steve Harrington used to be, somehow.

“What’s with the shouting? Everything okay?” Jonathan asked, leaning around the door.

“Tell us who Steve used to be!” Max insisted, tugging him through.

“Nancy said a couple of you had a crush on him but this doesn’t seem like that.” Jonathanblinked at them, and made an amused noise when Will made a gesture as if saying he had no clue, “I’ll tell you what I remember but why?”

“Because Max insists he’s never been like Billy but all I know is that he was king of the high school too and everyone says he was a bully.” Mike rushed to get the words out.

Jonathan nodded at the explanation, moving to sit on Will’s bed, “Nah, the bullies were the people clamouring to be his friend. Let’s see…”

/\

Dustin heard what his friends were saying about Steve and he was going to get the best answers he could.

Thankfully a lot of college kids were in Hawkins to help their families rebuild and he recognised one face from lots of photos Steve pretended he no longer had.

“You’re Tommy Hagan?” He asked, squinting at the boy cleaning a car outside the address he was sure was correct. He couldn’t remember ever having met Tommy before so wasn’t sure if this was or was not the right person.

Tommy looked him over, gesturing down the road. “And you’re a twerp I don’t know. Move on, I’m busy.”

Dustin shook his head, moving closer. “No. You’re going to tell me about Steve Harrington.”

“Don’t know him any more. We lost touch. Go away.” The words were accompanied with an eyeroll hidden mostly as he leant over the car to wash the windscreen.

“Then tell me who he was when you did know him.” Dustin pushed, certain that it would work sooner than later.

“Why would I?” Tommy huffed, still focusing mostly on washing the car. “You’re a brat that didn’t even introduce yourself before demanding my attention.”

“I could get my friends to come and ask you questions with me or you can just tell me. I’m Dustin Henderson and I will do that.” Dustin offered, dropping his backpack to get his radio out.

“You carry a walkie talkie to call your little friends with?” Tommy said disbelieving. “Why is a nerd asking about Steve?”

Dustin didn’t move to radio anyone, just watching Tommy again, “Tell me about him and then I’ll tell you.”

/\

Steve wasn’t Billy and Tommy knew it. That why he didn’t panic at the sight of his car pulling up while he was still being interrogated by the kid.

“Henderson, we’ve been looking for you all over. What are you doing?” Steve called, walking around the car and only realising who Dustin was with after getting closer, “Tommy?”

“Hey Harrington, the twerp has been asking all about you. Still don’t know why.” He explained, pointing a thumb back at the kid and trying to sound annoyed by it. It was actually one of the more amusing things to happen since getting back from college so he wasn’t being as much of a dick as he would once have been.

Steve nodded, standing with his hands on his hips and looking to the kid expectantly. “Dustin, care to share?”

“Mike and Max had an argument and realised all they know about who you were is that you aren’t Billy. Them, Lucas and now Will and me decided we need to know.”He pulled a notebook out of the backpack, flicking through it as if checking notes.

“So you looked through my stuff and decided to find Tommy.” Steve surmised.

“Clearly.” Dustin had no shame about admitting that and Tommy was curious over what Steve would have kept that showed them together. “Everyone else wasn’t getting anywhere. Jonathan was the one who had the best information that shared it and I know he barely knew you.”

“He really had friends to call to increase how many were asking me questions?” Tommy muttered rounding the car to wash the other side as well as better watch his old friend and the weird kid. “Steve your kid is weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve agreed, before focusing on Dustin again, “Who else had they asked?”

“Robin and Nancy. Robin knew barely anything and apparently Nancy decided they were asking because of crushes on you.” Dustin promptly replied.

“What? Why? How…” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know what, thank you Tommy for entertaining this shithead. I’ll stop him giving you any more of a headache. Please tell Carol to call if he tries asking her about me next.” He started pushing Dustin to his car while calling over his shoulder.

Tommy laughed at the comment, “You don’t think I’ve given him enough details to stop this?”

“With these brats I’m not sure there is such a thing unless the subject they’re asking about tries to kill them. See ya.” Steve sounded like an exhausted parent as he spoke, fond but frustrated by his kids.

“See you around Harrington.”

/\

Carol had scales in high school over how rumours and views of the popular kids went and she could tell you with facts and figures how Steve was better or worse than Billy Hargrove over all of them. She could not however explain two girls inviting themselves into her home to ask about him.

“This is breaking in and I’m calling the police.” Carol stated, immediately going to her phone.

“Tell Hopper to pick us up in twenty and you can tell us about Steve until then.” The girl with red hair demanded, “I’m Max. That’s Hopper’s daughter El.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, turning to them in challenge, “The chief has a daughter since when?”

“We’re asking the questions.” Max insisted.

“Since 1983. He gives me waffles.” El added, “Steve does too. You can tell us about Steve.”

The subject the girls were pushing didn’t seem enough to break into her home over but Carol couldn’t see any cause that would be; either way she leant against the door and shook her head. “Not currently. You could do better since I’ve not spoken to him in a few years.”

“High school Steve.” Max snapped, “Who was he?”

Thinking for a moment, Carol let out a heavy breath and turned to leave the room, “I’ll get the scales, if it will make you leave.”

While she was upstairs she heard Tommy calling, “Hey Carol, you left your door- Why are there two kids here?”

“To ask about Harrington apparently.” She yelled back.

“I’ll call him.” The certainty in that decision made her pause, moving back to the top of the stairs curiously.

“Why?”

“Just had the same thing happen and he interrupted the kid that found me. Said to tell you to call if that kid came here, but I guess any kid counts.” Tommy half shook his head before glancing behind him, “Names?”

Carol blinked twice, “They said they’re Max and El.”

“Thanks, what are you doing?” Tommy finished dialling the number neither of them would forget, but carried on chatting with Carol as if the kids weren’t watching them.

“Digging out the scales.” Tommy laughed at the comment, remembering when Carol had decided to make them and how she argued they were better than guys making similar scales because they weren’t frivilously given or constantly used to hurt.

As she finished finding the scales and gathered only the relevant ones to Steve together she could hear Tommy’s side of the call happening. “Hey Steve, sorry, but a Max and El are at Carol’s. Yes, that’s why. No, I don’t know that. Fine, see you soon.”

“Did you have to call him? He’s going to lecture us again.” Max complained, just as Carol started bringing things downstairs.

“Seems like you need that.” Carol remarked, debating if it was worth the annoyance of the chief to call the police on his daughter.

El had a stare that seemed to dissect Tommy when she directed it at him before asking, “You are Steve’s friend?”

“Sure, or I was once.” He agreed easily.

She nodded as if that explained everything. “Friends don’t lie. Of course he called.”

“Er, yeah,” Max frowned a little, glaring at Carol and Tommy’s scoffing, “We’re going to have to go over how things really are for most people at some point.”

“What’s this all over anyway?” Carol asked, placing the things she’d fetched on the coffee table.

Max went straight to looking through the folders. “Steve isn’t Billy but everyone seems to remember him acting just like him. I want to know who Steve was.”

Tommy laughed then, grabbing one folder right out of Max’s hand, “Came to the right place for facts then.”

“And to attack you.” She continued, vehemently glaring at him and snatching the folder back.

He took a step back, sharing a startled glance with Carol over the threat. “Um, what? Kid, I was Steve friend remember.”

“And Billy’s.” She countered, “You came round enough I know it.”

“Read this.” Carol quickly opened a folder and flicked through a notebook to shove it at Max, “Tommy shut up before she tries to. I won’t stop her.”

“Carol!” He protested.

/\

Eddie had known Steve wasn’t Billy.

He really wasn’t happy that the kids decided to learn who Steve actually used to be the weekend he’d finally got the courage to ask for a date.

“Am I TPK-ing the party or cancelling movie nights?” He yelled through the house, not caring that everyone that could be directed to were in the front room and easily seen, “Hi Perkins, I got out before Steve parked. He’ll be yelling to himself for a few minutes.”

“You can’t cancel movie nights!” Max yelled back.

“I can, Mayfield. You interrupted when I told all of you not to.” Eddie insisted, meeting her glare with one of his own. “Did you really worry about Steve’s lecture but not me?”

El stepped between them, “We want to know.”

“El, going behind someone’s back and doing your shit to track down their old friends is not how you learn this shit.” Eddie countered, eyes narrow and only turning to look over the room after finishing that sentence. They he burst out laughing at the scales Carol had out, “Although, Perkins, how did you make popularity nerdy? Is this an insult dictionary attached to it too? Professional Ice Queen turns people into maths. Not something I expected.”

Carol scoffed, tossing her hair back, “Why are you here, Freak?”

“Because we had a date and I decided not to leave El unsupervised. She’s reacted without thinking too many times.” Steve came in saying, grinning as he saw what was out, “Hey Carol, you kept all that stuff?”

“Yes, when did you figure out you could date guys too? There are bets that need settling.” She began, only to notice Eddie had somehow got the notebook detailing those bets in his hands now.

He glanced over at Steve shaking his head. “Don’t answer that. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Who?” Steve leant over his shoulder to see who would win if he answered truthfully, “Oh yeah, um who do we think does? Tommy, thoughts?”

“Any of the cheerleaders updated their bet to be within reason?” Tommy mused, looking the pair over, “Guessing since Munson is here you don’t want the basketball team to win.”

Eddie tapped a name in the book, “Robin is on the list, Steve.”

“She is? Bitch, when did she place that?” Steve burst out laughing and taking the notebook from Eddie, “And why hasn’t she mentioned it like ever?”

Carol took it from him almost immediately, “After the Halloween break-up and another band kid placed it for her. Apparently Buckley mentioned her guess when complaining about bagels or something and he thought getting her to win would get him a date.”

“Thanks Carol, so we’re saying she got it right.” Steve decided, nodding to Eddie and Tommy.

“How?” Tommy asked finally able to see when Robin’s bet was placed for. “Weren’t you working in the mall then?”

El and Max had moved to the door while the older teens had been distracted talking about the bet, “Hey Steve. We’re just going to go. Let you two head back to your date, stop asking these two our questions. That’s what you want right?”

“No movie night for two weeks like Eddie said-” He began.

Max was quick to protest, “He didn’t say two weeks!”

“But after that, Carol, Tommy, Eddie, Jonathan and I will recount the time of King Steve. Then you will all drop it.” Steve finished stating what would happen over their and Dustin’s meddling with his old friends. “Also what the hell did you say to Nancy? Dustin just said she wouldn’t tell you anything.”

“Asked what it was like to date you.” She admitted uncaring, “Thought that would be what she remembers most so she’d answer it.”

If Steve had been drinking something he would have choked but as it it is he just coughed once and pointed insistently at the girl, “Okay and after that, Max, you specifically need to get to know Nance cause that says you know barely anything about her currently.”

El started pulling Max out straight away, “Bye Steve. We’ll go see the Wheelers now.”

“El!” Max fought to remain and argue.

“Bye El, Don’t scream at her on the street Max!” Steve waved after his kids, before turning back to the conversation they’d begun, “Now yes, Robin’s bet is for when we worked at Scoops so her incessant teasing over striking out made me try flirting with some guy that came in and I found that was just as much fun and easier given how horrible that hat was.”

Carol raised an eyebrow at him, “And when is she meant to get her winnings?”

“That gathering to satisfy the shitheads curiosity.” He decided, “I’ll tell her it’s a bribe to not go off on a rant about bagels or you’ll tell the guy who placed a bet for her that she won.”

“Do I need to update the dictionary over that?” The question was asked while she picked up said book.

Steve pushed her hand back to the coffee table. “I really don’t want you to so am not going to explain it. And if she offers to, I’m telling that guy she won.”

“Harsh.” Tommy snickered.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Like I wouldn’t also be threatening him for being such a prick at the same time.”

“Kids have stopped, you’ve decided who won the Steve likes guys too bet, can we go back to our movie date at yours now?” Eddie asked, looking around the group.

Carol nodded, waving towards the door. “Yes do. Harrington, get out and take Munson with you.”

“Bye, I’ll call you both about when that evening’s happening.” Steve waved over his shoulder as he was tugged out of Carol’s house now.

Steve made one small error in letting the kids investigate how who he’d been early in high school differed from Billy Hargrove. He let Carol and Tommy get to his house early to talk with him Robin and Eddie. Now there was a whiteboard stood in his living room, giant paper hung over it and his four friends were dissecting not just who he’d been but who he was today.

None of them were actually being flattering at all, even if he could see the positive attributes getting written down.

[terrortwinunicorn]

The One With The Wedding

Narrator's POV

The following day, Luis and y/n had left to go get their marriage license. Meanwhile, Demi and Matt stayed back at the house, setting up and waiting for Joshua Fatu and the few friends and family members they called to be their guests to arrive.

Joshua dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, pink and blue sneakers, and a blazer knocked on the door, being the first to arrive. He rang the doorbell, and Demi answered with a huge smile on her face.

"I barely understood your message on the phone. What's this about y/n and Luis getting married?" he inquired, as Demi stepped aside allowing Josh into the house.

"They decided to not waste anymore opportunities and get married as soon as possible. They want you to marry them," explains Demi "They went to town hall to get their license."

"Alright, but did they want to get married today?" asks Josh.

Demi nods gently with a huge smile on her lips. "Yup!" she giggles. "Matt and I are decorating and setting up the chairs outside by the pool," as Matt came into the living room.

"Josh can I get some help," asked Matt as he joined them "Setting up some chairs pool side where Luis and y/n want to get married."

"Of course uce," smiles Josh as he took off the suit jacket tossing it over the back of the sofa following Matt pool side.

The doorbell rings again and Demi answered it. It was Luis's brother Alex who had gone to grab the food they ordered.

"I picked up the sub and wrap trays, and then I also got chips, a couple of vegetable trays, a couple of fruit trays, some different pre-made salads, cookies, and a sheet cake, as well as drinks, but I need help carrying all of it in," Alex says, pointing over his shoulder at his car.

"MATT. JOSH. We need to bring the food in," yells Demi.

Matt and Josh came in from outside as Jonathan Fatu and his wife Trinity walked up the sidewalk.

"What's going on?" asked Trinity as everyone piled out of the house.

"Bringing the food Alex picked up in," said Josh as Jonathan and Trinity turn and walks with the group.

"Talk about a village," said Trinity as she grabs the cake that Alex had the bakery write Congratulations Luis and y/n in purple and black.

"Hey when my best friends say they wanna get married asap I'm gonna make sure that they have an amazing wedding," said Demi "They gave me thirty six hours and well I was able to get everything together."

"Steven is getting our parents, step dad, sister, brother in law, niece and nephew from the airport," smiled Alex as he hands Matt the sub and wrap trays as Jonathan got the vegetable trays and Josh grabbed the fruit trays as Demi grabs the drinks as a car pulled up behind Alex's SUV. More people got out.

"Need help?" asked Charlie as he shut his driver's side door.

Demi hands him the drinks that were in her hands. She grabbed the salads as more cars arrived in front of Luis and y/n's house. Steven got out of an SUV before opening the passenger side doors for his mom, Diana, and sister, Tanya.

"What else needs to be done?" asked Sam, Charlie's wife.

"We have to still decorate the house," said Demi as they all walked into the house everyone having something in their hands.

"Set up chairs," said Matt, and Josh.

"Where's Luis and y/n?" asked Diana.

"Getting their marriage license," explained Demi.

Damian's POV

Y/N and I are heading home after obtaining our marriage license. I was in the driver's seat as Y/N sat in the passenger seat watching out the window.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I inquire.

She turned her head to me, a smile on her face.

"Just thinking. By the end of today I will be Mrs. y/n Martínez."

I grin as I take her hand in mine before bringing it to my lips, kissing the back of it.

"And honestly I can't wait to say you're my wife," I smile. "And I can't wait for tonight," I smirk.

She blushes lightly. "Remember we will have house guests," she teased.

"I accept the challenge," I chuckle.

She smiles as she shakes her head, "Luis, I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with you," she murmured.

“Well, first you say 'I do' to me. Then we dance and eat. We tell everyone to get lost, and we then have the entire house to ourselves. After that, we christen every inch of our house in newlywed bliss.”

"You do know Demi already told us we have one day off from telling the Angelo and Ginger wedding story," she giggles" I will still have to have a voice."

"I mean, I could easily just tell them about the welcome party," I smirk, wiggling my eyebrows.

"You're awful," she teased "It does suck that your family, Charlie and Sam can't stay longer."

"They dropped everything to fly down for the day to be here," I pointed out.

"I know that," she says "And that means the world to me."

"Me too. But look at it this way down the line we can throw a kick ass party celebrating this," I smile.

"I do like that. Especially since not everyone could make it on thirty-six hours' notice," she points out.

"True. I'm glad Misty and Nate are here for the birth of Ashlyn and Max's daughter," I said.

She nods, "Well, since Ash's mom is now gone, Misty is her only mom." She smiles as I pull into our gated community. Pulling up to our house, we see all the cars of our loved ones.

Y/N smiles at me, "Ready, mi amor?" I question, taking her hand in mine as I pull into our driveway. She nods.

"Let's get married," she smiles.

"Yes," I smile as we got out of the car before we are both engulfed by our guests. Demi, Trinity, Sam, my sister Tanya, Mama and Misty whisk y/n out of my sight "But?!" My pops, brothers, brother in law, Charlie, Jonathan, Josh, Matt and Nate stop me from following "Guys come on let me go."

"Sorry, we are more afraid of the women than we are of you," Alex laughed. "Come on, we have your clothes in the guest room.

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Narrator's POV

"Next time you guys want me to follow just ask. No need to kidnap me," y/n laugh lightly.

"We didn't kidnapping you," smiles Demi as she sat her in front of her vanity "We are simply getting you ready for your wedding ceremony."

Y/N glances in the mirror at Demi, "You know I can easily get myself ready right?"

"Nonsense," laughs Misty, "When will we have another opportunity to get you dolled up like this?"

Y/N rolls her eyes. "You do know ninety-nine point nine percent of the time when it's Luis and I, he doesn't see me in makeup, and when he does, it's simple minus my bold red lip."

"Well, it's not just Luis and you, y/n," Demi smiles as she drops to her knee beside y/n, looking in the mirror at y/n.

"I'm well aware of that Demi," sighs y/n "But please make me still look like me."

"Promise," smiles Tanya "Even if I have to smack everyone. You will still be you."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," laughs Trinity. "Remember, I will help slap people."

Y/N laughs lightly as she turned in the chair, looking at the women who surrounded her: from Misty, who means the most to her, seeing as she is family, to Diana and Tanya, who by the end of the day will be family, Demi and Trinity, who are her sisters by different misters, and Sam, who has quickly become a close confidant and friend.

"Okay, let's get me ready," she smiles before the women smile, and Trinity and Demi both squeal in delight, making y/n shake her head and slightly regret saying let's get me ready.

Meanwhile, in another part of the house, the men are having a glass of whiskey. Luis was smartly dressed in Y/N's favorite suit: his black suit and purple dress shirt. Luis Senior placed the boutonniere into the lapel of the jacket.

"Ahí está, hijo mío, estás listo para casarte," smiles Luis Senior. (There it is, my son, you are ready to get married)

Luis smiles at his father and says, "Gracias, pops. I can't wait to be married," he smiles broadly.

Luis Senior cups Luis's cheek and says, "I'm so proud of you, mi hijo. I am so happy for you. Y/N is amazing, and your mother and I love her so much. We are so happy you two found each other nearly thirty-three years ago, and we are so happy that she's joining our family officially."

Luis chuckles, "Thanks, pops. Just have one regret." He waves the hand with the whiskey glass in it. "And that's I didn't tell y/n sooner I loved her. Just think this could be a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary if I had found a set and told y/n the night of my senior prom." He took a swig of whiskey before looking at the men before him. His pops, brothers, brother-in-law, best friend, three men who started as co-workers but quickly became soul brothers and Nate, his soon-to-be cousin "Let's get me married off, boys," he raised his glass.

Demi walked into the small lounge that Luis and the other men were in. "She's ready, and she's going to take your breath away," she smiled at Luis.

Luis let out a low and slow shaky breath. He had been basically preparing for this day, that y/n walked into her great aunt and great uncle's place as Francesca was preparing him lunch while she babysat him that July second day in 1993.

"Then let's get me married off," says Luis as all the men polish off the whiskey they had.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

Luis stood at the top of the aisle with Josh to his right and Charlie, Alex, and Steven on his left. He looked out at the guests who had joined them awaiting the arrival of y/n.

"You good uce?" whispered Josh as he leaned into him.

Luis nods "Fine," he smiles as Vivaldi: The Four Seasons, Violin Concerto in E Major began. Tanya began the walk down the aisle followed Misty and then Demi. Once Demi made it to the top of the aisle. Matt changed the selection to Wedding Melody: Bridal Chours /Wedding March- Traditional Version by Jim Brickman. Luis exhales as y/n came to the top of the aisle on Nate's arm as everyone rose to their feet. She wore a lilac capped sleeve dress with an A-line skirt. It's one of Luis's favorites.. He smiles as their eyes met. Y/N has tears in her eyes and Luis wipes away a few of his own before crossing his hands in front of him as y/n and Nate walk down the aisle.

Damian's POV

Y/N and Nate made it to the end of the aisle. They stood side by side as Josh took a deep breath before...

"Family and Friends," he says, "We are gathered here today to join Luis Berrios Martínez Junior and y/n y/m/n y/l/n in holy matrimony. If anyone can show just cause as to why they should not be wed, please let them speak now or forever hold their peace." When no one objected and even if they did, they would have probably been thrown into the pool by Demi and Trinity. "Please be seated," Josh gestures to have everyone sit. Once they did, he pressed forward, "Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?"

"I do," said Nathaniel as he shakes my hand before giving me y/n's hand. He sat beside Matt.

Y/N and I face Josh "Luis, do you take y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," I smile as I wipe away a stray tear falling down my cheek.

"Y/N, do you take Luis to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?" says Josh.

"I do," says y/n, her voice choked with emotion.

"Now as I understand you two have written your own vows," says Josh, "Thank God because vows are a lot of words and this uce doesn't have time for that," making all of us laugh "Okay, now turn to one another, and when you're ready, start your vows."

I pull a small notebook from my suit jacket pocket before opening it and looking at it, but I decide to put it back and wing it. Taking y/n's hands in mine, I exhale slowly before I begin. My eyes meet y/n's as I begin to speak.

"Y/N, when we met on July second, nineteen ninety-three, when you walked into the kitchen of your great aunt Francesca and great uncle Salvatore's, I was taken aback even at ten. I was basically brand new to the country even though I was born here. I remember Miss Frankie saying, 'Luis, this is my niece Y/N, she's staying here this summer.' I smile at the memory as y/n reached up and wiped away my tears before cupping my cheek and caressing it with the side of her thumb as I press forward. "I was shy, and so were you, as you gave me a small wave and a very quiet Hi. I shyly waved back, and I was even quieter in my Hola. Then Mrs. Frankie explained to you that I had just moved back to New York from Puerto Rico, and my first language is Spanish, but I knew some English."I laughed lightly, "Who knew that day would spark a friendship and love that has lasted for the better part of nearly thirty-three years? Now today, as we stand here exchanging vows, I thank my lucky stars you took a chance on a shy kid from Puerto Rico." I smiled, and how you sat with me so patiently teaching me English, even if I did butcher it in the beginning. Reading Dr. Seuss was fun, and I still don't want green eggs and ham," y/n giggles lightly, nodding in agreement. "But as the years past like years tend to do. My love and appreciation for you grew and I looked forward to those summers when you would come to the Bronx for your yearly visits. Then as we became teenagers I knew my heart had found the piece that fit perfectly into it. That piece was you and yes it took too many years for me to realize my missing piece was you," 'too many' says Demi from beside y/n. Making all of us smile "Yes, too many, but when I did, I didn't want to waste another minute without you by my side. And now today, as you take my last name, if I could tell ten-year-old me, you did find the happily ever after your mom always wished for, and that happily ever after begins and ends with your best friend in the world. Te amo mucho, mi vida hermosa. Siempre y para siempre."

Everybody wipes away tears as y/n looks at me with tears falling down her face, yet smiling. I reach up, cupping her cheek as I wipe away the tears.

"Great, now I have to follow that," she laughs lightly. "As if public speaking didn't scare me to the core of my soul. Now I have to follow that? Thanks, amor," she teased.

I chuckled "I'm sorry amor," I smile as I press a kiss to her forehead "Just keep your eyes on me and everything will be fine."

She nods as she looked at me and only me. She let out a slow and steady breath before she began, "Luis. The day we met in Aunt Frankie and Uncle Sal's kitchen was a day that I will never forget. I wore a pale blue sun dress and wore my hair in pigtails, and you wore a red and white raglan t-shirt and dark blue jeans. You wore your black hair in a bowl cut. But I will have to freely admit I had the worst case of puppy love. When you smiled at me, I could swear I was an instant ten-year-old puddle of goo. That first summer, the language barrier was tough, but we managed to understand each other without talking." She smiles as she holds my hands as she presses on, "The next year we talked a mile a minute to one another; at least we did according to Aunt Frankie." I laughed, as did y/n. "We met in the summer of nineteen ninety-three, and my heart went boom when I walked into that room." I smirked because, of course, she worked in Hamilton lyrics. She giggled and nodded, and without exchanging a single word, she knew I was asking her if she really just worked Hamilton into her vows "While the years passed, our friendship and love grew into something that neither one of us could explain. Something that both of us knew was something special," she let go of one of my hands, wiping away tears. "And as we loved others, no one ever compared to each other. You were my one and only. My penguin. My rock lobster," I laughed. "Now, as we stand here in front of our loved ones and each other, as we exchange vows and pledge our love to one another, if I could tell ten-year-old me that the boy who captured your heart has the key to it and will be your forever permanent best friend. And as we start this next chapter, I don't want to waste another minute. Te amo mi amor. Siempre y para siempre," she finishes as tears fell for everyone.

"Not bad for us just winging it," I whispered, making her giggle.

"Yeah," she replied.

"The rings, please," says Josh as Charlie and Demi both give him rings. "This ring represents the love between the two of you. No beginning and no end. Now Luis, put this ring on y/n's left hand," he hands me y/n's wedding band, "and repeat after me.."

"Y/N. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness." I slipped the black gold band onto her left hand, my smile stretching from ear to ear as her eyes focus solely on me.

Josh grins softly as he hands Y/N my ring. "Y/N, place this ring on Luis's left hand and repeat after me..."

"Luis. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness," she says as tears fell and her voice full of emotion as she slid the black gold ring onto my finger.

We smile as we turn to Josh, as he smiles, "What God has joined together let no man put asunder. By the power invested in me by the great state of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Luis, you may now kiss your wife." I smile, cupping y/n's face as I lean down, pressing my lips to y/n's. The kiss was sweet and soft. "It's my pleasure to present to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Luis and y/n Martínez Junior."

We turned to our guests. Our fingers laced together as we raised our hands as everyone stood and applauded as Matt began the Wedding March/Recessional by Mendelssohn. We headed back up the aisle as we walked into the house. I led y/n into my office, shutting the door. Sealing us off from the world for a few minutes.

"Hey Mrs. Martínez. We're married!" I exclaim, laughing, wrapping my arms around her waist as she lazily wraps her arms around my neck.

"Yes we are Mr. Martínez," she grins standing on tip toe pecking my lips "And I cannot wait to begin this next adventure with you."

"Neither can I amor," I smile as I pressed my lips against hers. Wrapping my arms tightly around y/n pulling her flush to my body. We share a deep and passionate kiss until.....

"LUIS! Y/N! WHERE DID YOU GO?" yells Demi.

I smirked against y/n's lips before breaking the kiss. "We better head back to our guests," I said as I rested my forehead against hers.

She nods softly, "Yeah. Because the faster we celebrate this, the faster we can get everyone to leave because I wanna show my husband my appreciation," she smirks as she caresses my cheek.

We leave the office and celebrate well into the night with our family and friends before they leave me alone with my wife. With one warning from Demi. 'Don't sleep in too long. Matt and I will be back for you to finish the story.'

But for tonight, it belongs to y/n and me, and all we had between us was air and time.

Tag List: @eringobragh420 @magicalbuttertarts @madhatterbri @keekee-23 @loki69zowens @caramara3 @bloodlinesbabe93 @miss-kuki-nz @surdelcielo

Remember please if you want to be tagged comment. This was just posted on Wattpad but with tomorrow being Royal Rumble and I have to watch on my good phone and I use it to transfer and write (the old one is only used for Tumblr lol) here is the latest in the Another Story Time series!!!

[wolftheidioticfan]

OH holy shit that is deeply tragic I need to pull the brakes before I become irreversibly sad for the rest of the night

[opens-up-4-nobody]

The way that the sun hits leaves and clouds. I feel like I could watch the colors change forever. If I could slow down for that long.

[jackienautism]

im just bitter but the next time i see someone refeer to kaitlyn as "the normal one" is the day i finally kill

[narugen]

can i be negative i’m going to be negative in tags

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x

[medicinemane]

.

[29121996]

.

[phantomrose96]

Anyway Mouthwashing spoilers

I'm turning Curly over in my head for the narrative punishment he's put through. Like you could you COULD interpret him as a pure victim, framed for Jimmy's crime and forced to suffer in skinless silence while his assailant gets to assume his role but it's more than that, to me. It's not just Jimmy bad Curly good. It's Curly's enablement of Jimmy that sets all of this in motion and, now, how will you take Responsibility, Curly?

It's Curly's "I've known Jimmy a long time. He'll listen to me." It's Curly's brand of leadership that hinges more on being seen as a good leader than on actually taking action. Because being seen as a good leader requires everyone to like him and that's more important to him than actually protecting Anya from Jimmy.

You could say "Jimmy just had everyone fooled into thinking he was a decent guy" except no you can't, because Anya hid the gun from him knowing Jimmy may go ballistic learning she's pregnant with his baby. And she hides the gun because Curly wouldn't. "Why do they have locks on medbay and the cockpit but not in the sleeping quarters?" Anya asks to Curly. Curly knows Jimmy raped Anya but his brand of I Need To Be Liked leadership asserts that Jimmy deserves a seat at the table of this solution. Curly won't do anything. He won't do anything even when he says he'd do anything.

And this is even after Jimmy tore into Curly with left-field accusations about the crew being laid off being something Curly wanted. All the evidence we have says the whole crew is being let go, Curly along with everyone, but Jimmy turns on him and makes it out like Curly wanted this and Curly is the enemy to everyone else on the ship. Curly won't stand up for himself. He won't shut Jimmy down. Swansea holds onto the axe because when locked up the axe requires the Captain to unlock, and maybe Swansea recognizes he's on a ship with a Captain who would not use the axe on the man who needs it.

Curly never wanted anything bad to happen. He never tried to hurt anyone. He never crashed the ship. But he's the one person who could have shut Jimmy down for every horrible sign and action along the way and he didn't he didn't he didn't he didn't. And the very first time he tries to intervene is when it's too little too late. HE gets eviscerated. He gets all his skin burned off. Because of what Jimmy did, but because of what Curly allowed.

And now his chance to act as Captain is gone. His chance to do right is gone. Jimmy is captain now and everyone who knows he's a monster is no longer capable of acting against him. And now skinless voiceless eternally watching, Curly has to lie in his own blood and bear witness to what Jimmy is doing, to everything he enabled. At Jimmy's mercy now like all the others, who physically beats him now and who is there to stand up for Curly? Enable. Enable enable enable.

[gloomwitchwrites]

For call of duty, can you write how 141 would react to you coming home after being announced KIA?

Love your work btw ❤️❤️

Not gonna lie, anon, but I genuinely read this as us reacting to the 141 coming home after being announced KIA, not them reacting to us coming home. I literally dumped everything I had planned and redid it because I missed that ONE word. (oops). Still, it's an emotional one. Your tears fuel me. :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Task Force 141!f!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): angst, reunions, fluff, kissing, secret relationship, established relationship, grief/loss, swearing, mild humor, suggestive themes, mild sexual content

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

Reality isn’t fair. It’s not kind or forgiving.

A week gone and John is simply floating, going through the motions, simply existing. This is why you don’t date military while in the military. It’s shit like this. It’s being told the person you love is fucking dead and now you’re the one left to pick up the pieces.

There wasn’t even a body. Vaporized is what they told him. Instant and painless. You felt nothing. It’s a small comfort, but John would rather have you in his arms than knowing you’re nothing more than atoms.

He sighs, and then puffs on his cigar. Smoke curls around him. It’s all quiet on base. Everyone is gone other than the routine patrol. John sits alone in his office, looking for files for an upcoming mission.

There’s a soft knock on is office door.

“Come in,” he says, not knowing who it might be but it must be important for it to be this late.

The door clicks and then creaks as it opens. John glances up, the cigar halfway to his mouth before the world around him completely stutters to a halt.

A phantom—a vaporized phantom—stands just inside, one hand on the doorknob. You are unharmed—clean. No scratches or wounds that John can see and wearing civilian clothing.

John is already standing, already moving, unable to resist the urge to remain in his chair and write this all off as a delusion. The cigar is forgotten, probably burning a hole in the wood of his desk. You match the forward momentum, shutting the office door, reaching out to him. When his arms go around you, and pull you in, John realizes that this is not an illusion. You are real and alive and here.

“You’re dead,” he murmurs, disbelief in his tone.

“I know. And I’m so sorry. It wasn’t—”

John grasps the back of your neck in a harsh hold, pulling you in for a kiss. He silences your voice, only needing your warmth and taste. You melt for him perfectly, answering the kisses with your own. With a gruff groan, John presses you up against the closed door.

“John,” you mumble, pulling back slightly.

“How are you here?”

“I’m sorry. We had to. It was the only way to extract me safely.”

John presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in. “Never again. Promise me.”

“Promise, John.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

One. Two. Three.

The seconds tick by, and still, Kyle refuses to move. For the last two weeks, Kyle has been cold and distant, sitting in the recliner in the corner of the living room.

He doesn’t read, doesn’t return the numerous missed calls and text messages, and he doesn’t turn on the television. He just sits, staring off into space, unable to figure out where his life will go next.

Why you? Why are you gone and not him?

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. You should be alive and whole and happy. You should be home, wrapped in Kyle’s arms.

Kyle sighs, running his hands over his face. An overwhelming wave of grief bubbles up, threatening to rip a sob from him. Leaning forward, Kyle rests his elbows on his knees, cradling his face in his hands. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. The wave crashes against his resolve, eroding some of the numbness.

The coffin is empty. No body to bury. He still hasn’t contacted your family. He can’t do it. Can’t face them. That fact that he is here and you are not is a failure on his part. Kyle promised that he’d look after you, and now you’re gone.

Around him, the air stirs—shifts. Kyle rubs at his face, sudden awareness slipping in. There’s an anticipation in it—a tension.

“Kyle.”

That voice. He knows that voice.

Shaking his head, Kyle keeps his face covered, his breathing becoming ragged.

“You’re not real,” he gasps.

Phantom fingers lightly brush across the back of palm, traveling to his wrist. Another set join them, and two warm hands gently wrap around his wrists. They tug, and Kyle surrenders, glancing up at the delusion his consciousness is creating.

Your smile is a beacon in the dark. It is everything he’s dreamed up these aching days, only wanting to see you again. And this is no dream, this is the waking world—reality. Somehow, you are standing before him, grasping his wrists, smiling down at him with such happiness that Kyle doesn’t entirely understand how this could be possible.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Kyle.”

He’s standing, wrapping you up in his arms. There is no mistake. You are here. You are here.

Kyle murmurs your name over and over again like a mantra. He touches you everywhere, needing to know that every inch of you is real and not a figment of his imagination. You curl against him, tears forming, threatening to fall and stain your cheeks. Kyle kisses them away, grasping the sides of your face to steal your breath.

You melt beneath him, and Kyle’s only desire is to keep you near him, to relearn your every moan and whisper. He can get answers later. Later. Right now, you are here, you have returned to him, and that is enough.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny made the choice, and now he has to live with the consequences.

It’s his own fault for caring about you, for deciding that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He should have found a civilian. That way they’d be mourning him and not him mourning you.

Three months and the missive still burns a hole in his chest. It’s folded up nicely, faded and worn from him unfolding and refolding it, tucked into an inside pocket beneath his bulletproof vest. It’s right over his heart. Right where you should be. Right where you belong.

The missive doesn’t belong to Johnny. It’s addressed to Captain Price, but the man handed it over to him, because he knew—even though Johnny did his best to hide it. He didn’t want to share what he had with you with anyone. That was just for the two of you.

“You all right, Soap?”

Simon’s voice cuts through the static.

“I’m aces, Lt. Don’t worry about me.”

The words feel false on Johnny’s tongue. He hates lying—but he especially hates lying to Simon.

Even behind the balaclava, Johnny can sense Simon’s frown. But the big bloke says nothing, appearing content with his answer.

“Price wants you in Conference Room B.”

“Now?” asks Johnny. “We’re supposed to transfer out in a few.”

Simon shrugs. “He didn’t say much. Just said he needed to talk to you before we leave.”

Johnny sighs but he goes, patting Simon’s arm before jogging to one of the main buildings. It’s inconvenient—and Price could have just met him on the fucking tarmac.

“What do you need, Captain?” says Johnny, pushing open the door.

Captain Price stands just inside the doorway. And he’s not alone.

At first, Johnny doesn’t understand. It’s like all but one singular bulb has been extinguished, the remaining light illuminating the one ghost in the room. Because that’s what you are. A ghost. Unreal and ethereal. Not reality at all but a simple hope in the back of Johnny’s mind that has finally blossomed into delusion.

“Soap.” Price’s voice is gruff. He sighs and then takes a step away from you. “I’ll leave the two of you to it.”

He brushes past Johnny, lightly squeezing his shoulder as he makes his exit.

And Johnny does not move. He stands in the doorway like a bloody git, unable to understand how you’re standing before him.

You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead.

Your smile is hesitant at first, your movements even more so. It’s a tentative walk to him, and you don’t touch, you only gaze at him, eagerness and hope in your eyes.

“Johnny,” you breathe, and he knows that voice.

So crisp and clear and real.

Johnny reaches out, and pinches. He pinches your arms, your waist, your cheeks.

“Ow,” you laugh. “What the hell?”

You are not cold, but warm. Solid.

Johnny laughs in disbelief. “Had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

Your arms go around him and suddenly, like a firework bursting with color, Johnny is happy and whole.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shuts the front door and frowns.

Whenever Simon comes home, Bravo always greets him. The all-black German Shepherd is a singular ball of energy, turning in quick circles and tap tap tapping his paws against the hardwood in anticipation of back scratches and belly rubs.

For the past week, Bravo’s presence has been the one bright thing, the only bit of happiness keeping Simon going. The rest of it was snatched from him, torn apart and shattered, scattered to the wind. The letter is tucked inside the drawer of the bedside table. He only read it once. And once was enough.

You are dead. That’s what the letter says anyway. And it infuriates him more than anything. Every mission you’ve ever been on has been with Simon. Except this last one. And on this last one, you did not come home.

“Bravo!” shouts Simon, dropping his keys in the designated spot next to the front door.

Removing his coat, he hangs it up, and then kicks off his sneakers. Sighing loudly, Simon heads down the hall but Bravo does not emerge. Simon pokes his head into the living room and finds no dog. Kitchen, and still nothing. He even checks the backyard. No Bravo.

As Simon turns into the bedroom, he comes to an abrupt halt.

There’s Bravo on the bed, and sitting on the edge—

“You—”

You hold the letter in your hands, attention turning to Simon as he enters. Standing quickly, you extend the arm holding the letter while you bring a singular finger to your lips, implying silence.

Simon’s stomach flips, and then twists quickly. He moves across the room a couple strides, grasping your waist and pulling you close. He says nothing, only searching your face as you keep that finger pressed to your lips.

You flip the letter over to the blank side.

Compromised.

Everything clicks into place. Either you faked your death or someone lied.

Simon cups the side of your face as you drop your finger away from your lips. His mouth replaces, tasting and seeking, wanting to remember. You open for him, accepting it all. His hands tighten on your waist and it takes every ounce of Simon’s control to not throw you onto the bed and rut like an untamed beast.

But he does refrain.

Simon has the car loaded and the alarm system armed in ten minutes. Even on the road, Simon doesn’t speak. He’s not sure if he can. All he does is keep his hand on your thigh, squeezing tightly, attempting to ground himself and keep his focus on the road.

At the safehouse, Bravo takes off, running through the tall grass as you and Simon enter the barn through a small side door. The moment the bags are dropped onto the floor, Simon is on you, fisting your clothes, tugging at them in a need to seem them gone.

“Simon,” you groan against his mouth.

He wants answers. He needs to know what happened. But reconnecting with you is far more urgent.

“After,” he begs. “Please.”

You nod, understanding.

The two of shed your clothes quickly, falling onto the sofa in a tangled heap. Simon’s hand delves between, fingers finding your arousal. You’re ready for him—just as eager as he his. He makes no gentle effort, just a quick thrusts until he’s in to the hilt. Your brief gasp is swallowed up by his mouth, tongue delving inside for a taste as he starts to thrust.

This is what he needs. More than anything.

Talking can come after.

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[criminalamnesia]

Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.