#only been popping in every so often to check in on a few awesome people who aren't on tumblr

[chaosintheavenue]

Can’t open Twitter without falling down a block spree rabbit hole.

[familyabolisher]

I'm very curious about any more in depth thoughts you have on It Came From The Closet! It's been on my radar and I'd been planning to check it out soon as my next read, and this is the first opinion I've seen on it that isn't part of what feels like marketing reviews almost. Is it the analysis of the horror movies and themes that feels off or the way the essays are written? I'm a huge horror fan and I've definitely seen a...few queer horror takes that felt either like reaches or just "off" to me, but it's always hard to put my finger on it

i’ve only read the first few essays so it’s entirely possible that the volume will improve from here on out (though i … haven’t gotten my hopes up), but my impression so far is that it’s a series of schlocky, surface-level analyses providing a veneer of pop talking points around “horror” and “queerness” over what are often frankly uninteresting personal essays. v little insight and v little desire to bring anything new to the table; frankly, v little interest in the films they purport to be writing on beyond shallow rhetorical vehicles for personal reflection. my patience for The Personal Essay is vvv low at the best of times, but like, i can appreciate a work from which i can glean some compelling insights and articulate a thoughtful response. and, god, none of these pieces have crossed that hurdle so far.

like, if it’s not a long string of appeals to buzzwords like “queerbaiting” and “bury your gays” or v poorly substantiated appeals to "subversion" then it's incorrectly defined “reparative reading” or one writer citing that stupid mary oliver soft animal of your body whatever line out of literally nowhere. it’s just not insightful or imaginative. at its worst it does just read like an annoying tumblr post circa 2017. carmen maria machado writes an essay on jennifer’s body as articulating something essential to her bisexuality such that efforts to talk about the way in which it marketed itself via appealing to the homophobic cultural currency of teen lesbian eroticism somehow constitutes “gatekeeping.” this is not compelling or original critical writing, people.

almost every essay seems to fall back on the same base claim: that what makes horror horrifying relies on a currency of alterity which discursively constructs the “other” and that queer people can & will identify with the “other”—the monster in the horror film—in order to make sense of themselves & overturn the hegemony that the film may well seek to affirm. cool, awesome—this is not new analysis. i would not expect this kind of thing to be churned out in a book published in 2022; we know this already. i worry that overleaning into this idea of a “reclamation” of sorts a) risks forfeiting the language we have available to us to actually talk about the sort of bigotry which can fuel these kinds of stories; how many people talk about le fanu’s carmilla as a stunning depiction of erotic lesbian vampires and lose sight of its having been a v homophobic, colonialist text in their doing so?; and b) neglects the tradition of horror within alterity; horror being made not out of a conservative ethos that we seek to critically remould into a kind of limp simulacrum of a “radical” one, but one born out of a desire to tell a story against heteronormative social imaginaries in the first place. it’s all well and good to identify with regan from the exorcist and cite your poor understanding of reparative readings (not a critical framework i subscribe to anyway, but like, at least get it right?) in doing so, but do we have to keep limiting our discourse to this back-and-forth about whether or not we can salvage obviously homophobic/misogynistic/ableist/racist stories forever? lol. i watched Hellraiser for the first time the other day and that was queer horror that could be met with on far more compelling terms than whatever all this is.

[pleasantanathema]

Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader] 

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

[keigosbirdie]

I love your way of writing and despite language barriers (German potato) I can read your texts well and fluently! ♡ you can tell that you put a lot of work into it and I don't have to start with your drawings they are awesome !! ♡♡ my first fail question was answered nicely by you ♡ I wanted to ask if you can give my day a good start with a few lovely words from Hawks in your style so that I can go to work motivated ♡

Thank you so much !! Ahh! Im so happy you could read my story despite the language barrior! I try to write bluntly, so to speak- to the point, you know? Im glad my style of writing works for you!! A few words from hawks? Well, since you sent me such a sweet message I wrote something for you! Its short and I wrote it on my breaks at work so i hope its okay ;u;

---

Morning Coffee

The morning was cold. Flecks of snow fell lazily from the blackened sky above you, so you pulled your scarf up over your nose to keep warm. You were alone at the train station, just like every morning before. The world was engulfed in darkness beyond the reach of the buzzing lights above you. Used to, the dark of early morning felt ominous and frightening. Especially walking in it alone to the station, but it became a comfort when it became familiar. The rest of the world was excluded from your early morning train rides to work. It was the only time of day that truly belonged to you. When you thought of it that way, the blackness all around you felt more like a protective blanket from the world beyond it than something to be feared.

But it was still lonely.

You clasped your coffee cup tightly in your palms as you waited for the train. Well, it wasn't your coffee cup. Your favorite thermos was forgotten on the counter in the rush of the morning. Your only alternative was a paper cup filled with whatever elixir the gas station peddled you that morning. It helped warm you against the chill of winter, but it did little for your soul.

You clasped your coffee a little tighter and glanced up at the world above it's brim. It was so early in the morning in your rural town that you were the soul occupant of the train station. There was no casual chatter of strangers or the shuffling of other people living their lives separate from yours. There was only you and the faint buzz of the lights above you.

The loneliness was an excuse for your mind to wander to thoughts of those close to you. Close, but not close enough. Friends you only saw during friday outings. Your mother, who lived a few hours away. Your husband, who moved in with you just a week prior, but it hardly felt like it. He had little time for domestic bliss in the midst of his own busy troubles. It was fine, you were incredibly busy yourself, and just having him there more often was a comfort.

The memory of the night before warmed your core up better than your cup. He came home a little early, and you stayed up way past bed time to build a pillow fort, per your request. The rest of the night you laid together in the makeshift hovel. His familiar voice filled the tiny space with gentle, nostalgic words that set sparklers off in your chest.

He was still in bed when you awoke for work, which made leaving even more difficult. It took several minutes of mental preparation to climb out from beneath his warm plumage, and he chirped and rolled in his sleep at the loss of your warmth. You decided not to wake him, —sleep was a rare luxury for the overworked hero— so you left with a worldless kiss and a note on the fridge. It made standing alone at the station all the more bitter, though, knowing he was at home keeping the sheets warm.

Your chest quaked gently under the weight of your loneliness, but only for a moment before you straightened your back out to stand a little taller. It would be fine. You'd be home again after your shift, and you'd see him again when he eventually made it home after his.

You reached into your coat pocket and fingered the top of an aluminum can. It was also coffee, but his coffee. The too sweet, triple shot canned stuff he sipped on to get through the day. You'd buy one for him when you stopped by a gas station. And sometimes for yourself, simply because the shiny yellow can on your desk gifted you with thoughts of him through the day.

"It's quiet out here," a voice resonated from behind you. Right behind you.

"F-Fuck!" You jolted. The paper coffee cup that'd been comforting you was crushed in your startled fist. What little was left of the hot liquid gushed out and burned the knuckle of your thumb.

The redness on your hand was pale in comparison to the flush of your cheeks, however, when you realized who'd landed behind you. Hawks. The man you'd abandoned in bed. He was dressed for patrol in his hero get up. He lifted that yellow visor of his atop his head, the same one that sat on your bedside table at night. He looked down at you apologetically. His wings folded tight against his back as if to make himself appear smaller; less threatening.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"

"Oh, no, you're fine-" you blurted as you straightened yourself out and rubbed the ache of your hand against your thigh. "You just startled me, Jesus, why don't your wings make any sound when you come swooping in? At least give a gal a warning."

He offered the smallest smile.

"I wanted to catch you before I took off," he said, though his expression was still a bit solemn as he eyed the hand you'd burned. "You left your thermos on the counter."

He reached into his thick jacket and pulled the thing from his pocket. You blinked, and you suddenly didn't feel cold anymore. With a long, contented hum you dropped the crumpled paper cup into the can behind you, and then he placed your thermos into the cradle your hands made. The metal was hot. He must have made you a fresh cup.

The gesture shook you just a little. He'd been in your life since you were children—he grew up to be your husband, for God's sake—but you never stood beside him in a public place. He was too protective, and the thought of you being outed as his spouse brought on his anxieties. Yes, the eagle eyes of strangers always made him nervous when it came to you, but there wasn't another soul in sight that morning.

"You'd risk being seen with me just to bring me my coffee?" You pondered as you popped off the cap and breathed in the familiar, healing aroma of your favorite brew.

"And to get my goodbye, since you ran off without one. I was worried," he added. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't lose his playful grin when he tacked, "You butthole," onto the end of his sentence.

You snorted at his childish insult. It was so like him to peck at you gently. "You never get any sleep- I was trying to be nice! And you know when I leave for work, Birdbrain. I even left you a note on the fridge."

"Ah, I didn't see it," he said. His gloved hand scratched at the back of his head as he tried to hide his small tinge of embarrassment. He came to bring you coffee, yes, but he also came just to double extra check that you were safely on your way to work and not a corpse in a ditch somewhere. "Sorry."

He worried. A lot. It was one of those things he was trying to work on, but it didn't bother you as much as he thought it did. He lived a treacherous life. The secrecy around your relationship and the anxiety he harbored for your safety always made sense to you.

A small cloud expelled from your lips as you let out the smallest laugh. "Don't be. I'm glad you came. Waiting out here is the crummiest part of the day, usually. Company is nice, especially if its yours."

His face softened. His lips quirked up into the faintest of grins, and his narrow eyes crinkled gently at their dark corners. It was the same smile that made your heart flutter when you were a little girl. His face was rounder and a bit more pudgy, then. His eyes were dowey, his voice was high, and he'd yet to be ripped apart and put back together into someone else. That little boy faded more and more as years and hardships passed, but you still saw him every time Hawks wore his smile.

"It is pretty cold," he said, and a wing unfurled from behind him. It draped around you like a heavy coat, battling away the chill in the air. Your smile grew a little wider as you stepped into him.

You fingered the edge of the can in your pocket before pulling it free from the confines of your coat.

"Here. We can have a little coffee before my train gets here," you offered.

His head tilted at the offering, as if startled by it. But then he took it graciously from your hands. You huddled close together under the canopy of his wings to keep warm as you nursed the edges of your drinks. Soon your train would come, and he would fly off into the darkness that became so familiar to you. You'd be on the tram alone once again, but the warmth of your thermos would keep you good company the rest of the way to the commission.

"Thank you," you managed to say. You were huddled so close together you could feel the fur trim of his coat brush against your cheeks. Warm puffs of your intermingling breaths chased the cold away from your cheeks and the loneliness from your once tight chest.

"For the coffee?" He asked before taking a noisy sip from his own elixir. "I knew you'd be lost without it."

"For everything."

[haikyuuhoo]

Habits

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Summary: In which Akaashi has a couple of habits you find extremely endearing.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Just extremely rushed writing so this might not be great.

A/N: Have a lil fluffy Akaashi fic I wrote instead of doing my reading for class today :) My excuse is that this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away.

Akaashi had two habits you picked up on very early—before the two of you even really knew each other.

The first was that he had this cute little way he played with his fingers when he got anxious. You'd seen him do it in a number of situations: when he was waiting in line at the campus café deciding what to order, when he stood in the kitchen at the few parties you'd spotted him at, and right before he was about to give a presentation. Another thing you noticed, though, was that it was shockingly easy for him to switch it off as if nothing was bothering him. When he approached the counter, he told the barista his order as if it was the same thing he got every time. When his friends approached him at the party, he would give them a gentle smile and allow them to push a drink into his hand. When he stood in front of the class he immediately stood straight and set his shoulders back, exuding a confidence that you could only dream of having while he gave his analysis of whatever book you'd all just read for your literature class.

Akaashi Keiji was never one to express his emotions openly, always coming off as stoic or like he couldn't be bothered to really tell people what he was thinking. But you knew better.

When you leaned your chin on your palm, watching Akaashi give his presentation at the front of the lecture hall, you could tell there was more going on in that pretty head of his. Honestly, you weren't even paying attention to what he was saying. You were studying him, trying to see if there was any millisecond where he let something other than strict professionalism shine through. But you didn't see anything, and it made you frown a bit as he came to the conclusion of his presentation.

When he finished, he thanked the class and let a small smile settle on his lips. It made warmth bloom in your chest, and you couldn't help but smile in return.

Not like he noticed. You were pretty sure he didn't even know who you were.

That was your first year of college, and you honestly didn't expect to be in many—if any—more classes with Akaashi. It was just a gen ed class, after all.

In your third year, however, you were in another class with him. You’d noticed him on the first day. You remembered from your first year that he was always early to class, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when your gaze immediately found him sitting in the middle of the rows of seats as you walked in. You instantly felt your heart rate pick up, and you honestly found it to be a bit embarrassing. You made your way to a seat a few rows behind Akaashi and settled in. Did you still have a stupid crush on this guy who you’d barely spoken a word to two years later?

Yeah, you did. How could you be anything other than enamoured with Akaashi Keiji?

The class, sadly, was a lecture with over one hundred students, so aside from looking at the back of his head, you didn’t really see much of him. It made your heart sink.

The second habit Akaashi had was one you had picked up on your first year as well, but you didn’t really see it in full swing until you noticed him frequenting the library even more than you usually did.

Akaashi Keiji was an overthinker.

Sitting behind him, you could always see the bright red A’s on his papers he got back. So why did he always look so stressed whenever you saw him in the library?

On numerous occasions you’d caught him staring at his laptop screen for probably much longer than was necessary to read over whatever was in front of him. You felt a bit bad for staring, but he made you curious. When you looked a little more closely, you noticed that behind his glasses his gaze was unfocused, meaning his mind was definitely somewhere far off from the words on the screen in front of him.

You found it kind of cute, the look he would get on his face.

But you’d still never spoken to him, so there was no way you were going to tell him that.

That was, until one day in the library when you did speak to him.

You had been sitting a few tables away from Akaashi—this time you weren’t stalking him—not that you had been before!—you were here first this time, you swear! You hadn’t even noticed him!

Well, okay, that last part wasn’t true. You had arrived before Akaashi that day, fully intent on cramming for midterms, and you only noticed him when you got up to go refill your water bottle. You almost tripped over your own feet when you saw him. And maybe you did accidentally shoulder check a bookshelf.

But we don’t talk about that.

You noticed he was working on the paper for your class as you walked by, you could tell from the fact that his copy of the book you all had been assigned sat open in front of him. It had countless flags sticking out of it and was filled with highlights and scribbles in the margins. You kind of admired his dedication.

A few hours later you’d gotten yourself back in your own groove of cramming. Your headphones played music loudly into your ears in an attempt to minimize any distractions, and your gaze was fixed on your laptop. You were so in the zone that you didn’t notice someone approaching you. You didn’t even notice him say your name. It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder that made you jump that you pulled yourself away from your work.

You pulled your headphones off just in time to hear the person beside you mumble an apology, and before your gaze raised enough to look at his face you knew who it was.

You could tell by the way he fiddled with his fingers.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Akaashi said, looking away as an embarrassed flush rose on the back of his neck.

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s okay! My music was just really loud. I didn’t hear you,” you explained with an awkward laugh, looking up at him and setting your headphones on the table. “D-Did you need something?”

You could feel your heart pounding. You’d never spoken to him before and now he was approaching you?

“Yeah, uh, you’re in my classic lit class,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

“Yeah, I am,” you breathed, and you could feel your cheeks tingle with heat.

He cleared his throat and looked down at you. He was still playing with his fingers, which surprised you. Usually he stopped as soon as he started doing whatever was making him nervous. Why were you any different?

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to read over my paper. I’ve been working on it for hours and I think it’s making me hate it. You can say no, I know you’re probably busy with your own stuff. I just thought a fresh pair of eyes might help me.”

Your eyes widened. Not only was he in front of you looking uncharacteristically more nervous than you’d ever seen him, but now he was asking for your help?

“Sure!” you blurted, and you hoped you didn’t come across as eager as you felt.

His shoulders relaxed at that, and he smiled. “Awesome, thank you. Let me grab my stuff really quick.”

You nodded, and as you watched him retreat to his table you tried to get yourself to calm down. He was back less than a minute later, and instead of just having his laptop he had gathered all of his things. It made the heat in your cheeks spread over the rest of your face as you realized he was moving to your table to continue working.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said as he set his laptop in front of you.

“I know,” he said bluntly, settling into the seat across from you.

Your eyes widened. “Y-You do?”

He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. We had a class together a couple years ago. You gave really good presentations,” he observed.

You felt like you were going to pass out. Not only did Akaashi actually know your name, he remembered you.

“I see you around campus sometimes too,” he continued.

“O-Oh,” you breathed, pulling his laptop closer to you. “I guess it’s not weird that I know your name too, then?”

He gave you a smile that made a swarm of butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I guess not. But I can formally introduce myself if that’ll make you feel better. I’m Akaashi. Thank you for reading my paper.”

You nodded, fingers curling around the sides of his laptop. “Of course. I’ve been working for hours too, so this will be a good break.”

“I can read something of yours in return if you want,” he offered, but you shook your head immediately.

“No, it’s okay, you’ve probably got a bunch of assignments to work on,” you assured him with a smile before looking down to the screen to start reading his paper. He simply gave you a nod and pulled a textbook out of his bag, leaning his cheek against his hand as he began working on another assignment.

It only took you a few pages to realize why Akaashi consistently aced his papers. He was an incredible writer.

You looked up, fully intent on telling him as much, but you stopped when your gaze settled on him and you noticed that familiar far away look in his eyes. You smiled, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about.

Akaashi thought you were incredibly beautiful. That wasn’t a word he used often, usually reserved only for the way authors sometimes articulated things in a way that gave him goosebumps or for the way he could see the stars twinkle on clear nights.

But as soon as he’d laid his eyes on you, the word popped into his mind nearly every day. He’d watched you walk into class the first day of his first year, and he was smitten.

You looked so beautiful, even when you were doing something as simple as coming into the early morning class nursing a coffee every day. He decided he’d always come early so he could watch you walk in.

You looked beautiful when he saw you around campus, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest when he watched you laugh with your friends only solidified the thought.

You looked incredibly beautiful whenever he saw you at the parties he went to when Bokuto was finally able to drag him along. There was just something about watching you act so carefree with a smile that never seemed to leave your face all night that made him realize that you had become his definition of beautiful.

But he’d been too nervous to ever say anything to you, and when an entire year went by without the two of you having another class together, he felt a bit hopeless. He couldn’t really go up to you on campus, and the longer he waited the more awkward it was.

“Hey, you were in my literature class a year and a half ago,” wasn’t the best pickup line.

But when he saw you walk into classic lit at the beginning of this semester, he felt his heart soar. Maybe he would work up the nerve to talk to you this time.

A few minutes passed and Akaashi still hadn’t moved. A slight giggle left you that startled him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blushed when he looked at you.

“What? Did I write something stupid?” he asked meekly.

You shook your head, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out of you. “No! Your paper is incredible, actually.”

He frowned. “Then why are you laughing?”

You gave him a hesitant smile. “You do this thing…” you trailed off, wondering if it would be weird to admit that you noticed the way he would sometimes get lost in his own head.

“What thing?” he questioned, the pink on his cheeks darkening.

You bit your lip. Now it was your turn to be shy. You dropped your gaze to your lap and played with a loose thread on your sleeve. “When you get really deep in thought you get this cute little look on your face,” you whispered, not even sure if he heard it.

But he had, and his eyes widened in embarrassment. “C-Cute?” he sputtered.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Sorry, I know that’s probably weird,” you said softly.

“I think you’re cute too,” he breathed.

“You what?” you squeaked, head snapping back up so you could look at him.

He quickly looked away, but there was no hiding the way his cheeks were stained pink. “Is that too forward?” he asked softly, and he was playing with his fingers again.

Without thinking, you reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He jumped, looking back over at you and relaxing at the way you smiled at him.

“No, it’s not,” you assured him.

“Good,” he sighed, “because I actually think you’re beautiful.”

That was three years ago, and you couldn’t help but think back to it as you took in the scene in front of you.

You’d announced yourself as soon as you stepped into his house. You knew he had a big deadline today, so you wanted to surprise him with dinner. He sometimes forgot to eat when he worked late, and you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself properly.

Plus, you’d take any excuse you could get to see your boyfriend.

“‘Kaashi, I brought food!” you called out as you closed the door. You slipped your shoes off by the door and hung your jacket up beside his on the coat rack. When you got no response, you set the bag of takeout on the kitchen table and made your way to his office.

“Keiji,” you hummed as you opened the door, peeking your head in. You still didn’t receive a response, but you saw him sitting at his desk. He wasn’t typing, however, nor was he scrolling through the pages on the screen in front of him.

You frowned. You already knew what was happening.

You walked further into the room. “Keiji,” you said again when you approached his side. He simply gave you a hum in acknowledgement. You rolled your eyes and turned his chair so he was facing you, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. A groan left you and you cupped his face in your hands, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, and his gaze focused on you for a moment before his eyes fluttered shut and he parted his knees slightly so you could stand between them.

“You’re gonna give yourself burnout if you keep spacing out like that. I know how much you overthink stuff like this,” you scolded when you pulled away.

He sighed, hands settling on your hips. “I know, it’s just, I’ve got this deadline—”

“I know you do,” you interrupted, “that’s why I’m here. I had a feeling you’d be working too hard.” You gave him a fond smile and ran a hand gently through his hair. “So I brought you dinner.”

He perked up at the mention of food and smiled up at you. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” You grinned. “Now c’mon, let’s go eat so you can give that pretty little head of yours a rest,” you teased, ruffling his hair once more before reaching for his hand and pulling him out of his chair.

He hummed and laced your fingers together as he stood up. “Sounds good,” he murmured before bringing your hand up and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You know me so well.”

You smiled. “I’ve been told I’m quite observant.”

He chuckled and gave your hand an affirmative squeeze. “Yeah, you sure are.”

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! I’ve read so many awesome fics this month! Make sure to check them all out. As always, all my love to all the authors in this fandom ♥

➻ don't want to fight you | starryharry | enemies to lovers - enemies to friends to lovers - pining - mutual pining - angst - fluff slow burn - no smut - 124k Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is good. Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point. Or, the one where two fighters can also be lovers because routines are never permanent.

➻ we are ghosts amongst these hills | louisgaynkles | Soulmates - reincarnation - historical - slow burn - angst - fluff - 84k Harry spontaneously buys a house in Yorkshire because the universe, or fate, keeps leading him to it. What he didn’t know, is that his new house comes with a past that seems to be mysteriously tied to his own life. Before he knows it he finds himself travelling back in time, stuck in the middle of a century old love story. Featuring Louis as a farmer with a passion for gardening, Zayn as the heir to the local manor, Niall as a pub owner with a secret, and a truly underappreciated Liam. Based on Mariana by Susanna Kearsley

➻ through the wheatfields and the coastlines | thepolourryexpress | farms - cowboys - angst - implied/referenced homophobia - implied/referenced gun use - humor - smut - 53k “You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through. “I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.” Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

➻ An Irrationally Strong Bond Between Two People | jishler | dystopia - friends to lovers - angst - first time - 18k Before The Advancement, most human lives and careers were plagued by irrationality and a lack of productivity. This was largely the symptom of what scientists refer to as “interpersonal passion,” which included two separate (though often conjointly occurring) phenomena: “love,” and “sex.” “Love” was a pre-Advancement word which referred to an irrationally strong bond between two people, which caused its sufferers to prioritise their fellow “lover,” as well as the integrity of the malignant bond itself, over vital things such as workplace productivity. Taken every two weeks in pill form, The Drug immediately removes interpersonal passion from the human psyche. Children’s friendships do not have the capacity to develop into full-fledged “love” since they are not yet adults. Every person over eighteen takes The Drug gladly, grateful that it allows them to be productive, clear-headed, and rational members of society. A few weeks before Louis’ eighteenth birthday, Harry and Louis fall in love. (Based on the book Louis writes in indiaalphawhiskey's Our Lives, Non-Fiction.)

➻ And When It's Time | larryftnoctrl | Soulmates - soulmate-identifying timers - 6k Louis wants a soulmate, Harry loves his free will. They don't exactly go hand in hand. Prompt: AU where you have a countdown on your wrist for when you're going to meet your soulmate and if you miss it the time will reset. Louis/Harry keep having awful luck and always are missing their time until one day they don't. Maybe the other one is scared/has anxiety about meeting their soulmate? Maybe one time they're in a relationship so they intentionally miss their time? Who knows! But they finally meet :D

➻ made for lovin' you | cuddlerlouis | a/b/o - enemies to lovers - hate to love - soulmates - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff smut - 53k “I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right. “For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure. “Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something. “I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.” “Noted.” So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat. Splendid. - Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

➻ deFENCEless | solvetheminourdreams | neighbors - enemies to lovers enemies to friends to lovers - gardening - fluff - humor - banter - no smut - 27k "I moved here first," Louis says with finality, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry shoots him an unimpressed look before leaning forward, leaving only a tiny gap between them. "Then get the fence first," he whispers, lips a mere inch or two away from Louis'. When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

➻ Canyon Moon | delsicle | a/b/o - werewolf - soulmates - childhood friends - friends to lovers - arranged marriage - mutual pining - hurt/comfort - angst - 41k For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry. Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind. An A/B/O Lion King AU

➻ only guilty of loving you | sweetrevenge | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - blind date - soulmates - fluff - angst - mutual pining - smut - 22k After Harry gets set up with his co-worker's alpha friend Louis, he's expecting some pleasant conversation, free dinner, and maybe a new friend. What he doesn't expect, however, is that Louis' arrival in his life begins a life of crime Harry never knew he had in him. A You've Got Mail!AU with a twist.

➻ 'Til Everything Changes | lovelarry10 | a/b/o - older characters - brokend bond - loss - falling in love - fluff - implied mpreg - smut - 57k Harry’s nose twitched as he caught a scent on the breeze, one that sent a shudder through his whole body. His eyes closed subconsciously, and he lost himself in the heady scent, the vanilla top notes, and the more woody undertones, making every hair on Harry’s body stand on end. That was how Harry discovered this man was an Alpha. “Jaz, Harry, this is my Uncle Louis. Lou, this is my girlfriend Jasmine, and her dad Harry.” "Lovely to meet you,” Louis grinned, leaning in and kissing Jasmine’s cheek quickly, a respectful Alpha gesture. Harry held his breath as Louis stuck out a hand, taking it almost reluctantly, certain the Alpha would pick up on his own scent and the nerves flowing through it. “Hi, Harry.” “Hi,” Harry said, his voice low and raspy, still affected by Louis’ scent. “Nice to meet you.” ~~~~ Harry’s an Omega who has been alone for too long. Louis’ an Alpha who is scared to find love again. Thanks to the meddling of Harry’s teenage daughter and her boyfriend, the two seem destined to meet, and it might just change everything they thought they knew about their lives. Will they find what they didn’t realise they’ve always wanted in each other?

➻ Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | youreyesonlarry | ice hockey - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff - major character injury - pining - unrequited love hospitalization - smut - 74k It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day. -------- Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire

➻ Rooms on Fire | softfonds | a/b/o - actors - famous/famous - friends with benefits - secret relationship - 34k Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

➻ Stumbling Into Your Arms | sunshineandthemoonlight | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - college/university - fluff - 7k Suddenly, Harry’s nose was brushing against Louis' neck, where his scent was overwhelming. Harry jerked his head to the side and took a deep breath of air, trying to clear his nose of Louis’ scent. ‘Don’t get slick, don’t get hard, don’t get slick’, he repeated to himself in his head, like a mantra. Louis and Harry are university students heading home for the holidays. Harry quickly becomes enraptured by the attractive alpha standing across from him in the train carriage, who has a heavenly scent and a gentle smile.

➻ Little by Little | nonsensedarling | mpreg - non traditional a/b/o - exploring sexuality - exploring secondary gender norms - gender identity strangers to friends to lovers - mutual pining - fluff - slow burn - 65k Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes. Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

[anxiouspotato]

Master post of heard at school this year!!

*During band*

Student in charge of Jazz band: Hey! People! Listen!

Band Director: *Hands him baton*

Student: PEOPLE!! I have the stick! Listen to me! I have the stick! *Points at trombone player who's still playing over him* SHUT UP! *Turns to two freshmen talking* BE QUIET!! I need to tell y'all something!

Band Director: You're really not a people person are you?

Student: No... I'm not an annoying people person

*During AP World History* (We're supposed to be smart... We aren't)

Teacher: Alright everybody! Hand me your notebooks so I can check notes!

Student: *Hands him a few loose leaf papers, one of which is an old math worksheet.*

Teacher: Don't you have a notebook?

Student: Nah... I've been meaning to get one but haven't...

Teacher: So it's part of the plan but just hasn't happened yet?

Student: Yeah

Teacher: Okay... let's get that plan moving sooner rather than later. In the meantime why don't you grab the stapler off my desk and staple those together. I'll come back in a second and grab those from you.

Student *Proceeds to get the tape dispenser off the desk and tries to tape his papers together.*

Teacher: Why don't you use that stapler? Or is that too much for you to handle buddy?

Student: I know how to use a stapler!!

Student 2: You sure about that? You just tried to tape your papers together...

Student 1: *Proceeds to struggle with how to use a stapler*

Student 2: Need help there?

Student 1: Nah man! I got it

Student 2: *Watches student 1 struggle a little longer before taking the stapler and his papers* And this is how we use a stapler! *Smacks the stapler a few times*

*Also in World History*

Student: I don't know why we all have to be to class on time when he (talking about the teacher) doesn't even show up on time. He's like a ghost!

Teacher: *Pops out of nowhere* Ready to start class?

*In English*

Student: Wait! Alex *ock and Alex *ock (I can't actually share their last names but that's how both names end) are dating? This must be some kind of comedy sketch... where's the hidden cameras?

*In World History*

*While standing at the teachers podium while we're all waiting for out teacher*

Student: Okay everybody! Yoga time!

*Once again in World History*

*Two girls in the front row talking gossip about another teacher*

Teacher: *Leans in every so often when they spill something good...*

*During band!!*

Band Director: Hey (Student 1) I like your tuba colour!

Student 1: Thanks! I spray painted it myself!

Band Director: *Glares at him before walking away*

*Science class*

Student: *Interrupts for the fourth time*

Teacher: Okay everybody... (Student) needs some attention... you have 30 seconds... give (student) attention

Entire class: Ayy (student) I love you; You're awesome (student); Yo! (Student) how's your day been?; I love you (Student)

Teacher: *Timer goes off* Okay (student) now that you've gotten your attention are we good to move on?

Student: Yup... can we do that again tomorrow? I kind of liked it...

*During science*

*Class watching video*

*My table partner playing solitare, my buddy smacked his head on his table until he passed out for a solid 20 minutes then when he woke up emitted a strange "muh?"* Dude... you just gave yourself a concussion... I love my school.

*World history"

Teacher: Great! Now where did the people of ancient China live?

Everybody: In China...

Teacher: *Sigh*... No. They lived by the ocean. Water. They grew things...

*Geometry*

Teacher: This place is literally a step above a prison... why do you expect special treatment?

*History*

*Writes on board* "Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand sponserred Christopher Columbus' trip

Teacher: Spell sponsored how you like

Entire class: There's only one way to spell sponsored?

[lesbian-peanut-writer]

Erasing Resent

IT’S TIME!!! I’m having so much fun participating in these Collabs, I hope all of you are having fun reading the amazing works that come from them. This is another Collab for the Bnharem Discord Server, the theme that was chosen for this month was Flowers! Head on over and check out the rest of the amazing pieces that have come from the Collab this time the Masterlist was provided by the amazing @jojosmilktea​ this time and it looks amazing!

I was lucky enough to snatch up the one and only Katsuki Bakugou this time. Here’s hoping you all enjoy the content I have provided for him. Thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for letting me throw ideas at them and sorry I stole your man for the Collab. @pixxiesdust​ you wanted to be tagged for this, thank you so much for beta reading my story and giving me some pretty awesome feedback! Alright, all you Little Rogues; enjoy the feast!

~Lesbian Peanut

Word Count: 5873

“Babe…” You quirked an eyebrow as you stuck your head around the door, peering into the room when your boyfriend didn’t respond to your call for the umpteenth time. “Hello, Earth to Bakugou.” You called as you crossed the room to where he sat upon the couch, his head hanging in his hands as he sat there in silence. It was unusual for him not to respond to you when you were standing so close to him, he was the Hero known for his sharp reflexes. You knew there was one thing you could do that was guaranteed to grab his attention for sure. “GROUND ZERO!”

Katsuki jolted back to reality, harshly ripped from his deep thoughts by the sound of your voice calling to him. He shot up off the couch in the same instance and whipped around to face you, his eyes locking with yours as they blew wide and filled with alarm. His heart was thundering in his chest as he stared over at you, his hands stretched wide at his sides as he stood ready to fight and little crackles were tingling over the expanse of his palms. His eyes shot away from you, quickly doing a sweep of the room and scanning for a threat before realising there was no one else in the room besides you.

“(Name)…” His voice was barely audible as he spoke your name in a breathless whisper, his eyebrows pulling together out of confusion and frustration as he roughed a hand through his hair. “Babe, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I made tea for you but you weren’t responding to me. I called you several times Katsuki, you seemed to be lost in thought.” You responded as you held up the tray with two piping cups of tea on it, for him to see.

Katsuki flicked his vermillion eyes down to the tray you were holding in your hands, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he shook his head and turned away from you. He rubbed a hand over his face as he waited for his heart to stop trying to jump out of his chest via his throat. He wasn’t used to being called by his Hero name outside of work, it was something that screamed danger to him whenever it was called out in such a manner. Katsuki rolled his shoulders before dropping back down on the couch, sinking down before patting the spot next to him and turning his head to catch your eyes over the top of the couch.

“Get your damn arse over here woman!” He grumbled as a crooked smile graced his features.

You never were one to argue with the wishes of your boyfriend, after all there usually wasn’t a need for you to argue with anything that he asked of you. “Look at you being all worried over here by yourself…” You teased as you walked around the couch and placed the tray down on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him. You tucked yourself into the corner of the couch before motioning for him to move over to your lap so you could give him a massage.

Katsuki grumbled as he shuffled along the couch, sitting in front of you before leaning back against your legs so you’d be able to reach his shoulders properly. You moved your hands up along his shoulders, rubbing and pressing against the spots where you knew he would usually build tension throughout the day. He seemed to be extra tense today though, the muscles throughout his back were all bunched up and his shoulders were hunched up as though he were ready for a war; your shout just now probably was partly to blame for that.

“Are you ok?” You whispered softly as you leaned forwards, moving a hand to cord your fingers through his hair tenderly.

“M’fine… Don’t need your arse worrying over me, damn it!” He grumbled before sitting up, turning to face you before catching your wrist in his much larger hand and pulling it in close to his chest. He sat back against the couch and pulled you in close to his side, allowing you to snuggle in close to his warmth. “I’m the one who does the worrying here, got that (Name)? Don’t you dare go worrying about anyone but your damn self!” Despite his words, you knew he was well aware that you worried about him every time he was called out into active duty.

You giggled as you gently pressed your head into the side of his ribcage, watching as his fingers traced small patterns over the back of your hand. It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of Katsuki, it usually only happened when he had a stressful day at the Agency or something didn’t quite go right while on duty. The rest of the world saw your boyfriend as a brash, impulsive Hero who had the persona more befitting of a Villain. Katsuki had learned to ignore those comments, striving instead to prove those people wrong and making you proud when he saved lives.

“Urgh, I keep forgetting this ugly little thing is still here!”

You blinked as you felt pressure against your right wrist and your eyes instantly flicked down to where his thumb was pressed into your skin. “Hey, no! You do not get to pick on my little flower.” You pouted as Katsuki’s thumb rubbed over the flower that adorned your wrist. “It’s a part of me Katsuki Bakugou and you will accept it.”

“Not likely, this little thing isn’t nearly beautiful enough to represent you. How the fuck could you settle for something so simple and plain looking; it’s gross.” He growled as he turned your hand over, hiding the flower against his stomach as he looked down into your eyes. “I hate it and you know that.”

It was true that you were well aware of Katsuki’s unfound dislike for the small flower but every time you asked him to explain his reason, he would shut down and tell you not to worry about it. “Well, too late. It’s already on my skin and it’s not going anywhere any time soon.” You declared as a small smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“LIKE FUCK!” You squealed as Katsuki tipped you sideways on the couch and moved over you, his face mere inches from your own as a wildly wicked grin stretched over his face. “I’ll erase that fucker from your mind, I’ll make you forget everything about him and that includes this little piece of shit you call a damn flower.”

“Is someone a little jealous?” You teased as you looked up into his eyes and tilted your head to the side.

“Of that asshole? Like fuck that would ever happen!” He scoffed before moving and sitting back on the couch, grabbing his tea before sipping at it. “One of these days, I’ll fix that damn thing. Mark my words (Name)!” Katsuki was well aware of what the stupid flower on your wrist meant, the fact your ex gave it to you just served to piss him off even more. As vibrantly coloured as the Petunia was, he doubted you knew what it was or the meaning behind it.

“If you say so, Gremlin.” You whispered as you sat up and looked over at him in bewilderment.

“So…”

~

“Bakugou, are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” You whined as you flicked your eyes down to where your hand was encompassed by his larger one.

“(Name)… why don’t you go ahead and say my name just a little louder, huh?” Katsuki shot back at you as he looked over his shoulder.

You felt sorry for your boyfriend, he was constantly having to hide his face when he was out in public. As much as Katsuki liked being a Hero to the people of this city, he didn’t like the constant attention that came with it; especially when he was trying to spend time with you. There had been quite a few times you had dragged him away from people crowding him before they were pushing him beyond his limited point of patience.

“Sorry babe, where are you taking me though?” You questioned as you pulled on his hand, coming to a halt as you refused to walk any further and looked up into his eyes.

Katsuki sighed heavily in annoyance as he turned to face you fully, leaning in close to your face as his eyes locked with yours. “Right here.” His words caused confusion to flood your system as you whipped your head around rapidly.

“What? You dragged me out of the house in this cold ass weather to take me to the sidewalk in the middle of nowhere?” You frowned as you turned back to look at him, your eyes blowing wide as you caught sight of him pulling the mask down off his face and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“No idiot. You think I’d do that to myself?” He growled before grabbing a hold of your hand again and pulling you with him as he pushed open the door behind him. “You know, I hate the fucking cold; I can deal with it for this though.”

“Wait babe, what shop are you trying to pull me into?” You whined as you tried to read the name hanging over the door, failing as you were pulled into the warmth coming from inside the shop. “Also, put your damn mask back on. I am not pulling you away from any groupies that want to swamp you!” You huffed before pulling your arm free and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tch…” Katsuki shook his head before motioning around you to the inner workings of the shop he had taken you to. “Take a really good look, (Name). I think you should be more than capable of working out why the fuck I’d drag you here!” His eyes narrowed in annoyance before flicking down to where your arms were crossed over your chest.

You blinked rapidly before turning on the spot to take in what was going on inside the shop. Your eyes popped wide before snapping back to look at Katsuki at the same moment he grabbed your arm and held your wrist up in front of your face. “You… You’re getting it fixed for me?”

“No! I told you, didn’t I?” I’d erase this damn thing like it never fucking existed!” He growled before pulling you over to the counter in the reception area of the parlour. “It’s getting covered and you’re going to sit through the entire tattoo, you hear me?”

You blinked back tears as you looked down at your wrist where the small flower sat and then back up to his eyes. “Why? Why do you want to do this?” You mumbled as you stuck your bottom lip out, pouting up at him as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “You didn’t even ask me.”

“No! Don’t you fucking dare cry for that shitty ass flower.” He growled as he cupped your face, leaning in close as he looked into your eyes and passion was the only thing you could make out in the depth of his. “It’s a fucking Petunia, it has a meaning that pisses me off and I bet that asshole of an ex of yours knew the damn meaning behind it! I swear I get my hands on him and being a Hero is going out the window, I hate the meaning of that damn flower. I hate that it’s on your body, I hate that you have something so unsightly staining your beautiful skin! YOU. Deserve. Better!”

You blinked rapidly as you took a shaky breath, sniffling as you searched his eyes. He wasn’t lying to you, for the first time ever he finally told you why he hated the flower and he even managed to compliment you at the same time. “What does it mean?” You whispered as you moved your hands to wipe your tears away.

Katsuki visibly flinched back from you before turning his back on you, his eyes focusing on the man behind the counter as he handed him a piece of paper. “Ask someone else, I won’t fucking say it.”

You stood there in silence while Katsuki talked with the man standing behind the counter, discussing whatever it was on the piece of paper he had handed the man. You swiped at the tears which had started streaking down your face as you stared at the back of the man you loved so much. There was so much love in this man, so much compassion and yet somehow you were the only one who ever managed to see that side of him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the man standing in front of you and honestly, you knew the same could be said for him about you.

“Thank you, Katsuki…” You whispered to yourself before moving to hug him from behind. You felt his hot hand come down to rest over yours where it was against his stomach, all the while keeping up his conversation with the other man.

“Thank me when this is all over.” He muttered back to you before pulling free from your grip and leading you off to a room where a station was already set up awaiting you. Trust your boyfriend to have heard what you had said to him, his hearing was some of the best you’d ever come across. “I’ll come back and grab you when it’s all done, alright (Name)?”

“Wait, you’re not staying here with me for the whole thing?” You asked quickly as you looked up at him pleadingly.

“I’ll still be within the vicinity but there is no way you’re going to get me to sit in that cramped ass room with two other people in there.” Katsuki grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as a fire sparked to life in his eyes. “Unless my little flower is scared?”

“Get fucked! I’ll sit through this like a champ, you go off and be by yourself.” You shot back as you screwed your face up at him, your eyes narrowing at the challenge he had been throwing your way.

Alright, make sure to cry out for me if it gets unbearable.” He chuckled before diving in to plant a tender kiss against your forehead and then turned to leave the room; leaving you standing there with the artist.

“Shall we get this baby started then, Miss?” You blinked as you turned around to look over at your artist, smiling at him as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

“Yeah, let’s get this done. I want to see what that Gremlin picked out for me.” You announced before moving over to the station to get comfortable and allow the artist to start on the tattoo.

It had been a while since your first tattoo and honestly you barely remembered anything about it. This one stung a bit at first, the feeling of the needle against your skin as he started working on your tattoo. The pain from your wrist radiating up your arm for a while until eventually the pain numbed down to a dull buzz and you settled into a trance like state. You were zoned out from everything else in the room, too focused on the intricate lines that were being etched into your skin and forming a beautiful scene. You watched the artist in awe as he fluently and effortlessly made his way up along your forearm, decorating the skin in lines and splashes of colour. Flowers, you could tell they were flowers he was putting on your skin but you couldn’t make out what kind.

The vision of flowers being put onto your skin, had a prior question springing to your mind. You looked up from the work being done to your arm and focused on the artist sitting next to you. “Hey, do you have knowledge of what flowers mean?” You asked, hopeful that this man would be able to give you the answer you were looking for.

“Sure do, in our line of work it tends to pay off knowing that sort of thing. Helps us when we’re putting designs together for people too.” He answered as he looked up from your arm, moving to switch the needle over on the machine. “Why’s that sweetheart?”

You felt uneasy about asking this man the question that was bugging you, but you needed an answer and your boyfriend had made it painfully clear that you weren’t going to get it from him. “What is it? The meaning behind a Petunia.”

The man was silent for a moment as he took a shaky breath and sat back in his seat, looking you dead in the eyes. “I was warned you might ask me that question by Mr Bakugou. I’ll be honest with you; I didn’t think he meant it when he said you didn’t know what the meaning was.” He muttered as he took a moment to finish up with the tattoo gun before dipping it back into a small pot of vibrant red liquid. “Resentment and anger. To give a Petunia to someone is to say you are angry at them or that you resent them for something.”

You were silent as you stared at the man sitting beside you, not even feeling it when he went back to working on your tattoo. You understood everything now, why Katsuki had been so damn angry all this time about seeing the flower on your wrist. You couldn’t help but to smile as you looked down to the new tattoo covering your old one, Katsuki was doing you a favour and you would make sure to repay him for that.

The rest of the tattoo went by without a hitch, the two of you managing to strike up a conversation as you watched and he worked effortlessly. It turned out your artist was a rather big fan of the Hero Ground Zero and apparently your boyfriend had taken it upon himself to come here first while in his Hero uniform. It all kind of made sense to you now, how your boyfriend was able to just walk into a shop and ask for a tattoo; he’d already been here. Honestly, you weren’t the least bit surprised and it was just like Katsuki to suss a place out before making a decision.

By the time the tattoo was finally finished, your forearm was tingling from having been stabbed with a needle constantly but the finished piece was worth it in your mind. You stared in awe at the finished piece as you looked it over in the mirror, the colours were perfect and the flowers looked beautiful placed in the order they were. “Thank you, they all look so perfect.”

“I’m pleased to hear that you like it so much.” Your artist practically chirped as he smiled over at you. “Now, I’ll just go grab the big guy and get his approval on the piece. Hopefully my work will live up to his expectations too.”

There were nine different flowers decorating the length of your inner forearm, each one as intricate as the next. They weren’t all the same size either, some of them were no bigger than your thumb nail while others covered a fair amount of your skin. You smiled as you traced your fingers gingerly over the delicate flowers that adorned your skin, impressed with how real they actually looked.

“You’re not supposed to touch it, idiot!”

“But it’s so pretty, Gremlin.”

“Tch…” Katsuki scoffed as he stepped into the room, moving over to your side and pulling your hand away from your arm as he spun you to face him. “I didn’t get it for you just so you could get it infected before we even get home, damn it!”

You giggled as you tilted your head back, peering up into his face as you intertwined your fingers with his. “Thank you, for covering it.” You whispered as you reached up on your tiptoes and kissed his jaw tenderly. “I asked him what it meant, I’m kind of glad to have it gone now.” You admitted as you looked down at the new flowers that embellished your skin in place of the piece of shit that had been there before. “These new ones are so much better.”

“Of course, they are. I fucking chose them!” Katsuki declared as he smirked down at you, leaning in to kiss the top of your head before moving out the way and letting the artist finish up with the tattoo.

He stood silently in the doorway while your tattoo was washed over once more before being wrapped so it wouldn’t get dirty on your trip home. Katsuki pulled you in close under his arm as he walked with you out to the reception area of the parlour, paying for the tattoo as he chatted with the artist. The work obviously had Katsuki’s tick of approval because he was nice enough to leave the man with a memento that Ground Zero had been in his shop, signing over the top of the counter as the man asked him to do.

You stuck close to Katsuki’s side as you walked back towards his house with him, your arm starting to ache now as you kept it tucked up close to your chest and tried not to let the cold wind brush against it. “So, did you ask him what they meant too?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts at the question your boyfriend suddenly threw at you. “Wait… what?” You whimpered as you looked up at him quickly. “You mean there is more than one meaning to this tattoo, other than just covering up the old one?” You asked, dumbfounded by the revelation.

“Of course!” Katsuki grumbled as he shook his head. “Did you really think I would get you a new tattoo and not have the damn thing mean something?”

“I thought it was just a cover up of the old one…” You whispered as you looked down at your arm, puzzled over what the meaning behind it could possibly have been.

“I don’t half-ass this kind of shit, (Name).” Katsuki shot back as he flicked your forehead roughly “Figure it out for yourself what it means and don’t you dare cheat by asking him either!”

~

Katsuki sighed heavily as he stepped over the threshold to his house, relieved with finally being able to relax now that he was done with being a Hero for the day. It took a moment for him to register that something about his arrival home wasn’t quite right and then it hit him like a tonne of bricks; it was too silent! He screwed his face up as he waited for you to call out to him, your usual ‘welcome home” something he looked forward to and otherwise missing in the moment.

“Babe?” He called out into the house, waiting for you to respond to him.

When silence was all that greeted him in response, his fighting response was automatically kicked into high gear. He moved through the house quietly, managing not to let his boots make any noise as he headed deeper into the house. He stopped as the sound of ruffling pages caught his attention and he whipped his head around instantly towards the kitchen. Katsuki held his breath as he stalked towards the kitchen, ready to kick ass if the situation called for it.

His face fell as he caught sight of you bundled up, books scattered all over the table and a few even littering the floor. He shook his head as he moved over to you, arching an eyebrow as he saw the books were all to do with flowers. “So, this is what made you too busy to welcome me home?” He teased as he leaned down over you and kissed the top of your head.

“Welcome home…” You mumbled subconsciously as you flipped the pages of the book in front of you.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes before snatching the book out from between your fingers, waiting for you to register just who exactly it was that you had been choosing to ignore. He peered down at the pages of the book, it wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together; he knew what you were doing. “Is my little flower struggling?”

You blinked as realisation finally set in and you whipped around in your chair, leaning your head right back so you could look up at your boyfriend. “Babe…” You whispered softly as you leaned against the table. “Shit… fuck, I’m sorry. Welcome home!”

“Tch… bit late now idiot.” He muttered as he moved to sit down at the table with you, shoving a stack of the books over the edge and smirked as they hit the floor. “Now, do you need help? You’ve been at this for damn weeks.”

You sighed in defeat as you flung your arm out towards your boyfriend before letting it fall down onto the table. “I’ve looked and I’ve looked but I just can’t figure out what sort of flowers these are babe. Please, just tell me what they are?” You pleaded with him as you looked over at his face.

“Fine but only because you’re going to annoy me if I fucking don’t help you.” He growled before dragging his chair around the table to sit next to yours, grabbing your arm and bending it towards you. “For starters, try starting from your wrist and make your way up your arm.”

“I tried that; it doesn’t make a difference though when I still don’t know what the flowers are.” You whined as you looked at him, leaning into his side as you pouted.

“Shut up, I was getting there!” Katsuki growled as he flicked your nose. “Why are you so impatient, (Name)?” He teased before moving his right hand to touch the flower that covered your wrist. “Begonia, that’s what this is called. It has the symbolism of being cautious or aware.”

“Cautious and aware?” You queried as you turned your head to look up at him. “Really? That’s not me in the slightest though, babe.”

“No, but it sure is me.” He whispered as he traced his finger over the petals of the flower. “You made me more aware and cautious when I left the house. I was reckless, so very reckless before I met you but now, I’m more aware and cautious while I’m on the job. Because of you!”

You blinked as you sat up straighter, leaning in as you watched Katsuki trace the petals of the flowers. Of course, he had never said what the meanings of the flowers had pertained to but you hadn’t been expecting it to be something like that. Were all of the flowers relating to something similar as that? Did Katsuki pick flowers that symbolise things about your relationship with him that actually meant something to him?

“Aquilegia, it’s the uncommon name for it but I like it better. It stands for happiness and if you make me explain that to you, I’m going to fucking smother you.” Katsuki growled as he shot you a warning glare.

“No need, I make you happy but you also make me happy. I guess the flower represents the happiness that we bring each other in our relationship.” You whispered as you moved your hand to touch the flower tenderly.

“Yeah, something like that.” He muttered before sliding his finger up along your arm further. “Kalanchoes, would have had better luck finding these two in a succulent book. They represent endurance but more importantly they mean lasting affection. I’m not about to just stop loving you out of nowhere, so you better not try to do that to me either! You’re stuck with me and you’re going to have to accept that, (Name)!”

You smiled as you moved your finger along your arm, following after Katsuki’s as you poked at the smaller flower. “Yeah, I can accept that but your crazy arse is stuck with me too.”

“Ursinia, it means innocent love.” Katsuki continued as he tapped on the next flower along your arm. “You can’t even fucking argue with me that you’re innocent as all fuck. You are the innocent love of my life, deal with it.”

“Getting really sappy there, babe.” You teased as you kissed his jaw.

“Shut up, I can stop right now if you want me to!” He threatened as he narrowed his eyes and made to move his hand away from your arm.

“NO! I’ll behave, please don’t.” You whispered as you leaned forwards more and pointed to the next flower. “What are these ones?”

“Those are Gardenias, want to guess what those ones mean?” Katsuki shot as he smirked down at you, moving his other hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. He chuckled as you shook your head and looked over at him pleadingly, your silence all he needed for him to continue. “They mean sweetness, joy and purity.”

Ok, that was pretty self-explanatory, Katsuki would probably murder you if you tried to ask him to explain it to you anyways. You watched his finger closely as he traced along the petals slowly, his finger gracing over one of the many butterflies that also adorned your arm. You were going to ask him about those too, you wanted to know whether there was meaning behind the butterflies as well or whether he just threw them in there for decoration.

“The little flower here is called an Osmanthus or an Olive flower, it symbolises peace.” He whispered as he shifted in his seat slightly and rubbed his finger over the small flower. “You bring peace to everyone who comes into contact with you but you bring peace to my entire fucking life. I never thought I’d be able to find someone who would make me feel at peace when I come home, but you certainly do.”

You smiled as tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, trying desperately not to start crying while Katsuki explained the meaning of the flowers to you. Each flower just made the entire tattoo a little more meaningful to you but you knew the meaning held so much more importance to Katsuki. “And the last one?”

“Ulex, it means protection and hope.” He admitted as he smoothed his hand over the last of the flowers. “Protection because you are mine to protect, I’ll be damned if I ever let a single thing happen to you!”

“What about hope then?” You whispered as you turned in your seat to look at him fully.

“You… You gave me hope. Hope that I could be a better person than what I used to be, hope that I could be the best Hero the people needed.” He admitted as he leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly.

You smiled as you thought over all the names of the flowers, tracing your finger back over all of them as tears slipped down your face. You were happy, the flowers Katsuki had given to you were so much better than what that other thing had given to you. These flowers were special, they held proper meaning and they were there to stay. You frowned as something dawned on you, the names of all the flowers, there was something about them that struck you as odd.

“Begonia, Aquilegia, Kalanchoe, Ursinia, Gardenia, Osmanthus and Ulex…. B, A, K, U, G, O… YOU fucking didn’t!” You jumped up away from the table as you realised what your boyfriend had done to you. “Did you really just spell your name out, on my skin, using flowers?”

Katsuki shrugged as he looked over at you. “Problem?”

“Ah…. I’d say yes but I’d be lying and I know you hate liars.” You mumbled as you placed your hands on your hips. “How dare you make me wait weeks to find out that your name is on my arm in the form of flowers!” You huffed as you plopped back down in your seat and looked down at your arm. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Might as well get used to it.” Katsuki muttered as he stood from the chair, a grin planted on his face as he kissed the top of your head. “One of these days, it’s going to be your name!”

~

You didn’t think anything more of the conversation until a couple of weeks later, your friends had come screaming to you about something or another and practically threw their phones in your face. It had taken you a moment to realise that they had said Bakugou and interview in the same sentence. You started the video as your friend held the phone for you, her hand shaking as she practically jumped up and down on the spot. You tried desperately to listen to what the reporter was saying to your boyfriend but unfortunately something else in the video was grabbing your attention.

There on Katsuki’s left arm was an arrangement of flowers, each one bursting with life and formed perfectly as though they were real. You stared at the flowers before looking down at the ones on your arm, they looked like they were done by the same person. You thought back to that day instantly, the fact Katsuki had left you in that room for hours on end and disappeared for the entire time. Was it possible that he had gotten a tattoo of his own on that day? Why hadn’t he said anything to you about it since then? Was it fresh or had he been hiding it on purpose?

“Mr Ground Zero, I have to ask what is with all the flowers on your arm?” Your attention snapped back to the tiny screen in front of you and you watched as an almost feral grin spread over your boyfriend’s face.

“(Name), that’s what’s with it.” He declared as he turned his arm to show the tattoo off a little better.

“(Name)?” By this stage your friends were practically screaming in your ears and you were trying your hardest to listen to what was being said.

“Yeah, that’s the name of my future fucking wife!” He growled out as he smirked victoriously.

Whatever else was said was lost to you. All sound seemed to have disappeared for you and the only thing you could think about was the fact Katsuki had just declared he was going to marry you on national television. Your heart was thundering in your chest as your knees went weak and you sunk down to the ground before you fell. Your head was spinning as a conversation from several weeks prior came rushing back to you, the final words from your boyfriend ringing loud in your head.

“Might as well get used to it. One of these days, it’s going to be your name!”

[anxiouslyfred]

Pull Him Home

Summary: Virgil doesn’t believe that people really feel a pull to the location they’ll first meet their soulmate. He’s only ever felt pulled to his apartment. Perhaps he’ll finally find out why.

/\/\

Soulmates had to be a complete sham.

Virgil wasn't going to say that out loud, far too aware of the lectures Logan had amassed over the validity of soulmates and how the draw to a location worked, but he still believed it. Having a pull to one specific location where you're meant to first meet your soulmate just didn't make any sense, especially given that the pull would occur for years before soulmates might meet.

Truly he thought that all his family were just a bit delusional to jump on his case each and every time he went somewhere new, demanding to know if he'd felt the pull, when Virgil would be going back and what it was like.

Pure nonsensical questions.

Virgil had felt the one thing he'd even guess as being close to the pull the described exactly once, and that was always to his apartment. Not that anybody would ever believe that was the case, because of course when a child says that it just means they've got a dream apartment, and even if he repeats it as an adult, he could only be letting his anxiety hold him back and prevent any chance he could have to find the actual location he'd first meet his soulmate.

Learning to ignore those comments had taken a long time, and issues feeling like he should be travelling more kept on coming up in his therapy sessions. Having his pull to his apartment completely disregarded had only instilled a guilt in him for feeling it but done nothing to reduce the need to be at home. Virgil still had issues with people mentioning the pull after all of that.

That was what he'd been doing the afternoon  life came barging in to declare that soulmates were real. To be specific, someone broke the latch on his bedroom window and came tumbling through it, a wild grin on his face.

“So is this the room or is it one of the other areas that I need to go to?” The person had immediately jumped up, just stepping around Virgil when he headed through the door to the room.

“What the fuck? Who just goes breaking in to someone's apartment in the middle of the afternoon? Are you trying to rob me or is this some fucked up dare?” Virgil exclaimed, having grabbed a rolling pin since he'd been washing up before hearing the clamourer.

His words at least got the person to stop, turning around to face him. “Oh, sorry, is this your place? I'm just trying to figure out if I'm actually feeling the pull to where I'll meet my soulmate finally or if this is just another of my urges to go somewhere. The names Remus and the pronouns are they/them. It's easier for security guards to scream my correct pronouns when I'm climbing the walls of supermarkets.”

“Virgil, he/him. Do you find yourself running away from security guards often?” Virgil asked, checking if the latch was an easy repair before following Remus through to his living room.

Remus glanced over at him, looking around the flat with a frown. “Not really, like I said, I'm usually climbing, scaling walls and then well, I can't run away without a few big leaps from rooftop to rooftop. The pull here hasn't gone and it's like straight to your bedroom, Dude.”

“Excuse me, can we just record this so I can throw it in the face of every fucking person in my life outside of my therapist?” Virgil insisted after blinking in thought for a moment. “Cause that sounds entirely like you're my bloody soulmate and the pull I've felt here actually is that and not the anxiety every imbecile in my life claims it is.”

“We can take as many pictures and videos as you like. I could even print them on proper canvases so those folks will get bruised when you throw it.” Remus had already pulled a camera out from one of the many pockets on their trousers, holding it out towards him.

Taking the photos took a few minutes as Virgil kept laughing at the ridiculous poses Remus was getting themself into, including at one point climbing half out of the window as though they'd been caught in the act. His intruder seemed to be more than a little insane and terminally impulsive.

“So, when can I move in? Thought I'd ask now, get some mental timeline for how quickly you might class me as a friend or something.” Remus asked as Virgil was flicking through all the photo's he'd just taken, having sent them to his laptop.

Virgil glanced over, eyebrows shooting up through his forehead. “That's gonna take a while. I was more thinking about replacing the latch to one that can be unlocked from both sides with the right key. Give you an easy way in if you'd prefer to keep on breaking in.” He offered, wondering just what that said to them.

“Awesome, wary about trusting, but willing to let me have a foot through the window. I'm gonna like bringing you out of your shell and making this home.” They giggled a little. “You got any soap I can snack on? I skipped lunch when I felt a pull to come here and had thought it wouldn't take long before that pull disappeared. Fucking awesome that isn't going to happen.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore the words. “How about we have curry instead, and hang out for a bit, actually getting to know each other?” Plus if they were eating proper food he wouldn't have to worry about Remus getting himself poisoned.

“Sounds good for me. Don't tell anyone I eat real food though.” They agreed, jumping through a random door and into the wall of Virgil's bathroom.

He snickered, leading the way to his kitchen once they popped out declaring there was a layout malfunction.

[tanzen-neko]

Summertime Magic (Vincent x MC)

Here’s my late entry for July 13th for the Summer of Smut challenge. Thanks @voltage-vixen for extending the submission date. You’re awesome. Hope you enjoy!

Summertime Magic (Vincent x MC)

IkemenVampire

Summer of Smut Challenge- July 13th: (Oral) Sex Under the Sun Dress

Warnings: public sex, fingering, oral sex, outdoors

“Vincent? Are you almost ready??”

Vincent adjusted his new linen pants before he shouted back a yes to his girlfriend who was still in the bathroom. Sliding on his loafers, he sat patiently on the bed to wait for her to emerge. It had been 6 months since he had traveled to the future, and a few more since he got to be reunited with the one person who owned his body and soul. It still seemed like a dream more than not to him. The first night they had spent together, he had stared at her long after she had fallen asleep. He never thought it was possible to love someone so much. He still got pangs of sadness when he thought of his dearest brother, and the residents of the mansion he had left behind. Hell, every blue moon he even felt a stab of regret and sympathy for Shakespeare, but he never regretted his decision for a single moment. How could he when she showed him how much more to life there was?

“Cover your eyes!” she shouted at him, voice muffled behind the closed door. He felt a gentle smile come over his face as he complied.

“Done. Are you coming out now?”

He heard the door open and close, and smelt her perfume as she made her way closer to him. She pressed her cool hands against his, and dropped a kiss on his forehead.

“You can open them now,” she whispered.

He uncovered his eyes as she stepped back, a giant smile on her face. Vincent felt his mouth drop. She was in a dress, though he didn’t know if he could even call it that. Grazing her mid thighs, her legs were on full display. She had never worn such a short garment before in the mansion unless it was under one of her dresses. He felt his mouth go dry as she twirled and the dress flared out showing her beautiful thighs. 

“Wha-,” he stopped and cleared his throat before trying again. “What is that you’re wearing?”

She let out a laugh at his confusion, holding up the sides of the chemise again.

“What? It’s a sundress. It’s too hot out. But don’t you like the print?”

“Who cares about print when all I can focus on is how much I want to devour your legs and thighs?” he thought to himself. Instead of acting on those instincts however, he reigned them in and forced himself to actually look at the dress. He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. Cinched tightly at her waist, it was sleeveless and scooped down showing off just a hint of her breasts. But it was the print that had his heart squeezing in his chest; it was one of his sunflowers paintings. The blue background complimented her skin perfectly, and the sunflowers had never seemed so vivid as they did on the one he called geliefde.

“Do you like it?” she giggled twirling around once more.

“I, I love it. You look so beautiful. To have my sunflower wear my sunflowers is a dream come true.”

She rolled her eyes good naturedly at his cheesy words, but blushed a little all the same.

“And it even has pockets!” she exclaimed excitedly, shoving her hands into them almost gleefully.

“Don’t all sundresses?” he asked. 

“Oh, sweet baby Vincent, you still have a lot to learn,” she said, patting his arm. She went to the kitchen of their sunny little apartment, and pulled out an ice cold bottle of lemonade from the fridge. He inwardly chuckled as he thought of how blown away the residents of the mansion would be at all the advances in technology. He knew Arthur especially would be a fan of the computer for his writing. She grabbed some fresh strawberries, and finished up packing the picnic basket. She had mentioned wanting to take him to a new spot she had stumbled upon, and even had packed his easel and paints in the trunk of her car,but with that dress on her, he was worried about eyes being on her.

“Um, are you sure we should go out?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt his face heat up, and knew that a blush was probably dancing across his cheeks as he spoke. She turned to him, a wrinkle forming in between her brows. 

“What? Why? Are you not feeling well? You look a little red.”

She came over and pressed her cool hand against his forehead, worry etched on her cute face. Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, and was rewarded with a shy smile from her.

“Will…. Will your sundress be okay to wear out?”

She stared at him for a moment before cracking up in laughter.  Throwing her arms around his shoulders, she pulled him down into a quick peck on the cheek.

“Vincent, I promise you. No one will be concerned with my dress. I’ve seen quite a few shorter. I bet you will too during your time here.” 

He still wasn't convinced by her words but decided to let it go.  He didn't want to ruin their plans for the day, especially with the glow of excitement on her face.

” It'll be fine I promise. I can't wait to show you the special spot I found for us!”

 Vincent had to admit to himself that he was curious about what spot she had found especially given the fact that they had barely been separated for the last month besides her going to and from work. So, even though he had his reservations, he still grabbed the picnic basket and her hand as they walked out to the car. Driving with her was always an experience. She would turn up the music  and sing along, often flashing him smiles and encouraging him to learn the lyrics as well. Though it was only  a short drive, it seemed like it lasted forever since he couldn't help but keep staring at her thighs as she drove. He clenched his hands tightly on his lap to resist the urge to reach out and squeeze them.

 “What is your problem, Vincent??” he thought. Since when had a garment had such an effect on him? 

“Vincent? Vince, did you hear me?” He snapped back to attention, feeling bad that he missed her words. 

“I’m sorry, I must have zoned out.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. 

“That’s ok! I was just saying how I hope you like this place as much as I think you would. And that once we get your identification, maybe you’d like working at a flower shop!” He lifted her hand to his lips, humming his agreement. He loved how excited she always was, and the optimism she had about their relationship and future together. 

“We’re here!!” Parking the car, she did a little dance before popping the trunk and hopping out. 

“Come on Vincent!” He chuckled to himself before getting out and helping her unload the trunk. His paint supplies tucked under one arm, he followed behind her as she carried their basket, smiling and nodding to any people she crossed on the trail. They walked for a while, the terrain steadily becoming less paved with fewer people around.

“Almost there,” she called back, panting a little.  He wouldn't have minded an hour long walk; he was enjoying the view of her thighs and the way the dress clung to her plump backside. 

“Just past these bushes.” She pushed through, and held them back a bit in order for him to walk through.

“Tada! Do you like it?”

How could he not? A giant expanse of field, it was shielded all around by the trees, and bushes. The grass looked soft and lush, a bright green that was speckled throughout with flowers. He thought he even heard the quiet trickle of a stream somewhere. 

“My coworker told me about it. So I left work early the other day to come check it out. I, I know you must be homesick more than you let on, and this reminded me of the field you used to paint in back in the mansion. I figured that this could be your special spot when it all got to be a bit too much.” 

She stood behind him, uncertainty in her eyes as she rubbed her arm. He knew his silence must have been worrisome, but the prickle behind his eyes, and the dryness in his throat made it too hard to talk without crying. So instead he dropped his supplies, walked over and kissed her, the picnic basket awkwardly bumping between their bodies. He tried his hardest to pour all his thanks and love into that. When they parted to catch their breaths, she blushed and ducked her head down, busying herself with setting it down, and smoothing out her dress. 

“I take it you like it then? Do,do you want to paint or eat first?”

Vincent looked around the clearing to make sure they were truly alone before leading her over to the shade of one of the trees, backing her against its trunk.

“I’d love to paint you in the middle of all the tall grass, basking in the sun. But first, I have to have you before anyone else comes along. Is that ok?” She nodded up at him, her lips still dewy from the previous kiss. 

“Oh mijn liefste, how is it that you grow more beautiful every time I look at you?” he murmured against her lips before kissing the corner of them. “I love you. Oh how I love you.” He kissed her upturned lips, swallowing the contented sigh she let out. Her lips were so soft, and kissing her always made his head spin. He delved between her lips, finding her tongue. Brushing gently against it with his own, he gripped her sides to pull her closer in his embrace. He broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of perfume and sweat. He ran his tongue along her pulse, and felt his teeth begin to emerge. He wanted to bite her, to taste her. She clung to him angling her neck in order to give him the best access, but he pulled back.

“Not there,” he panted out. “I want to bite you, but somewhere else.”

He dropped another kiss to her lips before dropping down to his knees. He ran his fingers along the hem of the sundress, caressing the back of her thighs and stroking them up and down her calves. Circling her ankles with his fingers, he nuzzled his face into the side of her leg, kissing her behind her knee. He peppered her thigh with kisses, rubbing and kneading her calves. He moved back in order to hook one of her legs over his shoulder, her dress riding up, the tantalizing softness of her thigh so close to his mouth. 

“You’ve been driving me mad with this dress today. Your thighs. Oh, your thighs look so tempting. I need to bite you there.” 

She nodded her head rapidly, her mouth forming an “o” as she threaded her fingers in his hair. Without waiting for further encouragement, he sank his fangs into her thigh  . His mouth was immediately flooded with her taste, a bouquet of the sweetest honey and apples he’d ever had. Her moans and gasped went straight to his already throbbing erection, and he used his free hand to palm himself lightly through his pants, the combination of her blood and cries almost causing him to cum from the light touch alone. He forced himself to stop, and lowered her leg. Her knees buckled, and he caught her. Lowering her down along the tree. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, kissing her along her temple. He felt her nod against his lips. 

“Good, because I need more of you, please. Just a little more.” He pushed her dress up, and hooked his fingers in the top of her panties. He pulled them down her legs, and breathed in the smell of her arousal. He could see it glistening along her inner thighs, as he pushed her knees up and out. He slid himself down onto his stomach, not caring about the dirt and grass that were no doubt leaving stains on his clothing. Her smell was driving him insane. He leaned in, licking a long swipe from the bottom of her sex to her clit. She shuddered slightly, bringing her thighs closer inwards. He ran his tongue around her clit in light circles. He pushed one finger into her, groaning at how she sucked him right in. He wanted to bury himself in her, to get lost in her body. But he told himself to be patient. For now he needed to thank her for finding this spot for him, for wearing a sundress that made his heart (or more accurately his cock) throb, for just being her. He flattened his tongue before running it directly against her clit, like he learned she liked. Her soft breaths and gasps were driving him crazy; he needed to hear more of them. He withdrew her fingers, and drew back. Gripping the backs of her thighs, he pulled her closer to him before he dived in, his tongue flicking inside her. He used his nose against the underside of her clit. He drove his tongue as deeply as he could, loving the change in her cries. He kept at it until he thought his lungs were burst. Coming up for a breath, he immediately replaced his tongue with his finger. He added another one , curving them upwards like she had taught him. 

“Oh fu-, yes that’s it, Vincent. Just like that,” she gasped out. 

Wrapping his lips around her clit, he sucked in time with the thrusts and curls of his fingers, his eyes were glued to her face. Her head was thrown back, and her face was scrunched up tightly as she worried at her lower lip with her teeth. He loved watching her cum. He could feel her pulsing around his fingers and knew she was close to it. Just then, he picked up on the sound of laughter coming from further down the trail. It sounded like whoever it was was still a ways away, and they were shielded from view. He could tell that she hadn’t heard them. Not wanting to make her worry, he sped up his thrusts, and added his tongue to the assault on her clit. . She moved against his mouth, her fingers flexing and unflexing in his hair. He could tell the people were getting closer, and in a moment of sheer desperation, used his free hand to tweak on her clit, and pierced the skin of her inner thigh ever so slightly. She came then, his name combined with a breathless scream. Vincent usually liked to keep going as she rode out her orgasm, but he didn’t have time. With lightning speed, he pulled away from her, and pulled her dress back over her still trembling thighs. Still riding out her waves of pleasure, she looked at him in confusion. He wiped his mouth clean on his arm, and grabbed her underwear, shoving it in his pocket. He knew he couldn’t do anything about her clearly pleasured face, or his disheveled clothing, but hoped that the shade of the tree would work in their favor. He sat down next to her, and pulled her halfway into his chest.

“Vincent, what is your problem??” she asked, angrily. He opened his mouth to answer, as the voices became audible from the trail outside the bushes. She stared up at him wide eyed as a look of dawning embarrassment crossed her features. She buried her face into his chest, as the laughing couple came through to the clearing. They gave a wave towards Vincent, before crossing through the clearing to the other side. Vincent pulled her face from his chest, gently poking her cheeks.

“They’re gone,” he said softly. She just let out an embarrassed groan before trying to rebury her face. 

“No wonder you speed up,” she said, muffled against him. And he had to laugh. She soon joined his laughter, and he handed her back her underwear as he brushed the dirt from his clothing. Once they were decent, he hugged her close to him again, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“Thank you again,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful here. Just like you are. Now that I’ve had a quick meal, go find a spot to pose in while I set up.”

She slapped his chest lightly at his cheeky words, but flashed him that breathtaking smile of her before settling down, making sure to hike her sundress up every so slightly to keep at her thighs at full display. She sent a jaunty wink and smirk at him before staring off into the distance. Letting out a sigh, Vincent forced himself to set up his easel and canvas instead of giving into her teasing. One thing was for sure, sundresses were bound to be the death of him.

[creativelyderangedme]

The Boy in the Blizzard

Happy @mlsecretsanta to @normalfanaccount!! I hope you’ve had an amazing holiday and an even better new year! You said you were a big Mari Stan, so I focused on Adrinette!  Fluff, Angst (VERY SMALL AMOUNT), Friendship/family bonding, Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis:  It’s the last school day before winter break in Paris, and the miracuclass are all excited for the holidays and the time they’ll spend with family! But when the weather takes a sudden turn for the worse and half of the city experiences a blackout due to a massive blizzard, everyone finds themselves set free to rush home, celebrating the early start to their vacation!

Well - almost everyone. Adrien ‘sunshine’ Agreste finds himself left out in the cold. 

But have no fear. A certain ‘Everyday Ladybug’ may just have the powers necessary to help them both brave the blizzard. And maybe, just maybe, work a little winter magic to bring them closer together than ever before.

"Class, settle down! I know you're all excited about the holiday break," Madame Bustier called for attention at the front of the room, a knowing smile on her lips even as she reprimanded the boisterous students under her tutelage, "but please keep it down while your peers finish their tests."

No one could blame Madame Bustier's students (or any student in the school for that matter) for being as rowdy as they were. Not even their teacher; despite a third of the Class still working diligently on the multi-paged literature test, scribbling their answers quickly so they could spend the rest of the period hanging out with their friends.

Even as the students quieted, the restlessness was still palpable through the room. Teenagers are itching for the day to end and winter break to begin! 

Of course, there was also something to be said about the energizing effect heavy snowflakes falling and whiting out the world just beyond the classroom windows had on a group of teens.

Every few minutes, a handful of eyes would peer up at the white-washed skies, a mixture of anxiousness and excitement for what the view could mean.

"I'm still shocked they didn't call for a snow day when the forecast changed for the worse this morning," Alya whispered for the third time since their second period began to her bestie and seatmate, and Marinette did little more than nod.

As a teenager longing for that extra day off, she agreed. As a superhero in a time of magical terrorists and emotionally driven villains? Well, she couldn't fault the Mayor and Ministry of Education for that one. When classes were so often disrupted or canceled due to Akuma attacks, the Ministry was hard-pressed to meet parents' concerns. Which meant snow days were probably a 'last resort only' sort of thing.

Understanding that didn't make it any less frustrating for a teen counting down the seconds until the holiday break.

Marinette had plans, after all. And several friends (and partner) related gifts to finish and wrap before delivering them in time for Christmas day. 

Of course, as she was wont to do, thinking of gifts brought her attention to the head of blonde hair in front of her—the boy of her dreams, leaning over slightly to whisper animatedly to his seatmate. A dreamy sigh would have escaped her had her attention not drifted to the carefully wrapped gift lovingly nestled and burning a hole in the backpack sitting on the floor at her side.

Given her luck (or lack thereof) when giving Adrien gifts in the past, the aspiring fashion designer had been fighting herself, gathering the courage to give him the present—and failing. Because, frankly, she was starting to wonder if she was cursed or something? How many other people could claim they'd had their handmade gifts stolen and causing the end of the world - what the hell? 

Barring anything cataclysmic and world-ending this time—what if he didn't like it? What if he took one look at it and laughed and called her a joke and told his father to ban her from the industry and-

"Marinette!"

The call hadn't been loud at all, but the sudden proximity of the voice to her ear, while she'd been distracted, made Marinette squeak loudly, drawing several giggles from her classmates and a raised brow from her teacher. 

Sheepishly, she muttered a soft apology before turning a pointed look on her best friend, who giggled softly behind her hand, "Sorry, Girl. You were so spaced out I couldn't help myself."

All the fight left her in one quick sigh, "No, it's fine. I should have been paying better attention."

"What had you thinking so hard over there?"

The reminder did little to settle her stomach or nerves. Both only worsened when she glanced up to indicate towards the boy who occupied most wayward thoughts and found he and Nino had turned around and was watching her, waiting for her answer. 

What escaped her mouth was less of a handful of words and explanations and more like a series of mimicked animal calls.

Awesome. 

If she didn't have the courage before, she definitely didn't now.

And they were looking back at her with strange looks and soft grins at her awkwardness, and she could feel her face flushing with each passing second and - dear god, could this get any humiliating?!

Marinette had just opened her mouth to explain herself when the room went dark, and everything went quiet with a dying hum. 

Well, as dark as it could get with the large windows allowing muted light in past the winter storm raging outside.

A rumble of whispers and panicked looks washed over the students as they waited for the school to come humming back to life, but nothing came. 

"Everyone settle down! I'm sure there's nothing to worry about! Please stay in your seats while I check in with the Principle." Madame Bustier announced as she wrapped her coat around herself and exited the room, sending a frigid breeze through the door before it closed behind her.

"Do you think it's an Akuma?"

God, she hoped not. Marinette shivered again, this time, not just because of the new coldness in the room. An Akuma meant going out and fighting in a suit less insulated than anyone gave it credit for in the middle of a storm. And being Ladybug meant she was more sensitive to the cold than she'd otherwise usually be.

"I don't think so," Adrien announced, having turned to the rest of the Class, but gaze focused on the device lit up in his hand. "There's a report that a big part of the city is experiencing rolling blackouts due to the storm. I think this is a disaster of the natural kind this time."

If she hadn't been sitting as close as she was, she would have missed the quiet "thankfully," he added under his breath as he moved to put his phone away.

The curiosity piqued by the mumbled comment vanished, though, as the buzz from his phone had him pausing before frowning down at whatever had popped up on the screen.

"Adrien?"

Emeralds darted up to meet her, and she had to swallow the rush of nerves to get her next words out with minimal stumbling, "I-is everything alright?"

He blinked momentarily before offering her a well-practiced smile, "Yeah! Everything's fine." His reassurance was quick. As was the apprehensive glance, he threw at the windows.

But the way he smoothed that nervousness over with a warm grin made her think he probably hadn't meant for her to see it. And as much as she wanted to press the issue, Marinette respected his desire to leave it be.

Cold air rushed into the room once more as the door opened and closed quickly behind a shivering Madame Bustier, patting herself off of the lingering snow that had stuck to her in her trek through the open-air commons area.

She had everyone's attention before she'd even opened her mouth to call them to order, "Alright, listen up, everyone! With the quickly turning weather, the school had already been in the process of contacting your parents to let them know that the school would be closing early, but with the Blackout, we have no choice but to send you all home as quickly as possible."

There was an excited murmur picking up as everyone began to chat with each other before Madame Bustier cleared her throat, "With that said, Happy Holidays, everyone! And I will see you all in two weeks! Please be safe getting home, and don't forget your projects due the first week back! I don't want to hear any excuses about late work."

And with that, the students clamored to gather their things and wrap themselves in their winter gear to head to the locker rooms to get any remaining materials they needed for the break. 

It wasn't long before Madame Bustier's Class was all saying their goodbyes at the front gates, promising meet-ups and fun times over the break.

"Nino and I are going to head back! We've got a blizzard date! I'll catch you later, Girl!" Alya waved enthusiastically as she grappled arms with her boyfriend and dragged him away into the storm.

Marinette chuckled at the couple's antics watching until they disappeared around the next block's corner.

An uptick in the wind made Marinette take in the weather and the heavy snowflakes falling fast into the streets. Visibility was worsening by the minute. The snow fell, making the sky hazy like a heavy fog and the day darker despite being early afternoon. The frigid wind swirled around her, making her wrap her coat tighter around her body.

She should be heading home soon before she and Tikki became bug-icicles.    

The class rep nodded to herself and glanced around, satisfied that all of her classmates were already mostly out of sight or on their way.

Good.

With one last glance around, Marinette was about to take a step out into the snow when she had to stop herself. She nearly slipped on the steps with how quickly she spun to what had caught her attention.

Surely she was mistaken. She could have sworn…

But no. Even when she blinked a couple of times, the scene before her was unchanged. 

Right there, just hidden off to the side of the school's entrance, bundled up but still looking oh so cold as he pressed himself back under the small respite the school's roof gave the door, was Adrien. 

His blonde hair was what had caught her eye. But it was the rather distressed frown he shot something in his hand before glancing between the quickly dwindling crowd of students and the streets rapidly piling with snow. 

How hadn't she noticed he hadn't left yet?

And why was he still here?

A glance of her own pretty much answered her question, though, as cars that had managed to approach the school were quickly finding themselves stuck and unable to move much without some help from someone with a shovel.

His driver took him everywhere. So if they hadn't already been on the way or close, there was a good chance his ride wasn't coming. 

So why was he still just standing there in the cold, she wondered.

Well, standing there speculating wasn't going to get her any answers. Marinette took a deep, steadying breath, straightening her back and glancing down to the reassuring pat and smile from Tikki before pushing herself forward to approach the blonde.

"Adrien?"

Bright emeralds snapped up to her. The way he gripped his satchel's strap and fidgeted made it seem like he was almost… embarrassed for having been found, "Oh, uh, Marinette, I thought you were headed home."

She tried offering him a soft smile, even as a wary thought that she hadn't noticed him because maybe he hadn't wanted to be seen occurred to her, "As Class rep, it's part of my job to make sure all my classmates make it out safe."

A delicate blonde brow furrowed at that, almost worriedly, "But doesn't that mean you might get caught in the blizzard?"

God - beautiful and empathetic? What a dream-boat. The man upstairs broke the mold when he made this one, she decided. Then had to quickly shake herself out of the dreamy reverie as Adrien waited for her to reply, "N-not really. I live right across from the school, after all."

He chuckled, but the mirth didn't quite meet his eyes, "Right. I almost forgot about that."

"What about you? Why are you still here?"

The fidgeting was back, "Oh, well… father wants me to wait for my bodyguard to arrive." His eyes skipped back to the device in his hand, his expression slipping back to a frustrated frown before a defeated sigh brought a tired gaze back to her. "I told him I could walk, especially when half the city is in a blackout. But he wouldn't hear it. Said there would be consequences for disobedience."

No, this was more than tired. This was the face of someone who'd fought many battles against authority and lost every single one. And it broke her heart - for about two seconds before his words really sunk in, and she was suddenly furious.

"But-but it's freezing out here!" This time, the stutter in her voice was more from the anger and less about her debilitating crush, and she punctuated her words with a wild gesture to the building snow. "And the school is going to shut down soon. Who does that to their son?"

He gave her a small smile at her outburst, after recovering from the shock - it wasn't often she would be so outspoken around him. But it was enough to get the tension to leave his shoulders, "Father's always a little uptight around the holidays. And he just wants to keep me safe. I get it. I really do. I just wish he'd… I don't know… listen to me every once in a while, I guess. Is that stupid?"

"Of course, it's not stupid, Adrien. everyone deserves to be heard."

This time when he smiles, it's warmer, more genuine, "Thanks, Mari."

But that didn't solve his problem. Adrien was still stuck waiting in a blizzard for a ride that was likely not coming. 

And as the class rep (and definitely nothing to do with her crush on the guy), it was her sworn duty to make sure he was safe too. It takes one quick glance over her shoulder towards home and one back over Adrien (who is shivering but trying to hide it, the poor boy) for Marinette to make up her mind.

And grab his hand, pulling him out into the snow and down the school steps with her.

"Wait! Mari, where are we going?"

She just barely peeks at him behind her, trying to focus on not losing her footing and sending them sprawling into the snow, "To the bakery! It's nice and warm at my house, and my parents are sure to have plenty of pastries they didn't sell today! They'll need help eating them all!"

From where she's peeking at him, she sees Adrien's eyes light up, and even as he peers back at the school, she can tell his resolve is wavering. Even still, there's hesitation in his voice, "But what about my father?"

She shrugs even as a fresh wave of panic sets in. But she can't let her idol scare her away from taking care of the lo- one of her very good friends. "If he wants to blame someone, he can blame me. But I wouldn't be doing my job as class rep if I just left you here in the snow, now would I?"

He chuckled, still looking unsure, but following anyways, dragging less behind her as her reasoning set in, "I guess you're right. And I would hate to get you in trouble."

"Exactly! So off to the bakery we go!" Marinette crowed triumphantly, pumping a fist into the air, earning yet another amused chuckle from the blonde behind her.

The walk to the bakery isn't long, but it feels like it takes much longer as they navigated the slippery roads, piles of snow, and harsh winds. What would typically take no more than five minutes takes them at least fifteen before finding themselves in front of the darkened storefront doors.

"Guess the bakery was hit by the blackout, too," Adrien observed as Marinette pulled the doors open with some effort, opening them enough to allow Adrien to slip in before closing them behind them.

Darkened as it was, it was still light enough from the windows to allow them to see the empty seating area and two figures bustling just beyond the counter and register.

It wasn't even two seconds before both figures glanced up to give them happy smiles as the two teens shook off the snow from their clothes. "Hello, you two!" The calm and melodious voice of Marinette's mother rang out.

"Maman, Papa! You remember Adrien, right?"

Her mother's warmth radiated from where she stood, melting the bitter cold from the outside just with the sweet smile she gave the young man at her side. "But of course! Hello, again, Adrien. How are you?"

He smiled back, politely, "I'm good. Thank you, Madame Dupain-Cheng."

"Adrien's ride isn't here yet, and with the way the snow keeps piling up, it likely won't be for some time. Could he -"

The hulking figure of her father came to wrap an arm around her mother as he spoke, "Stay and help us eat all these pastries while the snow blows through? Of course, he can! You two take your school things upstairs, and we'll eat something tasty!"

Adrien's face lit up like a Christmas tree as he turned to Marinette - like he needed her permission too. Despite having been dragged here. Despite her less-than-necessary pleading with her parents. It warmed her from the top of her head right down to her toes to see him so happy to be accepted and wanted. 

But it also made her so very sad. 

What must life be like for him to be so genuinely thrilled by the idea of an offered snack shared with a friend? A place to hide from a raging storm? What kind of loneliness must he experience if this was considered out of the norm?

It was then that Marinette decided that for as long as he was there, no matter how she felt about him or how he felt about her, she would make sure that he knew how much he was cherished and wanted. 

Time seemed to fly by as they rushed up to deposit their bags in Marinette’s room, before racing down to the living room where her parents had set up plates with food stacked high. Together, they ate pastries and drank hot chocolate warmed by a propane burner her mother brought out for occasions such as this. All are sitting in the living room of the Dupain-Chengs, keeping each other warm just with the company they're keeping, and while they did, watching people bustle in the storm outside.

There were a couple of families out with kids playing in the snow. Building snowmen that would be buried before the hour was out.

It was fun getting to watch them play.

Marinette peers up at Adrien, and her smile falters as she sees the longing look in his eye as he watches on, a forgotten half-eaten pastry in his hand. 

"What is it?"

Adrien's cheeks warmed a bit at having been caught staring, his gaze fixating on the pastry and steaming cup clutched in his other hand, "It's nothing. I just… I hadn't played in the snow since mom- well when I was much younger."

Just how much childhood was the boy robbed of? 

This wouldn't do at all. No siree. Not if she could help it.

"Would you want to?" Marinette asked unassumingly, like she asked if he'd pass the sugar, making the blonde glance up at her confused.

"Want to what?"

A playful grin broke out over her lips as she brought her own cup up to take a sip, "Play in the snow!" She takes a healthy bite of croissant, pointing it at him, "You can't not go out and play in the snow when a blizzard comes to Paris!"

"Would you really?"

He looks so excited; she has to fight a giggle. "We shouldn't right now since the power is still out. But once it's back, we could. But only if you want to."

"Mari, that would be-"

"Adrien, dear? Is this your phone?"

The festive atmosphere seems to come to a screeching halt. The blonde's face drains as he glances up and sees the device in the woman's hand. The caller ID is lit up with an incoming call, and even from here, Marinette can read the name. Uh-oh.

Adrien climbs to his feet, making his way over. He answers the phone, and everyone in the room can tell. His father is enraged. His voice is booming through the receiver, and the blonde can only open his mouth, sputtering where he can to get a word in edgewise.

"Father, listen, please-!"

"Of course not. I'm with a friend and left my phone on the-." 

"Marinette. I'm with her and her family at their ba-"

Desperation and frustration are filling the boy's features quickly as he's interrupted at every turn.

"Father, please! It's too dangerous and-"

Suddenly Marinette's mother takes the phone and gives Adrien a soft smile before speaking into the receiver. "Hello? Monsieur Agreste? Yes, this is Marinette's mother, Sabine Dupain-Cheng. I'm sorry for interrupting your conversation, but it was our idea to have Adrien join us. Surely you've seen the weather? We couldn't just let the poor boy stand out in a storm waiting for a ride that wasn't coming."

While they could not hear the words, it was clear Gabriel Agreste was angry as his harsh tone came through the phone.

But it wasn't long before Sabine cut him off, ice in her words, colder than the storm raging outside.

"M. Agreste." She spoke calmly, but in that way that demanded the room's attention. "Are you telling me you'd rather your son brave, what is possibly the worst blizzard Paris has seen in decades, risking not only his health and safety but also the health and safety of those who would attempt to retrieve him? Rather than trust his care to my family? Surely you wouldn't suggest something so absurdly asinine."

The line goes silent.

The room is silent too. 

Would someone dare suggest something like that? By the look on her mother's face, she hoped not.

"That's what I thought. Now, since the storm isn't set to pass until sometime late into the night, it might be best that Adrien stays with us. I promise he will be well taken care of, and once we deem it safe, he will be returned home. Is that agreeable for you?"

While it's phrased as a question, there is very little room for argument in how she presents the option. 

There must have been an answer on the other end because Sabine is nothing but warm smiles once more as she says, "Wonderful. I'll put Adrien back on." and hands the device back to the blonde, who stares on like he's just witnessed a supernova.

"Hello?"

There is the briefest of pauses before Gabriel relays something and then hangs up.

"H-He said I could stay." Adrien whispers in disbelief before he turns starstruck eyes on her mother, "how did you do that?"

The woman chuckles, but the sound seems suspiciously darker than usual to her husband and daughter, "it's a skill all mothers know dear. Never mess with a mama bear." 

Before he can ask her to elaborate, she changes the subject back to the two teens finishing their snacks, "Since the power is still out, it would be best if you both went and gathered up some warm blankets from upstairs and brought them down. We'll find ways to occupy ourselves, hmm?"

Having just witnessed the consequences of a mother scorned, both teens merely nod before Marinette leads the blonde up to her room, passing him her coziest blankets and pillows. She gathers up a warm sweater for herself before turning to Adrien. He looks so awash with emotion. It's bubbling just under the surface, and she knows he's just barely holding on. 

If memory served, this was probably the first 'sleepover' he'd ever had.

On the other hand, he's clutching all the blankets she gave him, and he's practically nestling into them. Like a cat pawing and kneading and rubbing themselves over a spot they intend to sleep, Adrien has effectively buried himself in the pile of blankets where he stands, and she can't help but giggle.

He looks so soft and warm and cozy in the things she has to physically stop herself from joining him. 

"What?"

"Sorry, it's just, you look so happy like that. And warm." A blush began to break out over her cheeks, and she couldn't quite meet his eyes anymore. Choosing instead to look down at the sweater in her arms. 

Which had her gaze shifting towards the abandoned backpacks on the floor where they'd left them earlier, and the carefully wrapped gift just barely peeking out of hers.

Was it wrong to take advantage of the situation? Was it okay for her to be giving him a gift in these circumstances? What if he hated it so much he decided to leave and he got stuck in the blizzard and froze to-

"Marinette?" Adrien's soft call pulled her out of her spiral as she looked up into his concerned gaze, "Are you alright? You looked really pale all of a sudden. Do you need help going back downstairs? Is there something I can do?"

He looked a little panicky himself, and the sight made her heart sing.

He was worried. About her. He wasn't the type to be insensitive with someone - not the way she feared. And the revelation was enough to set her resolve. 

She shook her head softly, smiling as she went to the bag and took great care pulling the gift out to cradle it to her chest before coming back to stand in front of the blonde, holding it out to him without another word.

Emeralds bounced between her face and the neatly wrapped box in her hands before he set the blankets on the nearby chaise lounge, "I-Is this for-for me?" his tone was a little breathy, a little awestruck.

Not trusting her words, Marinette nodded quickly, placing the box in his hands.

"Can… is it okay if I open it?"

This time the Girl giggled, nodding again before she lost her nerve.

He took great care in opening the gift wrapping, unfolding it almost reverently, before finally pulling open the lid to find a cream knit pattern inside. Pulling the garment from the box, Adrien held up a thick knitted sweater - chunky yarn woven expertly into one of the softest pieces she'd ever made. She'd been so proud of it. 

And the boy holding it looked like he was nearly in tears. "D-did you make this?" He asked softly, running his fingers over the pattern.

"Do you… like it?"

"I love it. It's the best gift anyone's ever given me." He whispered, watery eyes finding hers. Lips trembling despite the softest smile she'd ever seen. "It's so warm and soft."

Before she knew what was happening, he'd engulfed her in a hug so tight she couldn't breathe, but not once did she complain.

"Thank you so much." He whispered into her hair, and if she felt the tell-tale wetness of a few shed tears, she kept it to herself as she wrapped her arms around the boy who had wrapped himself securely around her heart, "Thank you for everything." 

That day, as she watched him put the sweater on over his lighter shirt, wearing it with pride to show her parents (and then the day they went back after the break, telling anyone who would listen that it was his gift from the most talented Girl in all of Paris), she swore to herself and the blonde that he would never be left out in the cold again. Every year, she'd make him something else that would be 'the best gift someone had ever given him'. 

He'd always find warmth. Even if they were buried in the snow, she would be there to make sure he'd always be able to brave the blizzard.

[partywithponies]

hi! i've only ever seen the bbc version of father brown and i've never read the books (i know, i'm so sorry), but i'm super curious about the different versions of father brown and you seem like an expert on each adaptation, so i was wondering if you'd be willing to give me a rundown of sorts on each version/series? i know it's a lot to ask and i may be opening the floodgates here, but there's not a ton of info online elsewhere and i'd love to learn more! thanks either way. ciao!

OH BOY YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE ANON

OKAY SO

As briefly as possible:

The books:

Proof people who complain about the BBC show being “too political” don’t actually know the books at all

Father Brown straight up calls capitalism “evil” and “heresy”

Chesterton says that millionaires dying isn’t a tragedy

Inspector Valentin betrayed us and broke my heart, ACAB I guess

Since every police officer he befriends lets him down in some way, Father Brown’s only real friend is Flambeau, who he goes absolutely everywhere with. They only go on holiday with each other. They’ve been all over the world with each other. I love they

Book Father Brown pretty much never does his goddamn job. We literally never in all the books see him giving mass or taking confession. The closest we get is when he gives an impromptu sermon after seemingly coming back from the dead, where he literally only says "You silly, silly people. God bless you all and give you more sense." then runs away to send a telegram. Useless priest. I love him. 

Book Flambeau is. Incredible. Amazing. Iconic. None of the adaptations have been able to fully capture book Flambeau’s true energy, for he is a walking contradiction who contains multitudes. If all the onscreen Flambeaus fused into one being, THEN you’d have something vaguely resembling book Flambeau.

Book Flambeau is MASSIVE. He’s at least 6′4, he’s broad shouldered, has huge hands, and his super buff. He can just. Pick people up and throw them. He can knock people unconscious with one punch. He fills doorways when he stands in them. He terrifies most people just by drawing himself up to his full height. He also has a very short temper and a very short patience. 

He’s very agile and athletic and can move silently, despite his size. He’s also a master of disguise, somehow. (Explain, Chesterton. Explain. Is everyone in this universe apart from Father Brown, Flambeau, and arguably Valentin massively stupid? Actually don’t answer that I’ve read these books)

Book Flambeau has a habit of flinging people full-bodily down flights of stairs when they anger him or threaten him or Father Brown. Book Flambeau also carries a walking cane with him literally everywhere that has a sword concealed in the handle, plus book Flambeau insists on taking pistols on holiday with him, even when he was just going for a peaceful fishing holiday in the Norfolk Broads. King. 

(Which all makes it so iconic that Father Brown, described as tiny and meek and sensitive, saw this man when he was still a hardened criminal on top of all this and said “THIS ONE I LIKE THIS ONE. I JUST THINK HE’S NEAT” and went off on a jolly through London with him.)

Flambeau’s past is extremely mysterious. We no nothing about his family or his childhood or where he’s from or why he turned to crime. We know he used to be a soldier, and a part of him misses it. We know he used to fight duels semi-regularly, and liked them to be fought the very next morning after they were organised. We know he always used to make sure to visit the dentist on time, even when he was a hardened criminal. (King of good teeth.)  We know he was in a gang at some point. We know he was a student at some point. We don’t know what he studied, but we know he knew Leonard Quinton in “wild student days in Paris”  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). This is literally all we know about his past before he met Father Brown. The man is a riddle wrapped in an enigma. (That’s why Flambeau is so big. He’s full of secrets)

(Fun fact: in the book universe Flambeau is famous and popular in America, so you could say that in universe Flambeau is America’s Favourite Fighting Frenchman.)

Flambeau also loves cats and children, believes in fairies, likes pointing out rocks that look like dragons, and likes giggling and mucking about on the beach with Father Brown.  A baby.

One time Father Brown called Flambeau “full of good and pure thoughts”, but I don’t think that’s quite true, Father. I think Father Brown just has endless faith in Flambeau.

Another thing I think is really neat is that it would’ve been so easy to have Father Brown be the genius and Flambeau his dumb muscle sidekick but that’s not the case at all! They’re both geniuses and they’re both each other’s sidekick, and in fact it’s Flambeau who’s the famous professional private detective, Father Brown is just an amateur. Father Brown is often defined by his connection to Flambeau rather than vice versa, both in the text (the text will frequently refer to them as something along the lines of “Flambeau and his friend the priest”, and on two separate occasions a long list of Flambeau’s possessions is ended with “and a priest”), and in universe (Father Brown himself is massively famous in America in universe largely because of “his long connection to Flambeau). I don’t know I just think it’s neat. 

One time a man threatened Father Brown with a gun and Flambeau just beat him unconscious and then Father Brown and Flambeau just drove away and left him unconscious on the path. It was awesome.

(I’m sorry I rambled about Flambeau for so many words I just. Really really like Flambeau you guys. Father Brown and Flambeau are like two separate crime drama character tropes, the hard boiled cynical P.I. and the cosy eccentric amateur detective, but together as a double act, and I just think that’s really cool.)

Father Brown himself is if anything even more mysterious. He’s just “Father J. Brown, formerly of Cobhole in Essex, currently London”, and he’s “Flambeau’s friend”, and that’s all. That’s all he needs to be.

I also really really love Father Brown himself. I love that he’s allowed to be cheerful and optimistic and childish without any of this making him less clever, and in fact he’s shown time and time again to be cleverer than grumpy cynics who are scornful of childish things. Like, the whole giggling childlike thing isn’t even some kind of act, he’s a genius who understands true human nature, and he also really really likes puppet shows and building sandcastles who telling fairy stories, he really does get a “childish pleasure” from seeing Flambeau swing his sword-stick, and he really does have “strong personal interest in tomfoolery”. I love him.

I must share my favourite book quote about Father Brown himself: “But neither of them is very like the real Father Brown, who is not broken at all; but goes stumping with his stout umbrella through life, liking most of the people in it; accepting the world as his companion, but never as his judge.” uwu uwu uwu I’m cry.

Chesterton just subverts all the expectations character wise, the cheerful bumbling priest is a genius, the violent criminal is a true hero, the noble police officer is a corrupt self-serving murderer. It’s great. We stan. 10000000/10

(I’m not very good at being brief, am I?)

Father Brown, Detective (1934):

The first movie! It’s completely ridiculous. I love it a lot.

It was released just at the start of Hays Code, which, among other things, stated that crime and immorality should not be glorified or glamourised, and all crime and immorality must be seen to be punished by the end of the film. In practice in the case of this film, this means two things:

Paul Lukas!Flambeau is the only Flambeau to actually go to prison (and stay there).

He’s by far the Flambeau who deserves it the least. Lukas!Flambeau never hurt a soul. He just wanted to be loved. #FreeMyBoyHercule

Okay but in all seriousness. There’s a reason I call Paul Lukas!Flambeau “Himbo Flambeau”. Where other Flambeaus are violent or dangerous or geniuses, Lukas!Flambeau is just a big dumb idiot who respects women and has a great sense of humour and writes all his letters in the third person like Elmo for some reason. I would die for him.

At one point Flambeau in disguise is talking to the police, and when the police criticise Flambeau, disguised Flambeau says “Oh but I assure! I have read many things about this Flambeau! He is a fearless, handsome fellow!” The absolute idiot. I adore him with my whole heart.

The film is set in London, like the books, but an idealised Hollywood version of London, i.e., almost entirely unlike London.

Walter Connolly!Father Brown is also entirely lacking in braincells. Look at these two idiot men:

I love them.

Oh oh! And the most important thing, the thing that carries over into most other adaptations? NEW ORIGINAL CHARACTERS!!

This movie invents a few characters that weren’t in the books, but the most important ones are Mrs Boggs:

She doesn’t really add much to the plot but she’s funny and I love her so I’ll forgive it. 

She’s Father Brown’s housekeeper, she’s basically just the fussing maternal female character archetype who fusses around in the background, but she does it well and plays it with charm so I’ll allow it.

(Honestly this whole film is just. Not *technically* good or original, but just so charming and with so much heart that I unironically adore it.)

She tries to make Father Brown drink his milk because it’s good for him even though he doesn’t like it, and keeps checking back in on him to make sure he’s drunk it, it’s literally like a mother and her small child.

She objects to policemen in the presbytery because of their “big muddy boots on the carpet” but is fine with just letting Flambeau in whenever despite the prevailing rumour in London being that Flambeau killed a man. We stan a queen of having priorities. 

When Inspector Valentine summons Father Brown to the station, Mrs Boggs pops up in the background, assumes Father Brown’s being arrested, and says “Oh dear, I knew it!” and it makes me giggle like an idiot every time.

The other, more important original character invented for this movie is my girl Evelyn Fischer:

I love her, I would die for her, she’s flawless.

She’s basically your typical bored and rebellious young aristocrat, but she has a chaotic streak that I adore.

She sneaks out of her family’s mansion to go to a seedy underground club/illegal gambling ring in Soho (I mean I assume it’s Soho, a seedy part of London in that general vicinity, at least. I’m not about to get bogged down trying to understand the geography of London according to Hollywood), flirts with a bunch of strangers for fun, then when the police raid the place and everyone else is panicking she stands stock still, cheerfully says “Oh goody, I shall probably get my name in the papers!” and has to be physically dragged out of the building by Flambeau.

Later on Flambeau breaks into her bedroom in the middle of the night and she’s just very calmly like “What are you doing?”, and even when she finds out it’s Flambeau, a man widely believed to be dangerous and violent, instead of being scared, she calls him an idiot right to his face.

She forms the third part of the main trio of the movie with Father Brown and Flambeau (RIP to Valentine, demoted to tertiary character in a loose adaptation of the one (1) story where he was the main character lol) and together the three of them share a single braincell and have to take turns with it, while Mrs Boggs fusses in the background at the trio’s increasingly bonkers decisions. 

The movie ends with Father Brown and Evelyn sharing an emotional farewell with Flambeau through the window of a police car and promising to look after each other until Flambeau’s released, wow poly rights.

The Adventures of Father Brown (1945):

The adaptation there’s the least amount of information about, but I’ve done my best to find everything I can find on it.

An American radio show made towards the end of wartime, it’s a bit of an odd one, and believe me Father Brown adaptations have gone some odd places.

Only two episodes survive, or at least if more do survive then whoever has them is being very selfish and hoarding them to themselves because only two episodes are publicly available anywhere, and the audio quality of those is a bit dodge. (Though that is to be expected, they do appear to be home recordings, from 1945. Honestly we should be grateful to even have two full episodes.)

If the actors I’ve found are the right people, this show featured by far the youngest Father Brown and Flambeau, at the start of the show the actor playing Father Brown was only 36 and the actor playing Flambeau was only 27. They’re BABIES. (Honestly I’d like to see more age variation in Father Brown adaptations, as I have extensively rambled about before, the characters have literally no canon ages in the books, I think people ought to be a little more imaginative instead of always building on the adaptations that came before, even if it is really cool to see traces of all the previous adaptations in each new one that comes along. It’s something I haven’t noticed as much in adaptations of other golden age detective novels, but the Father Brown adaptations do seem to be stuck in some kind of game of “yes, AND” with each other. I would REALLY like to see an adaptation where Flambeau is older than Father Brown though, it's just something we've never had before despite there being literally nothing in the books to suggest this can't be the case, and I just think it'd be neat.)

This show is really really painfully American, in a real old fashioned "golly gee whizz mister" kind of way, to the point it almost feels like a parody, and I honestly find it kind of endearing.

Even Flambeau frequently slips into a very American accent to the point that my affectionate nickname for him is "The All-American Flambeau", and it's great. He's great.

Honestly I could accept the accents and the slang, for some reason the only thing that really threw me was Father Brown referring to money in cents and nickels.

Needless to say, this adaptation is not set in London. It is instead set in Generic Unspecified Smalltown USA. It's fine. This is fine. I already have so many films and shows set in London, I can swallow my London pride and let America have this.

It's hard to get a real grasp on characters from just two episodes, but I like this Father Brown and Flambeau, even if they are a little overly serious, and even if Flambeau doesn't really do much. He may be a bit serious and a bit useless but All-American Flambeau stays up late anxiously waiting for Father Brown to get home safely and it's very sweet. What a good boy.

All-American Flambeau also carries handcuffs around with him for some reason? But no weapons? Why is All-American Flambeau one of the few Flambeaus not to have a gun? Oh well, he's still sweet.

The 1945 radio show also gives us some original characters, but they're very much side characters and not part of the main plot and it's very hard to get a good grasp on a character from just a few minutes of audio from just two episodes but here's what I could gather:

Nora is another fussing housekeeper! She seems younger and less maternal than Mrs Boggs, but I don't know if that's just because the whole cast was on the younger side. (Could the radio station not find anyone over the age of 40? Were they in short supply in 1945 or something? Ah well.) She seems dedicated to helping Father Brown get some peace and quiet that he never goddamn gets because someone always goes and gets themselves murdered. In both surviving episodes a knock at the door disturbs Father Brown’s rest, Nora opens it professionally, sees it's Flambeau, and immediately drops the professionalism and is immediately like "oh it's only you", so I can only assume every episode started this way. I do hope so.

Father Peter is a junior priest who answers to Father Brown and takes over his duties on his days off. He's implied by the dialogue to be considerably younger than Father Brown, Nora, and Flambeau, but if their actors are anything to go by then they're not that old themselves, and though Father Brown seems to talk to Father Peter like he's a literal child, he is still a priest so I very much doubt that's the case. He seems sweet and harmless, but he's only in one of the surviving episodes and only in that towards the end and mentioned briefly at the start, so it's hard to judge completely. It's highly unlikely that the reason he's not even mentioned in the later surviving episode is because he turned out to secretly be an evil murderer, but, this being a Father Brown adaptation, not entirely unfounded. (But no, he's probably just a sweet boy who exists to have exposition delivered to him.)

Father Brown/The Detective (1954):

The Alec Guinness movie! The one haters of any of the other adaptations complain that adaptation isn't more like, but in my humble opinion, actually the worst adaptation.

Like, I don't hate it! The cast is mostly stellar actors and if I just saw it as a movie on its own, it'd probably be fine. But as a Father Brown adaptation watched in context of the books and the other adaptations, it has a few issues imo.

Most glaringly it has Tone Issues. This film cannot decide if it's a comedy or not. The original posters certainly marketed it as one (see above) and half the cast are noted comic actors who were famous at the time for comedy, goddamn SID JAMES is in it, but the entire third act is played painfully straight, half the cast is mugging for the camera and trying way too hard to be funny while the other cast is giving extremely serious and subtle performances, like. I have no problem with a Father Brown adaptation being played for laughs, and I have no problem with a Father Brown adaptation being played for drama, both can work beautifully, but just PICK ONE, PLEASE

All of my other gripes with the film are very petty and nitpicky, this film calls Father Brown and Flambeau "Ignatius Brown" and "Gustav Flambeau" even though Father Brown has the canon first initial "J" and Flambeau has the canon first name "Hercule", and I hate it a lot. "Ignatius and Gustav" is the second worst thing any Father Brown adaptation has ever done to me.

My other petty nitpick with the movie is that it makes Flambeau literal nobility. The man is a duke. In my opinion Flambeau should always either have a completely mysterious past or be a nobody who came from nothing, someone who grew up with land and title and many servants and a family coat of arms, living in a whole entire castle with his family name and coat of arms engraved into the side of it, growing up and stealing from people, is a whole lot less sympathetic in my opinion. Like to be fair his parents are dead which is sad I guess and his castle has seen better days, but dude. You still own a castle. People who live in castles do not get to lecture other people about materialism.

THAT SAID, Peter Finch is still the best thing about the movie. I love all Flambeaus dearly, even the ones that are little bitches. He’s a bit of an emo “oh woe is me” sadboy, but he’s very charming, and actually good at disguises and being undercover, get dunked on Lukas!Flambeau.

Guinness!Brown likes to feed ducks and Flambeau calls him “the angel with the flaming umbrella”, which makes my inner Good Omens fan who loves finding parallels between Aziraphale & Crowley and Father Brown & Flambeau go 👀

There is one really good scene, in the Paris Catacombs. And by “good” I mean “really really bafflingly gay”:

I truly, truly do not understand how this scene was written, directed, acted, filmed, and edited without ANYONE saying “hey lads does this seem a bit gay to you?”

Father Brown, literally lying on top of Flambeau and pinning him to the ground, whispering: “I would like to set you free.” Flambeau, softly, gently smiling while his face is literal inches away from Father Brown, who is still pinning him to the ground: “Ah, now I begin to understand what you are.”

What the fuck, you guys. What the entire fuck. This scene keeps me up at night.

ANYWAY

This film is also not set in London. It is instead mostly set in a rural English village, and partially in Paris and partially in rural France. Paris is fun but I miss London.

This film also has some original characters. I should probably talk about them. 

This is Lady Warren:

She’s Father Brown’s friend, and she’s a Lady, and that’s all I can really tell you.

She’s very well-mannered and dignified and sophisticated.

She gives me the vibe that she exists solely because the writers decided they needed a female character but then remembered at the last minute they had no idea how to write women, so as a result she is almost entirely irrelevant to the plot. I don’t want to say I don’t like her, because she’s done nothing wrong and it’s not her fault, but like. Why is she here? Poor thing, she deserved to be plot-relevant, really.

She lives in a big mansion and owns some very nice things, and she gets annoyed when she invites Father Brown to lunch but he just stares blankly into space thinking about Flambeau the whole time. (Mood honestly FB. Me too.) 

She flirts a bit with Flambeau in one very pointless scene that came the hell out of nowhere, went nowhere, and was never mentioned again. It was like the writers realised how gay the previous Flambeau scene was and suddenly tried to convince me this man is a hetero. Nice try, writers. You can’t fool me that easily.

The other main original character is Bert:

Alright, own up, whose bright idea was it to put Sid James in a Father Brown movie?

Bert is a smalltime criminal who’s a friend of Father Brown, who Father Brown protects from the police, but tries to convince to get on the straight and narrow by getting him as a job as Lady Warren’s chauffer. 

This is would be fine, were it not for the fact he’s played by Sid James, who only knows how to play Sid James, and is just Sid Jamesing it up in every scene. I don’t have anything against Sid James. I like my fair share of Carry On films. But Sid James does not belong in Father Brown and I want to fight whoever decided he did.

Father Brown (1974):

LADS LADS LADS! It’s time for the first TV show, and it’s time for my favourite boys:

Oh! OH! How I love Kenneth More!Brown and Dennis Burgess!Flambeau. They’re just. So cute. My two special boys.

Not only that, but LADS! We’re finally back in London!

A gritty, dirty, London in the 1930s no less, with cool London buses and political unrest and grimy pubs and the constant threat of world war. Alexa this is so cool play London Calling.

In one episode Flambeau gets verbally abused by an anti-immigration right-wing zealot. :( My poor boy. :( 

(But it’s okay, shortly after Father Brown witnesses this, the racist shows up dead in exactly the place Father Brown earlier said would be a good place to commit a murder. Now I’m not accusing Father Brown of murder, BUT)

This show made the bold but valid decision to skip Flambeau’s redemption arc and start the show when Flambeau is already a seasoned and respected private detective who’s lived in London and been Father Brown’s closest friend for many years. As a result this Father Brown and Flambeau are ridiculously domestic with each other. Look at this peak Old Married Couple energy:

Oh! I just love them.

I would love to know how Burgess!Flambeau’s redemption went down though, because Burgess!Flambeau is BY FAR the least repentant of all the reformed Flambeaus. He proudly boasts about his crimes, he still believes he “deserved to succeed”, he still proudly talks about how “daring and outrageous” he was, which begs the question of why did he stop at all? Literally the only explanation I can think of is that he’s literally only doing this for Father Brown’s sake, which. uwu

Oh GOD I love Burgess!Flambeau. Obviously I love all Flambeaus a lot, and choosing a favourite feels like choosing a favourite child, but let’s just say: if the Flambeaus WERE my children, Burgess!Flambeau would be quite spoilt. My ~ Daring And Outrageous ~ boy.

More!Brown and Burgess!Flambeau are both really really socially awkward, uncomfortable in crowds, and nervously say “oh dear” a lot. They really are ridiculously cute.

They also only giggle and joke and act silly when they’re together, when they’re apart they’re both sort of sad and quiet and withdrawn. (This makes episodes Flambeau isn’t in a bit harder to watch because Father Brown is just kind of lost and lonely without his emotional support Frenchman, with three notable exceptions: that time Father Brown infodumped about the mating habits of whales at the Father Superior for a solid minute, that time Father Brown met a dog and reacted with unrestrained delight, and that time someone mentioned former criminals in passing and Father Brown’s whole face lit up and he started gushing about how Flambeau was living in London now and doing very well as a private detective, completely unprompted.)

This show also brought back book!Brown and Flambeau’s habit of always going on holiday together! Wonderful! We love to see it!

This show is also the first time in the entire Father Brown franchise where gay people are overtly acknowledged to exist! And Father Brown is non-judgemental! A roman catholic priest written in the 1970s and living in the 1930s who canonically isn’t homophobic! I have no choice but to stan forever!

You remember what I said about liking to point out Good Omens parallels? WELL

Kenneth More!Father Brown and Dennis Burgess!Flambeau both live in London

Burgess!Flambeau lives in a brightly lit, pale walled, airy and spacious, modern (for the time) London apartment, while More!Brown prefers gothic architecture and lives in an old, grey, cramped, stone building absolutely full floor to ceiling with books

They go out for intimate candlelit dinners for two at very fancy London restaurants 

Desperate people come to Flambeau because he “knows the game on both sides of the fence”

Father Brown responds with a quiet and miserable “oh dear” when asked to actually do his job instead of just watching plays and drinking wine

Father Brown calls Flambeau “my dear” at times and it personally kills me

I mean. I’m just saying.  👀

Now, isn’t there a third important character in the books? 

Oh yes of course:

HIM! THE BASTARD MAN! INSPECTOR VALENTIN HIMSELF!

(Nobody understands him! IT’S NOT! EVIL!)

This show is the literally only adaptation to include the Valentin betrayal and I’m not gonna lie. It’s a very difficult episode to sit through, it’s far darker and grimmer and more depressing than you would ever expect from Father Brown, but my god it’s done so well. Especially considering the teeny tiny budget they clearly had, only four sets are used the entire episode and the whole thing takes place inside Valentin’s house, but even that adds a certain claustrophobic atmosphere and just. It’s done so well.

I think the entire budget went on gore effects because the decapitated heads in this episode are disturbingly realistic for the time the show was made and genuinely grim to look at. Not to mention the intense downer ending.  Not to mention this was THE FINAL EPISODE OF THE SHOW

THE INTENSE DOWNER ENDING OF THIS EPISODE IS HOW THE WHOLE SHOW ENDED

God it hurts so much but I lowkey love it. 

Father Brown Stories (1984):

The second radio series, and the first BBC adaptation! 

Thrilling times for fans of actors being the right nationality for their characters, because after previously being played by a Hungarian, an American, an Englishman, and a Welshman, Flambeau is finally being played by a Frenchman, Olivier Pierre!

Father Brown himself is played by Andrew Sachs, Manuel himself. 

Not gonna lie. It’s kind of hard to figure out how to explain the radio show.

We’re? Maybe back in London? Honestly it’s really unclear.

Pierre!Flambeau is kind of adorable. He’s described as looking like book!Flambeau physically, huge and buff and terrifying, but he has literally none of the temper or predisposition to violence. 

Pierre!Flambeau doesn’t speak very good English at all, and oftentimes will react with “...What?” when he hears a strange English idiom or turn of phrase.

One time he says “Perhaps we should.. push on? SEE HOW I AM MASTERING YOUR ENGLISH IDIOMS” and it’s the cutest thing that’s ever happened.

To try and get better at understanding both the English language and the English people, Flambeau starts obsessively reading Alice in Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass, massive giant adorable boy.

One time Father Brown gets complimented of being academically minded and well read, and then asked if Flambeau is also a keen reader, and when Flambeau tries to say no, Father Brown interrupts and proudly and earnestly says “Oh yes! Monsieur Flambeau is one of our top Lewis Carroll scholars!”, it’s honestly adorable.

This adaptation finally uses “John” as Father Brown’s first name, as it should always have been! I love it!

This series said FUCK Father Brown having a mysterious past and no former friends or relatives! Now he has siblings, and friends who knew him before he was a priest who still call him “John”!

Father Brown himself speaks in a very sweet and soft and wavering way that makes my heart melt.

Sadly and unfortunately, I have to acknowledge the final episode of the show, which is the top worst thing any Father Brown adaptation has ever done to me.

It’s. It’s a crossover. With Sherlock Holmes. Actual goddamn Sherlock Holmes is in it. I hate it. I hate it so much. “Elementary, my dear Flambeau” shut the hell up, if this Flambeau won’t fling you down a flight of stairs then I will.

I deliberately avoided all Holmes-related media for THREE YEARS only for the awful man to spring up on me in Father Brown?? How could you do this to me???

I’m going to yeet myself into the sun, bye everyone.

(On the plus side, the Sherlock Holmes episode does have one of Father Brown’s parishioners recognise Flambeau as “a close friend of Father Brown and a frequent visitor to his room”  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), so that’s nice I suppose. I’ll still never forgive the writers of this show for putting me through this.)

Father Brown (2013):

YOU ARE HERE.

I kind of see the current TV series as a culmination of all the adaptations that’ve come before? I can definitely see echoes of all of them in it.

And it’s great! I really really love it. I love it a lot. 

I think about it daily.

My one and only complaint I would have is that Flambeau isn’t in it enough. Not just because he’s my favourite, though I’d obviously not be fooling anyone who’s read all this if I said he isn’t.

And it’s not that I don’t love the show as it is, and find the one Flambeau episode a series always something really special, so I don’t know what I’d have the writers do, exactly. 

But it’s just. In literally every other version of Father Brown, Flambeau is the second most important character and the second main protagonist, and to have him in this show so little that some fans or reviewers call him a “minor character” and others call him a “recurring villain”, though I myself don’t see him either of those ways of course because he’s still Flambeau, it’s just kinda sad and painful, y’know?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being silly.

Hopefully he’s a regular in at least the final season of the show. If I don’t get my favourite partners in crime solving I’m rioting. 

Anyway that’s my “””brief””” rundown on all the main versions of Father Brown!! I hope you liked it!!

[willowaudreykeyes]

I’m Afraid, Your Cute And We’re Both Stuck; Let’s Cuddle

@surohsopsisofclouds asked for (red 11) Wings and (purple 12) Spirits from here and I took the ‘spirits’ prompt and just made it into a Haunted House/fears thing and I hope that’s alright

@sparrowofsong​ @5am-the-foxing-hour​ @ladyedwina​

Pairings:  Romantic Intrulogical, Background Romantic Roceit, Background QPR Patmile

Warnings: Swearing, wings, collapsing structure, claustrophobia (fear of tight spaces), mentions of thalassophobia (fear of the ocean), fluffiness, my fear that Remus isn’t in character by the end of this

-----------------------------------------

Remus

Two stories tall, with dull brick walls and the occasional broken window. A stereotypical haunted house; recommended by Patton of course. If Virgil recommended one, it’d have reviews about a real ghost that made the rooms go cold and maybe a fork being thrown across the room. This place reeks of machinery and fake, money-grabbing tourism.

I glance up at the sound of wings, not fully turning towards it as I’d know my brother and best friend's wings anywhere. Roman has those huge angel wings that everyone swoons over because of their power and fluffiness; while Jan-Jan has awesome looking yellow-green scaled ones that he’s still self-conscious over since they’re often stereotyped to be with ‘evil’ people. 

So now I’m surrounded by winged-ones. Patton’s Puffin wings press tightly against his back as the sound of shattering glass, that’s been happening every five minutes on the dot, while Virgil’s huge Wedge-Tail Eagle wings fluff up despite knowing that it was going to happen again. At least Roman and Janus didn’t react as much, despite it being a shock to them

“You two are being fucking pussies.”

“Language, Em! And the shattering sound is scary… I can’t help it.” Patton should have brought his life-partner with him as it’d be more fun with more people. I guess after the last haunted house that we took Emile to, he wanted to be able to actually sleep this October.

“We’ll go inside soon, Pat. Is Logan here yet?” Oh yeah, that guy that I’m supposed to be meeting. Forgot about him. Virgil and Roman made him sound so boring, but they also made Remy sound boring before I met the guy while he was dealing with caffeine withdrawal. 

My foot sends a small stone flying as Virgil checks his phone; tsk-ing quietly as he starts typing. “He’s inside already. In the upstairs piano room.”

“I thought we were gonna meet him out here?” Oh my god; I’m going to die from boredom and haunt this place for real if I stand out here any longer. So I grab my jacket from the ground, throw it on and quickly slip between the fence bars instead of grabbing a ticket. No one’s watching anyway.

“I don’t care! I’m going in- Bye!”

“Remus! Wait up!”

Happily ignoring Roman, I slip in through an unlocked side door and fight the distant sound of doors slamming by letting my stomping echo through the house as I head upstairs. This place sucks at scares if they’re resulting in slamming doors, but I can probably piss off some employees if I can find one of their hidey holes. And finding this ‘Logan’ and messing with him would be a nice bonus.

Taking a glance into each room -and ignoring the bad jump scares of fake ghosts played by underpaid, teenage actors- I finally find the piano room Virgil mentioned with someone standing at the far end, by the window. Despite the poor lighting, I can tell that he’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and that his dark hair has been attempted to be slicked back. Perfect posture, hands held behind his back, shoulders tense; I may even be seeing a pair of those fancy black shoes that a lot of the richer kids in the area have. 

I shake my head as I step into the room, followed by an eerie creak in the floorboards. The guy spins around and I manage to see dark eyes behind some glasses before my legs suddenly give way.

One second I see those dark eyes, then the next I’m on the floor with sore arms and a heaviness on my back. A muffled voice, sounding close but layered beneath some kind of fog, gives me the energy to push myself off my stomach and onto my knees before I’m suddenly feeling exhausted.

Those eyes are in front of me again, but this time are a whole lot closer and also no longer as difficult to see that they’re a dark blue; as if the lighting has changed. With a quick glance around, I realise that it has. Because now there’s a broken piano, some splintered wooden pillars, a floodlight that looks like it’s been forgotten about, the walls showing their insides, and a giant fucking hole in the ceiling.

“What the hell...” This guy better have some answers- there’s no way that I should have fallen through the floor. But he looks just as roughed up as me, with some sawdust and a black feather in his now unkempt hair and his tie -who wears a tie to a haunted house?- is hanging around his neck. His huge, ruffled, pitch-black wings of some corvid don’t look injured at least. 

He… didn’t have wings a moment ago.

The guy must have noticed me staring at them, as he motions behind me wordlessly as he stands and brushes himself off. Something twinges in my gut as I turn slightly, only to find myself looking at the dusty wings of a hummingbird. They’re small and rather thin looking, but covered in blues and greens and a few hints of red. They flutter as I try out the new limbs, tearing another part of my shirt in the process. But who cares? I just grew two new limbs.

I’m pulled to my feet, my vision spinning slightly and a tightness in my chest makes it a little harder to breathe. My eyes drift back to the guy in front of me who seems like he’s not as stupefied as I am at what the hell just happened. “Uh… There’s a feather in your hair.”

His eyes widen as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, catching the feather along the way and taking a second to pocket it before nodding slightly. “Thank you.” I hear him taking in a sharp inhale as his wings twitch as they try to stay off the dirty floor. There’s no point as they’re covered in dust and dirt already, but he seems stubborn enough to keep trying. “As unexpected and strange as this encounter was, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Logan Crow.”

“Oh! You’re that guy I’m supposed to be meeting- Wait, your last name is ‘Crow’?” I point at the black masses on his back. “And you have those wings?” His brows dip in slightly; just enough that he looks kind of cute. I wonder what all of his other expressions look like...

“Purely coincidental. And you must be Remus Aurelian-”

Something grinds together, echoing the sounds of wood against metal and of a highly taught string snapping from the pressure. Logan’s wings move so that the joint sits higher than his head, ready to fly him away from danger; if only he actually knew how to fly.

I swallow with a dry mouth as I finally realise how small of a room that we find ourselves in. Not that the small amount of space is an issue. Nor that the room seems to be also empty, besides the useless, broken piano. “We should probably leave.”

“Agreed.” The door to the room is just a maintenance one; small enough to not draw attention to it the other side, while large enough to push through wood or something to fix these pillars. They obviously haven’t done so in a while...

It’s rusted hinges squeak with resistance until one of the screws pops out of place as I manage to push it open. But as I attempt to crawl through, a stab of pain flows up my back and shoulders as my new limbs hit the top of the door frame. I try again, wincing this time as I attempt to squeeze through until I’m dragged back inside by the leg.

“I can’t fit through that! Are you fucking kidding me?”

“If you can’t, I surely can’t either.” Even with my tiny-ass wings that may or may not be able to carry me in the future -something to worry about another time- we’re stuck in here unless we suddenly figure out how to fly. In this small room, with not even a window in it. Just four walls that seem to have gotten closer than the last time I had paid attention to them. “I’ll text message the others, see if they can get the operators of the house to help us.”

Standing up doesn’t help the irregular waves of nausea that continue to hit me, but it’s better than how hard it is to breathe when I’m sitting. “But that’s going to take ages!” Except now it’s both hard to breathe, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. And I feel light headed. And my legs don’t want to hold me up anymore. A deep growl escapes my throat as I kick the stump of the closest broken pillar, making a few extra chunks fly off of it. “Why the hell did they make half of these rooms so damn tiny!?”

I kick it again until a hand sits firmly on my shoulder. It’s weird that I already feel so much for this guy, as anyone else would get an elbow to the ribs for touching me while this nausea keeps attacking me. I move away instead, huffing a bit while also taking in a few deeper breaths. “Are… Remus, do you happen to be claustrophobic?”

“What? Fuck no.” I can almost see Janus raising his eyebrow at me; always somehow knowing when I’m lying. It’s just some stupid fear that everyone thinks that I got over years ago. I can last until someone comes to grab us. Maybe sitting down will help...

“I know that we have only just met, but I will ask if you need comforting right now. And before you say that you don’t need it; you are shaking.” The nausea fades into chills and a heavy stone in my gut as I look at my hands as the ground gets a little closer. I close my eyes, hoping that I can just imagine that I’m outside or in a huge cathedral with furniture and lots of room to run around. My hands aren’t shaking; they can’t be shaking. If Roman or Patton or Virgil- anyone knew that I would turn into this wreck just because I’m in a tiny space, I’d never hear the end of it. Being afraid isn’t… It’s not me.

A comforting warmth makes me jump, sliding me off of my pins-and-needles-filled legs. Something slides in behind me, with one hand on my waist and the other helping my wings fold before I’m pulled into a chest. Logan’s chest. When the hell did he wrap his wings around me? 

“I’m not great at this…”

“It’s cool.” I go to say ‘me either’, but instead decide to relax into him. My chest still hurts and it's still harder to breathe then what I’d like.

“You were crying.” 

“I didn’t notice.” Well fuck. What a great first impression this has been. He doesn’t sound judgemental, and he has his wings around me, so he mustn’t think too badly of me. Probably...

“Are you alright?”

I shake my head, sighing as he adjusts the both of us for a few seconds before he finally seems comfortable. “Don’t tell anyone that this happened. They uh, don’t know.” All of my usual drivel and weird flirts are weirdly vacant from my head. It’s weird since that’s the usual, but it’s not bad. I don’t think I’ve felt this comfortable since I was a kid. “The claustrophobia thing, I mean.” 

“Ah. Of course. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Logan seems shy; that’ll be fun to fuck with later. A distant scream from the haunted house brings his arm further around me, and I definitely get a smug smirk because I know that Roman didn’t get cuddles for weeks after meeting Janus. Logan may be a little awkward but holy shit, I already love this.

It's too quiet though; I can hear how bad my breathing is and it’s making me way too self conscious. “I’m gonna eat a full squid in front of Roman to cheer myself up after this.” He stifles his laugh too. Oh, he really is a shy one! And he doesn’t get grossed out easily from the sounds of it.

“They do have three hearts that could be used to help you scare him, but I’m unsure if they are also edible. It may depend on the species.” He hesitates for a moment, moving his head to look down at me, judging by how he’s moving. Roman did say that he was a nerd, but not about stuff that’s actually cool. “I do know that they use two for their gills while the third sends blood to the rest of the body.”

He stops again, this time tensing up the shoulder that I’m using as a pillow. With a huff, I reach up to pat his face before closing my eyes; getting comfortable enough to try and forget where we are. “Keep goin’, you’re nice to listen to. Got that sexy teacher voice thing going on.”

I’m exhausted, but manage a chuckle after his sputters for a moment. He starts talking once more as the hand that’s wrapped around me lightly tapping a rhythm against my side.

“Oh, uhm, alright. I myself am afraid of the ocean, as we have mapped far more of Mars then it and it confirms that over ninety percent of the world is in the dark, but it is rather fascinating to know that ninety-five percent of life on Earth comes from our Ocean’s-” I get to listen to Logan talk endlessly about cool facts, wrapped in his large wings, while being comforted about some silly fear as we sit inside of a partially collapsed room? I think I could get used to stuff like this.

[effieduan]

GIVE RIO JOB 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 | Rio & Effie

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @effieduan

SUMMARY: Rio’s ability to afford groceries is called into question.

CONTENT:  No Triggers!

Effie sat at the counter, tinkering with a giant black box. It was a monster, a dinosaur, and an absolute disgrace to modern computers. But Florence wanted it back in suitable working condition because it was “so simple”. Effie learned early on in this business that it was important to give the customer what they wanted -- even if she thought she could give them a better experience. Florence was elderly, and she could understand wanting things to stay the way they were. And truthfully, after Effie was done with this big old dinosaur, there wouldn’t be much to complain about other than its size and heavy weight -- that reminded her. She would have to schedule a drop off at Florence’s apartment. Watching the little old woman waddle in carrying that thing had almost given her a heart attack. She was working on replacing the cooling fan when she heard the door jingle as someone entered.

She would have preferred to be in the back sitting in her workshop, but that meant  she would have to constantly be getting up from her work to come out front whenever a customer came. Annoying. She poked her head up over the harddrive to get a look at her customer. “Just a second,” she said, swiftly hopping off the stool, placing her tools on the counter, and grabbing her lime-green gloves. She looked at the boy. College student, most likely. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Did something break?”

In a lot of ways, a shop like this should make Orion feel right at home. Ever since he was old enough, he practically lived on his computer if he wasn’t reading. Nowadays, he did a lot of his reading on the computer anyways, with the scribe archive coming along. It was slowly but surely growing, and Rio was starting to find it easier to find information through the database instead of skimming through the books like he always had to before. Of course, there were probably thousands of books still unaccounted for, but he had tried to prioritize to get some of the most common books translated first.

If his pastimes weren’t enough, then his old second major made a shop like this feel even more familiar. Computer science had always felt like more of a means to an end than an actual passion, but he had still picked up on a few things in the first two years before he had dropped it to focus on history and mythology. After all, the groundwork for the database had already been built thanks to Winston’s help. That was what Rio had wanted the degree for in the first place.

Now, Rio just needed work. Money wasn’t exactly tight. His parents had left behind a generous amount split between himself and Athena, and despite the size and grandeur of the home that he currently lived in, his living expenses were surprisingly cheap. Perks of only paying utilities he supposed. Still, a steady income wouldn’t hurt. And despite the change in majors, Rio still knew enough about technology that a place like this could be a potential job option. If they were hiring that was. “Hey there.” Rio gave a small wave when the woman behind the counter spoke to him and slid closer to the counter. His fingers began tapping against it rhythmically as he considered his words, “Nope. Nothing broken here. Not technology anyways” Rio rattled off, letting his words slowly fade as he realized this was not the best conversation starter, “I was actually just wondering if you knew if this place was hiring? I’m sort of looking for employment.”

Effie stared at Rio, mouth opening slightly in surprise. “... Employment…” Effie said slowly, as if she didn’t quite understand. Truth be told, she didn’t understand. She was quite clear that she was not looking for any other staff for her store, even if Eva told her she was being ridiculous because she would get so much more work done if she had someone watching the front counter while she sat and worked on orders in the back. And what did this boy mean by nothing broken - at least not technology. Was that a Gen Z thing? Was she so old that she was starting to call things gen z things? Was she going to rage war on middle parts and baggy jeans next? Effie had to shake herself out her head, reminding herself she was going to live long enough to see Gen Z 10.0, to stare at the boy. He was… Skinny. And polite enough. Effie’s snarky comment of why didn’t you check the website’s F.A.Q before coming in here died on her lips. “Uh -- “ Effie coughed. “I own this store,” she said. “My name is Effie Duan. And I’m not - I mean, I’m not really looking for employees.”

The woman, who turns out was the owner of the store, didn’t seem especially thrilled about the idea of Orion asking if she was hiring. Apparently, that wasn’t something she did a lot of. Or maybe at all. Rio had passed by the store on a few occasions, had only actually popped inside once or twice to check the place out, but he clearly remembered her face from each visit. Did she have any other employees, or was she running this place all by herself? “Oh! That’s awesome. Hi there. My name’s Rio. Technically it’s Orion, but nobody calls me that except my family.” Rio exclaimed, holding a hand out towards the woman as a means of introduction. He quickly backtracked to correct himself, “Er- well I guess my family used to call me that. Now nobody really does.” Well that was awkward. Definitely not the greatest first impression. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you or anything.” Rio bit at his lip. Well there went another option. Was he cursed to live on his family’s money in that oversized home forever? Could that even be counted as a curse? “Do you uh- run this place all by yourself? Because that’s crazy impressive. How do you have time to do everything?”

Effie’s gaze shot down to the hand he outstretched to her as if it was going to bite her. She did not like contact, especially with humans. Well, especially with anyone. Still, that’s why she wore the gloves. They were the solution and the reason she could be around people. Effie quickly recovered and reached out to shake his hand, hoping he didn’t mind the feeling of rubber. “Orion,” she said. “Rio.” Only his family called him Orion -- had called him… Something flashed in Effie’s memory about the doctor and business owner that were brutally murdered, leaving behind their children. She didn’t remember the girl’s name, but she did remember Orion because it had been one of  Eva’s favorite constellations growing up. Then again, Eva’s favorite constellation changed every week - maybe she just remembered Orion because she would get poked in the side with a stick shrieking and giggling. Now that was a reason Effie never wanted to have kids. Her demeanor softened though, realizing that this kid was on his own now. She felt that familiar, heavy feeling in her chest -- like whenever she looked at a frustrated old woman who just wanted her dinosaur hard drive fixed or a man that just wanted a stupid gaming system repaired because it meant a lot to his father. Effie cursed under her breath, straightening slightly. How hard must it have been to have your parents murdered and now had to provide for himself?

“You’re not a bother, Rio,” she said shortly. “It’s just - I mean, I do run this place by myself. It’s my store - my business, I mean. I’m open Monday through Friday, from 9-5 and then on Saturday’s from 9-12.” Officially, at least. More often than not, she was here, open late or early because it wasn’t like she did much. “So … Well…” Effie looked at Rio. God, could he afford groceries? He was so skinny! “What - What experience do you have?” she asked, lamely.

Orion tilted his head curiously as Effie repeated his name, followed by his nickname to him. “That’s me.” Rio responded quietly, trying to figure out what Effie was thinking about. Clearly something was processing. She was still looking up towards him, but she wasn’t meeting his gaze, instead staring past it. She must have been lost in her thoughts, the same way Rio did. “That sounds busy.” Rio agreed, listening to her hectic schedule. While RIo tried to keep himself busy too, none of his hobbies were exactly time sensitive besides his classes. She was bound to this schedule to run a business. Owning a business in general was way more stress than Rio thought he could handle. Being the sole employee was another thing entirely. She surprised him when she asked about his experience. Hadn’t she just said that they weren’t hiring? “Oh well uh-” Rio considered her question. Technically, he didn’t have much. Not officially. “Well I used to be a double major with computer science as one of those. I’m still a double major, just not computer science anymore. But I learned quite a bit in the first couple of years. I’m pretty decent when it comes to like coding and stuff.” Rio scratched at his neck nervously. It wasn’t like he could exactly show off the database he and Winston had built. Not without looking completely insane. “And I also worked as an assistant in my old job, taking calls and talking to people that came in. It uh- burnt down last year.”

Gears were churning in Effie’s mind as she stared at Rio. He certainly had a series of unfortunate events happen to him. Parents murdered and his job burnt down. Other than making sure some poor college kid could afford groceries, she would get her sisters off her back. It wasn’t only Eva that thought she worked too much. Not to mention if this kid could code, he was likely smart enough to learn how to fix phone screens and the like so she didn't have to waste time with those while she worked on her larger products. Not to mention, if she didn’t have to answer the phone or talk to people… Temptation was something Effie learned not to engage with a long time ago because it only led to disappointment and more self loathing than she could handle. What would she do about this kid’s safety? Make him wear gloves? “A couple of years in computer science is certainly better than nothing,” Effie said finally. “What do you study now?” That seemed like a decent question to ask. She could put him in a full rubber suit, though she wondered if that would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. It wasn’t like the feds would believe it was just her version of wrapping him in bubblewrap.

But how many incidents did she have in her shop? She was comfortable here in her shop and her apartment. Other than making the lights flash when frustrated, she never had done anything dangerous. The danger happened when she inevitably had to go outside. “Look, Rio,” Effie started. “I think -- Why don’t we try it out?” The words fell out of her mouth, surprising herself that she was going through with it. “Obviously, you’re a college student, and I don’t expect you to work all the hours my store is open. We can adjust to your schedule so you can have a healthy class life and social life as well as adequate free time to decompress.” Now she sounded like Eva, who frequently lectured her about what it was like to actually live. Not an option for her. She looked at Rio, before remembering something. “Oh, and I should… Probably check your references.”

[penaltbox]

downtown’s dead - mike vorlicky

Feedback is always super appreciated! Let me know what you like, what lines stood out, or anything else you want to say! 

Word Count: 2.1k

__

Mike looks around the bar, a frown setting in that he doesn’t even feel, as he picks at the label of his beer bottle. He should be having fun. He had no reason not to be having fun. He was out with the boys and had no responsibilities at all that night... but he still wasn’t quite in the mood for bar hopping and flirting. He knew where he’d rather be even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud. 

__

You sit down on the couch in your apartment, glancing down at your phone but knowing better. He was out with the guys and he’d told you that would be the plan two days ago when he’d spent the night. You had told him to have fun and planned for a much needed relaxing night in. 

You can’t help the sigh you let out, even though you knew you weren’t supposed to be hearing from him. It was always supposed to just be a hookup for the two of you, but as always, someone is bound to catch feelings and it happened to be you. You loved spending time with Mike whenever he wasn’t too busy, and even though it was “just a hookup” as he said, he was also pretty public with you. It made for some mixed signals at the least. 

You’d gone out together, he hung around your place and your friends pretty frequently, and he’d even admitted he cared about you a time or two before. The only thing missing from it all was him being willing to commit to a real relationship and it felt like that might never come around. 

__

Mike checks his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes when Owen finally calls him out. 

“What’s your issue, Vorlicky? Your girl not checking in to see if you’re safe?” Owen teases, a little smirk crossing his face. Everyone knew Mike had it bad for you but he was the only one who wouldn’t admit to it. 

Mike scoffs, trying to play it off like he usually did, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but no. It was the family group chat. My mom had a question for my brother and I.”

The lie rolls off his tongue easily but Owen is less than convinced. He doesn’t press the issue though and just nods before turning his attention back to the conversation he’d been in before interrupting Mike’s daydream. 

Mike runs a hand through his hair and checks his phone again. When had he started to get like this? He didn’t mean to catch feelings for you but he definitely did. Now he seldom spent a day away from you and it was starting to scare him. He figured a night out with the boys would fix all that but all he wanted was to call you and crawl into your bed. He swore it was easier to sleep with you next to him but he’d deny it if the guys ever asked. 

Maybe if he got his mind off you then he’d be able to move on. Maybe then he wouldn’t worry about what you were up to at every minute of the day. He notices Shay and Dylan keeping the attention of a few girls and he wonders when the last time he tried to turn the charm on was. He figured now was a good time to try. 

He walks over and claps Shay on the shoulder but he smirks at the girls standing there. One looks up at him and flashes him a quick smile. He knows she’s up to no good and he entertains it. He introduces himself and starts up his usual questions: what’s your major, where are you from, and what do you think of hockey players. 

“And so yeah, hockey is like super awesome,” she nods, finishing her ten minute explanation of why she just loved hockey. 

Mike is pretty sure she hasn’t ever watched a single game in her life and he only hears maybe every third word she says. He’s not drunk, not even close, and he knows he’s not listening because he’s comparing her to you. Her hair is shorter and not something you’d probably ever like to try, she wears heels and he knows how you feel about heels at the bar, and most of all Mike can tell she’s got her makeup caked on. 

The girl leans in and squeezes his arm, mumbling something about going to get another drink. He knows he’s supposed to offer to buy hers since he’s been giving her all this attention, but he’s faking it. He shakes his head a little and leans closer. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry but I need to go. I hope you have fun tonight though,” he apologizes, giving her a tight smile. He doesn’t miss the disappointment on her face but he can’t play games any longer. 

He turns and catches Ryder’s eye, who had apparently been watching him long enough to know what was going on. Ryder shakes his head at Mike but he’s smiling at the same time. 

“You’re going to her place, aren’t you?” Ryder asks once Mike makes his way over. A little shrug of his shoulders is the only answer that Mike provides, but they both know better, “tell her I said hi. We won’t wait up for you tonight.”

Mike feels a little lighter for a moment and pulls out his phone. He opens the messages between the two of you, ones that go back months and months now, but he locks his phone again and puts it away. He figured you won’t be upset if he just showed up. 

__

You finish your glass of wine and rinse it out in the sink, shutting off the kitchen light on the way out. You walk over to the windows and look out at the city below you. People were going in and out of buildings all over, but none of them were Mike and you certainly weren’t with him. 

You frown, hating that you felt so dependent on him, and decide that maybe it was just time to go to sleep. You double check the locks on the front door and head into your room without even checking your phone. You go through your night time routine and just as you’re setting your toothbrush back in its spot you swear you hear a knock on the front door. 

Your heart rate picks up a little because there’s no reason anyone should be stopping by, but another knock confirms that someone is definitely on the other side of the door. You suck in a breath and quickly tiptoe back out, not turning on any lights and somehow not stubbing your toe like you half expected to. You lean up to see out the peephole and immediately start swearing under your breath as you whip the door open. 

“What the hell, Mike?” You ask, pushing his chest. 

He gives you the most confused look ever as he grabs your wrist, “what do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t show up in the middle of the night and scare a girl like this!”

You let out a little laugh and he relaxes then, letting your hand go. He thought you were legitimately upset and he’s more than happy to find that you were just caught off guard. He smiles then and goes to walk in, but you put an arm up on the door frame. He gives you a questioning look that you return immediately. 

“I thought you were out with the boys tonight?” You inquire, looking him up and down. He was certainly dressed like he was ready to go out, but him being in front of you said otherwise. 

He shrugs, trying to play it cool, “I did go out, but I’m done now.”

You squint a little as you ask, “and the boys? They’re done and back at their places too?”

Mike’s cheeks start to redden a bit and you have to fight off a smile. Had he really bailed on the boys to come hang out with you? You missed him, of course, but you definitely expected to not see him until at least the next day. 

“I was done. Am I allowed in now?”

You step back and let him walk in, locking the door all over again and turning towards him. He has his hand sticking out, waiting for you to grab it. It’s silent between the two of you, but it feels charged. It feels like there’s a lot unsaid between you both. 

You let Mike lead you over to your couch despite the fact you were definitely ready for bed. The lights from the city pour into the room, leaving it illuminated enough to not need any other lights. 

“I tried to flirt with someone tonight,” he admits, trying a couple times to meet your eyes, but he keeps glancing away. 

You frown, a weird pit forming in your stomach, and all you can say is, “oh.” 

“I couldn’t do it. I don’t even know what her name was and I know she wasn’t as pretty as you.”

You snap your eyes up to look at him and squeeze his hand that you still haven’t let go of, wanting more of an explanation. 

“I always said I wouldn’t date in college. It’s supposed to be when you have fun and go out. You get to meet new people all the time. I guess I didn’t expect to meet someone I’d like so much,” he says quietly, but he looks up finally to make eye contact. 

Your heart feels like it could pop out of your chest at any moment and you really can’t fight the smile off that makes its way over your features. 

“Mike,” you mumble, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “are you trying to say you like me?”

“I think you knew I liked you,” he says, but he’s still blushing as he does, “but I didn’t really know if you felt completely the same.”

You bite your lip and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, watching as he relaxes under your touch, “I tried really hard not to like you. I figured it was a one or two time thing when we first hung out, but it just kept going. Then I told myself that I couldn’t fall for you because you were a hockey player, and well, that apparently didn’t matter.”

Mike smiles at you, his eyes going a little wide as he realizes what you were saying, “so you do like me? Like you don’t want to go to the bar and flirt with someone else either?”

You laugh and shake your head at his question, “no, Mike, I don’t want to go flirt with anyone else at the bar that isn’t you.”

“So maybe we give this a try? Because I can’t handle going downtown again and trying to act like I wouldn’t rather be with you,” he says honestly, giving you a bit of a sheepish smile. 

You lean in, kissing him slowly and softly. You think you could probably kiss him forever if the real world didn’t intervene with it, but you take what you can as often as you can with him. You lean your forehead against his and soaking things in for a minute. 

“Ryder says hi,” Mike whispers, a little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I love that boy,” you smile, watching Mike’s expression quickly turn a little sour as you amend the statement, “but not the way I love you.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking as he mumbles, “you got so soft on me. Who are you anymore?”

You laugh and push away from him, knowing damn well he was the one who’d gone soft. You start to walk towards your bedroom but he catches your wrist quickly, tugging you back against him. 

“I was planning to spend the night?” He asks, his tone unsure despite the fact you’d never told him he couldn’t. 

You smile at him, giving him a little nod, “I don’t care if you spend every night here from now on, but I’m a little wine drunk and I’d like to get to bed.”

He hears the implication in your voice and before you can react he picks you up bridal style and heads toward your room with you giggling the whole time. He was even more happy with himself for bailing on the boys now. 

[akinnie75]

White Hibernation

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 31k...lol

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Extreme Slow Burn, Fantasy

Summary: The tale of the Winter Bear is about a grizzly bear that’s the only bear in the entire world who doesn’t hibernate during winter. He’s considered strong for being able to fight sleep. However, being the only bear awake during winter gets lonely. So during every winter, he makes friends with children and takes their soul to be with him forever. And somewhere down the line, you get involved into the fable.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?!”

Your agent, Lee Suniya, screams from the top of her lungs on the other side of the call. You keep your phone at a safe distance from your ears. You sigh exasperatedly, standing in the center of the living of your cramped, one-bedroom apartment.

Despite Suniya’s aggressive scolding, you only focus on your apartment. It’s early in the morning, never realizing how blue your apartment is. It isn’t necessarily a bold blue, more so a faint blue, naturally peeking through your blinds due to the sunrise barely at its peak. All of your furniture—couch, coffee table, vase, lamp—is white, so it only makes the baby blue stand out more.

Maybe I should change my place up a little, you think to yourself.

However, your plans for redecorating your place are disrupted by the continuous rampage coming from Suniya. Her anger only worsens your annoyance toward her. “Did you not hear a single thing I said?! Is your head empty??”

“No, can you repeat everything?”

Suniya groans frustratedly then goes silent for a few seconds before returning. “Never mind. Did you at least look online?”

Your eyes move down to your laptop that’s sitting by the edge of the white, pristine coffee table. It’s on, and it’s an article called: ‘Winter Bear’: Profiting off of a Child’s Innocence. Underneath the title is the author, (Y/N), (L/N).

“Yea, just a few minutes ago.”

“So. You knew not to write that. But why did you go ahead and do it anyway?” Suniya tries very hard not to grind her teeth, but you can clearly hear it.

You take a seat on the couch right across from your laptop. You set your phone down, putting it on speaker as you scroll through the multitudes of angry comments. There are some that catch your eye, such as ‘How could you write garbage about my daughter’s favorite movie?’, ‘You didn’t even watch the movie so your opinion is fucking pointless without proper research’, and another one being, ‘Go die in a shithole, you fucking mood-killer’.

You’ve always heard about internet figures getting a lot of online flak these days, but your article exploded out of nowhere that you haven’t gotten the time to process the negative comments. Even your email is spammed with anonymous accounts calling you degrading terms.

But another reason why it doesn’t impact you as much as it should is because it was somewhat expected. Winter Bear is a beloved, rated-PG movie that people of all ages should enjoy, but your article made it very apparent that you detest it.

“Yea, I knew not to write it, but what’s the point of me making it my career as a writer when I can’t even share my own opinions?”

“You—” But before your agent can lash out any further, she catches herself. “You’re not a writer, you’re a journalist. Writers create from inspiration, journalists rephrase what they see. Are you seriously trying to give the publication a bad rep?”

“You’re not getting the point of the article. No one is. It’s a cash-grabbing movie using a dangerous folklore—”

“I get it, I get it. But where I’m coming from is that the publishing company has no time to be dealing with a bad image at this moment. They were just getting recognized, and you just had to blow it off like that.”

“That wasn’t my intention. Look, why are people even getting pissed off over one person’s opinion? They don’t have to read my shit if they don’t want to and go enjoy their half-assed children’s movie.”

It’s at this point where Suniya has completely given up on arguing with you. Both you and Suniya are stubborn to the core, and this is how you two clash often.

“It isn’t just about a bad public image for the company, but for you. You’ll have a hard time signing deals and publishing more articles.”

That comment was like a prick to your skin. There was something about that that ticked you off, more than what the internet is saying about you.

“What the hell is wrong with me sharing my thoughts? If these faceless assholes are allowed to leave comments on my article, then I can say and do whatever too!”

“(Y/N), calm down! Why are you getting upset?! Listen to me when I say this: I know where you’re coming from. I know that movie is a sensitive topic for you, but that still doesn’t mean that you should—”

“Don’t bring it up.”

The line goes silent for a while before she returns. “Alright, fine. On the bright side, this seems like a short-term consequence, so the most we can do is wait for this to die down. I gotta go, I’ll call you later.”

She hangs up, and you get the urge to throw your phone across the room. However, you don’t have the kind of money to break your phone and get a new one, so instead, you throw it against the couch pillow. It’s irritating when nobody understands you. If the general public weren’t sheeples, then it would be easier for you to explain your side. Not even Suniya truly knows where you’re coming from.

You go back to your laptop, your article receiving new comments by the second. You want to respond to them and tell them to go to hell. There are more controversial topics out there in the world, so why go to your article and attack you? You’ve already caused enough trouble for your agent, so it’s better to leave it alone.

You lay down on your couch when a sudden chill runs up your spine. You check the temperature on your phone, and it’s been getting colder lately with winter getting closer.  What sort of first-world struggles are those angry commentators going through to give them the right to downgrade you?

Regret begins to play with your head, suggesting that you should call Suniya back and apologize to her for exploding. You turn on your phone, seeing four contacts on your phone: your parents, Suniya, and your publication site’s office number. You press on Suniya’s number, letting the line ring before directing to voicemail.

With a sigh of disappointment, you get off of the couch with that feeling of regret going to eat you up for the rest of the day. You try to forget about it, pushing your mind to think about something else than to focus heavily on it. You repeat to yourself over and over that you need to eat breakfast.

You look through the fridge that’s filled with only microwavable food, some vegetables, soda, and that one vegan mandarin chicken pack that you promised to eat when you were still dieting. On the bottom shelf is leftover pizza from last night. You close the fridge then rummage through the white-painted cabinets. You hand maneuvers around the canned corn and beans, packaged dry pad-thai noodles, and shoving the Maruchan cup noodles away. You grab the rainbow, fruit-flavored cereal box, opening the top to check if there’s still some. You pop one into your mouth to check if it’s still in edible condition. Although a bit stale, you can eat it.

You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted to eat leftover dinner or cereal for breakfast, so you ended up picking both. Rushing back to the fridge, you take out a slice of cold pizza and the half-gallon of milk, putting the pizza on a plate and into the microwave. It’s not the healthiest meal, but you’re not in the mood to be thinking about your weight.

As it warms up, you grab the remote from the living room, turning on the TV. You skip through channels with the press of a button until you get to a decent enough channel that’s playing a rerun of a sitcom show. It’s about a group of poor college graduates struggling to live in New York.

Your attention is taken away by your microwave beeping when it’s done reheating your pizza. You poke the pizza to make sure that the cheese has melted, then you take a bite of it. It doesn’t taste as fresh as when you first got it, but it still tastes savory.

“This...is...awesome!” A child’s voice shouts from the TV.

Dramatic drums and high-pitched violins play after the show goes on a commercial break. You turn around to see a trailer of a kids’ movie.

“Who...are you?” the child continues.

Each scene of the trailers lasts for a few seconds to keep the viewers’ short attention span engaged. On the screen is a young child who seems to be around eight or nine years old in a snowy forest. The child is on its knees, face-to-face with a shadowy monster before displaying itself as a fun, lovable grizzly bear licking the child’s face.

“I have to return home. Can you help me?”

“Come with us...on an epic journey,” A narrator voices over. “Filled with fun...”

The child and bear jump over rocks as they laugh.

“Adventure…”

The pair find an entirely undiscovered part of the forest, though it’s just a more expanded version of the same setting that it takes place in, just brighter lighting and more sunlight.

“And friendship.”

The next scene is when the child and the bear are cuddling together late at night to keep each other warm from the freezing temperature.

“Bears are supposed to be sleeping during winter, but you’re not,” the child ponders. “But...I’m glad that you’re awake. I don’t feel so lonely anymore.”

“Critics say ‘it’s tender’...‘entertaining’...‘everything my child has always wanted in a movie’.” The narrator continues as five yellow stars would be slapped onto a frame of an overview of the forest. “Winter Bear. Coming soon on December 20th.”

The next thing you know, you throw the pizza at the screen out of impulsive anger. The tomato sauce splatters all over the carpet, TV, and some on the coffee table. It instantly slips off the TV, landing and staining the carpet more. It felt good at that moment to lash out on the movie trailer, but not anymore after seeing the mess that you created. But once rational thinking sets in, you’re frustrated with yourself for what you’ve done. You hurriedly look for wipes then run to the TV to clean it.

As you wipe with tenacity, some uninvited memories seep in. You go back to when you were a child, holding the hand of a child whose face you can’t see, or at least, don’t want to see. The environment that surrounds you is a white forest, silence freezing every noise possible, just you and the person standing side-by-side.

You rest your forehead on the sauce-stained TV, sighing heavily as you try to forget what happened long ago. You turn to the fallen pizza, glaring at it with disdain as the red, bloody sauce soaks into what was once a white carpet that blended into the blue morning.

“He doesn’t help kids...he steals them.”

———

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), you really need to start eating healthier food. Look at your stomach, I’m beginning to see a muffin top.” Suniya jokes as she playfully hits your stomach with a pepperoni sausage.

Suniya is walking ahead of you as you push the shopping cart. She decided to tag along with you to go grocery shopping, implying that this get-together is to make up for the argument that unfolded days prior to this.

“I would eat better if the healthier options were cheaper and tasted better.”

“Hey, there are healthy foods that are cheap too, you know. You just choose not to eat it. Plus, you’re not a kid anymore. Suck it up and eat gross shit for the sake of being in shape,” This is ironic coming from Suniya, since she isn’t in the best shape either. “Maybe you should get a gym membership and start working out. Who knows, maybe you’ll start attracting people.”

“Mm-hmm,” You faintly listen to her as you’re trying to decide on which graham cracker brand you want to buy. “Oh yea, which pizza brand do you think has the least amount of tomato sauce?”

Suniya sulks, a little annoyed that you aren’t listening to her, but this is typical for you to be like that with her. “I dunno. Figure it out yourself. Why?”

“Eh,” you shrug your shoulders. “The sauce is the messiest part of the pizza. Do you think I should start eating hot pockets?”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t fucking know. Pick both if it makes it easier.”

“No, but pizza is messy. I wanna know if hot pockets are not as messy with the sauce.”

“Why does it matter? Just use a napkin or don’t eat like a toddler!”

“...I’ll go with hot pockets.”

You push the cart ahead of Suniya as she stares at you with a look of disbelief. No matter how long you two have known each other, she will never understand how your brain is wired. She shakes her head, shrugging it off as one of your unusual habits again.

“By the way, your mother called me. She said you weren’t picking up the phone and she wanted to know if you’re doing alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“...Why don’t you just call her back and tell her that?”

“I have you to pass on my message.”

“You know…” her tone deepens. “Your mom wants to talk to you directly. She wants to know how you’re doing in your voice.”

“What difference will it make? She’ll just pretend that she’s worried about me but all she’s gonna do is yell at how I can’t take care of myself and I need a new job.”

She sighs. “But she’s still your mom. You can’t forget that she raised you.”

“I’ll call her later. I have some more articles to write and I don’t need the distraction.”

But she knew that you meant never, you just wanted to end the conversation. She looks through the aisles, clearly frustrated with your lack of keeping a conversation going.

“You know, you shouldn’t worry about work so much.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s all you ever think about. Don’t you have anything else that you’re passionate about? Like, I dunno, making friends, going out, finding a boyfriend?”

“Not really. I haven’t put much thought into any of those. They’re a waste of time and money.”

“(Y/N),” she puts her hand to her hips. “Your isolation is only going to drive you even more insane. You won’t have anyone to rely on, and you’re just going to be miserable.”

A vein protrudes from your forehead, but your expression remains stagnant. “But I have you, don’t I?”

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t just rely on me. I have a family to take care of. And you should also.”

Even though you behave as if you’re ignoring her, her words bleed into your brain. You know too well that you’re getting closer to the age of settling into a life of family-hood, but it isn’t Suniya who decides what you have to do with your life. Still, what she says makes your chest ache, the desire to deny her claims of your spiral to insanity, all the while being completely aware of her concerns.

Suniya’s phone rings, so she takes it out from her purse to see an unknown number on her screen. She accepts the call, putting it to her ear.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice can be heard from the other line. Other than a ‘hi’, you can’t make what she’s saying, and Suniya’s lack of expression doesn’t help either.

“Uhm...yes. She is with me.”

An eyebrow raises, your curiosity peaking. You stare at her, squinting your eyes. She does look at you, but she doesn’t say anything to fill in the blanks.

“Sure.”

She hands the phone to you. You’re confused, looking at the phone and wondering what to do with it. She nudges it to you, so you take it.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this (Y/N)?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Hi, my name is Kim, and I’m calling because I read your article the other day.”

Assuming that this is an angry reader, you’re about to hang up the phone when Suniya raises her hands up, signaling for you not to. You silently sigh, putting the phone back to your ear.

“You did?”

“I did! And I absolutely loved it!”

“Oh, really?” But it takes a few seconds for you to let that sink in. “Wait, really??”

“Yes! I reread it hundreds of times, and everything you said accurately portrays exactly how I feel about the movie as well.”

You glance at Suniya, and she smiles, nodding to let you know that this isn’t a prank. You’re at a loss of words that there’s someone who genuinely enjoyed your article. No one’s ever reached out to give you compliments, so you don’t know what to say.

“Uhm, thank you.”

“It’s no big deal. I saw the feedback you received, and it seems like not a lot of people liked it. You see, I’m a mythologist. I study extensively on the Winter Bear folklore. Based on the information on your publication’s website, it doesn’t seem like you know anything about it, but you nailed every detail of the myth precisely.”

“...Yea.”

“What I wanted to talk about is that I would like you to help me with my research on the Winter Bear.”

You crease your eyebrows. “...Excuse me?”

“You see, even though I study myth, I have a strong feeling that this isn’t some mere local folklore. You seem to know a lot about it, and I would like to get to know you more. Perhaps even go to the town to investigate more about it.”

“No.” You’re about to hang up again.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

You give her a third chance, putting the phone back to your ear.

“I can compensate for your help in return! We can help each other. I’m trying to write a book and get it published before the Winter Bear movie comes out. I want to expose the real story behind, not the watered-down, kiddy version of it.”

She piques your interest. “Go on.”

“In return, I’ll help back up your article, I’ll even reference and credit you for aiding me in the research. As long as we’re able to complete the book before the release of the movie, then it’s going to be a hit. Imagine all the clicks you’re going to get in your article after my book is published. You’ll definitely make more than you can ever imagine with any ordinary article.”

“I’ve already received enough criticism as it is with just the trailer. How is a full-length movie and your book going to benefit me?”

“It’s going to be a bit...greedy of me to say, but you aren’t paid by the number of nice comments you get. You get it by how many people click on your online articles. If you ignore the negative comments, didn’t you notice that your pay got relatively higher than normal?”

As much as you don’t want to admit it, it’s true. “Yes.”

“That’s what I’m saying! That’s why we gotta get this finished before the movie. What do you say?”

You fall silent, and it makes Kim think that you actually hung up this time. Talking about the town where the tale of the Winter Bear brings up the memories again. You remember looking down at your small hands, pressing it on the snow as you knelt down. The stiffness in your hands from the cold perfectly describes how you’re feeling right now. It’s strange, when you look back to the time when you were there during winter, it was dead silent.

Your numb hands, stuck in the unforgiving snow, not a sound to comfort you in this recycling memory. It’s strange, it’s only your hands that are cold, not your knees, not your face, nothing. Are you ready to go to that place that you tried so hard to forget? Can you unveil those childhood memories?

You recall that toddler. It was only a split second, but every detail of her is vivid. That baby blue-striped dress, wearing a pink parka over it. Her tiny brown boots treading through the snow, being matted by the pure white. She turns around, and she resembles you a lot.. Her nose red and runny, yet the brimming smile on her face is the only sunlight of that gray memory. The silence is filled with her childish laughter that’s devoid of flaws, as she had yet to be tainted by the world.

“Annie.” Your past-self calls her.

“I’ll do it.”

“That’s great! Then I’ll send you an email and we can set up a day to go to the town. I look forward to working with you in the near future.”

“Yea.”

She hangs up.

“So, what did she say?”

“She wants to work with me.”

“Really?? That’s great! So, how is it going to work out?”

You aren’t entirely sure. You agreed to it on a whim without putting much thought on the consequences. Now you’re a little regretful for saying yes, especially since you don’t want anything to do with it, but since you dedicated an entire article on it, it must mean that a part of you wants to return. You don’t know how your brain works sometimes, like you go into autopilot and another force makes the decisions for you.

“We’re going to the town where that movie took inspiration from, Little Bare.”

———

At the bustling train station, Suniya helps push you through the tight crowd. You keep looking down at your phone, squinting at a picture that Kim took of herself. You’ve never met her in person and most of your conversations with her took place through phone calls and text messages. This will be the first time you’ll see her in person.

“Why the hell is the station so busy on a Tuesday?!” Suniya whines.

Standing right under the ‘Station E’ sign is Kim. She’s a lot shorter than you thought, standing at approximately 4’10”. Her black-framed glasses and messy bun along with her back slouching really gives the impression that she spends a lot of time sitting down, probably reading or researching, and you’re not far from your assumption. She’s focused on writing in her notebook, not paying attention to her surroundings whatsoever, not even caring when a salaryman bumped into her.

“Excuse me, are you Kim?”

She looks up and immediately closes her book. “Hello! You’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod.

She extends her hand out for a handshake, and you take it, taking notice of how sweaty they are. “It’s nice to finally meet you! Is that your agent?”

“Hello, I’m Suniya. We spoke on the phone before.”

“Right, I remember. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Suniya nods. “Yes. The train should be arriving soon, so do you mind if I talk to you for a bit, Miss Kim?”

“Sure.”

She pulls Kim aside, far enough from you. You know that she’s going to be talking about you, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

“What is it that you need to talk to me about privately?”

“It’s about (Y/N).”

“Hm? What about her?”

Suniya looks at you, seeing as you’re looking down at your phone. “You see…since I’m not coming on this trip with you guys, can I request you to take care of her?”

Kim is a little taken aback, as you seemed like a fully grown adult who is capable of taking care of yourself. “Sure…”

“You see...she’s a bit...disconnected.”

She wrinkles her eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I think she has selective memory loss. She experienced some trauma that still affects her today—so much that she tends to block anything that stresses her out too much because that’s how she’s always dealt with her problems. So if she’s spacing out, then that’s why.”

From the distance, you blend well with the crowd, no different than a modern citizen focused on her phone. You don’t look lost—you look so sure of yourself like nothing disturbs you. Your outward appearance doesn’t make you sound like the description that Suniya gave.

“Selective as in, she can willingly forget things?”

She nods. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever she went through as a child, it must’ve been that bad that she doesn’t have any recollection of it. I don’t mean to scare you, but if she behaves abnormally, don’t be afraid to call me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take good care of her. If I feel comfortable working with her, then I would’ve long since canceled our plans.” She smiles.

Still, Suniya is unsure. It feels wrong, talking about you in this way.

———

On the train, you and Kim are sitting across from each other. The slight bumps create a rhythmic sound as the train speeds to your destination, and there is a lack of conversation from other passengers with the only voice being the overhead of an automated woman alerting the passengers of their next stops. You sit by the window, watching the bushes pass by faster than the mountains from a distance. Kim is on her laptop, typing at the speed of light.

“I might be prying a bit too much, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask.”

“Hm?”

“Have you been to Little Bare before?”

You don’t respond—you don’t even look at her.

“Sorry, I stepped over the line. I was just curious because you seem to have more information than your typical person—”

“Yea, I went there once.”

She wasn’t expecting you to answer, so she stutters with her next line of words.

“My family and I went on a road trip during winter break. We got stuck in a blizzard and stayed at the inn there until it died down.”

“Oh, that’s very interesting!” She puts it down in her notebook. “Do you remember what you did there?”

“...Not really.” You lie.

“Oh…” She clears her throat to get rid of the uncomfortable atmosphere she created. “Well...it’s a good thing we’re going back. It’ll help you regain those memories again.”

“How did you know that I went there before?”

“I just assumed because you seem to know a little more about that folklore, not the watered-down version of it.”

“Yea.”

After that, neither of you say anything. This must be what Suniya was saying when she said that you don’t look like you’re paying attention, or you’re distracted by something else. She keeps herself busy by going back to her notebook.

———

At Little Bare, you and Kim exit the train. The wind blows against your hair, giving you the chills. You put your hands in your pocket while you stare at the town that haunts you. Every building is made out of wood, and the newer ones are built from bricks. The town is so small that you can see where it ends from the other side.

“It’s so cold! It’s supposed to have its first snow tonight, so it makes sense. But holy crap...I already can’t stand it.”

The train leaves, leaving you and Kim in a town nearly desolated. It lacks human contact, not a single person in sight. And there it is again—the dead silence. It was there before, and it hasn’t left. You wouldn’t describe it as nostalgia, but a boogeyman welcoming you back to your nightmare.

“Where do we even go?”

“I think down here.”

You walk down the staircase, hearing dead leaves being crushed beneath your feet. You enter through the main entrance of the town with a tall sign towering over you and Kim that reads: ‘Welcome to Little Bare’. You inspect the town, and the buildings made out of wood have turned dark brown after soaking in morning fog and rain. Resting your hand on the walls seems like it’s enough to give you splinters. It isn’t only the buildings that show after-signs of rain, but the streets as well. There are wet patches in the street, giving off the strong scent of wet black tar.

“Is...this the right place? It looks like a ghost town.”

You shake your head. “It’s exactly the same as I remembered.”

The general store is still there the last time you were here, one of the first buildings you’ll see when you enter this place. Directly across the street is the bar, just as empty as it was in the past during the day. The only difference is that everything has aged dramatically, those twenty years taking a  toll on the town.

“Where is everybody?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no reception here because of the high elevation, so I can’t pull up a map. There’s no physical map of this place either.”

You and Kim creep into the town more, with her peeking through the large glass windows of the general store. Her eyes light up when she sees someone standing by the front cash register. An elderly man, sitting on a chair with his back slouched, reading a newspaper.

“Oh, there’s somebody there,” you point at the man. “Let’s ask them for directions.”

You both move closer to the store, and once you’re close enough, the old man notices you two. When making eye contact with you two, Kim waves her hand as a means of greeting him. Rather than returning the greeting, the elderly man grabs a broomstick and walks out of the store, raising the broom over his head and jogging right toward you two.

“Get the hell outta here before I beat your asses myself!”

You and Kim step back, raising your hands to defend yourselves. She grabs onto your arm, and you cling onto her sleeve.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She shouts. “We’re just tourists!”

“I said get outta here! We don’t need no city people here to take what’s ours!”

“We’re not here to take anything!!”

“I said get out!!”

“What’s going on?!” An overweight woman runs out of the room. “Honey! What the fucking shit are you doing?!”

The man stops and turns around, seeing his wife marching after him. She slaps him on the back multiple times, so much that he drops the broom and waves his hands as a means of protection. After hitting him until he’s tame, the woman turns to you and Kim.

“I’m so sorry for my husband. We just had some unwanted guests come by a few days ago givin’ us some papers to sign thinkin’ we can’t read shit, so we’re all on guard,” she puts her hands to her hips. “The name’s Margaret, and this brainless man is Gerald. So, what brings two beautiful, young women here?”

You two look at each other, then back at the woman.

“Uhm..My name’s Kim. We’re here to research the myth of the Winter Bear.”

Upon bringing up the name, Margaret’s smile disappears. “Oh god...you really are just like them. So then, you girls better give me one good reason to welcome you guys in. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to kick your asses outta here.”

And just like that, someone who you two thought was civilized quickly turns sour. Knowing the amount of pain that she can enforce, you and Kim are faced with a ticking time bomb. Kim desperately flips through her notebooks, seeing if she can show any of her records to impress her.

“Uhm...wait, please, Mrs. Margaret! We don’t know who you’re talking about, but w-we have no intention of hurting anyone. I-if you look at my notes, you can tell that I’m genuinely interested in writing about this myth! Y-you see, I’m an author, and Miss (Y/N) is a journalist. We’re working together!”

But this doesn’t convince Margaret at all. She glares at you two, picking up the broom Gerald dropped. Kim freaks out more, seeing if she can find anything to offer.

“We have money! We can pay for anything!!”

That doesn’t work either. For a writer, she does a poor job of persuading. You try to think of anything to support Kim. You look around, biting your nail as sweat begins to form. You hate this—being put on the spot to problem-solve. It makes you dizzy, making you want to escape as soon as possible.

You squeeze your eyes shut, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind. “I’ve been here before!”

Margaret stares at you, raising an eyebrow. You got her attention, so you take this chance to breathe.

“I came here during winter...when I was a child.”

The fury burning underneath Margaret’s eyes turns into sympathy. She lowers the broomstick, tears forming in her eyes as if she reunited with a long lost relative. To your surprise, she wraps her arms around you, catching both you and Kim off guard.

“You poor girl.”

Kim is absolutely confused. She looks at you in hopes of getting an explanation, but your expression is blank. You’re overwhelmed with multiple emotions, coming all together at once unsure of how to express them at once. It’s like when all colors come together to make white. The only thing you can do is hug her back.

———

On the second floor of the general store, you and Kim are sitting in their almost run-down kitchen. The flowery wallpapers are peeling, brown and yellow stains running down until it hits the dusty floorboards, and age-old grease stains and black food chunks occupying the stove. There’s also a gigantic hole in the ceiling.

Margaret sets down a tray of hot chamomile tea on the table. “Sorry for our shitty first impression. Things have just been so heated lately that we’re stressed out of our minds.”

You and Kim take a cup, blowing it before drinking, but Kim drinks it without issue. You want to rest your arms on the table, but it’s so sticky that it makes you quiver just thinking about the last time it was ever cleaned.

“It’s okay! From the looks of it, you guys went through a lot,” Kim replies in an optimistic tone. “What happened?”

Margaret grabs a nearby chair and sits down, placing her elbow on the table without hesitation and running her hand through her gray, curly hair. “We got these big companies, Dismaland or whatever the fuck their name is, demanding that we turn our town into a tourist attraction for a  movie they’re making. You know, those family-friendly kinds. I dunno much ‘bout it since the mayor is the one who spoke to them, but we turned it down. Since then, they’ve been harassing us to sign their papers, so every young-lookin’ person dressed almost like you guys, we try kicking them out.”

You never realized how bad it’s gotten here. It was just as hostile as you remember in your memories, but a little worse since your parents were there to defend you.

“I swear to God, we’re nice people, but we gotta put up our guard if those bastards keep on coming back,” she sighs heavily. “But to be brutally honest, I really do think we need the money. As you can tell, our place is a shithole, and those big guys are willing to give us a small portion of the money.”

“But it isn’t really about the money, is it?” You ask.

She doesn’t respond immediately. Rather, she nods.

“You’re damn right. Those corporations don’t realize that they’re creating the biggest graveyard in history.”

Kim’s eyes widen, covering her mouth as she stares at you and Margaret. “No way...you mean to tell me…”

Margaret nods again. “This ‘Winter Bear’ ain’t no fable. It’s real.”

Kim places her hands flat on the tables. “Kids actually go missing?! I knew it! Everything was just too suspicious to be simply a story.”

“Yea, so even if we need the money to keep the town going, we ain’t gonna risk some kids’ lives for it.”

“Wait,” Kim pauses. “So then...if the disappearances of children are real, then what’s the actual cause of it? Don’t tell me it’s actually a bear.”

She shakes her head. “We don’t know either. All we know is that once the kids go into the forest, they don’t come back.”

Margaret glances at you, but you avoid her gaze. You act as if you have nothing to do with the conversation, sipping the tea.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Bears hibernate during winter and these disappearances happen around this time. Wouldn’t it make more sense that it’s some other animal or a person? Not a bear. And only winter?” Kim scratches her head.

“Not to sound like a smartass, but bears actually don’t hibernate.”

“What?? Really?”

“They sleep longer during the winter to save energy, but they wake up in case of danger or hunger. It is possible that you can still encounter a bear.”

“So then...do you think it’s possible that bears eat the children due to the lack of food?”

Margaret shrugs her shoulders. “That could be it, but let me ask you this: wouldn’t you think a bear would leave traces of the child? Clothes? Blood? Something? They disappear into thin air, almost like they never existed.”

This sends chills down Kim’s spine. She’s heard of this many times, but hearing it from an actual resident who has lived through children going missing is terrifying...but also intriguing.

“That means that we have to check the forest! Wait, Miss (Y/N), you said that you came here before. If kids go missing, then how did you survive?”

You stare at the wall, noticing how particularly yellow it is. Judging by how dirty the place is, it makes you wonder if the wallpaper was white but got stale as time went by. You’ve been very quiet, not bothering to put your input, and this concerns Margaret. She knew that Kim was stepping over her boundaries.

“...(Y/N)?” Kim asks. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yea, I’m fine.”

“After your tea, I can show you young ladies where to go for the inn.”

Kim doesn’t read the atmosphere, not seeing how uncomfortable you’ve become. You clench onto the teacup, pinching the handle with all your might. You were confident when the thought of coming here sprung up, but being physically here is more demanding than you could’ve ever imagined.

———

Some time has gone by since the visit to Margaret’s place. She showed you two around the place, introducing you to some of the residents. Some of them you remember, but others you don’t. They don’t recognize you either, and Margaret is kind enough not to share your name with them. Once she’s finished showing you two around town, she eventually leads you two to the inn.

In the room, Kim is taking a shower while you sit by the edge of your bed. Despite struggling to find reception, the inn miraculously has some, although a bit slow. You have over fifty text messages from only two people—Suniya and your mother. Both of their messages are asking how you and Kim are doing. However, you turn off your phone, sighing as you toss it aside. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling fan blanketed with dust. The fan itself looks like it’ll fall any second, seeing as it shakes even from the lightest movement.

You were naive to think that your problems will be solved if you stepped into Little Bare again. It’s more complicated than you expected, and now you want out. However, you’ve already promised to work with Kim; you can’t break the deal. You wish Suniya was here to yell at you, to tell you that you’ve made a dumb decision. That way, it would at least sound like she cares. Even though you’ve gotten to know Kim a little more, it still feels like you’ve stranded yourself on a foreign land.

And that image of the little girl, Annie, continuously appearing every time you close your eyes. Every corner of this town reminds you of her, like a ghost haunting you. You can sense her presence in the corner of the room, purposely watching you with hollow, blackened holes for eyes. She’s standing there in her pink parka and blue-striped dress, waiting for you to make your next move.

You groan, rubbing your eyes. You apply enough pressure that your eyes are being pushed back, rubbing so fast that your skin turns red. No matter how much you try to push the thoughts away, she just keeps coming back. Just as Kim exited the room, you get off the bed, taking your jacket and heading straight to the door.

“Where are you going? You look like you’re in a rush to start a mission.”

“It’s too small in here. I need some fresh air.”

“O-oh, okay...but please stay safe! Who knows what kinds of creeps are out there.”

“I will. Thanks.” You open the door and close it behind you.

———

You walk around, hands in the pockets of your jacket. There is no wind, but the drop in temperature stiffens your muscles. Just like in the morning, no one is occupying the streets. It’s just you, alone, with your bothersome thoughts. It manifests into a black aura, clinging onto the back of your head.

You thought about heading to Margaret’s place just to get things off of your chest, but you change your mind. She never directly stated it, but she knew who you were and what you went through. It was an odd moment that she sympathized with you without knowing exactly what had happened.

A flashy neon sign catches your attention. It’s in the shape of a brown beer bottle, pouring bubbles into a glass wine. It’s the bar that’s across the street of the general store called Bar & Grill. You’re not a drinker, but when your stress gets overwhelming, you tend to be persuaded by the lust of alcohol. Wanting to get rid of this black aura looming, you make the decision to enter the bar.

———

Your head is on the counter table, your arms around it to hide your red face. The inside of the place has very few people, only a few men who just came back from work, but even these men are barely whispering a word. The bartender stands on the other side of the counter, cleaning the glass cups with a white cloth.

“Hey, Miss. Do you have someone to take you home?”

You groan.

The bartender sighs. “You’re a young woman. Do you know how easy it is to be preyed on?”

“I can...handle myself,” you raise your head up, one eye open. “I practically raised myself! What makes you think I’m irresponsi...ble? You dunno me.” You slur your words.

The bartender sets the cup down, putting her hand on her hip and leaning on the counter. She isn’t sure if your red, watery eyes are because you drank so much or if you’re becoming emotional.

“You’re one of those researchers that came here earlier today, huh? Marge told me,” she shakes her head. “Jesus Christ, you city people really don’t know the limits to drinking.”

Next to you are five empty beer cups with the foam sliding down on the sides. You snicker at how much you drank, followed by a hiccup. “Wow, you’re right. I’m usually good at self-control. I know how to control my problems, but tonight is not one of those times.”

“It’s not that you’re good at controlling your problems. You’re just good at avoiding them. Marge told me about you, and no offense, but she thinks it’s fucking strange that you don’t look like you’re bothered that your sister was taken away by that monster. But I disagree. You’re pretending like it ever happened.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to assume how I feel??”

“Our place is practically off-coordinates with maps, but we still have those runaways who come to the bar every so often. You’re no different from them. So…”

“What?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She crosses her arms. “I won’t tell anybody. We pretend that tonight never existed.”

You rummage your hand through your messy hair, calming down. It might be the toxication persuading you, but you’re not comfortable telling her.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh really?”

“I don’t want to, and it’s because I don’t know how to talk about it. If I can’t even talk to my mom about it, then why the hell do you think I can tell you? When I did want to bring Annie’s disappearance up, my mom would change the subject. It’s not only that, but it was like...she wanted to make me disappear too. And I know it’s because she fucking blames me for losing her, and seeing my face reminds her that she lost her baby. She always favored Annie anyway, so it wasn’t surprising that when she went missing, she...she said…”

You have a flashback of when you were a child during the aftermath. You and your parents returned safely home but without Annie. Your six-year-old mind thought that if you stared at Annie’s cradle in your parents’ bedroom every so often, she would magically return. But to your dismay, your efforts were in vain, and she never appeared.

One night, you woke up from a repeating nightmare of the day you lost her, so to soothe your racing heart, you jumped out of your bed and ran to their bedroom to look at her cradle, praying that she’s there. But rather than seeing your parents asleep, they’re sitting by the edge of the bed. Your mother is curled into a ball, sobbing profusely while your father makes attempts to comfort her with shallow pats on the back. In between her cries, you heard:

“Why couldn’t it have been (Y/N)?”

Returning from a trip to the past, taking your wallet out and paying with cash. You put on your coat and head straight to the exit.

“Where are you going?” The bartender asks.

“To sleep.”

You march right out the bar, massaging your head. After opening the doors, you step out and nearly tripped. For a second, your foggy mind thought you stepped through a hole, but it turns out to be snow. Some time has gone since you’ve been holed up in the bar that it already began snowing and it’s piled up.

You wobble to the empty forest, leaving a trace of your footprints. You despise being anywhere near the empty forest that surrounds Little Bare, but with alcohol, you think you’re invincible. You stand in front of the forest, being unable to see into the distance with the fog blocking your view. But amongst the fog, there is an apparition.

You squint your eyes, but they fail to make sense of what stands far away. But what you can make of the figure is that it’s small and crouched over. It’s alive, moving around but at the same time, staying in the same spot. It isn’t far, but it isn’t that close either.

Your mind immediately draws to that apparition being a bear. That bear that took everything away from you--your little sister, your chance at a childhood, a shot at a proper adult life, everything. Anger spurs within you, no longer having that rationality in your fragile mind. Within a spur of impulse, you pick up a rock the size of your hand, pulling it back and throwing directly toward the bear.

“FUCK YOU!” You shout from the top of your lungs.

Despite the influence of alcohol, you nailed the apparition right at its head. It falls to the ground, the sound of a ‘plop’ echoing. In that brief act of revenge, victory overcame you. You nearly raise your hands up in celebration, thinking that you defeated your arch-nemesis. But you manage to return to your senses, realizing that the apparition isn’t a figment of your imagination...but an actual person. Then your adrenaline fades away.

You trek through the thick snow, hopping through it until you enter the forest, whilst tripping and stumbling. You lean over the black figure, rubbing your eyes to make sure that what you’re seeing is real. Unable to stand straight, you fall backward and land on your bottom. After blinking, dread sets in when you realize that it’s a child.

“Oh my god...oh no...help...”

You try to stand up to look for help, but once you do, your vision turns black and you become light-headed. Nausea hits you, wrapping your hand around your stomach to control your gag reflexes. The alcohol, lack of food and water, combined with the high elevation comes altogether, making you fall down again.

As your eyelashes flutter, there’s a flashlight illuminating from the direction where you came from. Just when you’re about to close your eyes, the young boy’s body grows exponentially, growing to an exact size of a fully-grown adult right before you.

———

“Mom! Dad! I made a best friend!! He lives in a cave in the forest with the black trees...No! I’m not lying. He really does live there! He’s six years old like me...What? He’s real!! He doesn’t live with a mom and dad, but he said that he lives with kids like me and him too…

“And I told him that I would show him Annie, too...”

“Don’t…!” You sit up in an unfamiliar room in a cold sweat and heavy breathing.

You’re on a clean bed, made of pure white. On the walls, there are drawings of the human anatomy, motivational quotes plastered on a piece of paper with words such as ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’ and ‘be calm and exercise’.

Next the bed is Kim, startled by you suddenly waking up. “(Y/N)?! Are you okay??”

You look at your hand that’s trembling violently, but now that you’re conscious, the hangover hits you hard like a bullet. That massive headache and your stomach twisted in a knot. There’s a lump in your throat with the urge to throw up, but there’s nothing that’s coming out.

“Where...is this place?”

“It’s the clinic. The bartender found you unconscious with a man in the woods and thought that he was trying to take advantage of you.”

“A man…?”

You search through with what very little that you remember last night. You went to the bar to waste away, then you walked out. There was someone in the forest—a young boy. It was too dark to make sense of the boy’s details, but you just knew based on his shape that it was definitely a male.

“No...no…” You squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the pestering headache as you shake your head. “It...it was a boy. A kid.”

“What?” She raises an eyebrow. “There were no kids around, just the man. They’re interrogating him right now.”

You don’t recall a man being there. You must’ve been that fucked up to mistaken a man for a child. Even though it shouldn’t be an issue, it’s bothering you a lot. You remove the blanket, attempting to get out of bed before Kim stops you.

“What are you doing??”

“I have to see the man.”

“No! The doctor advised that you sit. You haven’t been eating, so you’re light-headed.”

“Let me see him. I need to.”

“Stop being crazy and just rest! They made food for you, so just eat and sleep.”

She puts her arms on you, but you gently push her hands away. “I will after I see him.”

You get out of bed, trying to stand but the light-headedness sets in. Your vision turns black briefly, causing you to stumble over your feet. Kim comes to the aid, helping you balance.

“See? I told you. Just rest.”

“No...I’m good. Do you know where this guy’s room is?”

Seeing how adamant you are about it, she decides to give in. “He’s in the room next to you.”

You head out of the room, walking slowly so that you don’t fall, then exiting the room. In the halls, there’s nobody, making it easier for you to head into the other room without any interruptions. You twist the doorknob, swinging it open to find the doctor and policeman, assuming by the uniforms that they’re wearing for their designated jobs. They turn to you, caught off-guard by your entrance.

The man that you’re looking for is on the bed, tilting his head when you two make eye contact. He has a long face, void of a smile. His black hair is frizzy and curly, strands of it flying all directions as if he just woke up. There are bandages wrapped around his head. After that short contact, he looks away, grabbing the doctor’s sleeve and using it to hide his face.

“Miss (Y/N)? What are you doing up?” The doctor asks.

Kim follows from behind.

“Miss Kim, I told you to watch over her.”

“I’m sorry...but she was persistent in seeing him.”

“Him…?”

Now that you have gotten your opportunity to meet with the man, you don’t know what to do. You stand still, at a loss of words when you meet the man that you ran into the forest. Perhaps you really did run into a man, not a child. You were under the influence, after all.

“Miss (Y/N),” the policeman starts. “Since you seem well enough to be standing, can I have a word with you?”

“Sure…”

———

“Amnesia?”

Returning back to your room, the policeman explains what they were discussing earlier. Kim had returned to the hotel room to give you and the police some privacy, and the doctor is staying with the man.

He sits with his hands folded on his lap, giving you a serious expression. “Yes. It’s a minor blunt-force trauma to the head, like something no bigger than a rock.”

“Oh my god…I was the one who hit him.”

“Did he try to assault you?”

You shake your head. “I did out of anger, but not at him. I was drunk and wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You fear that you’ll get in trouble, but you’re more fearful of the condition that you left the young man in. You weren’t expecting your throw to be that strong. The policeman scratches his beard, figuring out what to do in this situation.

“For all I know, you could be lying.”

You gulp.

“But hey, you could also be telling the truth. We don’t know until we check out the scene and hear his side. He doesn’t remember crap—not even his own name. For now, we’ll continue the investigation.”

You sigh in relief, but that still doesn’t deter the guilt from you. The man is a victim of your outlash, and it’s natural for you to want to make up for what you’ve done, even if it’s minor.

“Uhm...how is he…? The guy, I mean.”

“Other than the total amnesia, he’s in a healthy state. It’s strange, though. Other than a large coat, he was wearing a thin layer of clothes, but his body temperature wasn’t affected by the cold. We don’t have young people living here either, so it’s a mystery where he came from.”

He stands up from the chair, walking to the door.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you, Miss (Y/N). If you remember anything, then don’t be afraid to come to me. My name is Sheriff Tusk, and I’ll be in the police station often.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Sheriff Tusk walks out, leaving you alone. You fall back, resting your head on the pillow as you exhale. So much has happened in a short amount of time that it’s difficult to believe that all this actually happened. Even if you got away with being put to jail, you feel immensely guilty for hurting him.

———

The next day, you’ve been discharged from the hospital, suffering only from lack of nutrients and a hangover. Kim is in the room with you, helping you pack your things. Neither of you say much, focusing on putting your belongings away. You keep thinking about the man next-door, wondering how he’s doing. You keep stealing glances at Kim, wanting to ask her if you two can visit him but never gathering enough courage to actually ask her.

“Are you ready?” Kim asks as she puts the last folded shirt into your luggage.

“Hm? Oh, yea.”

You take the luggage from her and head to the door. Kim looks at her phone, once again, seeing that her phone has low reception. You pass by the man’s room, stopping in front of it and nearly causing Kim to bump into you.

“Whoa, what’s going on?”

Without a response, your eyes lay heavily on the door, struggling with the debate of whether or not you should enter.

“...(Y/N)...?”

Eventually, you make the final decision, approaching it and your hand grasping the doorknob. You pull the door open, making Kim confused, but not stopping you from continuing.

Inside the room, your peer at the bed, seeing the man sitting upward with a movable table that has a tray of food on top. He holds a cup of pudding in his hand, eating the chocolate-flavored dessert faster than the sound of light. He eats as though he hasn’t eaten in days, the pudding smearing on the corners of his lips.

It takes a moment for him to sense your presence, jolting and freezing when he sees you. You blink profusely, looking around the room nervously. You wanted to see him again, but you didn’t think about what, or if, you wanted to say something.

The man holds the end of his blanket and pulls it up.

You scratch the back of your neck, looking only at the corner of the room. “Hi, uh...I don’t think I’ve ever formally introduced myself. My name is (Y/N).”

You move closer and extend your hand out, but it makes the man flinch. Seeing that he doesn’t want to accept your hand, you pull it back.

“I don’t know if the doctor told you but...I’m the one who threw a rock at you, which is why you have that injury. I came in to say that I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t respond to you. Rather, he stares as if he’s fearful for his life, his pupils shaking from seeing you. You take one more step, wanting to get to know him, but it makes him flinch.

“I hope you—”

“S-stay away from me…” He whimpers.

His voice is deeper than any man’s voice, and yet his tone is like a scared child. Even the way he pronounced each syllable is with a lisp and not proper, as if he’s slurring. Despite his masculine outlook with his broad shoulders, tall height, and sharp eyes, underneath that shell, he’s fearful and small.

On the right side of you is the bathroom, the door open. You face the mirror, looking at your reflection. You see yourself as an ordinary person, but this man probably sees you as something, not someone, else in his reflection.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder, pulling you back gently. “Miss (Y/N), I think it’s better to leave him alone.”

You know it’s better to do that, but there’s an urge within you, pushing you to stay. There’s an internal battle between you and yourself, the desire to stay and talk to him but leaving him alone to rest. Ultimately, you choose Kim’s suggestion.

You take a few steps back, your courage slowly being broken down with each step. “S-sorry…”

Breaking from a blanked trance, you abruptly pace out of the room and to the lobby. Kim is left confused, her head turning back and forth between you and the man.

“Sorry about bursting into your room. I pray for a healthy recovery.” Kim runs off to find you.

———

You stand just outside the small and aging medical building, Kim eventually catching up to you.

“Hey! What was up with that?”

No response.

“Miss (Y/N)...? Hello?”

“I...I don’t know.”

You couldn’t quite understand it either, unsure of what it was that made it okay to visit him. Despite his amnesia, it seems like he’s aware that you’re the one who injured him. With your behavior worrying her, Kim puts her hands on your shoulders, shaking you slightly.

“Do you know that guy?”

“No...no, not really.”

This is the first time you’ve met him, but there’s something about that man that you can’t put your finger on it. Perhaps it’s the guilt talking to your rationale or the urge to talk to somebody who’s close to your age. You just can’t let go of this.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry about it. The sheriff let you off, so you don’t have to take care of him.”

What Kim says floats over your head. You’re not doing this to appear like a law-abiding citizen. There’s this unconscious instinct that’s pulling you to him. It sounds unrealistic and dramatic, but there’s no other way you can describe this feeling. You turn around, staring at the medical building.

———

“What do you mean I can’t visit?”

In the main lobby, the doctor is sitting behind his desk, reading the newspaper. He lowers his glasses to give you a hollow glare. It’s the next day, and you decided to visit the man a second time but your visitation has been turned down by the doctor.

“Visiting without the patient’s permission, especially consistently, is harassment. I’ve been notified of what happened yesterday, so to protect each patient’s safety, I advise that you leave him alone.”

“But I’m not doing anything bad. I just want to talk to him.”

“I know you don’t have malicious intentions, but he’s still recovering from the head injury. Plus, the police are investigating, so it’s better if you leave him alone to avoid trouble.”

“I know, but…” You trail off.

“And you should be resting as well. You’re slightly anemic and are lacking some sugar in you. I’d say run to the store and buy some ice cream.”

Despite that, you stand still. Eating for your physical health’s sake isn’t your priority, but to see the man again. The desire to see him is just as haunting as seeing delusions of your little sister.

He raises an eyebrow, folding his newspaper up and leaning over his desk. “Why are you so persistent in talking to him? From as far as I can tell, you two don’t know each other.”

He’s asking a question that you don’t know the answer to. He waits for a response, but nothing. You seem hesitant, figuring out why it’s your first instinct to see him. You just have to, but if you tell him that, then he’ll most likely kick you out anyway for an absurd reason.

Seeing as you won’t say anything, he leans back, returning to his newspaper. “Well then, I’m sorry but without a proper reason, I can’t let you see him.”

“But…!”

He sighs, losing his patience with you. “I will call Sheriff Tusk if you don’t leave us alone.”

With the threat of police involvement, it pulls you back. You turn to the door, your shoulders raised up.

“Damn city people, thinking they can do whatever they want.” The doctor whispers.

You stop in your tracks. Normally, you don’t let insults like these get to you, but his tone made it seem like you’re scum. You’re not being stubborn because you think you’re superior to the rest of them, but he paints it that way.

With your eyes filled with red, you spin around, marching right back at the doctor. He notices right away, lowering the newspaper and preparing for an attack from you. You clench your fist, getting ready to let him know what’s been in your mind and conveying that through a punch.

But you purposely look away from him, looking at the corner of the room, your inner voice telling you to stop. When you get to his desk, you nearly slam your hand on it before the last nanosecond, pulling the force back and your fists making a soft landing.

You stare straight into the doctor’s shaking eyes. You exhale heavily, cooling down your temper. “Sorry. I just wanted to say that mold is growing in the corners. You should give it a look.”

He raises an eyebrow, questioning your mental state. Absolutely nothing made sense, not even to you. You turn around and pacing out of the building. He fixes his glasses, having no clue what just happened. He looks at the corner, seeing the black mold growing.

———

Outside of the medical building, you crouch into a fetal position, hiding your face in your knees. You don’t know what’s going on with you. You don’t have full control of your body, and it’s scaring you. One second, you’re oddly pulled toward that strange man, the next second, you let your anger take the driver's seat. You’re beginning to think that you belong in an insane asylum.

“Oh my, what in the devil’s name are you doing?” Margaret jogs to you.

She crouches over, rubbing your back. She takes your arm and helps you stand up. You’re confused, not knowing who’s touching you or where you’re at. You come back to your senses when you see Margaret’s face.

“Don’t be sitting in the snow like that, you crazy woman! Look at you, dressed like a whore out here in the cold and only wearing a thin layer of clothes!”

Calling you a ‘whore’ was a bit uncalled for, but you don’t get angry.

“Jesus Christ, that damn doc discharged you early. That scum of a doc probably let you go early because he’s too lazy to take care of you. C’mon girly, come to my place.”

She holds onto you, letting you lean on her to her place.

———

In her kitchen, Margaret sets a tray of cookies from a tin box in front of you with a warm cup of coffee. You sit with your knees close to your chest, curled up in a ball. You pick up a cookie, but the edges start crumbling. After a bite, it practically falls apart in your mouth and makes your throat dry. You take a sip of the coffee, clearly tasting the stale flavor of the grounded beans and sink water combined. You try not to make a bitter look, but you can’t help it.

“That boy has been stirring shit up even though he’s the one being holed up in that den. The whole town has been talking about him.”

She takes a seat next to you, putting sugar in her coffee and mixing it with a spoon. She takes a sip, smacking her lips after tasting her awful coffee calmly as if this taste is normal to her.

“But seeing a young man is definitely a breath of fresh air. Like with you and your Kimmy friend, it’s rare to see youngins here. Maybe he was with those contractors from the other day and got separated from them.”

It’s the most sensible explanation, but it doesn’t explain why he was alone in the forest. If he was a part of those businessmen, then he would’ve long since gone into the town and asked for help.

“What were you doing there, on your knees like you were prayin’?”

Once again, there’s that hesitation. She looks at you, ready for you to spill your heart out, but two decades of being a closed book, it feels way too strange to share. Just from your silence alone, she can tell that you’re not comfortable yet.

“You know that by clamming it into your brain ain’t gonna make it better. Even if you don’t tell me, I know exactly why you’re freaking out like your ass’s on fire.”

It’s a weird simile, but you take it.

“I know your struggle, but it ain’t like I understand it though. That’s why you gotta explain it.”

You hold the cup with your two hands, looking down at your reflection in the coffee.

“Don’t think that just because you’re all grown up now that I don’t remember what happened to you and Annie. I’ve lived here for thirty years, and every single kid who went missing here has been imprinted in my head. If there’s someone you want to talk to, don’t be afraid to talk. Or…” Margaret wipes imaginary dust off your shoulders, raising her eyebrows and smiling widely like a cartoon character. “I’m wrong and you crushin’ on that boy.”

“What the…? No.”

“Lady, don’t hide it. I saw how much you were beggin’ to see that young lad. I know young love when I see it.”

“It’s not even remotely close,” You don’t know how this turned romantic suddenly. “It’s normal for someone with decent morals to make sure that the person they harmed is okay.”

“Whatever you say, girly.”

It was so long ago, but now you remember. That time when you first came here, Margaret also told your parents to scram. Being no taller than your mother’s waist, she looked like a giant—a real-life monster scaring you to death. You can’t recall the exact words, but she must’ve been just as hostile as she was with you and Kim on the first day. But with the lens of an adult, now you know that those shouts were for concerns. She must’ve seen you and Annie and knew what ill fate was about to occur.

You look out the window and at the clinic. That man is still in his room, doing God knows what. “Margaret, don’t get the wrong impression, but how much are your flowers and candy?”

———

One of the good things about this clinic is that it’s open 24/7, but the doctor sleeps at his desk. You open the door carefully, making sure that you don’t make a noise. You keep your eye on the doctor, nervous that he’ll wake up. In your hands is a bouquet of flowers and on the other is a grocery bag. You move your hands as little as possible, holding two of the loudest objects in your arms. Luckily, you manage to pass by without waking him up, your feet lightly making its way up the stairs and to the man’s room.

As you sneak through the halls, you’re beginning to think of yourself as a creepy person. You really went through the lengths to see a man who you’ve harmed once and spoken to once. You’ve always been questioning your mental stability, but this is pushing it. A part of you wants you to run out, but you’ve already put yourself deep into this mess to leave.

You make it to his bedroom, a single light coming from behind the curtains. You knock on the door, and although you don’t get a response, you can hear the sheets fluttering. You put your hand on the doorknob, but then you pull back, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. Sighing heavily, you think it’s best to leave. At this rate, what you’re doing can get you into massive trouble.

Just as you turn around, you hear a loud bang in the man’s room, followed by the ringing echoes of metal objects dropping. You scrunch your shoulders up, nearly screaming at the sudden loudness. This prompts you to open the door and check what happened.

In the room, you look around, but only darkness wraps around you, taking seconds for your eyes to adjust to it. On the ground is the man, squirming around, entangled in the blanket. You’re unsure of what to do, placing the grocery bag and bouquet on the bed. You attempt to pull the sheets off of him, but his kicking and punching creates a struggle for both of you.

“Hey, you don’t need to move so much…!”

After a while, you’re able to pull it off. When he sees you, he freezes, and you as well. You move back, on your knees, but having no idea how to explain why you’re here, you scratch the back of your neck.

“So uhm...what were you doing on the floor?”

Why did you even ask that, you idiot?! You want to slap yourself, but you remain cool. The man stares at you, having no idea how to answer you. If anything, he seems more frightened than shocked to see you. You try to think of anything to reassure him that you’re not a threat.

You grab the bouquet from the bed and show it to him. “This is for you.”

He stares at it curiously, like he doesn’t know what it is. He reaches over to grab it, but he pulls his hand back.

“Wh...where did you get this?”

“...I got it from the store…?”

Since it’s winter, most of the flowers have been shipped from other areas, but Margaret’s shop didn’t have that many, so the bouquet is rather small. He eyes it in awe as if he’s never seen these before. He pulls a rose out, inspecting every angle. He bends the stem, then picks a petal off. He does it again, and again, and again until his lap is surrounded with red petals. What’s left of the rose is the crooked stem, and the thorns.

He sweeps the crimson petals into a pile, finding the smoothness of it satisfying, pinching them in between his thumb and index finger. He raises his head, giving you round, innocent eyes, pointing at himself. “Are these for me?”

“Y-yea…”

You almost forgot about the second half of the gift. You grab the grocery bag, spilling the content all over the floor. It’s different kinds of candy—chocolate bars, jawbreakers, and gummy worms.

“When I came here last time, you were eating that pudding to death, so I thought you’d like to have more sweets.” You don’t even know if he’s supposed to be consuming this much sugar, but you thought that you just had to buy him these.

You give him a watermelon-flavored hard candy. He tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. That’s when he pops the candy into his mouth, not bothering to remove the wrapper.

“Ah! What are you doing?! Spit it out!” You sit up, pulling yourself closer to him.

Startled by your raised voice, he flinches at first, raising his arms up like you were about to hit him. He spits out the candy immediately, that childish curiosity disappearing. You move back, wondering if your loud tone scared him.

“You...you can’t eat it like that. You have to take off the wrapper first.”

You wait for him to pick up the wet candy, but he doesn’t. Not wanting to pick up the saliva-covered candy, you pick up a different one, showing it to him.

“Copy me.”

He picks up the one he spat out, pinching the wrinkled edges just like you. You pull it outward, the wrapper spinning and loosening. Once the twists come off, you unpeel the plastic, showing him a hardened sphere. You put in your mouth, letting the sweetness soak in your mouth.

“Like that.”

He does what you do, the candy twirling until it’s untwisted. He takes it out, eating it, and that’s when his eyes widen, astonished by how sweet it is.

“It’s sweeter than pudding!” He exclaims.

His enthusiasm for how sweet candy is is absolutely weird...yet endearing. For a man who’s around your age to behave like he’s experiencing sugar for the first time is abnormal, but it makes you feel...warm inside.

He tries to bite the candy, but he wasn’t expecting it to be this difficult and ends up hurting his jaw. “Ow…but it’s not soft like pudding.”

You hold back the urge to laugh. He definitely has been living under a rock if he didn’t know that he can’t bite it down so easily. That’s probably why the doctor gave him soft foods.

He reaches for another one, but you stop him. “What are you doing?”

“I want to eat another one.”

“I-I know it’s for you but...you should wait to have more in the morning. It’s not good for your teeth.”

He’s saddened, but he obeys. He folds his hand, but his eyes won’t leave the candy that you dropped everywhere. Unable to say no to his puppy eyes, you give him candy that’s easier to chew. Not letting him unwrap it himself, you open it for him.

“This is taffy. It’s strawberry flavor. I think you might like it.”

You give it to him, and lights sparkle behind his eyes. He eats it, savoring the taste. Seeing his smile makes you feel fuzzy, like seeing how genuinely happy he is for something as simple as getting candy makes you want to smile too.

“Uhm...I don’t know if I ever got your name,” but then you recall that he doesn’t remember his name. “Actually, wait...never mind.”

“...Taehyung.”

Taehyung? It sounds out of place for a town like Little Bare. He definitely isn’t from here, which only brings more mystery as to who he actually is. Other than that, it’s a unique name foreign to you.

“I’m...sorry for hitting you on the head. I wasn’t thinking straight and did something really stupid…”

“Yea, it really hurt,” he points out blatantly. “Just promise me that you won’t do it again. Not just to me, but to anybody else.”

It felt out of sorts that somebody as immature as Taehyung would give you a lecture, but you nod. “Promise.”

“Okay.” And just like that, he continues eating the taffy.

He scoots closer to you, losing the tensity in his muscles. Your determination to see him has finally died down, and now the timidness is entering your body. It’s impossible to distract yourself from him, watching him eat with absolute happiness, glad that you ignored the urge to run away and stayed.

You stare at the candies on the ground, the sensation of nostalgia overcoming you. You ate these when you were a child, and you ate these a lot with Annie, especially the watermelon-flavored candy. Since her disappearance, it was difficult for you to consume these again. But times have changed, and you bought these impulsively for Taehyung.

You bite the candy that’s in your mouth, breaking it into pieces to swallow, then putting the watermelon one in. Eating it was like going back in time, being that six-year-old, naive girl. You even ate this when you were here, fighting with Annie and not sharing one until your mother yelled at you to share. It’s such a trivial memory, but one that you remember vividly.

But this is the reason why you avoided anything relating to this town. It brings back memories that you tried so hard to bury deep in your head. You don’t want to be re-attached to emotions that you cut the strings to. You flutter your eyelashes, raising your head at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. You can hear Annie’s laughter, holding her small, chubby hands as you two run through the snow. You exhale slowly, but it’s shaky, and your chest feels heavy.

“(Y/N)...are you okay?” Your trance is broken when you hear Taehyung’s voice.

You return to your senses, surprised that he remembers your name. “N-no...I’m just...I just haven’t...it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung tilts his head to the side, observing you fighting back the tears as you rub your eyes. With your eyes closed, he extends his hand out, reaching for your head, but when you open them back up, he pulls it back immediately.

———

“Oh no, Tae, what happened this time??”

“They were pushing me around again. They were throwing snowballs and telling me to go away. They kept telling me that they don’t play with immigrants. What does that mean?”

“...Ignore them. Tell me where they hit you.”

“My head...they kept aiming there.”

“A snowball is not supposed to hurt. Oh dear God...you’re bleeding again. Don’t tell me, did they put rocks in the snowballs again??”

“I don’t know...but it really hurts.”

“My poor child…”

“...Mom…”

“Yes?”

“...Am I an alien?”

“What? No! You’re Kim Taehyung, the strongest boy.”

“But...I’m skinnier than the rest of the kids. Plus...they keep saying that I have small eyes. I can never beat them at racing.”

“Taehyung. Do you know what’s the strongest forest animal?”

“What?”

“A bear. They’re huge and can beat up anything that stands in their way. But you know what else makes a bear strong? Not only physical strength, but their will power to stay alive too. You may be a cub right now, but when you grow up, you’re going to be the strongest bear in the entire world! You’re going to be so strong that you won’t need to hibernate like the rest of the grizzlies. That’s why, no matter what, Taehyung, you’ll always be my baby bear. When you’re in trouble, call for me and I’ll be there. I promise I won’t leave you. Now, let’s get you treated at the clicnic.”

———

“Are you insane??” Kim’s booming voice echoes across the inn. Kim’s hands are on her hips, like a mother scolding her child.

You’re by the edge of the bed, startled by her voice.

“Did you really think that the doctor wouldn’t see the things you left for that guy? The doctor told me everything this morning. What the hell were you thinking, sneaking into his room late at night??”

You sigh, unbuttoning your coat. “His name is Taehyung.”

“His name doesn’t matter. What matters is that you broke into his room. It’s already enough that you nearly got in trouble for injuring him, but this? This is pushing it!” She wants to say more, but letting her anger out on you won’t do anything to ease it.

The way she lectures you reminds you of Suniya, and it might be because Kim is beginning to understand what she meant when she said that you’re disconnected. Logic does not correlate with you and you do things erratically.

“But I didn’t hurt him this time. We had a little chat, and I gave him a few things.”

“But did it really have to be during the middle of the night?”

It didn’t, but there was no other way if the doctor was going to keep you away from him.

“Is it because you felt bad?”

“...I guess? He’s a really nice guy. You should talk to him. Everything he says is interesting.”

You don’t need her to tell you that what you did was wrong, but perhaps she’s doing it because of how nonchalant you are.

“Miss (Y/N)...you can’t forget about why we’re here. This isn’t a vacation, we’re working, and we both haven’t even jotted down a single word. Fooling around with a stranger—”

“Taehyung.”

“...Taehyung...Talking to him is going to waste more time. He’s not paying for our meals.”

You fold your hands on your lap, glaring at it. She can tell you feel a little guilty, so she tries figuring out how to talk to you without you becoming withdrawn. She takes a seat next to you, but makes a clear gap between you and her.

“Remember why we’re here. There’s a story that we have to tell, right? To warn people that this place isn’t meant to be lived in.”

You pick on your fingernails, fully aware of your purpose for being here...but seeing Taehyung was almost like a calling...That night, talking and eating candy on the floor, it felt like an eternity since you last spoke to someone that didn’t have anything to do with work. Even though you’ve never met him before, it felt like you’ve known him for years.

“Yea...yea, yea. I know.”

“If you know, then let's start our work today. We’ve gotten comfortable with this place, so let’s start by interviewing the townspeople.”

“Okay.”

———

Laying on his back is Taehyung, raising his arms up and staring at the candy wrapper. He covers the ceiling light with the wrapper, and he smiles while thinking of you.

“Taehyung, focus.” The doctor snaps his fingers.

Taehyung flinches and crunches the wrapper in his hand. Sitting on a stool next to the bed is the doctor with a clipboard.

“Answer my questions. Have you recollected any memories since your stay here?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Nothing?”

He nods.

“So is it really your name that you only remember?”

He nods again.

“And you have no idea where you’re from? Not a clue?”

He shrugs his shoulders. His lack of vocal response irritates the doctor slightly, but forcing Taehyung to answer won’t solve anything either.

“Well then, your health is improving exponentially, so you’ll be discharged soon. If you still can’t remember who you are, then we have to figure out where you can stay.”

The doctor gets up and leaves the room. Waiting in the hallway is Sheriff Tusk, his arms crossed. They look at each other, disappointed looks on their faces.

“Anything?” Tusk asks.

The doctor shakes his head. “I can’t get anything out of him. He’s got the mentally of a child stuck in a man’s body. Despite that, he’s recovering at a rapid pace, faster than an average person. His internal injuries are practically gone and all he has left is for his scar to go away. But...something did happen last night.”

“What?”

“That city chick, (Y/N), snuck in here.”

Sheriff Tusk throws his head back. “What in the hell…? For what?”

“To drop off some gifts for him.”

“...You don’t think she’s tryna coerce him? She is the reason why he’s here.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I have no clue. I’m not sure if you remember, but she’s the one with the missing sister.”

“Oh, that’s the girl? Why the hell is she back here for?”

“From what Margaret said, she and her friend are here to write a book.”

Sheriff Tusk sighs, running his hand through his beard. “Fucking shit...It’s already enough that those goddamn contractors keep coming back…”

“Well, technically the girls aren’t causing harm, so far. I can have Margaret keep an eye on them.”

“Alright...I’ll continue with the investigation. For now, make sure that that young man doesn’t leave. Once I get things together, I have a few questions for him too.”

The doctor nods and Tusk walks off. Once the sheriff walks out of the building, he turns around and returns to Taehyung’s room. But when he opens the door, he nearly has a heart attack from Taehyung, who stands inches away from the door.

“Jesus Christ…! What are you doing out of bed?!”

“I heard you say (Y/N). Is she here?”

He thought that he and the sheriff were speaking quietly, so he wasn’t expecting Taehyung to eavesdrop, but he forgot that the walls are thin. He’s worried that he might’ve heard what they said, but he simply stares at the doctor with curious, naive eyes.

“No, she isn’t.”

“Do you know when she’s coming back?”

“No idea. Just go to bed.”

The demand from the doctor saddens Taehyung. He drops his head, slugging his feet across the room and back to his bed. Just like what Tusk said, the doctor is concerned that you might’ve influenced him to ruin the investigation between you and him, but it seems like he really likes you.

He puts his hands in his pocket. “Taehyung, be truthful with me. Did (Y/N) say anything to you?”

Taehyung rummages through his pockets and shows the doctor a handful of plucked petals and candy wrappers. “She showed me how to eat candy and gave me flowers. When you eat it, you have to take off this cover-thingy…” He pinches the wrapper.

“Mm-hm, okay. Anything else?”

“...Hm...oh, she also seemed kind of sad.”

“She what?”

He tries copying what you did last night, raising his head up and staring at the ceiling. “She wasn’t crying like a baby, but her eyes got watery.”

It’s no surprise. When the doctor first saw you, you seemed like a broken person upon first glance. But he didn’t want to say anything, believing it might’ve been too sensitive of him.

“...I think she hates me.”

“Hm? What makes you think that?”

“You said that she told you that she threw a rock at me and was angry, then she looked sad when she was with me. I think I hurt her before I forgot my memories.” He has a sullen look on his face.

Pitiful is what the doctor would describe Taehyung. His way of thinking is too pure...too black and white. There’s no complexity in him, so if the doctor were to discharge him, he would have no chance of surviving out there.

He leans over and pats Taehyung on the back. “She said that it was an accident and is sorry. Forget about it.”

“...But I can’t...How do you make someone forgive you?”

“You can’t make someone forgive you. Even if you’re the one who made the mistake, it’s up to the other person if they can fully accept what you’ve done,” he pokes Taehyung’s forehead. “Sometimes you think that seeking forgiveness comes from others, but it’s also forgiving yourself with what you’ve done.”

It’s too confusing for Taehyung to grasp what he means.

“But that’s saying if you really did something awful to her. Do you know if you actually hurt her?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I...don’t know. I think I did, but I can’t remember. I just don’t want to see her sad.”

The doctor can see the clear self-frustration in Taehyung. He’s convinced that he wronged you, but the real challenge comes from how he did it. But seeing him battle with himself, it leaves the doctor with a lingering thought… “I know you told her not to see me...but is it okay if I see her again? I want to say sorry to her.”

The doctor hums, thinking about that request. “I can’t make promises, but we’ll see.”

“Okay, thank you!”

———

“Don’t bother seeing him again.”

“What?!”

Later that day, the doctor came to visit you and Kim at your inn to drop the request. “You trespassed into private property and caused mental harm to my patient. And don’t you think it’s smarter to leave him alone, especially when you’re being suspected of physically harming him?”

“…I know what this is about.” You clench your fists.

“Miss (Y/N), please don’t…”

“You’re just doing this to spite us! You hate people from the city, so you’re treating us like shit!”

“Miss (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you think. But you shouldn’t be talking to someone who took the time to nurse you back to health.”

“Don’t use that excuse to justify your shitty behavior!!”

With your face turning red, Kim gets up and pulls you back from the doctor. You jerk your hands off.

“I don’t need an excuse when we have people here taking advantage of my town and the people living here for money. If you want to make money somewhere else, then do that instead, not my home.” He walks away.

“WAIT! COME BACK HERE!!” You shout.

“Miss (Y/N), stop it!!” Kim aggressively pulls you back, shutting the door to prevent you from running out. “What the fuck is going on with you?!”

“Don’t you see it?? He’s just doing that because he fucking hates us! I’m not doing shit to Taehyung!!”

“But he’s a doctor, you should listen to him!”

“Degree or no degree, you don’t need a Ph.D to be a complete asshole.”

“I can tell! Talk about yourself!” She blurts out suddenly.

However, she covers her mouth, regretting immediately with what she said. Her words pierce your heart, but in all honesty, you needed that slap in the face. You weren’t looking at yourself to realize how much trouble you were causing for others.

“Miss (Y/N), I’m so sorry I…”

“No...it’s okay. I needed that.”

“...But please...stop lying that you’re fine. You make it very obvious that something's bothering you.”

You sigh. “...I hate feeling guilty. It’s like...it’s all I could think of, and I hate it. That’s probably why I really want to see him. I can’t let this go.”

That heaviness in your chest caused by guilt is unfathomably painful—so heavy that it’s suffocating. You’re aware of your obsessive nature, and you’d like to control it, but it’s been so deeply rooted into your blood that even if you try to get rid of it, it’s almost impossible. That’s why it’s easier to pretend that the problem never existed rather than solve it.

“I’m sorry, Kim, for dragging you into this.”

Unlike the other conversations that they had before, it truly feels like you’re fully present. Your mind isn’t floating somewhere else, but here.

“It’s okay...people are bound to have their slip-ups. Just...listen to the doctor. I don’t want us to be kicked out.”

You bite on your thumb, not exactly agreeing to Kim, but just as she said, you don’t want to be forced out of town either.

———

Late at night, Taehyung is laying in bed, staring out the window as he counts the number of stars, even though he can count as far as ten. After hitting ten, he restarts and would end up counting the same stars repeatedly.

He hears a knock at the door, then the door creaking open.

“Hello…? Taehyung, are you here?”

Your voice brings a smile to his face, straightening his back. “I’m here!”

“Shh…” You peer over the corner of the wall. “The doctor is asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Did the doctor tell you to visit me again?”

“Ah ha ha...yea.” You avert your eyes.

He hears the rustling of the grocery bag in your hands. Curious, he looks down. “What’s in there?”

He bounces up and down excitedly. You take out the components in the bag, showing him some fruits and drinks. He’s in awe at the different foods you display on the bed, making his mouth water.

“Peaches!”

He picks up the pink fuzzball, almost taking a bite out of it before you take it away from him. “Wait!”

He slumps his shoulders, pouting.

“I didn’t get the chance to clean it, then I’ll cut it for you.”

You rush to the bathroom, rinsing the fruit before returning. In the bag, you take out a small pocket knife, cutting the skin and slicing it into pieces. He stares at it with wide eyes in awe, impressed by your cutting skills, even though it’s nowhere near astonishing.

You give him a piece, and he takes it, shoving it into his mouth and overwhelmed by the sweetness. “This is better than candy.”

“It’s more refreshing, isn’t it? I thought that since last time I brought you some unhealthy snacks, I’d give you healthier options. Well...that’s what I thought...but I couldn’t help but buy something else.”

You wipe your hands down on your jeans, but the stickiness from the fruit juice remains. You take out a can of soda, showing it to him, but leaving him confused. He creases his eyebrows, scratching his chin as if he’s trying to interpret what he’s looking at.

“...This is cola. You’ve had them before, right?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it.”

You open the can, the click of the carbonated fizz leaks out from inside. He’s so impressed by it, moving closer to the drink and smell the faint flavor of the cola.

You put it into his hand, and he hesitantly takes a sip. However, he gives a distasteful look, his face cringing from the strong fizziness of the drink. The face he makes makes it impossible for you not to laugh.

“It’s nasty…”

“I’m sure that if you keep drinking it, then you’ll love it for sure.”

He shakes his head, eating more peaches to get rid of the taste. Throughout the night, you show him the many different fruits, and he takes a bite with each one of them. No matter what it is, it will always astonish him, so keen to learn more.

Before you know it, hours have gone by, but it feels as though it’s only been minutes.

“How’s your head?” You ask.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the doctor is always asking me if I remember anything,” he makes a raspberry noise with his lips, falling onto the pillow. “That’s all we talk about.”

“Well...do you remember anything?”

He looks around suspiciously as if he’s making sure that there’s nobody else in the room. He leans over as if he’s going to whisper a deep, dark secret. “Don’t tell anybody, but I do remember a few things.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I remember them in frames, like still pictures. It’s foggy, but there are parts that came back to me.”

“What do you remember?” You lean closer.

“There’s a lot of snow, and I was sitting on the ground. It was really...really cold. Also, everyone looked taller and angry.”

Although it’s great that he has some memories come back to him, they’re vague. His memory is no different than how some of the townspeople treat you.

“Anything else?”

“...Oh, yea. There’s also a large cave in the forest too. I went there a lot.”

The mention of a save makes you shudder, and that’s when a wave of memories return for you. You know exactly which cave he’s talking about...the one you and Annie went to. You hug yourself, trying to forget about it.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You blink profusely, nodding your head. “Y-yea...I’m fine. Taehyung, I have to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“Did you...by any chance, ever run into a bear? Or a child? At the cave?”

He stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. “No.”

“...Do you even know about the Winter Bear story?”

He shakes his head again.

“...It’s...about a grizzly bear who’s the only bear in the entire world that doesn’t sleep during winter. Because of that, he gets lonely, so he kidnaps kids.”

Your knee begins shaking violently, motioning up and down at rapid speed. Taehyung’s eyes are fixated on your anxious knee.

“He...took my little sister a long time ago, and...it’s my fault. He...paid attention to me, and I liked it. And truth be told, I loathed my sister as much as I loved her.”

His eyebrows crease, not quite knowing what ‘loathed’ means.

“My parents, especially my mom, loved her to death. I still don’t know why. It might be because she was the baby of the family or if it’s ‘cause she resembles my mom a lot, but she was always favored. And imagine the horror that unfolded when they heard that their favorite child went missing and their least favorite child is to be blamed for.” You laugh at yourself.

You will never forget the look of terror on your mother’s face when you returned with your clothes torn and freezing. It wasn’t because of the state that you were in, but the fact that you returned without Annie. She immediately went around town, asking for help, and everybody searched to no avail. Your mother never directly stated that it was your fault, but the way she looked at you like she was going to throw up.

You so desperately wanted to apologize to her, but each time you tried it, she would change the subject. If you were insistent in talking about it, she would become violent. Items being thrown to the floor, her blood-curdling screams, those wide, gaping eyes glaring down at you like you’re vermin. It made you afraid of your own mother. That’s why you tried to bury your memories, and when you did, you either emotionally detached yourself or changed your thoughts to something else, just like how your mother did.

But every time you did think about your sister, you felt that immense guilt gulping you up. You would become manic—wanting to do anything possible to seek forgiveness. You would return to that fragile, little girl who wanted her mother’s love.

Taehyung searches through his pockets, giving you one of the candies that you gave to him. Some of the wrappers fall out of his pocket as well, but he ignores them. You raise an eyebrow, but he nudges for you to take it. It’s the watermelon flavor candy.

“The candies are so sweet there’s no room for bitterness. That’s what I learned after eating so much of it.”

You take it from his hand, unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth. And just like what he said, your tongue is overflowing with the sweet, sweet watermelon. When you look up at Taehyung’s face, making proper eye contact with him for the first time, you notice something odd. His expression is blank, but tears are falling.

You let out a single laughter. “Why are you the one crying?”

He didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he sympathizes, maybe even empathizes, with you. It always felt like when you said something, you got attacked in return. Whether it be Suniya nagging at you, Kim criticizing your rash behavior, those faceless comments on your article bashing you, or even your mother neglecting you when you tried mending the relationship, it felt like everything you did was a mistake. No one wanted to listen to you, and it made you scared to be honest.

He brushes your bangs away to get a better look at your face. Even though you barely know him, it feels like he’s been your longtime friend. Without thinking, you drop yourself onto him, hiding your face in his chest. You hold him tightly, silently crying on his shirt. He’s confused, as stiff as a rock. He slowly sets his hands on your back like an amateur hugger. But you’re no different either since you’re just as awkward as he is.

“I’m...sorry.” He apologizes.

You laugh through the sobs. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t reply.

You forgot how sticky your hands are—Taehyung’s lint gets stuck on the palm of your hands. You rarely talk about yourself, but with Taehyung, it feels oddly comfortable around him. Just the look of his eyes alone, you knew that he wasn’t going to judge you. You didn’t need to get defensive because you felt safe.

“Thanks for listening to me.”

———

You peek through the crack of the door, waving at him one more time before leaving. He waves back, mouthing the words, ‘please come back soon’. You nod, gently closing the door. You sigh, slightly embarrassed for breaking down earlier. It’s not every day that you have a heart-to-heart conversation with someone, so it was new. But you can’t hide that little smirk on your face, like some of that weight on yours has been alleviated.

“Seems like no matter how many times I tell you, you think you’re superior to me.”

Startled, you nearly scream when you cover your mouth. You spin around and meet eyes with the doctor who seems unsurprised that you’re here.

“Uhm...I can explain.”

“No need. I give up on trying to convince you.”

“...Really?”

“I don’t know what you want from that kid, but it doesn’t seem like it’s bad. Just don’t pick on him.”

“I’m not.”

“Even if I did tell you to stop, you’ll just continue breaking in late at night.” He walks off.

That felt...a bit too easy. You thought that he was going to put up more of a fight, but it might be because of old age or because of your stubbornness, he was quick to throw in the towel. However, you aren’t complaining about this and if anything, plays in your favor.

———

For the next few days, you have been visiting Taehyung. You two wouldn’t do much but talk, and these conversations would go on for hours. For once, it didn’t feel like your life was single-colored, and his liveliness was contagious. You found yourself laughing and smiling a lot more than usual. But it isn’t as if you two are doing anything spectacular, just talking.

There are traits of him that you’ve noticed. He has these moments where he’s easy to read, like a child, but there are other times when he’ll blank out and you have no idea what’s in his mind. He’s always curious about the world and whenever there’s something that he doesn’t know, he would ask you. He doesn’t ask the doctor and always goes to you first.

“Taehyung?” You peek through the doors.

No reply. Instead, you hear the shower going off in the bathroom, so he must be taking a shower. You thought about waiting in the lobby, not wanting to scare him when he’s out of the shower, but you also think it’s better to stay. Even though you and the doctor came to terms, it’s still uncomfortable being in the same room as him since he hasn’t let go of his distaste for city people yet. Despite treating you horribly, the doctor isn’t harsh with Taehyung. There are times when he loses patience with him, but never gets angry.

And speaking of Taehyung, you’re startled when you hear a thud in the bathroom. Alerted, you rush to the room, twisting the doorknob and seeing him on the ground, completely wet. You get down on your knees, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh, (Y/N), you’re here.”

“Are you okay?! What were you trying to do?”

“I tried turning on the water faucet, but I couldn’t turn the handle. I think I put too much strength and slipped after it turned on.”

“You should’ve asked the doctor for help,” you brush his hair. “Geez, your bandages are wet.”

“I do ask him, but he always looks like he’s annoyed at me every time I ask. I don’t wanna bother him anymore, so I wanted to try and do it myself.”

You groan. That damn doctor, only thinking for himself. “Don’t force yourself to do things especially since you’re still recovering. You should be resting instead.”

“...I’ve always done things by myself,” Taehyung slumps his shoulders. “Whenever I asked someone, they would always get angry.”

“Says who?”

“...Says everyone.”

‘Everyone’? You don’t know anyone other than you, Sheriff Tusk, and the doctor who visits him. Margaret would ask about him from you every so often, but you aren’t sure if she comes by either. Whatever it is, it’s bothering Taehyung, so much so that he’s so gloomy.

“Hey, you can always rely on me.”

He stares at you with wide eyes, but then he looks away, defeating himself before he gets the chance to smile. “But...you aren’t here all the time.”

“Well...good point,” you contemplate. “It’s not always possible, but just call my name and I’ll come to the rescue.”

It’s unrealistic. Obviously, you’re no superhero who can pop up to save the world with a single cry of help. You don’t want to give him hope and be disappointed when you don’t fulfill it. You feel like a parent—giving shallow promises just to shove his worries away, but at the same time, you’re being genuine.

“It’s a small town. I’m sure I can hear your voice. Besides, you were in trouble and I came in time to save you,” you pat him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s change your clothes.”

You grab him from under his arm, helping him get up. You walk with him to his bed. Once he sits down, you look through the cabinets for towels,  finding a white hand cloth folded on the third shelf. You go back to him, using the cloth to massage it over his wet hair, but not too aggressive to affect his injury. Whenever you wipe too hard, Taehyung’s face would scrunch up and he would put his hand on your wrist.

“(Y/N), do you have a family?”

“Hm? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“I’m just curious about you.”

“I do. I have a mom and a dad and...that’s it.”

“...Do you live with them?”

You shake your head. “I live alone.”

“Why?”

“It’s because...my parents and I don’t get along. After Annie went missing, my parents got divorced and I lived with my mom for a while. But I couldn’t stand living with her anymore so after I graduated high school, I moved out and lived on my own.”

“What does divorce mean?”

“You don’t know what it means?”

He shakes his head. “I heard people use it, but I never really knew what it meant.”

“It’s when a married couple doesn’t want to be together anymore and decides to separate.”

“Oh…”

“What about you? Do you remember your family?”

“A little bit. I don’t remember my dad, but I do remember some things about my mom. I think my mom left my dad when I was very young, so I lived with her. But we ran away from home and moved to a new place. I don’t know how she looks, but she always took care of me. And she always had bruises, too. But I don’t remember why.”

Your ears perk up when he brings up the notion of bruises. It definitely stands out. It makes you a little worried about what sort of environment Taehyung lived in prior to losing his memories.

“She also dressed differently from you. Actually...everyone from my memories doesn’t dress like you or the doctor or the policeman.” He tries to recollect his memories, but it only frustrates him more.

“Okay, okay. Don’t give yourself a headache. Take your time to remember everything.”

You continue to dry his head until you think it’s done. But just as you were about to leave, Taehyung places his hands on your waist to stop you from leaving.

Your cheeks turn red. “Tae-Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Thank you…(Y/N), for visiting me all the time. Even though I’m a good-for-nothing, you keep me company.”

You scoff. “No one called you a good-for-nothing. And if anyone did, just ignore them.”

Without thinking, you pat him on the head, running your fingers through his damp hair. He peeks one eye out to look at your face, but when you two make eye contact, he quickly hides back into your stomach.

“You won’t leave me? I don’t have to be alone anymore, right?”

There’s no reason for him to question you, and you know full well that that can’t be the case. After all, you’re here for work, not to make friends. However, you can’t bring yourself to break his heart. The way his voice deepened, his tone sounding so...solemn. Like he experienced trauma that he never wants to go through again.

“I promise.”

And with that vow, he raises his head up, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes become smaller from how wide his smile is.

“I really like you, (Y/N), you know that?”

Your heart nearly skips a beat, then your ears turn red. You fan your face, telling yourself not to misread what he said. “Me too. I’m glad we’re friends.”

He raises his head up, a little upset. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What?”

“I mean…never mind.”

———

“Count very slowly to twenty, okay honey?”

A younger version of Taehyung nods his head.

“Close your eyes and cover them with your hands. Don’t peek because if you do, then you’re cheating. People don’t like cheaters.”

He nods again. “Are we playing hide and seek like the kids?”

In the middle of the forest, the woman has Taehyung stand against a dead tree. The woman cups his cheek with her icy hands, brushing his curly bangs back as she looks like she’s trying to fight the urge to cry. Her lips are curled inward, and she opens her mouth to speak. But finding difficulty in letting one word out, she lets out a shaky sigh, averting her eyes from Taehyung.

He can’t keep his eyes off of the purple and green bruises on her frail arms. His mother is so thin that she doesn’t have any fat in her. She doesn't even have muscles—she’s skin and bones. Her eyes look sunken, like her eyes are shrinking. However, Taehyung didn’t think too much about her mother’s malnourishment because his body looks just like hers.

“Y-yes. You know that I love you, right?”

He nods for the third time.

“O...okay...if you love me,  th-then close your eyes and don’t peek. And remember: you’re a strong bear—so strong that you can withstand the winter cold.”

He covers his eyes with his hands, counting from one. His mother waves her hand in front of him. When he doesn’t jolt from her hand, she takes this chance to flee. He keeps counting even after being the only one in the forest.

“Eight...nine...ten...elevephen...twelve...fo...four...four…? Fiveteen...si-six…” He loses count, though he thought it was strange that his mother made him count to twenty even though he can barely count to ten. “...Mom?”

———

“I came from Korea.”

In the room, the sheriff is keeping record as Taehyung continues.

“I think...my mom and I immigrated here a long, long time ago. She said that we had a better chance of living here than there.”

“By ‘long time ago,’ can you give me a specific time frame?”

“...I can’t. It was too long that I don’t know.” 

While he tries to recall his past, he looks out the window and notices you with Kim. Unlike the stoic faces he made, his eyes light up, losing interest on the sheriff and onto you. Tusk glances over to you, clearly sensing the light-hearted vibe coming from Taehyung.

He walks over to the window, raising his eyebrow. “You and that girl have gotten quite close.”

“I like it when she’s here.”

“Even though she’s the reason why you’re here in the first place?”

His smile disappears. The doctor and policeman are always dragging him down with pessimism, so he doesn’t like it when they talk to him.

“She did hurt me, but she’s trying her best to make it up. What she did is wrong, but I forgive her.”

But Sheriff Tusk doesn’t seem convinced. He sighs, closing his notepad. “Well, this is definitely a step forward. It looks like I’ll let (Y/N) off the hook, and I’m confident that you didn’t harm her either that night. If there’s anything else that comes up, then update me whenever you can.”

“Okay.”

———

You glance through Taehyung’s window, only able to see the top of his head. You aren’t sure what he’s doing, but you pray that he’s resting. You’re so distracted that you weren’t watching where you were going and nearly tripped over a rock hidden in the snow.

“Be careful!”

“I’m okay…”

“What were you looking at?” Kim looks up at the direction you were staring at, then she understands. “Is it Taehyung?”

You nod.

“You two became fast friends. I would’ve never thought that it’d be possible.”

“I guess it is.”

“What do you guys even talk about? You’ll go visit and be gone for hours.”

“Anything, but he likes talking about food mainly. Though, he likes almost everything that I bring in.” You smile unconsciously.

Seeing your cheeks turn red, that’s when it hits Kim. She smirks, elbowing you on the arm. “I get it.”

“What?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“H-huh? What? N...No! Not like that.”

Not this again. You already went through this with Margaret, and you don’t want another misconception...right? You’re actually embarrassed to hear that in contrast to how indifferent you were when Margaret brought it up.

This is the first for Kim to see you in this state. You always appeared calm and collected—making almost every decision without hesitation. Having your more vulnerable side present makes you seem more human.

“If you try to deny it in that tone, obviously I’m going  to assume the other way around! You two hit it off pretty well in the beginning…I mean...You two got along great. You were even begging to see him.”

“Th...that…!”

“Why are you getting so shy? You’re a grown woman, no need to hide how you feel. You act like this is your first crush.” She laughs.

But when you don’t laugh along with her, that’s when she knew that her joke was true.

“Wait...you’ve never liked someone before?! I don’t mean to judge but...of all your years, you’ve never once dated??? Not even had a crush on someone??”

“Yea, I’ve never liked anyone before, but why are you assuming that I like Taehyung…?”

“You make it more obvious than the sky being blue. I’m not gonna lie, Taehyung is pretty handsome. Maybe if he didn’t act childish then I would’ve probably liked him too.”

“It’s not that he’s childish...More like, he’s very curious. But as I  said, I don’t like him in that sort of way.”

“Mm-hmm, you can deny it all you want. It seems like Taehyung’s into you, too. Well...no doubt since you’re the only person to ever talk to him and is around his age.”

You like being around him, but you’re not sure if you like him in that sort of way. You two barely met a few weeks ago, so it’s too premature to be walking through romance territory. Despite it being a few weeks, it truly does feel like you two have known each other for a long time though.

“Well, don’t be in denial for too long. We don’t have much time here until the train comes back, and I don’t think you would want to leave with regrets.”

“I know.”

You don’t like thinking about that. It’ll dishearten him, as well as you, when the time comes. But eventually, you have to tell him that you’re going back home.

“...You said that you’d like him if he wasn’t childish...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why are you so curious? I meant what I said.”

“So you’re saying you have a chance with him?”

She’s confused, but it takes her a while before realizing your intentions. She elbows your ribcage, laughing. “You’re jealous!”

“I’m...I’m not! I’m just wondering…!”

Kim never realized how easy it is to read you at times. You and Kim continue your conversation until you two return to the inn. As you two walk off, Taehyung watches from his window.

———

“Who’s the lady with you?”

“Lady?”

You’re in the hospital room, peeling the skin of an apple with a knife. The snow has been getting heavier these days and it’s been like this for a while now. The sky has become cloudy, and there’s no sign of the sun anywhere.

“She was with you when you first came here, too.”

“Oh, Kim? We’re acquaintances. We barely know each other.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

“Oh, okay. I thought you two were friends.”

“No, not really. She’s a nice woman though. Why do you ask?”

He keeps quiet, picking on his blanket as he sulks.

“I don’t have that many friends. The only other person that I talk to is my agent.”

His eyes widen.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“I thought you didn’t have anybody…”

You aren’t sure where he’s going with this. You set the sliced apples down on a plate, giving one to him to which he takes.

“I know a lot of people. It’s a part of my job as a journalist.”

“Are you...close with any of them?”

You’re confused with why he’s interested in your personal relationships. That’s when you get the hint, making you smile. “I’m not close with any of them.”

He sighs in relief and you laugh. Surprised by your laughter, he becomes embarrassed. “Wh-what??”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad about not having that many friends?”

He seems confused, so you realized that your initial assumption was wrong. His cheeks turn red, pouting. “That’s not it.”

You tilt your head, confused.

“I thought you didn’t have any friends or close family, so I was surprised with how close you were with that lady.”

“I know a lot of people, but it doesn’t mean that I’m close with them,” after Taehyung finishes one apple slice, you give him another. “Every relationship that I have with someone is different from the other. Like you and Kim for example. Kim is like my current work partner, and you’re…like a friend.”

It’s unusual to call somebody your friend. It was so easy for you to push others away, but Taehyung is the first person that you want to be close with. There was something about him that attracted you—like a fly buzzing toward a light.

And like an attractive light, Taehyung’s smile is just as bright. “I’m glad that I’m your friend.”

“Yea...me too.”

You thought about what Kim said, about how you feel about Taehyung. Of course, he’s a joy to be around—that bubbly yet curious personality of his is hard to dislike. It’s the sort of trait you don’t see too often in adults, especially in the big city, so it’s a breath of fresh air.

You peer over at the window, and it doesn’t seem like the weather is going to calm down. If anything, it looks like it’s going to get worse overnight. It’s so bad that you can’t even see a few feet in front of you.

“Oh no, it looks like there’s going to be a blizzard.”

The inn isn’t that far, and if anything, it won’t be an issue crossing over. But that isn’t the problem. Just the thought of going through a blizzard makes you feel...uncomfortable. Unwanted emotions return, the kind that darkens your mind.

Taehyung can sense the tension, so he thinks of something to bring you back. “Will you be okay?”

“Yea...I think so.”

But he isn’t convinced. Your face says it all, and you don’t want to go out there. He contemplates, then a light bulb turns on when an idea sparks.

“How about you stay here for the night?”

“Huh? No, I’m fine. It’s just snow, and this is a place for patients. I don’t want to take up space.”

“No one comes here and it gets a little lonely at night. If you go out tonight, you might get sick, then you’ll have to stay here for sure.”

“What are the chances that I get sick? Besides, the doctor might not—”

“I don’t mind.” The doctor shouts from the lobby.

His voice catches you by surprise. You didn’t think he could hear you two talk, so now it makes you conscious about how much he’s eavesdropped. The walls truly are thin here.

“See? Stay here tonight.” He reaches over, grabbing your hand.

His thumb strokes your knuckles and he gives you puppy eyes. You can’t say no to him when he gives you that look. You cover your mouth, hiding your burning cheeks as well.

“Okay...I’ll sleep in the room next door. Do you know if the doctor has any spare toothbrushes?”

“Yes, I do.” He shouts from the lobby again.

You sigh, wondering how much he’ll keep listening. “Thanks…”

———

You and Taehyung are brushing your teeths in the same bathroom. While you’re looking at yourself in the mirror, Taehyung is fixated on you. He’s trying to copy how you brush your teeth. Whenever you brush your right teeth, he does the same. When you move to your left, he does that as well. When you spit out the foam, he does the same.

After washing your face, you head to your room, and Taehyung follows. You look behind, stopping, and he stops as well. He’s holding a pillow and blanket, giving you the hint that he wants to sleep with you.

“What are you doing?” Even though you know, you still want to ask.

“I want to go to the same room. I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“But isn’t your room fine as it is?”

“Yea but...it doesn’t have you in there.”

You blush. “But sleeping in the same room is…”

He tilts his head, puzzled. With that innocent look on his face, you don’t want to say any further.

“Anyway, we shouldn’t sleep in the room.”

“But we stay in the same room during the day, and for a long time too. What’s wrong about sleeping in the same room?”

“It’s just…”

You know that he won’t do anything to you, but just the thought of sleeping in the same room is a bit too much. You truly are immature—being a woman in her mid-twenties and is still conscious about sleeping in a room with a man, not even the same bed.

“Is it because there’s only bed? You can sleep there and I can sleep on the couch! If you don’t like that, then I can move my bed into your room and—”

“That’s not it. We’re just going to be next door, so if you ever need anything, then just knock.”

He looks disappointed, but he doesn’t push further. “Okay…”

“Then...good night.”

“Good night.”

You walk to the room, and you look behind one more time, waving. He smiles and waves back. It’s saddening to see him look forward to sleeping in the same room as you, but you don’t want to push boundaries. You keep telling yourself that this decision is for the better.

———

The children are having a snowball fight. Just on the outskirts of the small  town, the kids build fortresses out of snow, using it as a shield to avoid the offense team. They’re running around and laughing, thankful for it to be snowing so they can play.

But approaching them with small steps is Taehyung, still as a child, his hands clasped to his thin jacket. He’s shaking violently, his skin so pale and frozen cold. His hair is a mess, dirt marks smeared all over his skin. His bottom lip trembles and has turned blue, but he still smiles.

His stench can be smelled from the distance, disrupting their fun. The smell of sweat is Taehyung’s signature scent, like a foreboding sign that he’s drawing near. He’s gotten skinnier since the last time he came to Little Bare. Bags hide underneath his eyes, his round cheeks absent.

“It’s Taehyung. Run away!”

The children hide behind the fortresses, and this hurts Taehyung. However, he remains determined and keeps smiling. “Can...I play with you guys?”

But his request isn’t heard. The children are occupied with making snowballs, combining it with the rocks on the ground to create spiky snowballs. They make enough to form a pile. They start throwing them at Taehyung, and although the first few miss, some hit his body.

He raises his hands up, using his hands to block his face. He runs off, but right at the last moment, one child is able to nail a snowball perfectly at the back of his head. THACK! Only he heard the impact to his head. It was hard enough that he fell forward, his face landing first.

The children laugh. “Hurry! Run before the hungry boy eats us!!”

They skip away to their homes. He loses consciousness for a few seconds before groaning. His head pulsates, touching where it hurts but immediately pulls his hand away because of how painful it is. Underneath his breath, he calls for his mother. He calls for her many times, but no matter how many times, she doesn’t return to rescue him.

Still, he wants to believe that his mother will return. She’ll return to him to make him a warm meal under a roof. He’ll finally get to eat candy like the rest of the kids, and maybe, just maybe, the kids will let him play with them. But for now, he has to prove that he’s strong in hopes that his mother will want him back.

As he gets up, limping as his desire to conform with the kids slowly turns into disgust. The animosity grows as strong as the dizziness that blurs his vision. He limps for what felt like hours until he returns to his new home—a large, ominous cave. The mouth of the cave is dark and hollow, like it can suck anyone of any size in.

He leans on the rocky walls, scratching his arm while dragging his body deeper into the darkness. He places his hand on the wall, leaving bloody handprints and smearing them as he moves. He falters, landing face first, which worsens the damage to the head. He turns his head to the left, and there’s a mysterious marking of a grizzly bear with strange symbols around it. It’s been there ever since he found the cave.

His vision blackens as his eyelids become heavier. One tear drops from his eye, apologizing to his mother that he couldn’t be as strong as she hoped for. Within two weeks of her disappearance, he’s giving up. Fighting became a chore, and now sleeping seems like a better option.

And thus, he closes his eyes for good. And the last thing he thought of was a wish. A wish that he could’ve made at least one friend.

But before he does, the drawing of the grizzly bear on the wall begins to glow.

———-

Taehyung gasps for air, clawing at his throat. He felt pressure on his chest, and it was so clustered that he could’ve sworn that he stopped breathing. He sits up, not realizing that he had been crying in his sleep. Looking down at his pillow, there’s a large puddle of tears and on his eyes as well.

He brings his knees closer to him, covering his ears as he squeezes his eyes shut. Stop it. I don’t want them anymore, he repeats in his head. His memories are terrifying, as if every time he goes back in the past, all it ever becomes is jumping straight into a nightmare. Waking up from an unwanted dream makes this damp room seem scarier, like there’s no one to protect him.

“(Y/N)...” You’re the first person to come to mind. But when he calls for your name, you’re not there. He recalls that you’re sleeping in the room next door.

He gets out of bed, grabbing his pillow and blanket as he walks out of the room. He drags his feet to your room, knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)? Are you asleep?”

There’s no response. He looks at both ends of the hallway, paranoid that some evil ghost is going to appear in either direction. He clutches onto the pillow tighter.

“(Y/N)?”

The calm snow has turned into a blizzard again, and the gales whistle in the cracks of the windows. The wind shakes violently against the window, almost like a robber trying to break in. It scares him more, so he lowers his head, praying that you heard him.

“(Y/N)? Are you there?”

It reminds him of his childhood after his mother left. After wandering in the forest for a long time, he found a cave. While he was excited to live there, nighttime was never his favorite. The large opening left him vulnerable to wild animals to potentially attack him. And standing at the center of the hall reminds him of that, that exposure of his body to the cold world, his life taken away at any second.

“I’m scared...so please…”

The doorknob twists, startling him. He gasps, holding his breath in, but he lets it go when it was you that opened it. You’re rubbing your eyes, yawning. “Taehyung? What are you doing up so late?”

He hastily enters your room, closing the door for you. “Is it okay if I sleep here?”

You don’t make an immediate response, which scares him that you’ll decline.

“I had a nightmare.”

It might be because you’re half-asleep, but it doesn’t take that much persuasion to let him sleep. “Alright...but sleep on the couch.”

“Okay!” He takes baby steps to the couch, placing his pillow by the arm rest and lays down. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Sleep tight.” And just like that, you go to bed.

Taehyung watches you sleep, seeing as you’ve already knocked out within seconds. He tries to fall asleep as well, but no matter how many times he tosses and turns, he can’t sleep. He’s gotten comfortable being the person he is now, happy to be here and seeing you every day, not the depressed child who was abandoned by everyone.

Some time has gone by, and he still can’t sleep. He’s staring at the ceiling, listening to you breathe steadily. The nightmare he had is as vivid as ever, experiencing the phantom pain that came with the head injury.

“(Y/N)? Are you still awake?” Without a response, it tells Taehyung that you’re not.

He sits up, staring at you. He gives it a few seconds before getting out of bed. He stands over your bed before making the rash decision to sleep next to you.

He lays down, his face just mere inches away from yours. Despite being so close, he finds your face mesmerizing. He’s so close that he can feel your breathing.

Taehyung wanted to lay next to you just to see how it’s like to sleep next to someone. It’s so comforting knowing that there’s someone next to him, like the paranoia has been swept away. The longer he stares at you, the redder his face turns. Even though it’s the middle of winter, his face feels hot. He sees you every day, but he can’t understand why he’s nervous now.

He wants to move closer, but your hand is in between your and his face. Rather than move it away, he bites his bottom lip in contemplation. He’s already crossing the line, so he’s afraid that you’ll push him away if he tries too much.

He puts his hand over yours, intertwining his fingers. Your hands are smaller than he thought, his palm already engulfing it. Not only that, but your hand is so warm. Your fingers jolt, which nearly made him pull his hand away. But after that, you’re still. He sighs in relief.

Laying next to him is you, the person who’s taken care of him since the beginning. Judging on his fragmented memories, you’re the first person to ever fight to be with him. It doesn’t matter the reason, he’s just happy that someone thinks that he’s worth it. But at the same time, you’re the person who got him into this mess. You’re the one who threw that rock, just like the other kids. You made his head bleed like how they did. And yet…

He forgives you.

He gently presses his forehead against your forehead. He wished you could stay with him forever so that he can never experience abandonment again. Taehyung is afraid that you’ll end up being like his mother—crying for your name but you never coming to his rescue.

———

The blizzard has died down, and the blaring sun blinds your eyes. You flutter your eyes open, using your arm to cover them from the light. You sit up, exhaling as your vision adjusts to the morning rays.

“Good morning!” Taehyung exclaims as he opens the windows.

You had forgotten that he slept here last night. Even though it’s early in the morning, Taehyung is as energetic as usual.

“Did you sleep well?” You rub your eyes.

“Better than ever.”

You barely remember what happened last night. You know you got up to open the door, but after that, it was a blur. Taehyung also looks chirpier than usual, though you don’t know why. It could be because he got what he wanted and sleep in the same room as you. Whatever the reason, you’re glad that he’s smiling.

As you get out of bed and into the bathroom to wash up, he glances at you. His smile is gone, contemplating some thoughts in his head.

In the bathroom, you splash water in your face after brushing your teeth. You look at yourself in the mirror and massage your cheeks, feeling a little conscious about making weird faces in your sleep. You hope that you didn’t make any noises during the night either.

You walk out of the door, startled when Taehyung turns out to be just by the entrance. “Whoa! Sorry, did I almost hit you?”

But he ignores your question, folding his hands together. “(Y/N), I was just wondering...but you live in the city, right?”

“Yea, I do.”

“...When are you leaving?”

“Uhm...we’ve been here for a pretty long time now, so I think I have a few days until our train comes to pick us up.”

He looks pained just hearing that. “Then...if it’s okay with you, can I show you something before you leave? I think I finally know who I am, at least, the more important parts of myself.”

“This...came out of nowhere, but I’m glad you remember everything. What do you want to show me?”

“It’s...where I used to live. It’s not that far from here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You live near here? Sure, I don’t mind, but are you even allowed to go out?”

“...Yea. The doctor gave me permission to leave. Is it possible to go later tonight?”

Tonight? You’re unsure about it. It’s too dangerous, especially if you two stray too far away from the town. “Can’t we go tomorrow morning? It’ll be too dark if we go later.”

“I know, but I’m afraid that if we wait in the morning, then i’m going to forget. Please! It sounds crazy...a-and stupid, but I don’t want to sit around and wait anymore. There’s...something I want to confirm with myself. My memories are jumbled up, and I feel like if I go as soon as possible, then everything will make sense. If not, then can we at least go when the sun’s setting?”

You’re still hesitant about it. But seeing the desperation in his eyes, it’s apparent that with or without you, he’s going to go on his own. The tale of the Winter Bear is real, and if Taehyung is taken by it, then it’ll be blood on your hands. If not that, then a coyote can eat him too.

It’s that feeling of responsibility coming back again. If you say no and he’s in danger, you have to live with guilt. You can’t bear to lose another person because of your selfishness.

“O...okay, I’ll go with you. But only in the condition that we go back as soon as you show me.”

“Thank you so much!”

Even though he seemed happy earlier, there’s an air of seriousness. You thought it was strange that he lives near here, and despite Little Bare being so small, no one knew he had been nearby all this time. Although he’s vague about it, it does make you curious about him.

———

“You’re going out again?” Kim crosses her arms.

While back in the inn, you’re putting on your coat. The whole day has already gone by, and you’re going to meet Taehyung just like you planned. However, Kim isn't impressed by it.

“Is he even allowed to go out? It doesn’t seem like he completely recovered.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Apparently, the doctor said that it was okay.”

However, Kim doesn’t seem to agree with your answer. She creases her eyebrows, putting her index finger to her chin as if thinking.

“What?”

“You know...you’ve been seeing him a lot lately. More than actually doing work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for not helping. Is there anything specific you wanted me to do?”

“No...it’s okay. I already have a basis for my book. Besides, if this was to help you reconcile with your past, then it’s alright.”

“...I feel horrible, like I didn’t help at all.”

She shakes her head. “No, you did a lot more than you think.”

You crease your eyebrows, not entirely sure what she means by that. Regardless, you’re glad that you somehow helped her, though not sure with what and how.

“But...I’m really curious. What relationship do you have with Taehyung? I know you told me that you just met him, but to be frank, whenever I do see you two talk, it seems like you guys have known each other for years.”

You don’t respond. This should be an easy answer, yet, you struggle.

“Miss Suniya told me about you. Mind if we chat for a little bit before you go?”

“Sure...” You sit down on a chair, then Kim sits by the edge of the bed. “What did she say about me?”

“She told me that you have selective memory loss.”

You’re not surprised that Suniya told her about your condition.

“I’m sure there are things that you do and don’t remember about this place, which is why it probably wasn’t so hard to convince you to come with me. The reason why I never bothered you to help me with the book is because I wanted to give you the chance to regain the repressed memories naturally.”

You don’t know where she’s going with this. “...Why is it important that I remember?”

“Well, I...this...you…” she stumbles with her words. “I just want to tell you that you’re a really special person.”

“...Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t think you understand how hard it was to get into contact with you,” She steps closer. “Miss (Y/N), you’re the only person who’s ever seen the Winter Bear and survived. You’re the reason why I became intrigued with this myth in the first place, but those blockbuster people paid news outlets to get rid of articles written about you to sell this myth as a friendly story, so I hit a dead end until I read your article and knew that I found you.”

Things are beginning to click, but you don’t like where this is going. “This...isn’t only about the myth...is it?”

“Do you not realize how big this story is going to be when I write about your encounter with the bear?! People are gonna go crazy over it, then people won’t look down on me for studying mythology. So that’s why, Miss (Y/N), I want to know your relationship with that Taehyung person. My instincts tell me that there’s more to him than what meets the eye.”

“So...you’re doing all this to make money?”

“Why else are we here?” Kim crosses her arms. “Miss (Y/N), don’t pretend to be a hero when we both know that you tagged along for the money, too.”

“This doesn’t feel right...and what about Taehyung?”

The misery that you went through only to be exploited for money is one thing, but for her to use Taehyung, it’s a different story. You’re so infuriated with her that everything in your vision turns red. You thought about punching her, but you manage to control yourself.

Kim gets on her knees, right before your feet. “Who cares about what he thinks? Miss (Y/N), we are writers trying to survive, aren’t we? No matter how many people compliment our writing abilities, words aren’t going to put food on the plate.”

“Stop it…”

You have a flashback of being a kid again, but in the hospital, being checked for any injuries. You didn’t show any physical pain, your mentality however…

“No, I don’t want to…”

“I need you to go back in the past and try. It doesn’t hurt to remember Annie, right?”

The image of your mother crouching over a chair, her face buried in her hands as she cries her heart out. You two are in the police station, waiting for any updates to Annie’s disappearance when a policeman broke the devastating news that they won’t continue the search.

“Don’t you want justice for your baby sister? So you need to come out and describe how the Winter Bear looks like.”

You cover your ears, fragments of your memories that you tried so hard to bury are returning to the surface. You remember the forest, knee-deep in the snow, meeting the friend you made during your stay here. You remember intertwining your pinky finger with your friend’s finger, promising that you’ll be friends forever. A childish vow that you wished you never committed. Because you also promised that friend that you’ll introduce Annie.

“So please, remember—”

“Stop it! I should’ve never come along with you!”

You get up from the chair, marching right for the door and slamming it behind you. Now standing on the other side of the door, you lean on it, rubbing your eyes as you grunt. You don’t want to remember; it’s better if they never come back. You like the way things are. You have nothing to worry about, you want to feel like there’s nothing to worry about. For now, you just want to see Taehyung.

———

At the front of the inn, Taehyung is already there, wearing a thick jacket but is still in his patient uniform. It’s already dark out, but you can see him clearly. When he sees you, he smiles and waves. However, you seem fazed with what Kim said. He’s quick to catch on to your discomfort, so he wraps his hands around yours. It catches you by surprise, but it goes away when he beams.

“How are you?”

“Great, how about you?”

“Good! It’s a lot colder than the last time I went outside.”

You chuckle. “Yea, you’ve been locked up in that hospital.”

“The hospital isn’t that bad. Anyway, are you ready?”

“Sure. How hard is it from here?”

“Not too far,” he takes you by the hand. “Come on, it’s already getting dark.”

He drags you to the direction of his supposed home. You look back at the inn, your senses finally returning and realizing that you’re really going to Taehyung’s residence late at night. You know you can trust him, but there’s something off about this that lingers in the back of your head. Yet, you don’t want to go back either, especially after hearing Kim’s real motive. You want to stay with Taehyung because you feel safer with him. Unlike many adults you’ve encountered, he’s transparent.

———

“Taehyung...are you sure you know where you’re going?”

As you two head deeper into the forest, the lights that came from the town disappear. You hold onto his hand tighter, fear crawling up your skin. It doesn’t help that it’s night either. In contrast to you, Taehyung is undisturbed.

“Yup, it’s beginning to look familiar.”

You regret choosing to go later in the day. If anything, you feel like a complete idiot for agreeing to go this late. It might be because you’re older and know the dangers of the world, but the woods seem far scarier compared to when you were a child.

“I don’t like this…! Let’s go back.”

After saying that, you hear a branch crack and it startles you. You let out a yelp, instinctively grabbing onto Taehyung’s arm. It doesn’t frighten him, so he’s clueless about why you’re afraid.

“If you’re scared, then hold on to me.”

Now conscious about your actions, you pull away, your cheeks flush with red. However, Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance to reconsider and drags you back into his arms. He wraps around your shoulders, squeezing you closer to his chest as he gives you a cheeky smile. You avert your eyes, sulking, but he’s not wrong about you being scared. You hold onto his shirt as you two continue walking.

To distract you from your fears, he changes the topic. “What kind of house do you live in?”

“Mine? Hm...well...it’s nothing fantastic. I live in a one-bedroom apartment.”

“That’s it?”

You nod. “It’s probably a little bigger than your private room back at the clinic.”

“Really?!”

“It’s small but so expensive...How about your home? I never got to ask if you live with anyone.” Though, judging by how no one that he knew came by to pick him up, he most likely lives alone.

“I live alone...and my home...is a little different from a normal home. It is big though.”

“Oh really? That must be cool. And to have it all for yourself too.”

“It was, and I thought it was cool because of how roomy it was...but it didn’t take for me to dislike it.”

“Oh...I’m surprised nobody has ever mentioned that you lived nearby...But speaking of your home, I was wondering, how long have you been living here?”

“Ever since I was a kid.”

“Really? And you’ve never ran into the Winter Bear?”

He shakes his head. “I rarely see bears in general.”

You thought it was strange how he’s lived here since he was a child and yet, he has never been kidnapped. If he’s lived here since he was young, then he would’ve been long gone.

“...My mother always told me that I’ll grow up to be strong. She said that I’ll be so strong that I won’t need to sleep like a bear who hibernates. And I believed her.”

Your ears perk up, listening to him attentively. You recall when Margaret that bears technically don’t hibernate.

“But a part of me thinks that it was mental training to prepare for when she abandoned me.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when I found a home to live. It was hard living by myself. Kids from Little Bare made fun of me for being a dirty boy and threw rocks at me until I ran away.”

“What are you talking about…? Little Bare doesn’t have any kids…”

“I hated living alone because it was scary, and all I wanted was a friend, or anybody who was willing to keep me company.”

What he’s saying is beginning to sound suspicious. You slowly pull yourself away from him, and it doesn’t seem like he minds.

“You know...travelling through my memories...I’ve always seen snow. Little Bare is always snowing no matter what year it is.”

“Taehyung...Little Bare doesn’t snow all the time. You know that...right?”

“Yea...so I wonder how the other seasons look like. It’s been so long. I learned that snow soaks in all sounds, which is why it’s always quiet during winter. I hate the silence more than anything. I want to know how it’s like to live where it’s filled with laughter.”

Taehyung draws near to his home, which is located in the middle of the forest. Horror slowly seeps under your skin when you start noticing how...familiar this place is. It was difficult to see the resemblance because of how dark it is, but once your eyes adjust to it, it looks as clear as your memories.

“So...it’s a little disheartening to hear that you’re leaving soon, (Y/N). I was hoping you could be here longer.”

You know this place all too well. Your legs begin to tremble, mortified that you have returned to the place that you desperately tried to keep buried in your subconscious. Standing before you is a large cave, towering over you and Taehyung. It’s like a gaping mouth ready to swallow anyone that comes in.

You fall backward, your hands buried in the freezing snow. You can’t get your eyes off of the cave as you hear haunting cries of children’s souls trickling from the depths of the hellhole; one of them sounds exactly like Annie.

Taehyung sees the pure terror in your eyes, crouching over as he tries to help you up. However, when he reaches his hand out, you finally remember exactly who Taehyung is. It makes sense why it was so easy for you to get along with him and why it felt like you’ve known him for so long. Back when you were six years old, this very person is the cursed Winter Bear—the monster who took Annie away.

You swipe his hand away, so shaken that no words are expressed. Your breathing becomes unstable, panic sets in, and your mind goes all sorts of directions. You think about one thing, but your mind heads the other way. You see Taehyung’s mouth moving, but you can’t hear it, only muffles. You can only hear a static ring fly across your ears. Even in the freezing temperatures, you’re sweating bullets.

“(Y/N)...I—”

“S-STAY AWAY!” You crawl backward, swinging your hand side to side to defend yourself from him.

It’s that innocent look in his eyes again that you vividly recall. He was able to transform into a bear and a kid, but when you first met him, he was a child just like you who found you playing in the snow by yourself. He lured you in with fictional affection, promising that he’ll never let you be neglected. It was all a ruse to lock you in that cave, just like the hundreds of souls in there, including your little sister’s.

He looks hurt, but he understands. Right as your memories are coming back to you, it’s returning to him as well. The screams of his victims, the scared look on their faces as they try to escape, and his vicious obsession of chasing after them. He pulls his hand back, knowing full well the crime that he committed twenty years ago. Just one glance at you and he knew that you won’t forgive him. So when you fled, he didn’t bother to chase after you.

All you hear from behind is the aching cries of a young man.

———

Keep running.

Don’t look back.

Focus in front of you.

You run through the forest without a light source. You don’t even know if it’s the right direction back to town, but anywhere is better than there. It was just like that time when you narrowly escaped Taehyung’s grasps. He was so occupied with your sister that he lost sight of you. Just like history repeating itself, you barely escaped his grasp.

You hate yourself for falling into his trap for a second time. Like a pied piper luring children, it was like his curse never uplifted. No wonder it didn’t take a lot for you to turn down the chance to come back to the town. You never learned from your mistakes, and that’s because you kept running away. You ran away so often that you even forgot his face.

Tears blur your vision, so you use your forearm to wipe them away. Despite the revelation, the resurgence of painful reminices, you feel awful for running away from Taehyung. You can’t forget the times spent with him, sharing personal stories of yourself and vice versa, and your friendship deepening. You promised him that he can rely on you, but you already broke it. But...how do you keep a promise with the monster who not only took your sister, but also took away your childhood?

You’re so focused on wiping the tears away that you bumped into someone and fell down. You scream in terror, kicking your feet as you try to get up.

“Hey! (Y/N), calm down!”

The person tries to grab your flailing legs, but you only kick harder. “STOP IT! LET GO! HELP!”

“(Y/N), (Y/N), it’s me! It’s me, relax!!” You feel two hands cupping your cheeks so you can look at the person. “It’s me, Suniya.”

You stop panicking. But your mind feels foggy, and for a moment, you’ve forgotten where you’re at.

“We work together. You’re a journalist, and I’m your agent. You’re twenty-six years old and live in the city. You graduated from the University of Redlands, and you’re the daughter of two parents who live miles away from you. You came here with a researcher to study the town called Little Bare. I came here because I was worried since I couldn’t contact you, then Miss Kim led me here.”

Your breathing becomes steady, regaining control of your unstable mind. It all comes back to you, and now that you got the chance to process what’s happened, your body becomes weak. The only thing you want to do now is cry. You hold onto Suniya, burying your face in her arms as you wail like a child.

Suniya is in shock, never seeing you cry this much before. She knew how much the Winter Bear affected you, but not to this extent, and it breaks her heart. She hugs you back, tears streaming down from her eyes as well.

“Suniya...I...lied. I lied to him again. I ran away. I got scared...I-I couldn’t think...then I left him there...An-Annie...I heard her cry. She was crying so much…”

“It’s okay...you’re safe. Don’t cry.” She hushes you.

She rocks you back and forth as you continue to sob. Your sentences are everywhere, but to question you in this state isn’t going to help. For now, what you need is to hide in somebody else’s arms until you’re okay.

———

“I shouldn’t never fucking agreed to this!” Suniya shouts.

In the room that you stayed in, Suniya is arguing with Kim. You’re sitting in the fetal position in the halls, your back against the wall. Even though the doors are closed, you can hear Yesosang’s voice as clear as day.

It’s the next morning, and you couldn’t sleep a wink. You and Suniya stayed in another room from the inn, not letting Kim know that you returned. The moment the sun rose, Suniya went straight to Kim’s room and has been arguing with her since.

“I thought I had to worry about you because (Y/N) can be a handful but...it was her that I should’ve been more concerned about. You're an absolute scum.”

“Please, try to understand from my viewpoint. Miss (Y/N)’s story needs to be heard—”

“‘Heard’? You mean use?! You don’t give a fuck about what she went through. I should’ve known better and not leave her in the hands of a stranger.”

“You didn’t need to word it that way. I was just trying to help her. I feel like, as a scholar in pursuit of knowledge, she has every right to remember every second of her memories.”

“Oh, don’t give me that scholar bullshit!! You’re no different than those Hollywood people exploited this damn town for money, and you’re not even different from us who are trying to live each day trying to make money. (Y/N)’s repressed memory is not your textbook!”

You can’t handle all this shouting anymore. You’re upset with yourself to make Suniya come all the way here, wasting her family time just to find you. Even though she blames Kim, you feel accountable for agreeing to go on this trip. Suniya can blame your mental instability all she wants, you’re still an adult, and you still said yes.

You wonder what Taehyung’s doing right now. Hopefully, he isn’t cold.

“We’re leaving tonight. You can stay stranded here for all I care. When we get back, we’re going to make sure that every publication doesn’t want to work with you,” Suniya stomps out of the room, taking you by the hand and dragging you with her. “Let’s go, (Y/N).”

As you two walk down the halls, she can sense the immense amount of guilt you’re carrying. She knows you’re blaming yourself, so she slows down and holds both of your hands.

“It’s not your fault, so stop worrying.”

You want to stop, but the guilt won’t leave. Once again, it’s suffocating thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this from happening.

———

Outside, a gust of wind nearly blows Suniya off of her feet. She was only able to keep still because she was holding onto you. “Holy shit, is the weather always this bad??”

“It became like this recently.”

“Ugh…if this continues, then we might not be able to leave. Sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine.”

Just as you two were returning to the inn, Magaret chases after you two. “Hold up just a minute! (Y/N), can I have a word with you?”

“Who are you?”

“It’s okay, Suniya. Margaret’s been taking care of me.”

She hugs you, almost making you break your back. “Oh dear god, I’m glad you’re alright. I heard that you went off into the forest with that young man. He didn’t touch you, did he?”

You shake your head.

“Thank god. Sheriff Tusk is currently looking for him and will make sure that his ass goes to prison.”

“Wait, what?”

“You can never fully trust men. They’re deceitful and only strive for one thing, and that’s—”

“Is there something important you wanted to say to (Y/N)? We’re in a bit of a hurry to leave.” Suniya saw how disturbed you became when she mentioned Taehyung.

Margaret scoffs. “In this weather? Lady, you’re gonna die if you go today.”

“Why?”

“It’s gonna be ‘nother blizzard happenin’ tonight, and it’s crazier than it’s ever been before. You outta stay one more night.”

But Suniya doesn’t have the patience to deal with another person. “Look, I know you guys don’t have that many outsiders, but I know when locals are trying to make tourists cough out as much money as possible. We’ll be taking our leave.”

What Margaret said about Sheriff Tusk going out to look for Taehyung, so it worries you that he’ll get in trouble. But knowing how quickly Suniya wants to leave this place, she won’t want to stay.

“Wait...I think you should listen to her…”

“You too??”

“The weather here can be pretty bad. We should stay one more night.”

“...Will you be fine…?”

You nod. “I’m not a kid.”

But she seems hesitant, but seeing as the weather is getting worse, it might be for the best. Besides, you’ve been here longer than she has, so she has no choice but to abide by your request. “Okay…”

Margaret’s eyes haven’t left you, clearly showing how worried she is for you. However, she doesn’t say anything as she knows you might want to brush it off. “Yea...it might be for the better.”

———

Later that night in the inn, you’re laying in bed while Suniya is taking a shower. And just like what Margaret said, the town is going through yet another blizzard. This time, it’s heavier compared to the first one. You’re still thinking about everything that happened the night before. You don’t know how you were unable to recognize Taehyung since the beginning.

Did you really repress your memories that much that you forgot his face? The cries from the children’s souls are still imprinted in your mind. Perhaps in the back of your head, you had a hutch that it was him, but his purity made you doubt yourself. Maybe you were keen on going back to him to confirm that it isn’t him from twenty years ago that you ignored the red flags.

Despite the tragedy that he caused in your family, you can’t forget the times spent together. Exposed to the reality of the world made you disregard that there are kind people like Taehyung. He’s caring...but you keep going back to when he lured you and Annie to his cave. It’s conflicting, like two sides of him that you know are real, yet they challenge one another. On one side, he’s your antagonist, but on the other side, he’s like a savior.

There’s a knocking at the door, alerting you. You get up, wondering if you should open it, but seeing as the knocking won’t stop, you get out of bed and open it. On the other side is Kim.

“Hi, Miss—” You nearly slam the door in her face, but she put her weight on the door just in time. “P-please, just give me a minute to explain! I just want to apologize for my selfishness!! I should’ve known better than to take advantage of your trauma.”

You take a second to rethink before opening it for her. You glance at the bathroom, hearing the showerhead still going off.

“You have until Suniya finishes showering to tell me.”

“Thank you…uhm...Again, I’m sorry...I was caught up with my own goals that I lost myself for a second. But...there are a few things that I’ve been doing way before I met you…” she shows you a vanilla folder in her arms. “Here’s some information that I’ve gathered from the town’s archives. It was not an easy task to obtain, so please take good care of them.”

 She passes the folder to you. When you open it, it’s filled with records that look so old that it’ll crumble at any second. Some of these papers feel like it’s decades old too.

“What’s this?”

“My research. I hope this is enough for you to forgive me...I think it’ll really help you with figuring out who Taehyung is and what this curse is.”

And just like that, Kim leaves. You close the door and set the folder down on the desk, spreading every individual paper out for you to read. Some of them are extremely old—going as far as the late 1800’s. The papers on top of the stack are about every recorded disappearance in Little Bare, even some that came after Annie’s. In total, there are a little under sixty child disappearances. As you go through each article, from most recent to oldest, you notice that at some point, the Winter Bear lore became big in the news in the 1950s when a wealthy child went missing. There was even an attempt to make a film out of it but was cancelled due to how controversial it was. To some extent, there was a children’s book in the 1940s about the bear as well.

But as you go back in time, there tends to be less coverage in the early 1900s, most likely due to new coverage of the two World Wars being more favored. A majority of its timeline has been skipped over, and now you’re in the 1880s with newspapers with titles like Exclusive!! Small Town Cursed with Black Magic or Real-Life Witch Doctor Lives!! Cave is an Accessway to Hell. The columns come with pictures of supposed real cave drawings, all are shapes resembling animals, some are birds, dogs, fish, and...bears. There are outrageous claims that the one responsible for those drawings used their blood.

However, as you skim through the articles, it explains what the purpose of those drawings are. Each one resembles the strength of each animal, bird = flight, fish = underwater breathing, etc. There are also theories that the etchings give the holder the ability to shapeshift, though it’s limited. In the third and last article, the title says, Breaking News: Immortality Exists...Or Does It?

Once you go through the papers, you make it to the last few papers. It’s been clipped together with a paperclip, and it’s a record of residences who previously lived in Little Bare. As you flip through them, some pages stick out to you. Some names in each year are highlighted with yellow, and it doesn’t take long for you to learn the pattern. Every name that Kim has colored in are Korean immigrants, and, in particular, there’s a large spike in Korean names in the 1910 records. In that exact, there’s only one name that has been highlighted and circled.

The name is Kim Taehyung.

After 1910, the Korean population here decreased significantly, to where there were no more. And the paper at the bottom of the stack is a black-and-white copy of a photograph with all the Korean immigrants that moved into Little Bare in that year. One there’s a pair that stands out to you. It’s a younger version of Taehyung smiling, and standing behind him is a woman, presumably his mother.

That’s when everything clicked for you. And in that moment, you take the picture from the folder, put on your boots and scarf, and take your thick coat before running out through the doors. You can’t wait for this blizzard to die down, and you have a feeling that it won’t if you don’t go now.

But you stop in your tracks, returning to the room, almost forgetting something. You look through the drawers to grab something small before putting it in your pocket before dashing back out.

———

The blizzard is more intense than ever before, even to the point to where you can barely see anything. Even opening your eyes wider already feels like they’ll freeze. You trek onward to the cave, praying that he’s still there. You’re fully aware at how ridiculous and idiotic this is, like you could’ve waited until it calmed down. But deep down, you know it won’t die down until you find him.

Thankfully, you made it to the cave without any problems. You pick up the pace as you enter the cave, shivering almost to death. Even with multiple layers of clothes, you’re freezing to the point where you can’t feel your feet. In front of you is the black hole that belongs to the cave. The cries of the childrens that Taehyung has taken lurks on the other side. You gulp, clenching your fists to stop them from trembling. You look over your shoulder at the blizzard. You can’t turn back now, so you have to push forward.

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and continue walking. The deeper you went, the louder the cries became. The walls start closing in, and on there are also the same animal drawings from the newspapers. The sound of water droplets complements the hollow cries. It’s getting so loud that it’s beginning to unnerve you. You want to cover your ears, but even if you do, the dreadful cries won’t leave.

But you know that the kids are trying to warn you to leave. They don’t want you to make the same mistakes they made. They’re children—pure souls who lost their young lives. They don't have any intentions to play tricks on you, so that’s why you have to keep pushing through because you have unfinished business.

“(Y/N)...” A young girl’s voice calls out from behind.

Even though you haven’t heard that voice in years, you know exactly who it is. Turning your head around, an apparition of Annie forms. There she is—in her blue-and-white striped dress and pink jacket with the brown boots. She hasn’t aged a bit, but she’s crying.

“Don’t go. Go back home where you have a warm house and people who care about you.” Annie whimpers.

Hearing her speak weighs heavily on your chest. You can’t hold back the tears, so you let it out.

She extends her hand out. “If you don’t hurry, then you’ll freeze to death here.”

Your knees almost gave in, nearly making you fall. Even though you know full well that she can’t be alive, a part of you feels relieved to see her again. It may not even be her, just a recreation that Taehyung made. She has to be his recreation because a two-year-old wouldn’t know to say this.

You approach her spirit, crouching down to her level. You wipe your eyes, exhaling while you smile. “Hi Annie, thanks for warning me. You’re just trying to look out for your older sister, aren’t you?”

She continues to cry, nodding her head.

“It’s okay, you can trust me now. Your big sister is now a grown up. I’m just going to talk to our friend.”

“But! That’s not a friend! He’s a monster who’s done bad things. It’s his fault that I died and that Mom and Dad hates you. He’s made you miserable. He’s the problem!” She cries even louder.

You tilt your head, your grin not once leaving. “I know, but sometimes people do things because they’ve been wronged, too. They won’t know that they’re doing something bad until they learn the good in the world. Our friend was just lonely because he left his homeland, then his parents left him, and no one wanted to be his friend.”

Annie finally stops crying.

“So when he finally made a friend, he wanted it to last forever. That’s why he took their souls. It didn’t help when he had more bad luck and became immortal and has supernatural powers. I just know that deep down, he’s a good person who’s been on the wrong path for a very long time. Right...Taehyung?”

You stand up, turning around after the spirit of your sister disappears. The cries from the children dissipate, and the only one left crying is Taehyung. You approach him slowly, and as you get closer, you can hear him repeatedly mumbling, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ under his breath.

“Am I right, Taehyung? It just got out of hand, and your fear took over you.”

“...I hate opening my eyes to this empty cave. Because I know that whenever I went to town, everyone else would have friends or families to return to when I had nobody. And I never asked to be cursed to live forever either! Why couldn’t I have died a long time ago?!”

He continues to wallow in his own misery.

“And it’s worse when I’m only awake during winter. I don’t even remember what spring, summer, or fall looks like...”

A bear who doesn’t sleep during winter isn’t strong, but a lonely animal because he’ll be the only one awake. Taehyung may be able to live for a long time, but in exchange, he has to hibernate for nine months because the curse is too strong to hold.

“I don’t want to be attached to you. I’m afraid that I’ll try to take you away, but I’m also scared that I’ll never see you again. (Y/N), you’re the only person who’s ever showed me kindness after a hundred years...and I’m afraid that I’ll never experience that again. So please...leave me when you still have the chance. You have a life out there.”

“You don’t have to stay here! You can live with me and—”

“You think I haven’t tried leaving? I’ve tried leaving so many times, but each time I try, I feel like I’m on a leash. The further I go, the more suffocating it gets. An invisible rope is around my neck, but I don’t die. You don’t understand...I’m stuck here forever.”

You don’t want to think about the many attempts he’s tried to end his life. You can’t imagine how you’ll turn out if you were stuck in his position. You’ll probably become insane like him, too. Waking up to the same snowy setting with no one to be there for you. After all, the color white can make people go insane if you see it too much.

You tighten your fists. “Then...then I’ll stay.”

“What?!”

“Let the children’s spirits free and I can stay with you.”

But he shakes his head. “No...don’t give me hope. Just go! Don’t waste yourself with me.”

“No, you listen to me. I’m willing to do it.”

“But...why?! I’ve made your life horrible, and I selfishly took your sister away. I’m the cause of all your problems! I don’t deserve anything from you.”

The pressure of the lives he’s taken away is beginning to weigh down on him, and it’s so much that he can’t handle it. It’s a complicated conflict where he took away so many loved ones from their family, including Annie, but the world was so unfair to him before he fell under this cave’s curse. He didn’t kill because he enjoyed it, but because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions and ended up releasing it in a way he never consciously meant to happen. No matter how hard you try to forget what he’s done, it’ll never leave. It’s engraved into your memory regardless of how much you’ve tried to repress it. You can’t forget but…

You scour through your pocket, showing him the watermelon-flavored candy. He’s confused, but in exchange, you beam. “This is my favorite flavor, and it’s yours too, isn’t it?”

You unwrap it, giving the candy to him. When he doesn’t accept it, you nudge it to him, then he hesitantly takes it.

“Eat it and let the bitterness go away.”

He stares at it, unsure of what your intentions are.

“Almost every kid loves candy, and it’s because of how sweet it is. It’s so sugary that it distracts them from their sorrow. But...it’s also special because of how short-lived the candy is. At some point, it’ll melt in your mouth, and then you’ll want another one, and you can’t keep eating it, otherwise your teeth will rot.”

He clenches it in his fist. “...Why are you going so far for me?”

“Because I like you.”

His eyes widen, almost as if he’s never heard of from somebody else. He thought he heard you wrong. Taehyung is so starstruck.

“I know I can never forget what you’ve done to Annie and what happened after...and honestly...I’m still conflicted. But after getting to know you, I realized that you’re a victim like anybody else. You can’t bring back the kids, but what you can do is learn from your mistakes. So...let the kids go and promise to never take another person’s life.”

You kiss him on the forehead for good luck. After pulling yourself back, but while you were caught off-guard, he leans over to give you a peck on the lips. He feels your chapped lips, which you find embarrassing, but doesn’t matter to him—only that his feelings have also been conveyed to you too.

He pulls back, too timid to look at you in the eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint you, so I vow to never take another person’s life, not even yours.”

“What…? T-Tae…”

“Like what you said, I can’t always be looking for ways to be in an infinite paradise. It’ll just leave me miserable, and I don’t want that to happen to you. What we had was special, and I’ll never forget it. So...it’s okay, you can go.”

From behind, you can hear children laughing. Small hands reach over, grabbing you by your jacket and dragging you away from him.

“Wa-wait, Taehyung! What are you doing?!”

He watches as you try to fight the children’s grasp, knowing full well that if they weren’t there to help him, then you wouldn’t leave. You have a feeling that this will be the last time you’ll see him, so you become choked up in your tears.

“No, don’t do this!”

But he doesn’t respond, afraid that if he says something, he’ll break down.

“Taehyung, I promise I’ll be back! I won’t leave you again! When you open your eyes for winter to come again, then I’ll be there to wake you up. And...even if I’m long gone, then I’ll make sure that you’ll never, ever, have to be alone,” You reach your hand out, extending your pinkie. “I promise.”

With one last look in your eyes, he saw hope. Over a hundred years later, he saw light at the end of the cave, that maybe one day, the curse that had been laid upon him will become a blessing. Maybe this time, he can see someone precious again without taking their life. Even if you don’t fulfill your side to the promise, just the facade of hope is enough to make him look forward to next winter.

Within a blink of an eye, he reaches over and wraps his pinky around yours. He’s so thankful that he’s crying uncontrollably.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

And with one swift move, the children’s spirits pull you out of the cave, separating you from him. Before you close your eyes, you could’ve sworn that you saw Taehyung in his child form, eating the candy that you gave him.

———

You regain consciousness after feeling someone shaking your shoulders. The first person you see is Suniya, bawling like a baby. When you opened your eyes, she froze, not sure about what to do next.

“Sun...Suniya?”

“Oh, thank god!” She hugs you tightly. “I was so scared that we lost you.”

You’re still in the woods. Though, the snow is beginning to melt and the sun is blaring down on your face. You look around to find all the townspeople surrounding you, including Kim.

“Jesus Christ, you gave all of us a fright, girl.” Margaret wipes her tears with her sleeve. “Goin’ out during the middle of a brutal blizzard. Are you insane?”

You look down at your hands, and they’re not trembling anymore. “I guess I am.”

It felt like a dream. In fact, every second you spent with Taehyung felt like a dream because of how fast time flew by. What you experienced in the cave, you don’t know if it actually happened.

You turn around, seeing that the cave is hollow. It’s a lot smaller than what you last remembered. The entrance is like a black hole, but it isn’t empty. But what’s better is that you don’t hear children crying anymore. You look back at the crowd, glancing at Kim who’s crossing her arms. One look and she knew that you overcame your trauma.

Suniya helps you up, putting your arm around her neck. Though your body is fine, your muscles feel weak.

“Come on, let’s go back and get you warmed up.”

“What the hell were you doin’ here, by the way?” Margaret asks.

“There’s just something that I needed to do...and I’m not done with it yet.”

[The End]

———

EPILOGUE

“Alright, next, I’m going to teach you how to make a campfire.”

You are standing in a circle around a bunch of kids. They’re wearing thick jackets with badges on them and have dark green hats with the symbol of a brown bear over a snowflake over them. They’re hugging their arms, shivering to the old.

“Do we have to make one now?”

“It’s too cold to do anything, Miss.”

“Can’t we just learn it back at the cabin?”

You shake your head. “The whole reason to make a campfire is to build it outside. Not only is the fire meant to keep you warm, but it also helps cook food and used as a light source.”

You grab some branches from the ground, wiping the snow off of it.

“You see how wet it is? It won’t make a good fire. It’s going to be difficult, but you need to find dry wood like this.”

You compare and contrast between the two, kicking snow off of the ground until you see dirt. You place the wood, taking out two rocks and creating friction to spark them. And just like that, you’re able to create fire. The kids stand around your campfire, awing at it as the flames rise.

However...the flames go out within seconds. “Oh…”

The children laugh. “What was that?”

“That was terrible!”

“Hold on, just give me one second…” You grab the wood to make a second attempt. “I swear it worked the first time.”

“Miss (Y/N), why are we camping during winter? Doesn’t girl scout camps happen during summer?”

“Yea! All my friends go during summer. My parents kept saying that this camp saves more money...but it’s unfair.”

“Well...let me tell you something. They can teach you all the methods of surviving during the summer, but almost every tip is thrown out the window when it’s snowing. I have a friend who used to be your age and didn’t know how to survive on his own in the winter. His mother abandoned him a long time ago and no one wanted to take care of him. So he was on his own.”

This gathers the attention of all the girls, so they surround you as you continue the story.

“He was starving and cold because he didn’t know the basics of survival, like making a campfire. He didn’t know how to fish nor did he know how to build a tent.”

“I hope she went to jail for abandoning her own child.”

“Why would his mother leave him?? That’s so messed up.”

“Sometimes, it’s not because they want to, but because they can’t. We’ll never fully know why she left him, but I think she did love him.”

“What? I think she hated him.”

“Because before she left him, she told him that he’s a strong boy. Maybe she left him because she knew that he'd survive. Of course, this is by no means a good method of parenting, but she had faith in her own son that he’ll make it through the winter.”

“I don’t think she cared about him,” one of the girl scouts crosses her arms. “Couldn’t he go to the police for help? They’re always there to help him find his home!”

“Yea, but it wasn’t that simple. You see, he was considered as...different, I guess you could say. People many years ago thought completely opposite from us, so no one wanted to help him.”

“Is he still alive?”

You fall silent, and this builds anticipation for your response. They draw closer to you, unable to handle the suspense.

“He’s still alive.”

They sigh in relief.

“Do you girls want to meet him?”

“Wait, can we??”

You nod. “He’s a little shy at first, but he’s super friendly.”

“How does he look like??”

“Hmm...he’s super tall,” you raise your arms up in the air. “And he has broad shoulders. His hair is so curly that it almost looks like cotton candy. He also has a mole under his nose and the most charming smile anybody has ever seen.”

You stare at the sky with dreamy eyes, and that’s when the girls understood the subtle hints. They elbow each other, giggling and covering their mouths.

But you’re clueless. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you have a crush on him, Miss (Y/N)?”

Your cheeks turn red, and they squeal with excitement. You press your knuckles on your lips as you become more flustered.

“Keep it a secret, but he’s my boyfriend.”

They scream, stunned that their leader has someone in her heart. You shush them, worried that their voices would disrupt the town’s peace.

“Di-did you guys do things...like kissing??” One girl whispers.

You nod, and they hide their screams behind their covered mouths. Then, you rub your stomach, feeling a lump. “Pretty soon, we’re gonna be a family.”

The girls have no idea what you meant, but they’re not at the age to learn about that yet.

“He’s the most important person in the entire world to me. He sleeps a lot, so I don’t get to see him that often, so every second I have with him matters until I get too old. Because of that, he’s afraid that one day when he opens his eyes, I won’t be there anymore. So, even if I’m gone, he’ll have enough friends that he won’t ever have to feel alone anymore.”

From behind a dead tree, you can see Taehyung hiding behind it. You snicker, certainly knowing that he heard the entire conversation. He’s probably trying to fight back his tears. Every time you visit him during winter, he would sob and express about how much he doesn’t deserve you. But since he went through decades of suffering, this is the least you can do to ease it.

You raise your head, pointing your direction to him. “Taehyung, would you like to sit with us?”

He peers his head over the tree, holding the bark gently while staring at the ground. He raises his eyes, trying his hardest to hide his smile.

“...Thank you.”

[End]

A/N: Thank you for everyone who read this, especially considering how long it is lol. I wanted to get this out during winter, but it took longer than expected ha ha. I hope you guys are all safe and healthy!! Don’t be afraid to leave any comments :) Have a beautiful day. ^^

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