#the scariest thing about this season by far

[starry-bite]

holy shit is season 3 of picard really about to make me nostalgic for season 2????!!!!

[kithtaehyung]

u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

—

—

“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 

“Barbie was great and you know it.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 

“I got this.” 

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 

It’s magical. 

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 

Ugh. 

At least he’s carrying everything. 

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 

“The lights are so nice, though.” 

“Uh huh.” 

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?” 

“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 

“Yoongi! You, too?” 

Huh? Him, too? 

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh. 

Fucking.

Hell. 

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 

How the fuck are you supposed to react! 

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 

“Why?” 

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 

“And you dressed basic for what?” 

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 

“Won’t help you, doll.” 

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 

Shit, you can’t do this. 

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 

You [10:02pm]: what🥺 

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 

You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 

This is bad. 

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 

Well. 

You [10:10pm]: 😐 

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 

“I will once you stop sexting.” 

“We are not!” 

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 

“A model.” 

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 

“Yup.” 

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 

Wait. 

Have you ever been that bold? 

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 

And rude. 

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 

Nope. 

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 

“You know what’s up.” 

“Dom!” 

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 

What? 

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 

Fuck, what if his hand is better! 

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 

And outside of it. 

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 

Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 

This is agonizing. 

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 

Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 

He’s not like that anymore. 

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together. 

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 

“Yeah!” 

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 

“Meow.” 

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 

“Yes, huh!” 

“No!” 

“Look! I have ears!” 

“No! You sound like a human!” 

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 

But what you do know? 

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 

There’s one other thing you know for sure. 

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 

“I am!” 

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 

“It does—!” 

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again. 

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 

“Hey!” 

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 

Still a goddamn menace. 

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 

“I am.” 

“So do something!” 

“Am I holding a basketball?” 

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 

“Fine.” 

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” 

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 

“Whose side are you on!” 

“You got something to say?” 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 

“No, I’ll make it.” 

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 

“The haunted house?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 

Huh. 

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away. 

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 

Because he’s watching that dude leave. 

Looking pissed. 

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 

Right?

…This is bold as fuck. 

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 

Yoongi is actually furious.  

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 

That’s probably best for everyone involved. 

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 

“Okay.” 

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 

Did you feel jealous? Upset? 

To your pleasant surprise, not really. 

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 

“You good to go home with your friends?” 

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 

“The fuck? On Halloween?” 

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“K.”  

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 

Maybe you should have left, too. 

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 

This is it. 

This is why you stayed. 

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever. 

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 

“Come here.” 

“You sure?” 

He hesitates. 

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 

However. 

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 

“Yoongi…?” 

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.” 

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.” 

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Please what.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned. 

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 

“This wouldn’t get old?” 

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 

“Yoongi, what—” 

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 

“We don’t have to, doll.” 

And if you’re honest… 

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.” 

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 

“Not telling.” 

Of course. “You suck.” 

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 

“No, but—fuck.” 

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 

“God, you’re so perfect.” 

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 

Oh. 

You know why he’s holding you so hard. 

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 

So you vow to make that reality. 

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 

So fucking unfair. 

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 

And you recognize both of them. 

“—like you said, right?” 

“I know, but…” 

It’s Tae. 

And Jimin. 

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 

“You really think so?” 

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  

What the fuck is he doing! 

This man is going to be the end of you. 

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 

“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 

“Most of it was your idea.” 

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 

“You just sat on it.” 

“I didn’t sit on that side.” 

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 

Adrenaline still at its peak. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 

“Do you want to?” 

You pause. 

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 

But if you stay… 

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.” 

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 

Holy fuck, what? 

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” 

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 

Fuck. 

Do you really go for it? 

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 

“So fucking wet.” 

Fuck. 

“Gonna take this dick so well.” 

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 

Well, you think he’s on the same page. 

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 

You feel bad. 

And it feels fantastic. 

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.” 

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer. 

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do. 

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 

Fuck! 

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.” 

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 

Because you want this. He’s earned this. 

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 

Yoongi is fighting for his life. 

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something. 

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death. 

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 

It’s definitely with Yoongi. 

Right now, you know your home is with him. 

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed. 

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end :)

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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[greenfiend]

Lonnie Byers

why he is far more significant in Stranger Things than we are led to believe...

“The scariest monsters are human beings and what we will do to each other.”

This post is very much inspired by @/kaypeace21's post on Lonnie from 2021. Just so you guys know, kaypeace21 theorized Byler LONG before most of us. She has a pretty good track record for predicting aspects of Stranger Things. This post will include some of her brilliant finds and will add even more evidence that was introduced to us in ST4 and TFS.

Warning: this post discusses some VERY dark and mature themes. I will allude to dark stuff at first but will leave the darkest stuff below the cut.

CW: Ab*se, CSA, substance use, DV...

The name Lonnie (nickname of Lawrence/Laurence) has two specific relevant meanings:

Lion and Oak tree. x

(Some symbolism examples: Nancy compares the Demogorgon (also titled: Deep Father) to a lion in ST1. In ST3, Holly notices trees (what looks like oak trees...) and looks frightened.)

For every mention of trees and predatory cats/lions I will add 🌳and 🦁 emojis respectively.

Keep both of these in mind as both predatory animals/cats and (creepy) trees are common occurrences within Stranger Things. I will touch on both of these throughout the post.

Anyway, lets start with the surface level stuff we know then I'll touch more on the darker subtext.

So, who is Lonnie Byers?

When we first hear the name Lonnie, he is brought up as a potential suspect by Hopper in Will's disappearance.

Joyce is quick to dismiss him as a suspect but does give us some important information about his character:

Lonnie "used to say [Will] was queer. Called him a fag." Whether or not he would say this to Will's face... he's obviously, not a great guy or father.

Joyce and Lonnie are divorced. She hadn't heard from him in about a year.

He doesn't like cops.

In The First Shadow, we actually learn that this is not the first time Lonnie is seen as a suspect in a case. (spoilers in next paragraph)

Lonnie was mistaken for Victor Creel and he was investigated for the animal murders by Hopper. This was not just a random choice, remember, Lonnie's name means Lion as in the predatory animal 🦁. Jonathan also told us that Lonnie made him hunt rabbits. This is a major hint! So, Victor Creel is innocent, and near the end of the play, Henry tells Joyce that she's so close yet so far from the truth (I'm paraphrasing). He's absolutely right though, the truth was right under her nose but unfortunately she doesn't see it (yet).

The fact that they made a very obvious comparison of Lonnie Byers to Victor Creel, the suspected murderer of his entire family... lets just say... it tells us A LOT.

Anyway, back to learning about Lonnie in season 1.

Joyce tries to reach out to Lonnie about Will, but is unsuccessful. He doesn't pick up the phone. His girlfriend does and says he's unavailable.

In a flashback, we hear Joyce and Lonnie argue about Lonnie not coming to play baseball with Will. She says she's "so sick of [his] excuses" which obviously means he has frequently made false promises/let Will down. He obviously does not prioritize Will.

To further prove that point, we later literally see him close Will off as he hammers wood right in the entry way for Will to return. The comic about Will's time in the UD gives a heartbreaking look into Will's POV. He cries to his father to not shut him out, but Lonnie ignores Will's cries...

Paralleling El's flashback to when Papa locked her in the dark room and ignored her cries... (the existence of that scene and many other flashbacks with El and Papa make me strongly believe that El's memories of Papa are altered version of Will's memories of Lonnie... I won't go into that much though in this post).

Just look at that obvious bright light in the closet behind Lonnie. Same light Will stared at prior to vanishing… That accompanied with El’s flashback of being locked in a room alone, paints a rather grin image. He’s trying to shut Will out.

Just from these clues so far, he’s not a good father.

To stay or to go…

(a bear (Will) vs. a tree branch 🌳)

If you pay close attention, you’ll see many references to this song within the show… and they even specifically made the association between a father and son when Steve called Dustin “dad”. Which father and son pair are the most associated with the song? Will and Lonnie… as that song first played in the scene where Lonnie tells Joyce he won’t be taking Will to baseball practice.

We can tell from these moments (and more) that dad wants Will to stay put and not go anywhere. We even have Dustin (the one symbolizing “dad”) telling Will to “get back here… I’m going to kill you.” Those were also the last words spoken to Will before he vanished. This is significant.

Suspicious Evidence...

When we see Jonathan visit Lonnie's looking for Will, there's a small bike behind him.

We know Will left his bike in the forest 🌳 when he vanished. Why does Lonnie have a child's bike?

Demogorgon also means "The Deep Father". I talk more about this here. Will is telling Mike in code that his father "got [him]".

Joyce is yelling at "Papa" that he took her son away.

The line of God (aka a father) taking "someone so young, so innocent" at Will's funeral with the focus on Lonnie.

In TFS (spoiler), Lonnie admits to stealing baby Jesus from the Nativity scene.

(GIF credit to @/kaypeace)

This specific shot tells us what we need to know. Lonnie is responsible for Will's disappearance. He is hammering the nail in the wall and it directly cuts to Mike representing the gate being opened with a pencil and paper. Lonnie is the reason the gate opened in the first place! Now, when I say that I don’t mean he literally opened the gate, I mean that the a*use he inflicted onto Will had caused all the monsters within the show and the creation of the Upside Down. Bold claim to make, I know… but bear with me here. As I will now go into the darker clues…

Lonnie's "Type"

Joyce refers to Lonnie's girlfriend as a "teenager". This is significant! Because (spoiler for TFS), Lonnie dated Joyce when he was 25 and she was 17!

This is a pattern for him. He not only preys on animals 🦁, he preys on teenagers... and it gets even worse.

Look, the implications here are, unfortunately, very clear. We see Lonnie look at Jonathan walking away, then he looks down at the photo of Will with the dialogue "He's kinda cute, hmm?"

"Maybe I'll trade you in for the younger model?" is said while Lonnie looks in Jonathan's direction.

Trading someone for someone younger. He likes them young.

He is a predator. You may not want to believe the truth here but as we know with this show... everything is intentional.

Let’s continue on with even more disturbing clues…

When Joyce and Hopper find Will in the UD, he is in a library (a place of archives, of documented history) And he appears like this...

He's being violated... by the vines. Vines, that grow on trees. 🌳Lonnie means oak tree... This is a representation of documented history that he had been se*ually assaulted by... the tree with vines... Lonnie. Also if you look into the full lyrics of “Should I Stay or Should I Go”… let’s just stay it’s disturbing how that song is associated with a young boy and his father…

Also... keep in mind that the vines are preventing Will from speaking. Will is being silenced as well.

Next season we see the MF force itself into Will. Again, another violation, this time by the MF (yes- the mother fucker, that is what Lonnie is after all). This was done on a field. A baseball field. We know Lonnie is associated with baseball.

And again, the MF (father) is silencing Will...

In this scene in ST3, we get yet another reference to Will being violated in the past. We are shown a flashback of the MF possessing Will, and we are given the comparison of non-consensual sex and the gate/door opening. We know this due to the term “penetration” being used in relation to opening the gate…

Murray states "the door had been opened once" while we are shown Joyce with a look of horror on her face. "It was still healing", as experiencing that does require a lot of healing.

“Larry the construction guy”. Larry is a nickname for Laurence. Lonnie is another nickname for Laurence. This line by Jonathan has multiple meanings.

Lonnie is in Will's head.

“Stuck up your nose”. Lonnie is, again, represented as violating Will.

When Jonathan confronts Lonnie we can see this Evil Dead poster behind them. Not only is it very visible but… Lonnie draws attention to it. This poster is significant! This woman is being attacked and choked by a tree. 🌳 The tree goes inside her… it violates her.

Lonnie wants Jonathan to take down the poster. This is important. He wants Jonathan to stay silent. More on this later…

If this isn’t enough symbolism to convince you, check out kaypeace21’s post where she goes in even more depth around the music/musicians Jonathan references, and even more background details that add to this. They intentionally painted the picture of him being a s*xual a*user, as the existence of all these clues all add up to the same conclusion. A very uncomfortable truth.

Dad, you’re choking me

Speaking of being choked, ever notice how this is something that seems to occur frequently within the show?

That Mike and Ted moment in particular stands out because it occurs right after the Jonathan and Lonnie confrontation with that Evil Dead poster in the background (being choked by a tree 🌳)… so the “dad” doing the choking here is absolutely Lonnie.

Yet another case of being silenced as well...

The Trunk

Probably the most concerning moment to many on the surface. Remember how “dad” said “don’t go… anywhere” and the symbolism of him shutting Will out? Well, let’s just say that it’s not a stretch to think he put Will in a trunk before.

It’s also worth noting that when Billy opens the trunk to see a tied up Heather we get a flashback of him choking her. This William is likely replaying the ab*se Will went through… he was possessed by the MF (father) after all.

Also, remember in ST2 they tied Will up and he shouted several times “why am I tied up?” Yeah… Also all those being suffocated references…

Substance Use

While everyone can struggle with substance use and it doesn’t make them a bad person, the use of substances causes the lowering of inhibition. “Lowering inhibitions means reducing restraints against behaviors that might normally seem inappropriate, dangerous, or taboo.” x This is why people under the influence of alcohol, and harder drugs can become more aggressive and a*usive.

When we see Lonnie's house, we see many cans of beer. We also see him drinking while he visits Joyce. He also encourages Joyce to drink too to help her "think straight". Hmm... strange choice of words I must say.

Now, I don’t think Lonnie just has an alcohol problem, I think he also has a stimulant use disorder. Stimulant = drugs like cocaine and crystal meth.

Kaypeace21's post goes into the details of the possible crystal meth use and how when Will was possessed by the MF, he was showing symptoms of a child on this specific substance (sweating, trembling, seizures, etc).

Another stimulant use reference, but cocaine this time. Remember Larry = Laurence = Lonnie.

There are many subtle references to drug use throughout the entire show from Papa forcibly injecting Terry Ives, El, Henry etc, to Reefer Rick and Eddie and plenty more.

Although we don't have much information on this, I think it is implied that Lonnie is a drug user. Not only does this mean that his impulses were less inhibited, but this also puts into question the possibility of further neglect. The Byers are not rich by any means, and if Lonnie is so focused on obtaining substances... that leaves barely any money for anything else.

"He made me do it…"

So as Jonathan told us, Lonnie made him kill a rabbit. The lion 🦁 forcing his offsprings (lion cubs) to hunt and kill, just like him.

This is something we have seen quite frequently within the show:

El being forced to harm a cat by Papa

Henry being forced to harm a rabbit while influenced by the MF (father)

(In TFS) Henry being pressured to harm animals by Papa

Will saying "He made me do it" in reference to the monsters attacking (he being the MF = father)

Billy saying "He made me do it" (again he being the MF = father)

D'art killing Mews

What's interesting to note is the fact that many characters are associated with rabbits and/or other small animals.

This likely also connects with the reoccurring theme of survivor's guilt within the show. Specifically, of the survivor blaming themselves for the death of others.

Max blaming herself for Billy's death

Mike blaming himself for El's death

El blaming herself for the death of the lab kids

Nancy blaming herself for Barb’s death

Lonnie forced Will to cause harm and/or blamed Will for the harm caused. We know how Will is, he's incredibly sensitive. This absolutely would weigh on his conscience.

Where’s mom in all of this?

We know she has been working a lot, but there could also be something else going on here. Could the allusions to her mental health issues come into play here as well? It's possible...

During "the source" scene with Billy's memories, Billy cries out because his mother is gone. Keep in mind, Billy's memories parallel Will's A LOT (the baseball, father calling him a "pussy"... etc), and the song "William" plays during this whole sequence.

It is likely that Joyce was separated (or emotionally distant) from Will for some time in the past...

Domestic a*use

To make the assumption that Will had witnessed DV between his parents would not be a stretch. We have already seen Lonnie and Joyce fight and it was not pretty.

We also see Billy's father slap his mom hard in the face (like I said, Billy's memories parallel Will's memories...)

We also have seen Lonnie gaslight Joyce already, trying to make her think she's "crazy" and we've seen them fight about Will and finances. This was no stable household for a young child...

Fear of the Truth

It isn’t discussed enough, but there’s a reoccurring theme of the fear of telling the truth. And no this isn’t just about coming out of the closet.

This is especially true when it comes to telling mom the truth.

El repeatedly preventing the boys from telling Mike’s mom what’s going on… specifically about the “bad men”. She fears the repercussions (demonstrating a gun pointed to her head… implying a threat… “I’m gonna kill you!”).

Mike and Nancy unable to tell their own mother what’s going on with them.

Jonathan unable to tell Joyce about “what’s going on with [him]”.

Lonnie telling Jonathan to take down the poster showing a*use and telling him to “behave” for his mother’s sake… he’s trying to silence Jonathan…

Nancy telling Mike “no more secrets”

Joyce telling Will he needs to talk to her (about what happened with the MF)

Dustin hiding D’art from his mother/the kids in general hiding the supernatural stuff from their parents

Billy unable to explain to Karen what had happened to him

Max telling Billy he needs to talk in the sauna scene

and plenty more…

Will frequently communicates in a code. We see this several times:

"It was a seven, the demogorgon got me"

Communicating through the lights

Drawing pictures instead of talking/explaining

Morse code

"Sometimes it can be scary to open up like that. To say how you really feel. Especially to people you care about the most. Because what if... what if they don't like the truth?"

The painting itself

The painting speech... using "El" instead of himself

Usually a*use of a child is not immediately obvious. Parents often think that they will immediately know if their child has been a*used, but often, the signs stay hidden. Remember that most kids are a*used by adults they know. X

Some of the common reasons why child stay silent:

They worry about being blamed, or mistakenly believe they caused the abuse.

Their a*user has threatened them in some way.

They know and maybe even feel close to their a*user and don't want to hurt them.

They think no one will believe them or help them.

Babies and children under 5 years old—who make up nearly 40% of maltreated kids—may not have the words to explain what happened to them, making it difficult or even impossible for them to ask for help. X

This is just important information that everyone needs to know. Child a*use isn’t obvious, the kid may even seem alright with spending time with their a*user… this does not mean the a*use doesn’t exist. That is a very harmful claim to make.

When it comes to a*use, especially child a*use, we must be vigilant. Because the child likely won’t tell us but they will show us the signs.

Some signs to look out for:

Any sudden, continued change in behavior.

increased anxiety

unexplained injuries x

Repressed memories

I’m just going to outright say it: the NINA plot line is important because it tells us a lot about repressed traumatic memories.

“Our brains have a defence mechanism in place to protect it from bad memories. You buried these memories long ago.”

Then in the last episode of ST4, we learn something VERY telling about Will.

Remember… Larry = Laurence = Lonnie.

They basically told us that Will only vaguely remembers Lonnie. This is an incredibly important clue to what Will is going through. Will’s trauma was so intense that he has been repressing the memories of his own father.

In ST5, this is absolutely going to be an important aspect to his arc and to the story as a whole. Will must come face-to-face with his traumatic past. Unlocking those memories will be key to finally defeating the monsters for good.

The Destroyer of Worlds

So, I’ve mentioned this many times before, but Will is compared to “Little Boy” the first atomic bomb. (Click here and here for posts about it).

He is a bomb that went off on Nov 6, 1983, freezing time, and forever changing Hawkins. J. Robert Oppenheimer was the creator of the real atomic bomb, and he was known as the “Father of the Atomic Bomb.” He was also known as “The Destroyer of Worlds”. Because Will is “Little Boy” and Lonnie is his father…

Lonnie is The Destroyer of Worlds. A perfect term for someone who inflicted such horror onto an innocent child. Because trauma like this has an incredibly profound effect on a young mind, in more ways than you can imagine. His actions are the catalyst for the chain reaction of this entire show. He pushed over that very first domino.

Why is all of this evidence so hidden? Why do we barely know anything about Will’s past with Lonnie? Because… instead of telling us his past, they’ve been showing it to us through the horrors. You have to look very deeply into the show to see the truth start to add up like a puzzle. There are many themes that reoccur/are alluded to within the show for a reason. And it’s all from one single source.

Demogorgon is The Deep Father, MF is the mother fucker (father), Papa is father, and it was Vecna’s father who was convicted of the murders.

It was father this whole time.

[battlekidx2]

I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.

Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.

The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)

I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).

Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )

Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy

The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)

They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.

They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.

Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:

Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!

The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus

I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!

The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)

Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.

Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).

The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.

I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.

I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.

My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)

LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.

The Cure for Inexorable Boredom

Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)

Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)

Don't Say It

I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.

I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.

I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).

These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D

[yanderes-galore]

Rhaenyra vs Aegon from (ASOIAF) rivalry concept?? What better way to make the sibling's fight worse than to add a Darling into the mix, am I right?

Whole CIVIL WAR happens and these two are upset they like the same person-

Rhaenyra Concept

Aegon II Concept

❗️Potential Spoilers for Fire & Blood/HOTD Season 2❗️

Yandere! Rhaenyra vs Aegon II

(Team Black vs Team Green)

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive/Protective behavior, Jealousy, Violence, Kidnapping, Death mention, Manipulation, Imprisonment, Stalking, Dubious companionship/relationship.

There's so many different ways to tackle something like this.

You could really be anyone.

A sibling, a favorite servant, a knight, anyone.

No matter who you are, you're stuck in this realm-wide tug-of-war game.

These two are not only fighting for succession now... but you.

One's the queen of Dragonstone, the other the king of King's Landing.

Honestly... you are in such a bad position no matter where you go or who you are.

You're caught in the middle of a war where both sides have dragons.

I bet that if they both like someone, said person's going to have the entirety of Team Black/Green breathing down their neck.

After all Rhaenyra leads The Blacks, Aegon leads The Greens.

With one order, you could be abducted for either side.

That's probably the scariest part of their rivalry.

You have no power in this situation, they do.

Which means just about anything can happen.

That's also the reason there's just... so much potential for this idea that I'm not even sure if I can cover it all.

Considering what both royals go through, they can both get unhinged.

They have both lost children to each other and they're only going to stop fighting when one of them is dead.

When I think of the obsession for this idea, my mind goes to a sibling or knight.

That way you'd still have somewhat of a connection with both sides.

Perhaps you're a sibling of either Rhaenyra and Aegon that gets caught up in the civil war... only to realize both royals want you for one reason or another.

Or maybe you're a knight (regardless of gender, they had both) who served Viserys.

Then when the war begins, you're torn between Rhaenyra and Aegon, both royals offering you the position of their personal protector (Kingsguard/Queensguard).

You most likely knew them before the civil war happened.

Then it develops into some sort of custody battle for the rivalry.

The alternative is you go with one side willingly and the other takes you hostage.

Then during your time as a hostage, the leader of the side who took you becomes obsessive until your side takes you back.

That's another way you can get them both to like you.

Now, in terms of yandere behavior?

Aegon is naturally hedonistic and would lean more towards romantic tendencies.

He can be both intimidating yet also pathetic with his obsession, often clinging to them and not afraid of executing those who get too close.

You're never far from his sight as his obsession, the king thrives off your care.

As king, Aegon feels he should get what he wants and be smothered in affection, he should always get what he wants.

He's only vulnerable with you... he needs you.

He needs a connection with you.

Rhaenyra is protective and more calculating than her half-brother.

For the most part she can keep her cool and her obsession can go either platonic or romantic.

For the first portion of the war she's calm, yet would fear people are trying to steal or kill her beloved as the war goes on due to trust issues and assassination attempts.

Although they both deal with such a thing.

Rhaenyra's used to the world being against her since she was young.

With her obsession, she feels she can at least trust someone.

She values loyalty between her and her obsession, making them sacrifice everything to dedicate themselves to her in the end.

Both royals utilize psychological and emotional manipulation to try and garner your loyalty.

Aegon lays the charm on thick... Rhaenyra often promises protection for your dedication.

The two have loyal members on their side that would listen to their every order.

I can actually see them both imprisoning their obsession if you're already with a side.

Rhaenyra no doubt sends Daemon to recruit/take you in for The Blacks on top of Caraxes.

Aegon may be less willing if you were already a Green supporter, but if you're with The Blacks he'll order Aemond to hunt you down and imprison you.

You'll get a cozy chambers with both of them, even if it is your prison.

This is another rivalry where I feel one of them is going to die in the end.

Whoever wins this Civil War also gets to have you.

There's no running, after all, how can you?

There's nowhere to go.

You could probably even go to the North and still have someone rat you out.

The two sides brew in tension as they take each other out.

Many common folk whisper rumors about the fact both sides are fighting over one person.

They mutter about your importance, both out of pity and bitterness.

Meanwhile, as you watch the carnage play out and are often tossed from cell to cell, you want nothing to do with any Targaryen.

Get used to dragon back, you're going to be on dragon back a lot.

You know blood is being spilled primarily for control, that this is a battle about succession.

Yet you also fear lives are being lost because you're involved, even if you don't want to be.

When you're with The Greens, Aegon often is seen with an arm around your waist.

In private he wants to trust you, to get affection he couldn't get from even the brothels.

When you're with The Blacks, Rhaenyra keeps you close yet under watch.

She provides hospitality and her affection is welcoming with friendly touches.

She respects you as long as you respect her, similar to Aegon, yet she fears you'll turn on her the longer you're with The Greens.

Aemond and Daemon are definitely doing the dirty work for their king/queen respectively.

They're the ones primarily spilling blood and sending spies to keep an eye on you.

However... Aegon and Rhaenyra wouldn't mind personally dealing with threats, Aegon especially, despite Aemond's protests.

Would things get gorey? Yeah.

Both sides would mount heads on pikes just to get a message across.

Their fight over you and succession would continue until near the end of the war.

By this point, most of their relatives are gone.

Rhaenyra just has her son, and Aegon's nearly alone.

The conclusion of the war is (un)fortunately also the conclusion of your own fate.

With wounded dragons, the two are prepared to end things.

The amount of blood doesn't matter to them.

They don't even care if the blood of their enemy gets on you.

All that matters is you.

The end of the war may mean you're no longer tugged between two royals...

But it certainly does not grant you any sort of freedom either.

[megamhafan]

(tw: mentions of csa, abduction, drug usage and domestic abuse) if you were to take away the monsters and fantastical elements in will Byers’s story, you’d straight up get a child struggling with the effects of csa along with it being allueded to that it has happened before. go read the theory made by @greenfiend for extended information https://www.tumblr.com/greenfiend/769426126766522368/lonnie-byers

season 1 part 1

we don’t see much of will in the first season but we do learn some things about him.

in s1 episode 1, we learn from joyce that the town has been insinuating/ suspecting that will might be gay.

we also get from Joyce and hopper’s conversation in the police department that will’s father lonnie, used to call him slurs. (keep a note of that)

in s1 ep 2, we actually see lonnie byers for the first time and we get information about him without it being verbalized when jonathan goes to his house to look for will.

he’s definitely an a abusive father as seen when Jonathan goes into his house and checks the cupboards ( for will)

we see lonnie push Jonathan, and then remark “you’ve gotten stronger” which seals the deal.

(if the bike isn’t evidence for the lonnie kidnapping theory, then. i don’t know what is)

eventually when jonathan is about to leave, he gives lonnie the missing poster of will. and makes a comment

“incase you forgot what he looks like”

and lonnie’s weird girlfriend, cynthia walks out and says this weird line…

“he’s kinda cute, maybe i should trade you in for the younger model” (talking about jonathan)

she also could be talking about will, considering she did glance at the missing paper beforehand.

but i want to click those two stated lines together.

as we can see, lonnie’s girlfriend is very much a young woman in her 20s, while lonnie is a man in his late 40s approaching his 50s. so it is very weird for him to be involved with her.

lonnie has always be interested in people who are barely adults/ still teenagers.

lonnie was 25 when he started dating a then 17 year old joyce.

in child predators, they don’t repeat the actions of going for younger and younger people because they actually are attracted. they do it because it’s taking advantage of someone younger, someone who might not know better.

if we’re going based off the theory that lonnie abused his sons that way, then the pattern of preying on younger and younger people clicks in with the “incase you forgot him” line.

lonnie abused jonathan first, then when will came along, he abused both. and when jonathan reached puberty, lonnie left him alone.

(note: people who prey after children, specifically boys sometimes stop when they reach puberty as they begin to have bodies that don’t resemble girls anymore)

he continued with will, and never stopped. only seeing will as a smaller and younger jonathan, and thus “forgetting what he looks like”

because his sons blended into one person in his head.

in s1 ep3, troy and james walk up to the boys and start joking about will being dead. troy even says that “he was probably killed by some other queer”

he also adds a little bit of context to where he heard that. “at least that’s what my dad says”

troy says that his father told him that. and if you look at the home lives of troy and will, they’re very similar.

abusive dad

worried mom

not too well off financially

now we know that the duffers like to drop hints and clues about characters in the background and also about the lives of certain characters so that i can’t take away from the main story.

so what if troy is being used as a mouth peice essentially to explain why the town came to the conclusion that will is gay.

if you move around the things he says, you get…

“he was probably killed by a queer”

“at least that’s what dad says”

lonnie was the one who started the rumor in town, he’s the one who eventually started saying a queer person killed will.

s1 ep4 & ep5 will’s “body” is found in the quarry and hopper has to tell joyce that they found him.

this is also when lonnie shows up, he plans to sleep on the couch for a few days and attend the funeral.

he does something that always confuses me.

when he is arguing with jonathan in his room, he tells him to take his evil dead poster down because it’s inappropriate.

i assume he means that because the house is grieving, they shouldn’t have anything up on the walls.

but i think it’s more than that.

as stated by other theorists, lonnie’s name means oak tree, and the woman in the poster is being grabbed by a oak tree.

i’ve always seen that it was supposed to represent what lonnie did to Jonathan.

but with all this moment from episode 2 in particular…

it has me thinking that lonnie wants it down because it brings to light what he did to his son, how he took him and what he’s been doing to him for years. specifically it’s Jonathan making it visible what his father did to will.

and now that will is “gone”, lonnie wants it hidden forever. buried with his child.

which makes the moment where Joyce finds the check for the money that lonnie wants to take out because of will’s “death”, even more compelling.

it’s joyce not just confronting what her ex husband is doing via taking money out to pay his debts, essentially using their dead son for money.

it’s her confronting that lonnie has been using his son for things that you don’t use a child for.

she kicks him out, making sure that he doesn’t come back to harm her or her children again.

while all of this is going on, mike and the rest of the boys are at school attending will’s memorial service, when they hear troy and James talking about will.

after this, mike confronts them angrily, because it’s a messed up thing to do.

troy then says these lines

“what’s there to be sad about anyways?”

“he’s flying around with all the other little faries, all happy and gay”

this moment would then cause mike to snap and push troy.

also to note that mike was absolutley ready to fight troy, if it meant protecting the image of his friend.

when troy gets up ready to go and attack mike, he looks like he's going to punch him, but is stopped when el secretly squeezes his bladder with her mind, causing him to pee himself.

(note: troy’s face is of uncomfortableness, rather than embarrassment)

when we get to part 2, we’re going to talk about this first, along with a intermission

[seongsangssbitch]

SELFISH WALTZ | Seongjoong

Sypnosis- When Seonghwa's curiosity leads him to explore fanfiction after San mentions it, he stumbles upon stories about Hongjoong loving him with breathtaking warmth. The fictional devotion both comforts and pains him, as Seonghwa realizes such tender love could only exist in fiction, never in their reality.

WARNING- ↱THIS STORY WILL INCLUDE↲ ╰┈➤Idol Au ╰┈➤Best friends to lovers ╰┈➤Angst ╰┈➤No smut ╰┈➤Neurodivergent Seonghwa(not explicitly mentioned) ╰┈➤Denial of feelings ╰┈➤Mutual pining  ╰┈➤Unrequited love ╰┈➤Happy ending ╰┈➤Miscommunication

Pairing:Idol! Seonghwa x Idol! Hongjoong

Word count- 15.6K

@asherthehimbo hi baby, read this *winks*

"The scariest thing about distance is you don't know whether they'll miss you or forget you." — Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Hongjoong had been Seonghwa's best friend since their trainee days, a bond forged even before they debuted. Perhaps it was their close age gap that drew them together, or maybe it was something unspoken and inexplicable. Seonghwa could never pinpoint it exactly. He only knew that Hongjoong was special to him, a constant in his life, someone who had nestled himself deeply into his heart.

In the early days of their debut, Seonghwa thought Hongjoong felt the same. It was easy to believe. The way Hongjoong treated him—gently, preciously—felt like proof of something unique between them. But the illusion didn't last long. Hongjoong was like that with everyone. He wasn't just Seonghwa's; his kindness and affection weren't reserved for one person.

Seonghwa saw it when Hongjoong wiped Yeosang's face lovingly during practice, coaxing a rare smile out of the quiet boy. He saw it when Hongjoong curled up beside Wooyoung at night, their shared giggles audible even through thin dorm walls. It was there when he shyly kissed San and Mingi's cheeks as a playful show of affection, or when he cooked Jongho's favorite meals on the rare days their maknae felt low. Hongjoong even stayed up all night watching movies with Yunho, laughing loudly at inside jokes Seonghwa wasn't part of.

It didn't take long for Seonghwa to realize that he wasn't special. He wasn't the only one to receive Hongjoong's love, and he never had been. The realization came early, but it didn't soften the blow. The damage was already done, carved deep into his younger self's heart. He'd been so delusional then, letting himself believe he could hold a unique place in Hongjoong's life.

And now here he was—older, more seasoned, and no less pathetic. He was hopelessly, achingly in love with Kim Hongjoong, his leader, his best friend, and the person he could never have.

Their friendship, if it could even be called that, had always been peculiar. A tangled mess of boundaries blurred and feelings left unsaid. If Seonghwa thought about it too much, he realized it wasn't friendship at all—at least, not on his side. Hongjoong was someone Seonghwa loved with a depth that frightened him. He'd said it before, too. Not just once, not twice, but countless times. He'd told Hongjoong he loved him, usually in moments when the younger wasn't paying close attention, letting the words pass as something lighthearted. But Seonghwa always meant it.

Hongjoong was someone Seonghwa knew he would have in his life forever, no matter the distance that might separate them someday. Even if they grew old far apart, Seonghwa would still treasure every memory of him. Yet, he often wondered if Hongjoong thought about their connection with the same intensity. Did he feel the weight of it, the way it consumed Seonghwa? Or was Seonghwa just the foolish, desperate one, clutching tightly to something fragile and undefined?

That thought was the cruelest of all.

"Seonghwa-hyung," San's voice carried into the quiet room, breaking through the rhythmic sound of clicking Lego pieces. Seonghwa didn't need to look up to know who it was. The mischievous lilt in San's tone was unmistakable.

He glanced up anyway, his hands pausing mid-assembly as he carefully added another piece to the rose bouquet he was building. Beside him, a Ddeongbyeolie and a Jjongrami plushie sat like silent companions, their soft forms leaning against the corner of his desk. The bouquet was almost done, a delicate gesture of affection he planned to give to Hongjoong—though, of course, he hadn't yet decided if he'd actually follow through.

"Hey, Sannie," Seonghwa greeted, arching a brow. "What's up?"

San bounded into the room with his usual energy, his bright grin lighting up the dim space. Before Seonghwa could react, San leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Seonghwa froze, startled.

"You're acting weird," he said, narrowing his eyes at the younger man, though the corners of his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

San burst into laughter, hopping onto the edge of Seonghwa's bed like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," he teased, his giggles trailing off into something more conspiratorial.

"Alright, what's going on?" Seonghwa asked, turning back to his Lego bouquet but keeping a wary eye on San.

"So," San began, dragging the word out dramatically,

"today on live, I was messing around with Atinys—you know, just the usual stuff—and I stumbled upon something juicy."

"Juicy?" Seonghwa echoed, frowning slightly.

"Do I even want to know?"

San wiggled his eyebrows in response.

"Oh, you definitely want to know." He leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was sharing a top-secret piece of intel. "It's a guilty pleasure they've been trying so hard to hide from me. But of course, they failed. Miserably."

Seonghwa tilted his head, both amused and intrigued despite himself. "And? What is it?"

San smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "Member x member fanfictions," he declared, watching Seonghwa's reaction like a hawk.

Seonghwa blinked, processing the words. "Fanfiction?"

"Yup," San said, popping the 'p' with a grin. "You wouldn't believe how red they got in the comments when I started teasing them about it. It was hilarious!"

Seonghwa let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Of course, they write fanfiction. Atinys are creative like that."

"Oh, but hyung," San said, leaning in closer, his grin widening into something almost predatory. His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and mischief, the kind that usually spelled trouble. "You should see some of the pairings. They're... let's just say, very interesting."

Seonghwa groaned, already regretting his decision to entertain the conversation. He carefully set down the Lego piece he was holding, bracing himself for what was coming next. "San, I'm not sure I want to know what you found," he said, though his curiosity was already gnawing at him.

San's smirk widened, and he leaned back dramatically, clasping his hands together like he was about to deliver some groundbreaking revelation. "Oh, but hyung, you do want to know. Trust me."

"San..." Seonghwa warned, his tone half-exasperated, half-resigned.

San ignored the warning entirely, his voice dropping to a teasing lilt as he delivered the blow. "You and Hongjoong-hyung."

Seonghwa froze, the words hitting him like a bolt of lightning. His face flushed crimson almost instantly, the heat creeping all the way up to his ears. "W-what?" he stammered, his composure unraveling as he turned to San, wide-eyed.

"You and Hongjoong-hyung," San repeated with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying Seonghwa's reaction. "Turns out you two are, like, the ship. The most common one, actually. I saw it everywhere—Twitter, Tumblr, even TikTok. And get this—" San leaned forward again, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. "You guys made it to the top 100 ships on AO3. Isn't that crazy?"

Seonghwa's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He could feel the blush deepening, his heart racing at the mere thought. "T-top 100?" he finally managed to croak out, his voice embarrassingly weak.

San nodded enthusiastically, clearly relishing every second of Seonghwa's discomfort. "Yup! Atinys love you two. They've written, like, thousands of fics about you guys. Some are really soft and romantic, others are..." San trailed off, biting his lip to suppress a laugh. "Well, let's just say they're creative, anal sex, mpreg everything."

Seonghwa buried his face in his hands, groaning loudly. "I shouldn't have asked. Why did I ask?"

San's laughter echoed through the room, light and teasing. "Relax, hyung! It's not a bad thing. It just means people love you two together. Think of it as a compliment!"

"A compliment?" Seonghwa peeked out from behind his hands, his voice muffled but incredulous. "How is that supposed to make me feel better?"

San shrugged, still grinning. "I don't know, maybe it'll make things less awkward next time you're around Hongjoong-hyung. Or... more awkward. Who knows?" He hopped off the bed, his laughter trailing behind him as he made his way to the door.

"Goodnight, hyung! Sweet dreams!" San sang out before disappearing into the hallway.

Seonghwa groaned again, slumping back in his chair. Sweet dreams? Not likely. He was pretty sure tonight's sleep would be haunted by thoughts of fanfiction and the image of him and Hongjoong being, of all things, a ship.

He tried to ignore the thumping in his chest, the way his heart seemed to beat just a little faster at the mention of Hongjoong and him being a "ship." Turning his attention back to the Lego rose bouquet in front of him, he picked up a piece and tried to focus, but his hands hesitated. His mind refused to quiet.

Top 100 ships?

The thought lingered like a stubborn tune stuck in his head. Did Atiny really see something between them? Was there something Seonghwa had been missing?

Chemistry...?

He shook his head as if trying to physically dislodge the idea. It was ridiculous—Hongjoong was just being Hongjoong. Affectionate, warm, and attentive. Not just to him but to all of them. Yet the idea continued to gnaw at him. What if they were right? What if we do look cute together?

The question sent a flutter of warmth and anxiety through him, and he groaned softly, leaning back in his chair. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself.

But it wasn't ridiculous enough to stop him from setting the unfinished bouquet aside and moving to his bed. Curiosity—it was just curiosity, he told himself, grabbing his iPad from the nightstand. That's all it was. He unlocked the screen and hesitated for a moment, his finger hovering over the search bar.

Am I really doing this?

The answer came in the form of a deep breath as he opened both AO3 and Wattpad, their familiar interfaces glowing back at him. He typed the words almost mechanically, as if by distancing himself from the action, he could pretend it wasn't a deliberate choice.

"Seongjoong ateez."

The search results loaded, and his screen filled with rows of stories, summaries, and tags. His eyes widened at the sheer number of them. Thousands of fics, each with titles ranging from soft and romantic to downright scandalous. Some were short, others were multi-chaptered epics, but they all had one thing in common—him and Hongjoong.

Seonghwa's hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the screen, his pulse quickening with every passing second. Rows upon rows of stories stared back at him, teasing, taunting. He scrolled through the list aimlessly, the sheer volume of fan-created worlds overwhelming.

"What am I even doing?" he whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the quiet of his room.

He should stop. It felt invasive, like he was prying into something deeply personal, yet entirely detached from the reality he lived in. But his curiosity burned brighter than his guilt, refusing to let him put the device down.

His eyes landed on two titles that caught his attention:  "Forbidden Colors" by larryloverq on Wattpad and "Between the Lines" on AO3. The summaries were enticing enough to make his heart flutter, though a pang of trepidation lingered in his chest. He hesitated before selecting the Wattpad story first, curiosity urging him forward.

The screen loaded, revealing the first chapter. As Seonghwa began reading, he found himself skimming more than anything, skipping between the chapters to get to the moments that felt the most significant.

It didn't take long before his breath hitched. In this world, Hongjoong was hopelessly, achingly in love with him—so much so that he sought out a one-night stand with someone who looked exactly like Seonghwa.

The revelation sent a jolt through him.

His chest tightened as he read the words, eyes scanning the page in disbelief. The idea was absurd, ridiculous even, but the way the author wrote it made it feel so heartbreakingly real. Hongjoong's imagined desperation, his longing to have Seonghwa even in such a fragmented, indirect way, clawed at Seonghwa's heart.

He didn't know whether to feel flattered or devastated.

Hongjoong, as the story painted him, was so deeply in love that every glance, every touch, every word was infused with an intensity that bordered on worship. And yet, the weight of that love was unbearable, so consuming that even the fictional Hongjoong resorted to fleeting replacements for something he couldn't have.

Seonghwa leaned back against the headboard, his lips parted in silent disbelief.

It's just fiction, he told himself, his fingers tightening around the iPad. This isn't real. None of it is real.

But the ache in his chest refused to subside.

Was it so impossible to imagine? Was there really no part of Hongjoong's affections that were uniquely his? The Seonghwa in the story wasn't him, not really, but the longing described in those paragraphs made him wonder. Did Hongjoong ever see him like that? Could he ever?

The thought was equal parts heart-fluttering and heartbreaking.

Shaking his head, he tried to pull himself out of the spiral. "Get a grip," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. He turned off Wattpad and switched to AO3, his curiosity far from sated.

This was supposed to be harmless, a little indulgence to pass the time. But as the pages blurred before him, Seonghwa began to realize he might have stepped into something far more personal than he was ready to admit.

The writing was exceptional, far beyond what Seonghwa had anticipated. It wasn't just fanfiction—it felt like literature. The words flowed with a grace and precision that reminded him of great authors like Jane Austen, weaving intricate emotions and subtle nuances into every sentence. At moments, the prose carried the suspense of a Dan Brown novel, pulling him into its grasp and refusing to let go.

His fans were so creative, so heartbreakingly talented, that he couldn't help but admire them. The way they crafted these imagined versions of himself and Hongjoong, so vivid and alive, left him in awe.

And yet, their talent was what made it so gut-wrenching.

Every description, every stolen glance, every unspoken confession was written with such painstaking detail that it felt real. Too real. Seonghwa could almost hear Hongjoong's imagined voice in his head, could almost see the way his fictional counterpart looked at him—like he was the only person who mattered.

It shattered him.

With every passing word, the lines between fiction and reality blurred, pulling him into a world where Hongjoong's love was something warm, unwavering, and unhidden. It was the kind of love that lingered in the spaces between words, in the cracks of silence, in the way a gaze could speak volumes without uttering a sound.

But it wasn't real.

It couldn't be real.

Seonghwa's chest tightened as the ache grew. The version of Hongjoong on the screen—the one who adored him so openly, so selflessly—was a creation, a fantasy born from someone else's imagination. It wasn't the Hongjoong he saw every day, the one who treated him as a cherished friend but nothing more.

And yet, the writing had a cruel way of making him wish otherwise.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe. His hands clenched around the iPad, the device feeling heavier with the weight of emotions he didn't know how to name. He admired his fans, truly, but in this moment, their talent felt like a double-edged sword.

Because their words had made him believe, even if just for a moment, that this kind of love was possible. And when reality came crashing back down, it left him in pieces.

He didn't even notice the fat tears spilling from his eyes, rolling down the smooth surface of his freshly moisturized skin, and landing with soft splashes on his tablet. The words on the screen blurred as the wetness smeared across the glass, but he didn't wipe them away. His mind was too heavy, his heart too full, and the ache in his chest too raw to allow for anything else.

He didn't notice how snotty his nose had gotten, how his sniffles were growing louder in the quiet of his room. The air felt thick, like it was closing in on him, but he barely registered it. All he could feel was the relentless ache, the sharp pull in his chest that left him struggling to breathe.

It hurt—more than he wanted to admit.

Because no matter how much he prayed to the universe, no matter how many times he wished on stars or whispered his quiet longings into the void of the night, one truth remained unshakably real.

Hongjoong wasn't his.

The realization hit him like a wave, pulling him under its suffocating weight. He clutched the tablet tighter, his knuckles turning white as if holding onto it could somehow anchor him to something solid, something real.

The Hongjoong in the stories was perfect—soft yet strong, unwaveringly devoted, and unafraid to wear his love for Seonghwa on his sleeve. That Hongjoong loved him without reservation, without hesitation.

But the real Hongjoong?

Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. The real Hongjoong was warm and kind, yes, but his love was scattered. It belonged to everyone around him, shared so freely and openly that Seonghwa sometimes wondered if there was even a part of it that was just for him.

And yet, no matter how much he tried to tell himself it didn't matter, he couldn't stop wishing.

His chest heaved as another sob threatened to escape. He bit his lip, desperate to keep the sound from spilling out into the empty room. It felt pathetic—crying over something that was never his to begin with.

But the pain didn't care about reason or logic. It consumed him, wrapping around his heart and squeezing until all he could feel was the void where his longing for Hongjoong would forever remain unanswered.

Hongjoong sat hunched over his desk in the dim glow of his studio, the only light coming from the scattered monitors and the warm golden hue of the lamp on his table. His pen scratched against the notebook as he worked through another line of lyrics, the rhythm playing faintly in the background. Suddenly, he sneezed loudly, jolting his hand and smudging the ink.

"Who in heaven's dove is thinking about me right now?" he muttered, rubbing his nose and laughing softly to himself.

He shook his head, returning his focus to the page in front of him. It wasn't just any song he was working on. It was for Seonghwa.

His best friend's birthday was coming up soon, and Hongjoong wanted to make it special. Not just a gift, but something meaningful. A song, maybe one they could perform together. Seonghwa had always been passionate about the idea of a unit song, especially if it was something rock-inspired, like Evanescence or Måneskin. Hongjoong could almost hear the excitement in his voice when they'd talked about it before, the way his eyes had lit up with that familiar earnestness that always made Hongjoong want to give him the world.

As he tapped the pen against his notebook, his thoughts drifted. San had teased him about this earlier—about how especially he treated Seonghwa.

"You're so obvious, hyung," San had said with a grin that bordered on smug. "If Atinys knew how much of your time and energy is devoted to Seonghwa hyung, they'd riot."

Hongjoong had laughed it off at the time, brushing it aside like it was nothing. But deep down, he knew San wasn't entirely wrong.

Seonghwa was his muse more often than not. His calm in the chaos, his inspiration when the world felt overwhelming. Hongjoong wouldn't deny that Seonghwa had a way of grounding him, of being the steady presence he leaned on when things got tough. It wasn't just that Seonghwa was his best friend; he was his confidant, his right hand, the person who instinctively knew what Hongjoong needed before he even had to say it.

"Seonghwa deserves the best," Hongjoong whispered under his breath as he scribbled down another lyric. The words didn't flow as easily as he wanted, but he kept going, pushing through the mental block. He wanted this song to be perfect—not just because it was for Seonghwa, but because Seonghwa was perfect.

He didn't allow himself to dwell too long on the deeper implications of those thoughts. It wasn't the first time his mind had wandered down that path, but he'd always stopped himself before he could go too far.

Instead, he focused on the task at hand, pouring every ounce of his feelings into the music. If there was one thing Hongjoong couldn't bear to think about, it was life without Seonghwa.

That would be hell. A nightmare he refused to entertain.

A soft knock at the door pulled Hongjoong out of his creative haze. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, before looking up to see Maddox standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an exasperated expression plastered on his face.

"Eden Hyung wants the studio for the night," Maddox said, his tone of annoyance .

"Can you stop terrorizing this poor room and go sleep for once? You've been holed up in here for, what, seventeen hours? Go home to your wife and kids, oh god."

Hongjoong stared at him for a moment, caught between guilt and amusement. Maddox wasn't wrong—he had lost track of time somewhere in the middle of tweaking the chorus. But the part about a wife and kids? That made him stifle a laugh.

"Wife and kids, huh?" Hongjoong repeated, his lips quirking up in a grin.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about," Maddox shot back, rolling his eyes. "Seonghwa and the others, obviously. And don't act like you haven't heard people calling Seonghwa your wife before. It's basically common knowledge at this point."

Hongjoong tried—and failed—to hold back a giggle. People had been making that joke for years, and every time it came up, it never failed to fluster him. Not that he minded, really. If Seonghwa was the one they paired him with, he couldn't exactly complain.

"He'd probably kill me if he heard you say that," Hongjoong said, shaking his head.

"Please, he'd just roll his eyes and start cleaning up after you like the doting husband he is," Maddox retorted with a teasing smirk. "Now pack up and go home. You look like you're about to collapse, and I don't want to be the one explaining to Seonghwa why you're passed out on the floor."

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced at the scattered papers and notebooks covering the desk, the half-finished lyrics staring back at him. He didn't want to stop—not when he was so close to getting it right.

But the thought of Seonghwa nagging at him for overworking again made him smile. His members, especially Seonghwa, always took care of him in ways he didn't even realize he needed. And if he were honest with himself, he liked the idea of going back to their shared space, hearing Seonghwa's quiet voice as he told him off for staying up too late.

"Alright, alright," Hongjoong said, standing up and stretching with a groan. "Tell Eden hyung he can have the studio. But if he touches my notebooks, I'm coming back for him."

"Deal," Maddox said with a grin, stepping aside to let Hongjoong gather his things.

As Hongjoong grabbed his bag and made his way out, he couldn't shake the warm feeling spreading through his chest. Maybe the world teased him about Seonghwa being his "wife," but deep down, he knew there was no one else he'd rather come home to—whether they called it that or not.

If there was one word Hongjoong would use to describe Seonghwa, it would be the dove from Bernini's Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi. From a distance, it might seem like nothing more than an annoying pigeon—stationary, unremarkable, and always lingering in the same spot. But the moment you step closer, you realize there's so much more to it. Up close, the dove isn't just a simple bird; it's a meticulously sculpted bronze figure, eternally fixed in its place on the fountain. The intricate detailing, the sense of calm it exudes despite its apparent stillness—it all becomes apparent when you look beyond the surface.

Seonghwa was like that. At first glance, he might have seemed quiet, almost distant, and certainly not someone who would leave a lasting impression. But once you paid closer attention, you saw the depth in his actions, the subtleties in the way he cared for those around him, the way his presence had an unspoken but undeniable pull. His stillness, much like the dove, wasn't a sign of emptiness—it was a reflection of something far more profound, a peace that radiated even in the most chaotic moments.

Hongjoong found himself captivated by that quiet grace, even if it meant silently admiring him from afar, like the distant onlookers who never quite realized the beauty of the dove until they took a closer look.

Hongjoong didn't even realize how he had gotten home. His feet seemed to know the way, guiding him toward the familiar entrance of the apartment he shared with San and Seonghwa. The comforting scent of home enveloped him as he pushed the door open, stepping into the quiet warmth of their space. He let out a small sigh of relief—it was late, but being here, surrounded by the people he cared about, always had a way of grounding him.

They each had their own rooms, of course, but Hongjoong had always loved sharing a space with Seonghwa. There was something about it—something so inherently peaceful. It felt natural. As he walked through the apartment, he made his way to the kitchen first, his hand instinctively reaching for a glass. He drank deeply, the cool water refreshing him after the long day of working in the studio.

He then wandered to his own room, where he shed his clothes, slipping into the comfort of his pajamas. Despite the exhaustion weighing on him, there was something about being here, in this apartment, that always made him feel at ease. But his night wasn't quite complete yet. Without thinking, his feet carried him toward Seonghwa's room, a soft, almost reverent smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he approached the door.

He hesitated for just a moment, hand resting on the doorknob. The air felt heavier in this space—Seonghwa's presence was unmistakable even when the room was empty. Then, with a gentle push, he cracked the door open, careful not to disturb the quiet. Inside, the soft glow of a nightlight illuminated the room just enough to reveal the familiar comfort of Seonghwa's world: the neat arrangement of books on the nightstand, the soft hum of the air conditioning, the faint scent of lavender that always lingered around him.

Hongjoong stood there for a moment, just watching the peaceful stillness of it all, his heart easing at the sight of his best friend's space. He didn't need to say anything, didn't need to do anything. Just being there, in this familiar place, felt like home.

Hongjoong stepped closer to the bed, his gaze drawn to the soft light still emanating from the lamp. His eyes caught a small, unfinished Lego rose resting on the blanket, a sight that made his brow furrow in confusion. Seonghwa never left his Lego sets unfinished—he was always meticulous, always made sure to finish each one with precision. The incomplete rose felt out of place, and a strange sense of unease began to stir in Hongjoong's chest.

He shook the thoughts aside, deciding it was nothing. Perhaps Seonghwa had simply gotten tired or distracted. But as he climbed into the bed, he was immediately enveloped in the warmth of Seonghwa's blanket, a warmth that felt more intense than usual. It wasn't just comforting—it was almost too warm, too heavy. His frown deepened, and he instinctively reached for Seonghwa, inching closer to check on him.

When his hand brushed against Seonghwa's arm, he felt the heat radiating from his skin. His heart skipped a beat as he carefully ran his fingers over Seonghwa's forehead, feeling the unmistakable signs of a fever. His skin was warm and clammy to the touch, his body trembling slightly beneath the covers.

Hongjoong's frown deepened as he noticed the subtle signs of distress on Seonghwa's face. Tears clung to his eyelashes, faint but visible in the dim light, and the corners of his eyes were red and irritated. His nose was snotty, the faint remnants of a cold or illness he hadn't mentioned before. Seonghwa's breathing was shallow, a little ragged as he lay there, oblivious to Hongjoong's presence.

A rush of panic surged through Hongjoong, the sudden realization hitting him like a wave. Seonghwa was running a fever. He quickly checked his pulse, relieved to find it steady but faster than usual. Yet, the sight of his best friend lying so vulnerable, unguarded and weak, made his heart ache.

"Seonghwa..." Hongjoong whispered, his voice barely audible. He carefully pulled the blanket back, scooting closer to Seonghwa's side. His hands, usually steady and confident, trembled slightly as he brushed a strand of hair away from Seonghwa's face, his heart heavy with worry.

"Hyung, you should've told me," Hongjoong murmured, his voice laced with a mix of concern and frustration. But he didn't want to wake him just yet. Seonghwa looked peaceful despite the fever, a vulnerability that Hongjoong rarely saw in him. He wanted to protect him from this, to take away the ache in Seonghwa's body.

Hongjoong quietly slipped out of Seonghwa's bed, careful not to disturb the warmth of his sleeping figure. He felt the weight of concern settle in his chest as he walked toward San's room. He knocked softly on the door, his knuckles making a faint sound against the wood. A groan came from inside, followed by the sound of shifting blankets.

San's face appeared in the doorway moments later, his messy hair falling into his eyes, and his pyjamas hanging loose on his frame. One hand was holding a phone, clearly still in the middle of a call, his screen displaying Wooyoung's amused face. His expression flickered with irritation, but his eyes softened when he saw Hongjoong standing there, looking more serious than usual.

"It better be worth it to interrupt my video call with Wooyoung," San muttered, rubbing his eyes as he stood up, stretching his arms in an exaggerated motion.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, a faint smirk curling the corner of his lips. "Well, you could have just roomed with Wooyoung if you were so eager to be around him," he retorted, his voice light but laced with an undertone of frustration.

San shrugged nonchalantly, the phone still clutched in one hand, though he had stopped looking at it. He leaned against the doorframe with a playful, lazy grin. "I love Seonghwa hyung more," he said simply, his tone filled with affection, the words almost like a warm confession.

Hongjoong paused for a moment, blinking at San in surprise. It wasn't that he didn't know how close the two were—he'd seen it countless times before, the easy camaraderie between them, the quiet moments of connection. But hearing San say it so openly, so casually, made a small pang twist in his chest.

His gaze softened, but he quickly masked it with a slight cough.

"Well, you'll love him a lot more if you help me out," Hongjoong said, straightening himself up, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that had surfaced.

"Seonghwa got a fever. He's really sick."

San's playful expression faded immediately, replaced by a look of genuine concern. His eyes widened as he quickly pushed the door open wider, stepping aside to let Hongjoong in. "What? Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" he asked, his voice suddenly more serious as he followed Hongjoong back toward Seonghwa's room.

Hongjoong let out a breath, his own worry increasing as he returned to the room. "I didn't want to bother you—he was already asleep. I just... didn't know what to do," he admitted, his voice soft but laden with the weight of his care for Seonghwa.

San didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on Seonghwa's figure, still nestled under the warmth of his blankets. The soft glow of the bedside lamp flickered over Seonghwa's tired face, his brow furrowed in a feverish sleep. San's expression shifted, his playful demeanor now replaced with quiet resolve.

"I'm going to grab some medicine and water," San said, his voice low and steady. "Stay with him. Don't let him wake up alone."

Hongjoong nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over him at San's immediate response. There was no question in San's voice, no hesitation. He knew exactly what to do. As San rushed out, Hongjoong moved closer to Seonghwa, his fingers brushing over the sick man's forehead, the heat radiating from him making Hongjoong's chest tighten with worry.

When San returned, his arms were loaded with medicines and a glass of water. But Hongjoong's brow furrowed as he noticed the absence of food.

"Did he eat dinner?" Hongjoong asked, his voice carrying an edge of concern. His eyes were locked on the medicine San was about to administer, and something about the situation didn't sit right. "You know you can't give him medicine without food in his stomach."

San paused for a moment, looking down at the collection of pills in his hand, then back at Hongjoong with a thoughtful frown. "Shit, I didn't think of that." His eyes darted around the room as if looking for a solution. Then, his gaze landed on the empty countertop in the corner of the room.

"I'll make him some ramen," San said, a plan forming in his mind.

"You wake him up and keep him busy. Don't let him doze off while he's half awake. He's stubborn, and if he gets too comfortable, he'll sleep through everything."

Hongjoong gave a quick nod, already heading back to Seonghwa's bedside. He leaned down, gently brushing Seonghwa's damp bangs from his forehead, his own fingers trembling slightly from the closeness. "Seonghwa," he whispered softly, the warmth of his breath mixing with Seonghwa's heated skin. "Hey, Hwa, wake up for me. You need to eat something before you take your medicine."

Seonghwa stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open. His expression was blurry, his gaze hazy from the fever. Hongjoong's heart clenched at the sight of him so vulnerable.

"You need to eat," Hongjoong repeated, his voice softer now, coaxing. "San's making you ramen. Just stay awake for a little while, okay?"

Seonghwa blinked slowly, his eyes heavy as if fighting the pull of sleep. His lips parted slightly, but the words came out as little more than a faint murmur. "Ramen?" he asked, his gaze unfocused, his voice barely audible. His eyes fluttered closed again, drifting back into the haze of feverish slumber.

Hongjoong's hand instinctively reached out, gently cupping Seonghwa's warm cheek, guiding his face back toward him. He leaned in, his voice soft but firm. "Yes, ramen. You're not getting this medicine without something in your stomach," Hongjoong said, the tenderness in his tone betraying the concern swirling in his chest. "So, you're going to stay awake until San brings it."

Seonghwa mumbled something that resembled a hum of agreement, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he snuggled deeper into the blankets. "Yumm," he murmured before his body relaxed again, drifting back into a doze.

Hongjoong let out a quiet breath, relieved that Seonghwa had responded at least a little. But just as he started to sit back, ready to let Seonghwa rest, the feverish figure stirred again, his brow furrowing slightly as his eyes snapped open.

"Wait—why am I being given medicine?" Seonghwa's voice cracked with panic, his eyes wide with sudden clarity. His hand shot out from the blankets, fumbling in a rush to grab something from the nightstand. But before Hongjoong could say anything, Seonghwa's fingers closed around his tablet, quickly trying to hide it from view, though it was already closed. His breath quickened slightly, anxiety creeping into his voice.

"And Hongjoong, how are you here? What's going on?"

Hongjoong's heart skipped at the sudden shift in Seonghwa's demeanor, the once-dazed feverish haze giving way to a panicked awareness. Seonghwa looked—lost, even—and the sight of him trying to hide the tablet only made Hongjoong's concern deepen.

"Hey, it's okay," Hongjoong said softly, his voice a comforting balm as he moved closer, his hand reaching for Seonghwa's in a gentle but steady grip. "You're sick, hyung. You're running a fever, so San and I are just making sure you're okay. You're not in trouble."

Seonghwa blinked at him, still looking a little confused, his eyes darting to the tablet in his hand, then back to Hongjoong. "But... the tablet?" His voice was quieter now, a flicker of embarrassment creeping in. "I wasn't... I wasn't doing anything bad, was I?"

Hongjoong could sense the unease in Seonghwa's voice, the way his hands tightened around the device. It was clear Seonghwa didn't want anyone to know what he had been doing, his face flushed with a mixture of confusion and guilt. Hongjoong's heart ached seeing him like this—, self-conscious, and unwell.

"Hey, Hwaie," Hongjoong said softly, shifting closer to Seonghwa's bedside. His hand gently cupped Seonghwa's cheek, his thumb brushing over the feverish skin. "What's the matter with you?"

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of blankets and the faint hum of the night, but the moment the words left Hongjoong's lips, Seonghwa's entire body seemed to stiffen. For a second, the younger man thought Seonghwa might pull away, but instead, his lips trembled. His eyes, clouded with the heaviness of his fever, filled with something else—a deep, unspoken sorrow.

Before Hongjoong could even register the shift, Seonghwa's breath hitched, and the tears he'd been holding back broke free. The sob that escaped him was raw, desperate, and caught Hongjoong completely off-guard.

Seonghwa's chest rose and fell erratically, each breath shaking as he tried to hold it together, but the floodgates had opened. His lips parted, a few silent gasps escaping before he finally spoke, his voice quivering with a mix of frustration and helplessness.

"Nothing is the matter with me..." he whispered, as though trying to convince both Hongjoong and himself, but the cracks in his voice betrayed him. The attempt to mask his vulnerability only made it more obvious, and Hongjoong's heart ached at the sight of him—so strong, yet in this moment, completely undone.

Hongjoong didn't know what to do at first. His fingers gently wiped away the tears that trailed down Seonghwa's flushed cheeks, his thumb caressing the soft skin as he met his eyes, searching for something—anything—that could help him understand.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong murmured, his voice low and steady, like a gentle anchor in the storm. He leaned in closer, keeping his tone soft yet firm, wanting to make sure Seonghwa knew he was there, truly there, for whatever came next. "You don't have to lie to me. It's okay to let it out."

Seonghwa's gaze dropped immediately, the weight of Hongjoong's words pressing down on him, and he turned his face away slightly, trying to hide from the vulnerability that seemed to rise like a tide within him. His body trembled with the effort of keeping it all together, and he let out a shaky breath, his chest tight. He wanted to speak, to explain everything that was suffocating him, but the words seemed to get tangled in his throat.

He stared at the blankets, avoiding Hongjoong's gaze, but still, he didn't pull away from the comforting touch on his cheek.

There was a long silence before Seonghwa finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking with uncertainty.

"Can you please not sleep with me today? Let Sannie care for me, please... you look tired."

The words hit Hongjoong harder than he expected, and his breath caught for a moment. He frowned, a flicker of confusion passing across his face. "I'm not tired, Hwa," he replied gently, reaching out, his thumb still brushing against Seonghwa's flushed cheek. "I want to be here for you, to help. You don't have to push me away."

But before Hongjoong could say more, Seonghwa interrupted, his voice more insistent now, as if it had become something urgent, something beyond his control. "Please... I don't want you here."

Seonghwa's words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Hongjoong blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in Seonghwa's voice. It wasn't harsh, but it was final, like a wall had suddenly risen between them. His heart twisted, the rawness in Seonghwa's plea cutting deeper than he could have anticipated.

Seonghwa turned further into the blankets, his body curling in on itself, as if trying to make himself smaller, as if the weight of his own emotions was too much to bear under Hongjoong's gaze. Hongjoong stayed quiet for a moment, letting the silence stretch between them.

His chest tightened, and a knot formed in his throat, but Hongjoong understood—he understood that sometimes, even the people we trust the most need space, need to be allowed to go through things alone.

Taking a deep breath, Hongjoong let his hand fall from Seonghwa's face, his fingers lingering for just a second longer before pulling away. "Alright," he said softly, his voice steady, though there was a small ache that lingered beneath the surface. "I'll let you rest, Hwa. But I'm right here, okay? Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

He stood up slowly, his heart heavy with the unspoken words between them. He glanced back at Seonghwa one last time, watching the older man's form curled into the warmth of the blankets, his back to him now.

Hongjoong stood still in the hallway for a moment, his hand still on the door handle, as the weight of Seonghwa's words sank deep into him. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness, like there was something more he should have done, something he could have said to make Seonghwa feel safe, feel okay. The soft thud of his heart echoed in his chest as his mind swirled with the question that had no answer:

What could I have possibly done to make Seonghwa so...... afraid of me?

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the ache in his chest lingered, gnawing at him. The uncertainty gnawed at his insides—had he done something wrong? Was it the way he'd been too persistent, too overbearing, or had something else caused Seonghwa to pull away like that? Hongjoong couldn't help but feel as if a piece of their bond had cracked, and he didn't know how to fix it.

As he walked down the hallway, his thoughts heavy and clouded, the faint sound of footsteps behind him broke his trance. He turned, and San was standing there, his brow furrowed as he glanced between Hongjoong and the door to Seonghwa's room.

San raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as he observed Hongjoong's expression. He could have sworn there was a faint shimmer in Hongjoong's eyes, something like unshed tears—something vulnerable that didn't usually reside in the man who always seemed so in control. But instead of pressing him, San chose to focus on the more pressing matter at hand.

Seonghwa was his priority right now.

With a quiet exhale, San stepped past Hongjoong, entering Seonghwa's room without waiting for a reply. He had come prepared, bringing the warm ramen, medicine, and water, knowing the older man would need all of it. He carefully set everything down on the bedside table, making sure the warm steam from the ramen filled the room, its comforting scent mingling with the air.

San glanced over at Seonghwa, who was still curled up in the blankets, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and discomfort. The sight of Seonghwa so small, so vulnerable, made San's heart ache. He had known Seonghwa for so long, and to see him like this... it was a stark reminder of how fragile they all were, how even the strongest among them needed someone to lean on.

"hyung, hey," San said gently, crouching down beside the bed, his voice soft but insistent. He didn't want to wake him too harshly, but he needed to make sure Seonghwa ate. "I brought you some ramen, and the meds. You need to take them so you can feel better, okay?"

Seonghwa stirred slightly, his eyes flickering open just enough to see San's face before his gaze dropped, as if trying to hide how weak he felt in that moment. There was a faint wince of discomfort as he shifted, the weight of the situation still heavy in his mind.

"...Ramen?" Seonghwa murmured, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," San said with a small, reassuring smile. "Ramen. It'll help. You've gotta eat something, Hwa."

Seonghwa seemed to consider it for a moment, but he was still too lost in his thoughts to truly focus on the food. His eyes were glazed, distant, as if his mind was elsewhere—somewhere darker, somewhere he didn't want to be. San noticed it, but he didn't press. He simply moved the ramen closer and took the water, offering it gently to Seonghwa.

San carefully raised the chopsticks, a small portion of ramen balanced delicately between them. He blew on it to cool it slightly before offering it to Seonghwa, who still looked fragile, caught somewhere between exhaustion and the storm of emotions swirling within him. Seonghwa hesitated for a moment, his tired eyes flickering between the food and San's concerned face.

"Did something happen?" San asked softly, his voice low and gentle, trying to reach Seonghwa without pushing too hard. There was something in the way Seonghwa had been acting all day—something that didn't sit right with him.

Seonghwa blinked at San, and for a moment, it seemed like he would try to brush it off. But then, as the warm bite of ramen touched his lips, something inside him seemed to snap. The comfort of the food, the warmth of San's presence, the quiet care—it all overwhelmed him. Seonghwa's face crumpled, and before he could stop himself, tears spilled down his cheeks in a torrent. His sobs came in jagged gasps, raw and unrestrained, as if the dam had finally broken and there was nothing left to hold back.

San froze for a moment, stunned by the intensity of Seonghwa's reaction. He quickly placed the ramen bowl aside, his concern shifting to the older man in an instant. Seonghwa's crying only grew louder, more desperate, as he pressed his hands to his face in an attempt to stop the tears, but it was no use. His snot was dripping, his cheeks flushed, and the sobs wracked his body. He looked utterly heartbroken.

San's eyes softened, a mixture of empathy and helplessness welling up inside him. The scene before him was so far from what Seonghwa usually was—strong, composed, the person everyone turned to for support. To see him so utterly broken felt like a punch to the gut. But even in this vulnerable state, San couldn't help but try to lighten the atmosphere, if only to give Seonghwa a moment of reprieve.

"Don't make the ramen more salty," San said with a teasing grin, despite the tightening in his chest. He reached over and gently patted Seonghwa on the back, though he had to fight not to grimace at the sight of the snot and tears, now mixed with a little bit of saliva dripping down the older man's chin. It was messy, raw, and very human.

For a moment, there was silence, save for Seonghwa's shaky breath and the quiet sniffling. Then, in a completely unexpected moment, Seonghwa pulled back from his hands, his face red and blotchy, but the tears hadn't stopped yet. He let out a small, broken laugh, catching his breath as he wiped at his nose.

San gave a soft chuckle, reaching for the napkins on the bedside table to hand Seonghwa. "You've got a bit of a nose situation there, hyung," he said, his voice low but still carrying a hint of humor.

Seonghwa took the napkin, pressing it to his nose, his laugh breaking into another round of sniffles. He quickly wiped his face, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but his gaze stayed low, too embarrassed to look at San for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Seonghwa whispered, his voice still shaky. "I didn't mean to... cry like this."

San shook his head, a kind smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You don't need to apologize for being human, Hwa," he said, his tone firm but affectionate. "You're allowed to feel. Just let it out. We'll get through it together."

Seonghwa didn't respond right away. He simply sat there, his body trembling, his head low as he let himself feel the weight of the emotions that had clearly been building inside him. Eventually, after the storm of tears had subsided a little, he looked up at San, his eyes a little clearer but still clouded with sadness.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice softer now, but the sincerity was there, woven into the way he held San's gaze.

San, still perched on the edge of the bed, gave Seonghwa a long, understanding look, his expression softened with concern. He wasn't entirely sure how to approach this—he had been used to Seonghwa being the strong, composed one, the rock for everyone around him. To see him so broken, so vulnerable, made San's heart ache. But it also opened a door, and it was clear Seonghwa wasn't going to close it just yet.

"Now tell me what happened," San asked gently, his voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of empathy. He needed to understand, to know what had shaken Seonghwa so deeply, to know how to help him pull through this.

Seonghwa let out a small, almost resigned breath, his fingers tracing absent patterns along the blanket as he avoided San's gaze for a moment. The room fell into an odd quiet, only the soft sounds of Seonghwa's breathing breaking it, as though he were carefully selecting his words.

"I guess... I just realized I'm utterly in love with Kim Hongjoong," Seonghwa said with a quiet shrug, the words coming out in a mix of finality and hesitation, as though admitting them aloud was a challenge of its own. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the weight of the confession pressing down on him, his shoulders sagging slightly under the revelation.

San blinked, his mind catching up with the unexpected turn of Seonghwa's confession. He had known there was something between the two of them, some kind of bond, but to hear Seonghwa put it into those words left him momentarily stunned. Hongjoong? The same Hongjoong who was often distant, playful, and wrapped up in his own chaotic life? The same Hongjoong who had always seemed to exist in his own world, barely paying attention to Seonghwa in any deep emotional way?

"Oh," San said, his voice a little quieter now, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. He had expected at least one of them to eventually fall in love—it was almost inevitable, the way they were always together, the way they understood each other without even needing to speak.

But Seonghwa? San hadn't anticipated that. He'd always thought it was Hongjoong who would be the first to fall, the one to acknowledge his feelings, but apparently, he was wrong.

Seonghwa caught the pause, the tone of San's response, and for a second, his eyes narrowed in slight embarrassment. But San didn't seem to be mocking him—if anything, it was more like he was digesting the truth, trying to comprehend it.

"I wasn't expecting that from you either," San continued, settling down beside Seonghwa, trying to lighten the air a little. "You've always been the one to keep things under wraps, Hwa. You never really showed anyone your heart like this before."

Seonghwa let out a small laugh, though it was tinged with bitterness. "I've kept a lot hidden. A lot of things I never said because... because I couldn't. It's complicated, you know? He's not the easiest person to figure out, and I... I don't even know how to handle it."

He let out a long, shaky breath, his fingers still grasping the edge of the blanket. "I just... I can't seem to get him out of my head. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to distract myself, he's always there. And I'm terrified, San. What if he doesn't feel the same? What if this... all of this just ruins everything?"

"I'm going to give you a really stupid piece of advice—one that Wooyoung would probably smack me for—but what do you think of ignoring Hongjoong-hyung for a little while?" San said, leaning back casually. "See if he misses your existence like a starved man. As they say, disfance is the best way to understand your feelings."

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, San's suggestion sinking in as he processed it. It wasn't something he'd expected to hear, and while it sounded ridiculous, it carried a strange sort of logic. A small chuckle escaped his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, still clouded with uncertainty.

"Wait, hold on," Seonghwa said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you actually suggesting I play hard to get? Is that what you're telling me right now?"

San shrugged nonchalantly, his lips quirking into a smirk. "Not hard to get, per se. Just... give him some room to notice what he's been taking for granted. Distance has a way of making people realize what they truly feel. Hongjoong is so wrapped up in his own world that he probably hasn't even stopped to consider how much you mean to him."

Seonghwa gave San a skeptical look. "And you think that'll work? That he'll actually notice?" His heart wavered between hope and the fear of setting himself up for disappointment.

San's smirk softened into something more genuine, his gaze steady. "I'm not saying it's a magic trick, but yeah, I think he will. Hongjoong's pansexual, Seonghwa. He's not going to care about labels or appearances—if you're the one he's meant to be with, he'll figure it out. You've been there for him in ways no one else has. He's not oblivious to that."

Seonghwa felt a lump form in his throat, emotions he'd tried so hard to bury threatening to surface. For so long, he had convinced himself that Hongjoong could never reciprocate his feelings. Hearing San's words, though, sparked a small flicker of hope—a fragile ember he didn't dare fan too quickly.

"So, you really think space will help?" Seonghwa asked, his voice quieter now, tinged with cautious curiosity.

San shrugged, the playful grin returning. "Maybe. But it's not about playing games. It's about you, too. You've been so caught up in taking care of him, always being there, that maybe it's time to take a step back and focus on yourself. If he feels the same, he'll notice your absence. If not, at least you'll have clarity."

Seonghwa considered that, the tension in his chest loosening slightly. "And what if he doesn't miss me? What if it backfires?"

San rolled his eyes dramatically. "God, Hwa, you're such a pessimist. Fine, here's the worst-case scenario: he doesn't miss you. You'll survive, and you'll know where you stand. But honestly? Hongjoong's not an idiot. He'll notice—eventually. Just don't expect him to figure it out overnight. You know how he is—thick-headed as hell when it comes to emotions."

That earned a genuine laugh from Seonghwa, the sound breaking through his lingering doubt. "Yeah, you're right about that. He can be completely oblivious sometimes."

San leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Then give it a shot. What's the harm? And, hey, worst case, you'll have a little peace and quiet for a change."

Seonghwa was about to thank San for his advice when a thought popped into his head—a thought so absurd it made him cringe internally. Before he could stop himself, the words spilled out:

"What if he tries to hook up with someone who looks like me because he realizes he can't have me?"

San froze, blinking at Seonghwa as if he'd just grown a second head. "What the actual hell, Seonghwa?" he managed, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "What are you even talking about?"

Seonghwa's cheeks flushed red as he shrugged, his grin sheepish. "I mean, it's not impossible, right? What if he just... substitutes me with someone else who looks like me?"

San stared at him, dumbfounded, before bursting into laughter. "You've got to be kidding me. Did you seriously just come up with that scenario? What are you doing, reading fanfictions about yourself or something?"

Seonghwa winced, averting his gaze. "I mean... kind of. And, uh, I might've seen a story like that once."

San nearly fell off his seat, clutching his stomach as he laughed even harder. "Oh my god, you actually read them! I knew it! This explains so much."

"Shut up!" Seonghwa snapped, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "You're the one who put these ridiculous ideas in my head!"

San wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, his laughter subsiding into a wide grin. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. But seriously, Hwa, fanfiction is fiction. Hongjoong isn't going to go chasing after some look-alike. He's not that kind of guy, and you're not some cliché character in a melodrama. Give him some credit—and give yourself some, too."

Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know... sometimes it's hard not to overthink everything. I just... I feel like I'm too complicated for him. Like, what if I'm too much?"

San's expression softened, the teasing gone. "You're not too much, Seonghwa. You're just enough. If Hongjoong's the right person for you, he'll see that. And if he doesn't? Well, that's his loss, not yours."

For the first time in days, Seonghwa felt a small weight lift off his shoulders. "Thanks, San," he said quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

San grinned, giving him a playful nudge. "Anytime. Now stop reading fanfiction about yourself, okay? It's messing with your head."

Seonghwa chuckled, the tension in his chest easing just a little. Maybe San was right—maybe it was time to trust himself and see where things would lead.

The next few days passed in a haze of tissues, medicine, and restless naps for Seonghwa. With no schedules to keep him busy, he focused all his energy on recovering from the fever that had stubbornly taken hold. His birthday was next week, and there was no way he was going to let a fever ruin his one day of the year. If anything, he wanted to show up looking radiant, the picture of health, because Seonghwa refused to settle for anything less than perfection—especially on his day.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong spiraled deeper into what could only be described as an unhinged creative breakdown. Seonghwa's absence—or rather, his deliberate cold shoulder—gnawed at him in ways he couldn't articulate. He'd tried brushing it off at first, chalking it up to Seonghwa being tired or busy, but days had passed, and the radio silence felt deliberate. It wasn't like Seonghwa to ignore him, not him. Hongjoong felt a burning frustration every time his messages were left on read or unanswered.

His only solace was his studio, though even that wasn't much of a safe space anymore. His gift for Seonghwa—a song he had painstakingly crafted to capture everything he couldn't put into words—started to take a darker turn. It was supposed to be hopeful, maybe even romantic in a way that would make Seonghwa smile (and maybe, just maybe, realize how much Hongjoong actually cared).

Instead, the melody became drenched in melancholy. The lyrics grew raw, unfiltered, dripping with the kind of pain that made Hongjoong's chest ache. Each line felt like a confession, and every chord hit like a wound reopening. By the time Eden came by to check on his progress, the song was so heart-wrenching that even Eden—Eden of all people, the human embodiment of stoic disinterest—was visibly moved. Rumor had it, the man might've even shed a tear.

Was it the song? Or maybe it was Eden thinking about his own loveless marriage, the wife he hardly saw because he spent all his time holed up in this very studio. Either way, it wasn't important. Eden wasn't the focus here, and no one had time to dive into his tragic backstory.

The real issue was Hongjoong, who was steadily unraveling as the days stretched on. The longer Seonghwa avoided him, the more his thoughts spiraled, turning self-doubt into self-sabotage. Every note he added to the song felt like it wasn't enough—too raw, too vulnerable, not vulnerable enough. He was drowning in a sea of second guesses, and all of it came back to one question: Why was Seonghwa ignoring him?

Hongjoong hated this feeling, this lack of control. He hated how much space Seonghwa took up in his head, how much of his energy was devoted to trying to understand what he had done wrong. Because surely, surely, he had done something. Why else would Seonghwa be pulling away?

And so, with every passing day, Hongjoong poured himself further into the song, chasing an impossible perfection that he hoped might bridge the growing gap between them. Or, at the very least, distract him from the gnawing emptiness Seonghwa's absence had left behind.

The song finished earlier than expected, it was named,

"my best friend"(tottally not inspired by Selfish waltz)

"My Best Friend" (Verse 1) I watched you fade into the background, Your footsteps growing faint, unheard. You're standing there, so close, so distant,(why you acting like that) Your silence screaming louder than words.(Why is it so aggressive) (Pre-Chorus) Do I miss you, or the ghost you've left behind? Your laughter feels like shards I can't unwind. If this is friendship, why does it ache like sin? I'm losing battles I don't know how to win. (Chorus) Oh, my best friend, why do you disappear? A shadow in my heart, but you're not near. I'm calling out, but my voice won't reach, A love I can't name, a bond out of reach. Oh, my best friend, do you feel it too? Or am I just selfish for needing you? (Verse 2) I hold your name like a secret prayer, Afraid the world will take it away. You're my anchor and my tidal wave, Pulling me closer, pushing me astray. (Pre-Chorus) Do I love you, or the safety you provide? The calm in your storm, the fire in your stride. If this is friendship, why does it burn like flame? A yearning I can't tame, a feeling with no name. (Chorus) Oh, my best friend, why do you disappear? A shadow in my heart, but you're not near. I'm calling out, but my voice won't reach, A love I can't name, a bond out of reach. Oh, my best friend, do you feel it too? Or am I just selfish for needing you? (Bridge) They say love is clarity, but you're a haze, A mirror reflecting all my darkest days. I see you, but you're slipping through my hands, Like grains of time I can't understand. (Final Chorus) Oh, my best friend, why do you disappear? A shadow in my heart, but you're not near. I'm screaming now, but it's lost in the air, This friendship's a burden I can't bear. Oh, my best friend, I wish I knew, Is this love, or am I just selfish for needing you? (Outro) The song ends, but the ache remains, A melody tangled in love and pain. Blinded by selfishness As if we never loved eachother Even though we know we'll regret it Yeah,we know

Maddox stared at the lyrics sheet, his mouth agape as if he had just witnessed a revelation of biblical proportions. The words scrawled on the page were raw, bleeding emotion, and as he read them over again, he couldn't help but feel the weight of every syllable. Suddenly, the rumors of Eden crying in the studio didn't seem so far-fetched anymore.

"Kim Hongjoong..." Maddox began, his voice filled with both astonishment and disbelief. He looked up at the younger man, pointing an accusatory finger at the lyrics. "Did you lose your best friend or a century-old lover? Oh my God, you're in love with him!"

Hongjoong nearly choked on the sip of water he'd just taken, coughing as he turned to Maddox with a horrified expression.

"I'm not! Ew, hyung, he's my best friend," he retorted, his tone sharp but laced with a defensive edge. He shot Maddox a pointed side-eye, as if daring him to push the matter further.

Maddox, however, wasn't about to let it go. He leaned forward, gripping the lyrics sheet dramatically as he gestured to the words with wild enthusiasm.

"Best friend? BEST FRIEND? Hongjoong, listen to yourself! These lyrics don't scream best friend, they scream I pine for him so much I might implode if he doesn't look at me in the next five minutes!" He threw the paper back onto the desk for emphasis, shaking his head in disbelief.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, brushing Maddox off with a wave of his hand. "You're reading way too much into this. I wrote this song because he's been ignoring me lately, okay? I was frustrated. That's all there is to it."

Maddox raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "Frustrated? Joong, this isn't frustration. This is Shakespearean tragedy-level longing. This is 'I watch the stars and hope he thinks of me' level nonsense. If you're trying to tell me you don't have feelings for him, then you're either lying to me or lying to yourself."

Hongjoong's lips tightened into a thin line as he turned back to his desk, busying himself with tidying up the scattered papers. "You're overthinking it," he muttered, refusing to meet Maddox's eyes.

"Overthinking it?" Maddox let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. "Do you even hear yourself? This is Selfish Waltz all over again, but worse because now you don't even realize you're the one waltzing alone."

Hongjoong froze for a moment, his hands halting mid-motion. Maddox watched as his shoulders stiffened, a subtle but telling reaction. The words had hit a nerve, but Hongjoong wasn't ready to admit it yet.

"Hyung," Hongjoong finally said, his voice low and measured. "I know what I'm feeling. And what I feel for Seonghwa is friendship. Nothing more."

Maddox let out an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Fine, deny it all you want. But don't come crying to me when you realize you've been writing love songs to your 'best friend' this whole time."

Hongjoong scoffed, grabbing the lyrics sheet and crumpling it in his hand. "It's not a love song," he muttered, though his voice wavered slightly.

Maddox watched him with a knowing smile, his head tilting as he leaned back in his chair. "If you say so, Joong. But for someone who claims to only see him as a friend, you sure write like he's your everything."

Hongjoong didn't respond. His gaze remained fixed on the crumpled paper in his hand, as though it held the answer to all the questions swirling in his mind. The words from Maddox echoed in his ears, but he was too tangled in his own thoughts to process them properly. His fingers absently twisted the paper, crumpling it tighter, as if trying to squeeze the meaning out of it.

This song—he had written it in a fit of frustration, hadn't he? At first, it was about Seonghwa, yes, but now, seeing it through Maddox's eyes, it felt... different. It felt like something more, something deeper. The lyrics seemed to resonate with a kind of longing, a yearning that didn't quite match the simplicity of friendship.

Hongjoong's mind wandered back to Selfish Waltz, the song that had been inspired by a toxic relationship, a love that was both consuming and suffocating. He had written it out of a place of pain, a place where he couldn't give anymore, where everything felt strained and twisted. Maybe that was why this new song felt like a natural progression—like it was drawing from the same well of emotion, only this time, the toxicity wasn't just a result of a bad relationship. It was something he had created, unknowingly, between himself and Seonghwa.

Could it be that he was caught in a cycle of yearning for something he couldn't admit? Hongjoong exhaled sharply, his mind whirling with the possibility. Was it really all that different from Selfish Waltz? A relationship marked by confusion, by an unspoken desire that he was too afraid to confront? Maybe this song, with all its aching lines, was just another way of pushing those feelings down, of dressing them up in metaphor and melody so that they didn't have to be addressed.

But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He had been writing this song for Seonghwa, the one person who always stood by him, who always understood him in a way no one else could. And yet, the more Hongjoong tried to convince himself that his feelings for Seonghwa were just friendship, the more the lyrics contradicted him. The words bled through the lines—his own voice crackling with emotion that he didn't know how to express.

"Maybe I am in love with him," Hongjoong whispered to himself, the thought hanging heavy in the air. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the knot forming in his chest. No. That wasn't possible. He couldn't be in love with Seonghwa. Could he?

With a frustrated sigh, he smoothed the crumpled paper back out and stared at the lyrics again. Each line was like a mirror, reflecting something he wasn't ready to see. And yet, it was staring him in the face, impossible to ignore.

"Come on, if I'm in love with him, that wouldn't possibly mean he reciprocates it..." Hongjoong muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper as his thoughts scrambled, trying to make sense of the storm raging in his mind. His eyes scanned the crumpled lyrics sheet in his hand again, but his brain had already shifted, reeling back to all the quiet moments shared between him and Seonghwa—the ones that, at the time, had seemed perfectly innocent.

His mind drifted to one instance in particular:

---

"Love you, Joongie."

The soft words echoed in his memory, followed by the warmth of Seonghwa's gentle kiss on his forehead. Hongjoong had been pretending to sleep, but that didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat. Seonghwa had always been affectionate, always offering those small gestures of care that Hongjoong had come to rely on. But this moment, this particular moment, felt different—like something unspoken hung in the air between them. Hongjoong had barely been able to keep his eyes closed as Seonghwa whispered those words, wondering if Seonghwa truly understood the weight of them, or if he was just being his usual, affectionate self.

---

Another memory hit him, one from not long ago:

"I don't think you should date yet..."

The unease in Seonghwa's voice had caught Hongjoong off guard, his fingers pausing on the love letter he'd just received from one of their sexy labelmates. It was an invitation, an offer he couldn't easily dismiss, but Seonghwa's expression—sad, almost pained—had stopped him from responding right away. The letter felt like a distant thought now. How could he even entertain the idea of dating anyone when Seonghwa, his best friend, was looking at him like that? As if his heart ached for Hongjoong to stay close, to stay grounded. Seonghwa never asked for anything outright, but Hongjoong couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeper in his words, something he hadn't yet dared to voice.

---

Then there was the time Seonghwa had practically burst into the room, beaming with excitement.

"Look, I got Ddeongbyeoli and Jjoongrami married!"

Seonghwa's infectious enthusiasm was hard to resist as he presented Hongjoong with their representative animals, each dressed in miniature wedding attire—one in a white bride dress, the other in a sharp tuxedo. Hongjoong couldn't help but laugh, his heart lightening at Seonghwa's innocent joy. But underneath the surface of Seonghwa's playful demeanor, Hongjoong saw something else—a longing in his eyes, an almost wistful look, as if he was imagining something beyond just the cute animals. Hongjoong had brushed it off as Seonghwa simply being Seonghwa, but the thought lingered.

---

Each of these moments played over in his mind like fragments of a dream, moments of closeness that felt ordinary, yet they were beginning to feel charged with something more. Hongjoong swallowed hard, turning away from the lyrics on the paper. He couldn't help but wonder: Had Seonghwa felt something more in those moments, too?

But then, Hongjoong quickly dismissed the thought. No. It couldn't be. Seonghwa was his best friend, his constant. The idea of anything more felt impossible. They were too close, too familiar. How could Seonghwa ever see him the way he was beginning to see him?

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, letting out a shaky breath. There were too many

"what ifs" swirling in his head, and no clear answers. Maybe he was just overthinking things. Maybe it was just a song. Maybe he should stop searching for meaning where there was none.

Hongjoong sat at his piano, the room around him bathed in the dim light of the late afternoon. He had been here for hours, the melody from the song swirling in his mind, but the more he played, the less comfort it brought him. His fingers hovered over the keys, but they refused to move, a mixture of fatigue and indecision stifling him.

He closed his eyes, the lyrics replaying in his mind with a haunting clarity: "I'm afraid to lose you, but I'm already losing myself." The words rang through him, a perfect reflection of what he was feeling, yet they offered no answers, no resolution. Each time the line came around, it felt like it was unraveling him bit by bit.

Hongjoong let out a long, slow breath, running a hand through his messy hair. How had he gotten here? How had something so simple—writing a song—spiraled into such a tangled mess of feelings? The music had felt like an outlet at first, a way to express something he couldn't put into words. But now, it only served to deepen the confusion that had taken root in his chest.

His gaze fell to the crumpled piece of paper resting on the music stand. The lyrics were scrawled across it in messy handwriting, an intimate reflection of his state of mind, of the emotions he hadn't yet fully accepted. "I never meant to fall, but here I am, falling for you."

But now, as he stared at those words, they felt like a betrayal. He wasn't sure if he was falling anymore—he felt like he was sinking. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like his feelings for Seonghwa were suffocating him, wrapping around his chest like an invisible vice. He hadn't meant for it to happen, not like this, but now that it had, he was afraid it was too late to turn back.

Seonghwa had always been his best friend. That was all. At least, that's what Hongjoong had convinced himself for so long. But lately, thinking about the moments they shared—those small, seemingly insignificant moments—felt different. When Seonghwa would brush past him, or laugh at something Hongjoong said, or even when their hands would accidentally touch, Hongjoong could feel the tension building, like an unspoken truth hovering between them. He had tried to ignore it, to push it down, but it was becoming impossible.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes shut tightly as his head swirled with the weight of his thoughts. "Is this really love?" he asked himself for what felt like the thousandth time. The question hung in the air, unanswered, as his mind spiraled deeper into the abyss.

What if it wasn't love at all? What if he was just scared?Scared of losing Seonghwa, even if they never crossed that line. But even more terrifying than that thought was the possibility that Seonghwa might never feel the same. What if Hongjoong had been reading too much into everything? What if he was just imagining things?

A tear slipped down Hongjoong's cheek, unnoticed, as he continued to play. He was exhausted. Emotionally drained. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with all of this. His heart ached, not from the song itself, but from the uncertainty. He could feel himself unraveling, but there was no one to help him find his way back.

"Why does it feel like this is all I have left?" he wondered out loud, his voice barely above a whisper. The question was a reflection of the weight that had been slowly crushing him for days now. He had always prided himself on being in control, but right now, he felt like he was drowning in his own emotions, unable to breathe or escape.

For a moment, the song stopped playing. He was still, just sitting in the dim room, surrounded by the music that no longer made sense. The silence felt heavier than anything else, amplifying the isolation he felt inside. He didn't know how to move forward. He didn't know what to do next.

And the worst part? He was too afraid to find out.

The days had passed in a blur for Hongjoong, but now, as he sat on his bed, staring at the calendar, reality hit him with full force. Seonghwa's birthday was only a few hours away, and the weight of his emotions had been building up for so long. The guilt, the confusion, the overwhelming ache in his chest—it all felt suffocating.

He hadn't been himself lately. The space between him and Seonghwa had grown, even if only slightly, and Hongjoong could feel it. He had been pulling away, distancing himself without meaning to, and now, with his heart finally coming to a painfully clear conclusion, it hurt. It hurt so much. He could barely look at Seonghwa without feeling the knot tighten in his throat, his stomach twisting in discomfort.

The calendar mocked him as his finger hovered over Seonghwa's birthday. Three hours. That was all he had left. Three hours to figure out how to tell Seonghwa what had been brewing inside him for so long. He had spent so many sleepless nights trying to bury his feelings, trying to ignore the fact that every smile Seonghwa gave him, every word of comfort, had been like a whisper to his heart—something deeper than friendship, something undeniable.

The quiet affection he had always felt for his best friend was something more—something he had been too afraid to admit to himself.

It was as if the fog had finally lifted, and Hongjoong could see everything so vividly. He loved Seonghwa. It wasn't just admiration or care—it was love. The kind that twisted his stomach when Seonghwa was near and left a hole in his chest when he wasn't. It was the kind of love that had always been there, hidden beneath layers of fear and uncertainty.

Hongjoong let out a breath, his hand instinctively going to his chest, as if trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. The song he had written only a few days ago, the one that had started as a way to sort through his feelings, now felt like an open confession. He hadn't realized it then, but the words he had written were a cry from his heart.

The guilt he had been feeling, the distance he had put between them, all seemed so pointless now. What was the point of pretending? What was the point of hiding from Seonghwa, when the truth was right there in front of him? Hongjoong was in love with Seonghwa, and he couldn't keep it to himself any longer.

Hongjoong stood up, the weight of his decision finally settling over him. He couldn't keep running from it. He had to be honest, not just with Seonghwa, but with himself. He was terrified, yes, but he couldn't wait any longer. The time was now.

The truth was simple, really. He was in love with Seonghwa, and there was no turning back.

Seonghwa sat in front of the mirror, his fingers absentmindedly brushing through his damp hair as he adjusted the loose, comfortable trousers and shirt he had thrown on after his warm bath. The soft steam from the water still clung to his skin, and for a moment, he let himself relax into the solitude of the moment. It was his birthday. He should've been excited, but there was a heaviness in his chest that kept him from feeling the usual joy that came with the occasion.

For the past five years, it had been a tradition. Every birthday at midnight, Hongjoong would sneak into his room, no matter how late or tired he was. They would either settle into a cozy corner to play Animal Crossing, laughing over the ridiculous things they'd done in-game, or they'd build Lego sets together, meticulously piecing together each tiny block as if the process itself was more important than the result. Some years, they simply collapsed on the couch, binge-watching movies until they both fell asleep, still wrapped up in the warmth of each other's company.

But this year... this year was different. Hongjoong hadn't come to his room at midnight. There was no playful knock on the door, no warm presence on the other side, no familiar teasing that made Seonghwa's heart flutter despite himself. The bed felt emptier.

Seonghwa ran his fingers over the edge of the mirror, looking at his own reflection—his tired eyes, the faint trace of sadness lingering there. He had tried to brush it off, tried to ignore the growing distance between them, but today it felt like everything had changed.

He knew Hongjoong had been going through something lately, but Seonghwa hadn't been able to figure it out. The usual closeness they shared had been slipping through his fingers, and he couldn't help but feel like he was losing him in ways that words couldn't explain.

With a heavy sigh, Seonghwa finished tying the waistband of his trousers and stood up, looking down at the comfortable, unassuming outfit he'd chosen. His birthday had always been a quiet, understated celebration anyway. But now, it felt like an empty routine—like everything had changed, and yet nothing had.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Just a few more minutes until midnight. He couldn't help but feel a pang of hope, maybe foolishly, that Hongjoong would show up after all. That they could still share that familiar tradition, that sense of closeness that always seemed to make everything feel right.

But the weight in his chest told him otherwise. This year, things were different. He could feel it. And he wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend it didn't hurt.

Seonghwa sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his reflection, his fingers nervously toying with his shirt. He thought back to San's advice a few days ago: "Give him space. Make him miss you." At the time, he'd believed it might help him and Hongjoong, but now, as he sat alone on his birthday, the weight of those words felt like a mistake.

What if by pulling back, he'd only pushed Hongjoong away? What if Hongjoong had decided his time wasn't worth it anymore? The thought gnawed at Seonghwa, making his chest tighten.

He regretted listening to San now. The distance between them felt unbearable, and as the clock ticked closer to midnight, Seonghwa feared it might already be too late for them.

12:01 AM.

Seonghwa sat in the dim light of his room, his gaze fixed on the Lego rose bouquet set that lay untouched on his table. He bit his lip, a sigh escaping his chest as he stared at the gift, now a painful reminder of everything he had yet to say. He had planned to give it to Hongjoong last week, just before he had realized how deeply in love with him he truly was.

The thought made his chest tighten, a mix of frustration and regret filling him. He had let his emotions overwhelm him, and now, the distance between them felt impossible to bridge. The gift—meant to be a symbol of his feelings—now felt like a cruel joke. Every time he looked at it, it mocked him.

Curse San and his fanfiction knowledge.

The door suddenly swung open with a loud creak, and Hongjoong stepped inside, his hair a chaotic mess, his shirt stained with dirt as if he had rushed through the day without a care. In his hands, he held a bouquet of flowers, the vibrant colors contrasting sharply with the exhaustion in his eyes, and a box of chocolates—Seonghwa's favorite—in the other.

For a moment, Seonghwa just stared, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of Hongjoong, standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath, but with a look of determination in his eyes. He was messy, disheveled, yet somehow more handsome than ever.

Hongjoong straightened up, his shoulders stiffening with a rare awkwardness. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if unsure of what to do next.

"Happy Birthday, my little star," Hongjoong said softly, the nickname they had shared for years slipping from his lips with a warmth that Seonghwa hadn't expected. His voice, despite the awkwardness, carried the affection they both had learned to take for granted.

Hongjoong dropped to his knees, his head bowed in a moment of vulnerability that left Seonghwa staring in surprise. The sudden shift in his demeanor caught him off guard, and he could barely comprehend what was happening.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong's voice cracked slightly, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his words. "You told me last week not to take care of you during your fever, and I agreed. Even though it hurt like hell, knowing you were sick and I couldn't hold you, couldn't kiss your cheeks—god, it felt like torture. But then you started ignoring me, all week long. And it hurt, really fucking bad." He paused, struggling to gather his thoughts, the weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"I don't know what I did wrong, Seonghwa. I just don't get it. I want to redeem myself, to fix this, but it's hard when my life is so dry, so fucking monotonous without you. It's like... it's like Demeter's harvest when Persephone was stolen away by Hades. A drought, a painful, endless drought. I don't know what I would do without you, genuinely. You're everything to me."

Hongjoong's hands trembled as he spoke, and for a moment, the words seemed to pour out of him like a confession he had been holding onto for too long. "Ever since we debuted, you've been my best friend, my muse, my everything. We've fought side by side, pushed each other to the limit, even targeted each other. But I've taken it all for granted, never properly thanking you."

Hongjoong's eyes lifted to meet Seonghwa's gaze, his voice softening with sincerity. "Thank you for being by my side all these years. Thank you for being my constant, for being the person I can always lean on in this crazy, chaotic world. Even when the storm rages, when the winds howl and the rain pours, I know we'll stand together. You and me, Seonghwa. It will always be us." (tried to sneak in some lyrics but okay)

"Hongjoong, what—" Seonghwa started to speak, his voice filled with confusion, but Hongjoong cut him off, his words coming out in a rush, raw and unfiltered.

"I'm in love with you, Park Seonghwa," Hongjoong confessed, his voice low but steady, carrying a weight that had been building for far too long. "Romantically, sexually, and every other word that ends with -lly. I've been lying to myself, pretending I don't feel this way when every part of me has been aching for you. I've been so scared to admit it, even to myself, but there's no denying it anymore."

His gaze never wavered from Seonghwa's face, the intensity of his emotions clear in his eyes. "You're not just my best friend. You're everything. Every damn thing. And I don't want to live a single day without you, not like this, not pretending anymore. I love you, Seonghwa. I'm in love with you."

For a moment, Seonghwa stood frozen, his heart racing in disbelief. The kind of love confession he had only ever read about in Wattpad stories—where the fictional Hongjoong pours his heart out in a raw, vulnerable moment—was now unfolding right in front of him. The Hongjoong in those stories, the one who would confess in poetic, intense words, was standing here in front of him, speaking them to... him?

It was surreal, almost impossible to comprehend. He'd always thought those kinds of confessions were reserved for fictional characters, but now the real Hongjoong was doing it for him. The same Hongjoong who had been by his side through everything, who had shared the laughter, the tears, the struggles. And now he was confessing his love in the most real and raw way possible.

Seonghwa's chest tightened, and a flood of emotions hit him all at once—surprise, joy, confusion, and the overwhelming sense that he might burst from how much his heart was swelling. Holy fuck, it felt too good to be real. Was this really happening? Was he really the one Hongjoong was in love with? It was like something out of a dream, only he didn't want to wake up from it.

Hongjoong paused, his heart sinking as he saw the panic in Seonghwa's eyes. "It's okay if you don't love me back—" he began, his voice faltering slightly, unsure of how to handle the uncertainty in the air.

Before he could finish, Seonghwa practically scrambled to cut him off, his words rushing out in a desperate, hurried confession. "NO—NO, I LOVE YOU TOO!" Seonghwa blurted out, his face flushed with embarrassment and relief all at once.

The raw honesty in his voice made Hongjoong's heart race. He couldn't quite believe it, not yet. Seonghwa, the one person he had poured his feelings into so recklessly, felt the same way? The thought made Hongjoong's stomach flutter and his chest tighten with a mix of joy and disbelief.

Seonghwa's face was now flushed, hands trembling slightly, as if the confession was as much a revelation to him as it was to Hongjoong.

Seonghwa's entire body was practically vibrating with excitement, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he felt like it might burst. He couldn't believe it—Hongjoong, the man who had been everything to him, had just confessed his love. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he was practically shaking with joy, trying to process it all.

Hongjoong, with a glint of playful teasing in his eyes, grinned at Seonghwa, knowing exactly what was about to happen. "You know, you can jump," he said, his voice full of affection and a touch of mischief.

Seonghwa gasped, his eyes widening in surprise. Of course, Hongjoong knew. He always knew. Whenever Seonghwa was overwhelmed with emotion, whether it was joy, excitement, or sheer happiness, his instinct was to jump around. It was an uncontrollable habit, a reflexive action that he'd always had, something he never quite grew out of.

But at that moment, despite his overwhelming excitement, Seonghwa hesitated. He wanted to jump, to express his joy, but a tiny voice in the back of his mind made him hesitate. Would Hongjoong think it was weird? Even though Hongjoong had seen him do it countless times before, it still felt different now—like everything had shifted. Would it be too much? Would it make the moment less real, less intimate?

But before Seonghwa could stop himself, the excitement won out, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He couldn't contain it anymore. And just like that, he jumped—higher and higher—laughing in pure joy. He didn't care anymore. He was finally in a place where it was okay to be himself, to let go of all his worries.

Hongjoong joined in. He reached out and grabbed Seonghwa's hand, their fingers interlocking in a perfect fit, as they both jumped around together. The sound of their laughter filled the room, a contagious, unrestrained joy that they shared without reservation.

Seonghwa's heart swelled as Hongjoong mirrored his excitement, jumping just as eagerly, their smiles bright and wide. It was like they were the only two people in the world at that moment, a world full of possibility, of love that neither had realized they were holding onto for so long.

As they jumped, Seonghwa couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness. This—being with Hongjoong, laughing, being free—was everything he had always wanted. They were no longer two individuals who danced around their feelings; they were two souls finally in sync, embracing the love they had both quietly nurtured for so long.

Eventually, their laughter softened, and they slowed, but neither of them let go of the other's hand. They stood there, breathless and smiling, the world outside still and forgotten. In that moment, everything felt right.

Giddy with excitement, Hongjoong's heart raced as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against Seonghwa's face. The intensity of the moment hung between them like an unspoken promise. His eyes searched Seonghwa's, a mixture of hope and vulnerability in his gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" Hongjoong asked, his voice soft but filled with longing, as if the simple words carried the weight of everything he had been feeling.

Seonghwa's eyes sparkled with something mischievous, yet tender. He bit his lip, teasing Hongjoong, knowing full well what he was doing. His hand gently cupped Hongjoong's face, brushing against his cheek as he leaned in just a little closer.

"First," Seonghwa said, a playful smile tugging at his lips, "ask me to be your boyfriend."

Hongjoong froze, blinking in surprise, but the warmth in his chest spread quickly. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he stepped back just enough to look at Seonghwa properly, his smile widening, filled with everything he had been holding back.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Hongjoong asked, his voice filled with earnestness and affection. There was no hesitation now, no fear. Just pure, unfiltered love.

Seonghwa's heart skipped a beat, his smile softening. He didn't need to say anything more—his answer was in the way his hand gently pulled Hongjoong back toward him, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I'd love to," Seonghwa whispered,

Hongjoong let out a quiet laugh, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in, closing the gap between them. This time, their kiss deepened, slow and careful, as if they were both savoring the newfound sweetness of this moment. Seonghwa's lips were warm, soft, and everything Hongjoong had imagined. The kiss was a dance of familiarity and newfound affection, their lips moving together in perfect sync, as if they had done this a million times before.

A shiver ran down Hongjoong's spine when Seonghwa's fingers gently threaded through his hair, pulling him in even closer. It was as though the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads touched again, and both of them were breathless, their smiles wide and hearts full. Hongjoong chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over Seonghwa's cheek, still not quite able to believe this was real.

"I guess we're official now," Hongjoong whispered, his voice still shaky from the torrent of emotions that had just poured out of him. His eyes searched Seonghwa's face, half-expecting a dream to shatter around him at any moment.

Seonghwa's lips curved into a smile, soft and radiant, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face. His eyes shimmered, catching the glow of the dim lights. "Yeah," he whispered back, his voice warm and tender, "officially perfect."

And for a brief, surreal moment, Seonghwa could only marvel at how this was real. He glanced at Hongjoong, the man who had been his anchor, his muse, his everything, and couldn't believe how things had unfolded. Just a week ago, he had cried himself into a fever, convinced that real Hongjoong could never love him the way fictional Hongjoong loved fictional Seonghwa. He could almost laugh at his own melodrama now.

How foolish he had been. How utterly wrong.

This—this confession, this moment, this trembling, joyous reality—was so much better than any story he had read on Wattpad or AO3. It wasn't filled with over-the-top dramatics or perfectly scripted lines. It was raw, unscripted, and messy in the most beautiful way. It was Hongjoong, stammering through his feelings but meaning every word. It was Seonghwa, feeling so much he thought his heart might burst.

Hongjoong's hand reached up, brushing against Seonghwa's cheek, his touch light and reverent. "I love you," he said softly, the words tumbling out again like they couldn't be said enough.

"I love you too," Seonghwa replied, his voice steady this time, but filled with an overwhelming sincerity.

They stood there, wrapped in the quiet of the moment, the world outside forgotten. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt exactly as it should be. 

Officially perfect. 

Officially Seongjoong.

THE END

[onlyymirknows]

When Jean Met Karina

My submission for Reijean Christmas Week, Day 1! Prompt: meeting each other's parents.

Read on AO3 (link)

Word Count: 7.1k AU: Modern, they're adults in an established relationship Genre: Angst w/ a happy ending (plus fluff and reijean banter) CWs: Reiner gets triggered, past emotional abuse, past character deaths (car accidents), past suicidal ideation, past homophobia, dropping of the f-slur

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Reiner handed Connie a small notebook, “Everything you need to know is in here but feel free to text me if you got any questions.” He leaned down and traced a small heart on the glass tank, leaving visible smudges. The small turtle near his fingertip glanced at its owner for a second before lazily paddling away to rest on some driftwood.

“I’ve watched him before, remember?” Connie reminded Reiner with a small, exasperated laugh, “He’s in good, capable hands. Don’t worry.”

Jean, noticing the way Reiner’s jaw clenched, squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder. This was their first time leaving town for Christmas and thus the first time they had to get someone to pet sit in the winter. The scariest season for a reptile keeper.

“Babe, I know what you’re thinking but we specifically got you a native species so you don’t have to worry about the heat as much. Besides, he’s a tough little guy.” Jean forced a grin, hoping to mask his own tense mood. Reiner returned a small smile accompanied by a soft exhale. Bingo. 

Then Jean turned to Connie, “Thanks for watching Bertl for us, Con. We’ll text you when we’re on our way home.”

“No prob, guys,” Connie beamed while ushering the couple to the door, “drive safe and see you next year!”

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When Jean slid into the passenger seat of Reiner’s truck he noticed a text from Connie, “try not to lose ur mind on reiner’s crazy mom k?” He scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Reiner pulled his door closed and started buckling his seatbelt. He turned the key in the ignition, the car engine purring to life.

“It’s nothing,” Jean muttered while buckling his own seat. He fiddled with the air vents while Reiner picked out some music on his phone. When Last Christmas began playing Jean couldn’t help but shoot a glare at his boyfriend.

“What’s with that sour expression?” Reiner asked incredulously, “It’s literally the 21st of December.” After a pause he added, “There’s no Mariah Carey on this playlist, okay? Just let me have this, Jeanie.”

Sighing, Jean looked out the window at the now moving pavement. “Okay, but once we get through this I get to choose the next playlist.”

Reiner laughed. “Yeah, yeah. As if I was going to torture you with 8 straight hours of Christmas music.” He glanced at Jean for a second with a warm smile while they waited at the red light letting out of their apartment complex. “Y’know, I love you in spite of the fact that you hate fun sometimes.”

Jean cracked a genuine smile for the first time that day. Maybe he did hate what many people would consider fun but it was only because he had taste. Unlike most of these Christmas songs that felt gaudy and artificial. Yet it was hard to deny the joy they seemed to bring his boyfriend so Jean disregarded his own preferences in the second half of December. Sacrifice and all that.

Indeed, his high school friends were confused when he brought a more “lowbrow” guy back with him from college. Then they saw the way Reiner made Jean loosen up and it all made sense. Somehow Reiner could convince Jean to try something new or give another thing a second chance. As if the blond were a siren and Jean a sailor who never dreamed of diving into the ocean.

Sometimes diving into the ocean to swim with a beautiful siren meant meeting a shark. In this case her name was Karina Braun and, as far as Jean was concerned, she was his enemy. Someone to challenge and fend off and—

“We can’t keep avoiding this, Jean,” Reiner paused the Christmas playlist, “do you want to talk about it now or when we’re closer to my hometown?”

The question broke Jean out of his thoughts and he bristled once the words registered in his mind. “What’s there to talk about?”

Reiner didn’t say anything as he merged onto the interstate. Instead he looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot before roving his gaze between his mirrors.

Jean rubbed his eyes, yawning, his own gaze fixed out the passenger window. When Reiner’s silence continued after they’d settled into the flow of traffic he turned his head. He couldn’t help but frown seeing the way Reiner’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, digits clearly tensed. Knuckles turning white.

“Rei, you good?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ugh.” Jean crossed his arms with a huff. “Look, I know I’m not the best at hiding my frustration. But I also don’t see what there is to discuss when you know damn well how I feel. I would’ve rather invited your cousin to come visit us. If it weren’t for the mem—”

“Don’t,” Reiner cut in firmly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening further, “we shouldn’t talk about that. Not right now… Maybe after we swap.”

“Right,” the brunet replied hoarsely, cheeks red, shoulders aching from suddenly tensing them hard as stone. He bowed his head, ashy brown locks slipping down and obscuring his face from view.

“But I shouldn’t’ve suggested talking bout all this right now,” the blond grumbled, “I shouldn’t’ve even said anything to begin with but I’m a dumbass and… yeah.” Reiner turned the music back on, keeping his eyes glued to traffic the whole time.

The two sat unspeaking for a moment, allowing the dulcet tones of Andy Williams to fill the space. Was it really The Most Wonderful Time of the Year? It certainly didn’t feel like it and, well, Jean knew he wasn’t helping. 

Despite his genuine intentions to help, Jean recognized how his stubbornness and results driven mindset could push the envelope at times. Sometimes to the point of causing more harm than good. And selfishly, he didn’t want to alienate his favorite person, so,  as the next song began, he placed a gentle hand on Reiner’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“You’re not a dumbass,” Jean reassured, voice regaining its warmth, “I think you’re being proactive and I’m proud of you for how well you’re handling this situation in spite of my bad attitude.”

“As if you’re usually a ball of sunshine,” Reiner muttered, though Jean saw the way the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth twitched. “I guess I want you to at least try being nice. Just try. You know?”

“I will try,” Jean murmured, “but let’s talk about all this later so you can focus on the road. I think that’s a good idea.”

Reiner nodded, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. Jean turned up the stereo before reclining his seat and looking out his window. The snowy landscape rushed by, filling his vision with a blurred field of white. It was oddly beautiful. Mesmerizing, even. Maybe that’s why his eyelids felt so heavy… though it was probably just last night’s insomnia finally catching up to him.

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A sudden blast of cold air rushing into the cabin jolted Jean from his slumber. He looked up to see Reiner standing outside his open door and the expression on his boyfriend’s face instantly perked him up. Unbuckling himself he turned in his seat to tightly wrap his arms around Reiner who fell into the embrace with a shudder.

“I.. I’m so s-sorry for waking you, Jean,” Reiner whispered breathlessly into his ear, “I just… traffic slowed down to a crawl and I g-got this feeling that..”

Jean hushed him while running a hand up and down his back. Looking past to the world outside he noted they were in an empty parking lot attached to what was probably an office building. Perfect. He took a deep breath before turning his attention back to his partner. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad you woke me up. You did exactly what you’re supposed to, Rei. You did good. Really, really good.”

They stayed in each other’s arms for a couple of minutes while Reiner calmed his shuddering breath. When Jean felt that his boyfriend was sufficiently recovered he insisted on taking the wheel. Originally the two planned on each driving about half of the way there but Jean assured that he didn’t mind driving extra.

“You get full music privileges,” Jean announced as he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, “hell, even Mariah.”

“Jean… it’s o-okay..” Reiner protested while wiping his eyes, “you don’t have to listen to music you hate just for me.”

“But I want to,” he grinned and gave Reiner’s shoulder a playful shove, “I know you would do the same for me.”

“I think I already do that, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. I don’t really hate any of your music but obscure 80’s ska and Medieval French battle hymns aren’t my favorite,” Reiner hesitated, “sometimes I’m not really in the mood but… I mean…” he trailed off, his mouth forming into a thin line across his face.

“Let me guess, you don’t ask me to change it because you don’t want to be a bother?”

Reiner turned to look at Jean head on and nodded, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Jean huffed. Of course his self sacrificing boyfriend would listen to literally anything Jean wanted. It was true that Reiner was a lot less picky than him. Yet he also felt like a bit of an ass for never asking if Reiner actually enjoyed his more niche music choices.

He reached over to ruffle the hair on the back of Reiner’s head, rolling his eyes as he did so. “You gotta work on this with your therapist more, hon. I want you to tell me stuff like that. I’m here to please you as much as you’re here to please me. I expect some god damn equality in my relationship. Got it?”

The blond’s smile grew wider. “Loud and clear.”

Without another word, Jean leaned over the console while pulling Reiner towards him. Their foreheads connected with a gentle bump and a renewed smile on both of their faces. Jean tilted his head slightly, making a point to nuzzle the crook of his boyfriend’s nose. 

Reiner sighed contentedly in response. He lifted his hand to cup the side of Jean’s face before pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. A silent thank you from one to the other, sweet, but also vulnerable. Like a hesitant knock on the door of Jean’s world where Reiner sometimes felt out of place. Such as now when his emotions were still dizzying and fraught.

Recognizing the call, Jean pulled Reiner in closer, and began peppering kisses all over his face. Forehead, brows, nose, cheekbones, jaw, chin. And the lips, so many flurried pecks to Reiner’s chapped lips. Every one meant to convey the same thing—I want you. I love you.

“Aghh!” Reiner exclaimed through the attack. He let out wonderfully delighted laughs that set Jean’s soul alight with elation. “Mercy, mercy!”

After one final kiss on the mouth, Jean let Reiner go to lay back against the passenger seat. The blond heaved deep breaths, latent laughs slowly dying on his lips. “I love this side of you,” he mused while buckling himself in, “I’m honored whenever you let me see it.”

“Oh shut up,” Jean chuckled, “you make me sound like some humorless dolt.” He turned the key in the ignition then threw the car into reverse.

“Humorless dolt? Not at all. In I fact think you’re very clever,” Reiner replied smoothly, “witty, droll, piquant—”

“That’s enough, Cyrano. Now where do you want to stop for lunch?”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The rest of the drive was relatively smooth. Free flowing traffic, no heated discussions, and Reiner chose a music genre both of them could agree on—80’s glam metal. Jean liked the fashion and showmanship while Reiner appreciated the cheese and catchy hooks. It wasn’t until Jani Lane started singing about secrets he just couldn’t tell that the dreaded topic returned.

“Are you sure you’re okay pretending to be roommates in front of my family?” Reiner asked after turning down the stereo. His voice cracked at the end, prompting him to busy himself with his water bottle to soothe his scratchy throat.

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Jean sighed.

“Are you positive? We don’t have to keep it a secret if you really don’t want—”

“I’m positive, Reiner. It’s seriously not a big deal.”

“And you’ll try being nice, right?”

“Oh course,” Jean insisted, albeit gently.

“…Okay,” Reiner moved to turn the volume back up when Jean covered the dial with his hand.

“Do you not trust me, Rei? To keep my cool?”

“It’s not that I distrust you, Jean. You have a cool head. I mean, I was surprised when your friends mentioned how much you fought with Eren growing up.” The thought of teens Jean and Eren fighting brought a smile to Reiner’s face. “But I know how strongly you feel about my mom. I don’t really blame you, either, it’s just that she’s not actually a villain.”

“I know that,” Jean responded tersely in spite of himself. In his periphery he noticed the way Reiner winced and he sighed again. With a softer voice he added, “I understand that she’s a person.”

“But will you keep that in mind when she says something ignorant? Or even just a little frustrating?”

“Reiner, I promise you I will do everything in my power to make this experience as stress free for you as possible. Trust me.” Jean glanced over at his boyfriend with a smile before returning his attention to the road. They were back on surface streets by now, mere minutes away from the Braun household.

The front door of the house flew open upon their arrival, before Jean finished pulling into the driveway, even. It was a teenage girl absolutely beaming from cheek to cheek, eyes scrunched closed in joy. From the passenger seat Reiner let out a quiet gasp and, without a word, hopped out of the car to meet her.

“Reiner!” She squealed excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift her up from the ground. “I’m so happy you came!”

“And I’m so happy to see you again, Gabi. You’ve grown so much!” He gave her a twirl before setting her back on the ground, his own smile dazzling brighter than the strings of twinkling lights surrounding the open doorway. 

Jean hadn’t seen his boyfriend this happy in weeks and he couldn’t help but stare in grateful awe at the scene. Then his eye caught another figure approaching from inside of the house and his mood immediately soured. 

It was Reiner’s mother, Karina. She was short with drabby blonde hair, deep set eyes, wrinkles, and a very familiar nose. Not exactly the face of evil but he knew how looks could be deceiving.

Reiner turned and hugged her with what looked like a beat of hesitation. Jean quickly got out of the car to join them, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. He heard the tail end of a sentence on his approach that made his jaw clench.

“…you’ve gotten so big, Reiner.”

Thankfully he caught himself before his face formed into the nastiest scowl, remembering the promise he’d made minutes earlier. Besides, Jean reminded himself, maybe Karina didn’t mean anything negative by it when she called her son big. Perhaps it was a comment on the fact that Reiner had gotten into weight training since his last visit.

“Thanks mom,” Reiner replied with an awkward chuckle, “I started going to the gym more regularly. So uh, let me know if you need me to lift anything for you while I’m here.”

Okay, so he was right to give her the benefit of the doubt. Except then Jean’s resolve almost faltered yet again when Karina greeted him, leaning past Reiner and smiling at him.

“Ahh so this is your roommate Gene, I take it? It’s nice to meet you, dear.” 

Of course she said his name wrong. Fucking Gene, as if he were a pair of denim pants. His hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, preparing the most passive aggressive response possible when Reiner suddenly jumped in with a correction.

“No, mom. It’s Jean. Kind of like fawn but with a J.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, I had no idea. It’s wonderful to meet you, Jean.” Her expression softened back into a smile as her gaze moved to Reiner’s truck. “How about we get everything inside? It’s starting to get chilly.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“So Jean’s bags should go into the guest room, then?” Reiner asked as they carried the last few things inside with them.

“No, dear, that’s where Gabi’s staying,” Karina responded, “your aunt and uncle are out of town on a couple’s trip with the Grices. I offered to let Gabi stay here.”

“Isn’t it great, Reiner?” Gabi hopped excitedly between each foot, practically jogging in place. “Just like old times! Remember how my parents and I would stay over for Christmas Eve and we’d all wake up together the next morning?”

Reiner nodded, “I do remember. You’d kick me out of my room and I’d sleep on the couch.” Though the wording sounded bitter the smile on his face indicated he felt quite the opposite. “So I’m guessing I’m on the couch while Jean’s in my old room? I’ll take my stuff to the living r—”

“Ahh, no,” his mother interrupted, “Falco will be on the couch.”

“Falco?” Jean found himself asking, trying to place the vaguely familiar name.

“My boyfriend!!” Gabi practically shouted. Reiner looked surprised before quickly recovering into a warm smile.

“Also a family friend,” Reiner elaborated, “his parents are the ones traveling with my aunt and uncle. I’m guessing my mother agreed to let him stay over, too.”

“I did, yes. He’s currently visiting his brother out of state but he’ll be here in a couple of days. I know it’s… unusual but do you mind sharing a room?”

“I don’t mind,” Jean replied, practically holding his breath. Was this for real?

Karina lowered her voice so only the two men could hear her, “Thank you. I obviously can’t let those two share a room, even if they’re both 18. It wouldn’t be decent.”

Oh. Of course it was a concern about the teenagers having sex. Jean held in a sigh while Reiner hurriedly ushered him upstairs to his childhood room, saying something to his mom about coming back down soon for dinner.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Looks like we lucked out,” Reiner muttered after closing the door shut behind him, “though I’m surprised she didn’t insist on finding me a sleeping bag so we didn’t have to share the bed.”

“Maybe she’s trying not to push her luck,” Jean sat down on said bed and looked around the room. Any decorations Reiner may have put up as a teenager were long gone. Her son had been out of the house for close to a decade at this point so perhaps that was warranted but it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Did you know your mom sanitized your room like this?”

Reiner shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to him. “No, but it doesn’t bother me, either. I don’t want to be reminded of the old days, anyway… it’s not like they were good.” As nonchalant as he probably tried to sound, the edge in his voice gave him away.

Jean frowned and wrapped an arm around Reiner’s shoulder, pulling him in for a sideways embrace. “Don’t say that, Rei,” he leaned over to whisper into his partner’s ear, “maybe you didn’t have any good days in this room but we wouldn’t be here right now if your entire life before college was exclusively miserable.”

“You’re right,” his boyfriend pressed their foreheads together gently, amber eyes closing, “I owed Porco a visit, anyways.” A single tear rolled down Reiner’s cheek as he took a shuddering breath, “Sometimes I can’t help but still feel like they’re both my—”

“Hey, hey, don’t go there,” Jean cut in, hands quickly cupping the other man’s face, “I… I understand, you know that. And I also get you can’t exactly help it sometimes but I’m also not gonna let you just say it. Because it’s not true. It was never true. Never.”

In his mind Jean thought the words he wouldn’t dare speak aloud right now. Not as Reiner began weeping quietly, tears seeping into the cracks between his own face and Jean’s supportive palms.

It’s not true, no matter what your mom told you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Over the next couple of days Jean found himself on high alert. Despite the fact that Karina never said anything outwardly hostile, he couldn’t help but notice her frequent attempts to get her son alone. As far as he was concerned, no good could come from such an interaction.

Thus he made sure to intervene every single time, practically gluing himself to Reiner’s hip. Somehow he managed to do so without any pleading expressions from his beau. No desperate glances silently screaming for Jean to behave.

Instead Reiner thoroughly enjoyed himself, catching up with his baby cousin and introducing her to Jean. Gabi, while initially a shock to the senses with her loud voice and frequent exclamations, quickly grew on him. She was spunky, reminding Jean of a younger version of himself.

All the while Karina stood on the sidelines, watching. Occasionally she made some attempt at joining in on the conversation but often failed to connect. Gabi also made some efforts to bring her in on some topic or another but the old hag was usually too clueless to contribute. Talk about satisfying.

Jean smiled every time she made eye contact with him, imagining how much Karina probably hated him for not letting her sink her claws into his man.

Everything changed when he woke up alone on the morning of the 24th. The moment he realized Reiner wasn’t there he grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 7:18, meaning he hadn’t grossly overslept. Then Jean noticed a text message from Reiner from around an hour ago.

“Gabi begged me to pick up Falco from the airport with her. Should be back before breakfast.”

He sighed in relief, happy that Reiner was occupied by Gabi and not his mother. Speaking of, Karina usually served breakfast around 8, meaning the three should be back soon. 

Jean got up from bed and commenced his morning routine: showering, brushing his teeth, skincare, and of course haircare. By the time he wandered downstairs in some comfortable clothes it was already 7:55. Reiner and the kids were due back any minute. He sat down at the kitchen table and did a crossword on his phone while he waited.

Karina stood by the stove cooking up something for all of them to eat. If Jean had to give her credit for something, it was her cooking. Even something as simple as scrambled eggs and bacon smelled absolutely divine coming out of her kitchen. Had she been any other person he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to learn her secrets.

“Here you go, Jean. I’ll pour you some coffee, too.”

A plate with some eggs, sausage, and toast suddenly appeared on the table before him. He looked up at her, surprised that she would serve him breakfast before everyone else was present. The past couple of mornings they always waited for everyone, no matter how much Gabi insisted she was dying of starvation.

As if reading his mind Karina spoke up again, “Gabi told me they were running late and would grab breakfast on the way home. So it’s just us two this morning.” She placed a decorative mug of black coffee next to Jean’s plate. 

The mug was Christmas themed with little reindeer flying through the sky pulling Santa’s sleigh. Except instead of being cartoonish it was elegant and minimalist. White silhouettes on a black background with smooth looping script wishing him a Merry Christmas. Okay, maybe he had to give her credit for her tastes in drinkware, too. It was a wonder where Reiner got his adorable but tacky tastes.

He sipped on the drink, still piping hot from the coffee press, while Karina brought her own plate over and sat across from him. They ate in silence, Jean practically gluing his eyes to his phone screen to avoid catching her gaze. Without Reiner’s presence there to rein him in, the temptation to tear into her only grew. 

He just had to hold out until Reiner and the kids came back.

“They probably won’t get here until lunch,” Karina suddenly stated right as Jean finished the last bite of food on his plate. The way she said it sounded so certain. Probably? That was definitely a lie for appearances. She knew they wouldn’t be back for a while.

Jean swallowed hard, eyes finally snapping up to look at Karina. “Why do you say that?”

“I asked Gabi to buy me some time, and so she lied to Reiner about when Falco’s plane landed,” she replied, expression stony, “I thought, if you won’t let me talk to my son then I might as well talk to you instead.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Are you the reason my son won’t answer my calls anymore? Why he blocked me on social media? Why I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral several years ago?”

“You’re damn right I’m the reason,” he declared, feeling a fiery heat ignite in his soul, calling forth the fury he’d contained over the past few days. One built up by years of watching his best friend suffer from deep emotional wounds primarily inflicted upon him by this woman. Jean clenched his fists, mentally preparing himself for what felt like an ensuing battle. 

She frowned, the wrinkles in her forehead growing more pronounced. “Why did you do that?”

“Why?” Jean laughed haughtily, his almond eyes brimming with deep disdain. “Because you make him absolutely miserable. He can’t help but love you as his mom but I saw the way Reiner deflated after every phone call with you. How he’d get so anxious about every little mistake he made. And, unlike you, I got Reiner the help he needed. I supported him through that process and eventually helped him find the courage to finally cut you out.”

“Then why are you even here?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing further in what looked like frustration, “And why for so long? Why stay here until after New Years?”

Jean scoffed, “It’s not to see you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“For Gabi, then?”

“No, if it was just about Gabi then I would have invited her to come visit us for the holidays. Falco, too. He sounds like a nice kid.”

Karina pursed her lips, mouth forming a thin line across her face. To Jean’s surprise, though, she stayed silent, evidently waiting for him to continue.

He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to elaborate. None of this was any of her business, after all. Except he wanted her to feel bad. To feel guilty for all of the cruel and messed up things she did and said to Reiner over the years. And, well, he only promised to make the trip stress free for Reiner who wasn’t there to bear witness… What if Reiner just never found out?

“We’re here to pay our respects to Marcel and,” Jean gazed at her with all of the intensity he could muster, “Bertholdt. Though you might know him better as that wretched sinner or, I don’t know, that disgusting faggot?” He paused for a moment, taking in the way she winced when he repeated her words back to her.

“I could scarcely believe it the first time Reiner told me about their deaths,” Jean spat, “how you screamed at him for killing Marcel. I mean, how dare you blame him for that? And for what? Because if he hadn’t skipped his extracurricular that day then he wouldn’t have been there to cause the accident?”

She bowed her head, staring intently at her hands to avoid confronting the deadly look on Jean’s face.

“As if Reiner had any control over the driver who ran the red light when they were all crossing the street. As if he chose to have his friend push him out of danger to take the hit himself! Marcel, a dear friend, died and you had no sympathy, no compassion for your son. It’s been 15 years and he still carries that guilt with him. Still blames himself.”

Tears of indignation started welling in the corner of Jean’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away. It’d be a cold day in hell when he showed any signs of weakness to this witch.

“And you didn’t even get him help! He watched a friend get hit by a car and you couldn’t be bothered to get him in to see a therapist. And I know you had the resources. Unlike Bertholdt’s father who wanted to get his son into therapy after also witnessing the accident but just didn’t have the right insurance. You realize that Reiner and Bertholdt practically held each other together after that, right?”

Surprisingly Karina responded with a single nod of the head. Yet she continued staring at the table, her expression unreadable. He knew he could stop here, having likely gotten his point across but fuck that. It wasn’t close to enough.

“If you knew how much your son relied upon that friendship then why did you tear them apart? Huh?”

Karina hunched further forward in her seat, elbows now propped up on the table so she could hold her head. She didn’t even attempt a response, which only served to piss Jean off more.

“We both know it’s because you walked in on them sharing a kiss! A simple peck on the lips and you lost your goddamn mind! You grounded your son for the rest of the school year and forbade him from seeing his best friend! They didn’t even know how they actually felt about each other but you didn’t hesitate to demonize an innocent teenager! One you’d known for years at that point, no less!”

Jean banged his fist on the table with a frustrated grunt, causing the dishes to clatter from the force. She flinched in response but still hung her head low, refusing to face his fury. He took a moment to catch his breath before continuing his condemnation. “The night Bertholdt died he was driving here to see Reiner. Not to have some secret affair but because your son was at the end of his rope.”

Finally she raised her head, looking at him with a hollow, wide eyed expression. 

“That’s right. Reiner started talking about hurting himself and his best friend rushed here despite your warnings in order to save your son…” for the first time Jean hesitated, temporarily uncertain if he should throw the finishing blow. Then he remembered the look of devastation on Reiner’s face the first time he heard this story and he knew it had to be done.

“Did you know that they were on the phone together? Bertholdt didn’t want to leave Reiner alone for a second, afraid of what might happen if he did. As a result Reiner heard all of it. The crash, the screams of pain, and then the emergency workers frantically pulling Bertholdt from the wreckage, shouting about the blood loss and—” 

“Stop!” Karina sobbed desperately, her suddenly visible eyes pleading with Jean to grant her mercy. The look on her face, the hint of remorse he sensed in her, made him take pity and skip the rest of the gory details.

“The only reason we’re even here talking right now,” Jean growled, “the only reason your son is still alive, is because he had other people to carry him through. First he had his friends here in town and then he went to college and found me. I saw how much he was hurting and I encouraged him to finally talk to a professional. Now he’s flourishing and I’ll be damned if I let you undo any of his hard earned progress!”

What he heard her say next didn’t make any sense. Jean couldn’t help but think he’d misheard Karina through her sobs and gasps for air. But then she said it again and again. So many times that it became unmistakable.

“Thank you.”

“What? Why the hell are you thanking me?”

“Because,” Karina suddenly reached across the table to grab one of Jean’s hands. In any other situation he would immediately pull away but his instincts told him to wait. “Jean, dear, I’ve been trying to get Reiner alone to ask if he would consider going to family therapy with me.”

“Wait, what?”

“After Reiner cut me off.. I was a complete mess. At first I was so angry. How could my baby forsake me like that? After everything I sacrificed to raise him. But then the anger, it turned into despair and I could hardly function. When I went in for a medical appointment, the doctor convinced me to see a therapist for my depression. It took years but eventually I realized how much I’d let down my dear son.”

Jean stared at Karina, too stunned to even notice that now he was crying. Not from righteous anger but from utter confusion. For all of the times he had daydreamed about putting this woman in her place he never imagined such a response.

“If you hadn’t convinced Reiner to shut me out I never would’ve gotten the help I needed. I never would’ve worked on my own issues and understood how I took them out on him. I failed him as a mother. I know that now.” She let go of Jean’s hand to grab a tissue box and set it on the table between the two of them.

“Hold on,” he watched as she pulled a tissue to dab at her eyes, “if you already knew you’d done wrong by Reiner then why did you let me tell you off like that?” Jean grimaced now as he thought back on the comments he’d just made. The fierce condemnations. The unapologetic jabs.

Karina smiled weakly, “Well… I guess I wanted to understand how you saw the situation as my son’s life partner.”

“That’s reasona— WHAT,” Jean bolted up from his seat, “what did you just call me!?”

“Reiner’s life partner,” she repeated gently, her smile widening.

“You knew this whole time!?”

Karina nodded.

“How?!” Jean slammed his palms down on the table, rattling the tableware yet again. 

This time, instead of flinching, Karina couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A goofy, genuine laugh that rumbled from her stomach and up through her chest. A laugh that sounded exactly like Reiner’s when he felt light and carefree. When he was happy.

“Gabi and Reiner are friends on social media, dear,” she finally explained after containing her amusement. “He isn’t shy about your relationship. And Gabi isn’t shy about, well, anything. I don’t think she realized that I wasn’t supposed to know when she told me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well,” Karina sighed, her smile quickly fading, “I… I didn’t want to stress Reiner. Or you, for that matter. With how bigoted I used to be, I wasn’t sure if either of you would believe me if I said I was okay with it, either.”

Jean nodded, finally allowing himself to smile. He sat back down at the table and leaned back in the seat. Without saying anything, Karina grabbed Jean’s nearly empty cup of coffee and brought back a fresh pour.

“We have a few hours still,” she reminded him, “If you’re up to it, I think it would be nice to start over.”

He considered her offer for a second, a smug smile crossing his face. “Sure but on one condition.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The last thing Reiner expected to hear when he threw open the door of his mother’s house after hours of waiting around at the airport was raucous laughter. Especially not Jean’s laughter, at that. He kicked off his shoes and hastily ran into the kitchen where he discovered Jean gleefully laughing at a photo album.

“Oh, that picture of him dressed as a yam?” Karina asked with a chuckle. She was back at the stove, putting the finishing touches on their lunch.

“Is that what that is?” Jean questioned with a wide, mischievous smile. His eyes were glued to a polaroid of a young Reiner wearing a lumpy reddish-brown blob of a costume. “Was this for some Thanksgiving play or something?”

Reiner froze in place, mouth hanging open. Wide eyed, he glanced back and forth between the duo, too shocked to speak.

“No, no” she replied cheerfully, “that was for Halloween. Reiner really, and I mean really, loved sweet potatoes back then. I borrowed his aunt’s sewing machine and tried throwing something together for him. It admittedly wasn’t very good.”

Jean cackled. He flipped to the next page, grinning at more pictures of the yam costume while sipping on some water.

“Hello Ms. Braun, thank you for hosting me,” a gentle voice suddenly came from Reiner’s side and drew everyone’s attention. Falco stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a small tin. “Colt baked these cookies for us to enjoy.”

Without skipping a beat Jean got up from the table to shake Falco’s hand and introduce himself. Then he gestured for the young man to follow him to the stove where Karina once stood.

Reiner looked down to see his mother gazing up at him, a nervous smile adorning her face. She gently grabbed his arm and led him to the next room while Gabi passed them to join the others.

“Mom, what’s going on?” He asked quietly, eyebrows still stuck high on his forehead.

“I asked Gabi to keep you busy for a while so I could talk to Jean,” Karina let go of her son’s arm to rest her hands at her sides. That alone was unusual to him, having grown accustomed to his mother clinging to him when they were in such close proximity. She continued, “I’m sorry for the tricks but I realized I needed to get your boyfriend on my side if I wanted to talk to you. And yes, I’ve known this whole time. Gabi told me a while ago.”

“Gabi told you I had a boyfriend? But then why—” Reiner cut himself off and shook his head, realizing that it really didn’t matter why his mother played along with the roommate story. Not when she referred to Jean as his boyfriend without a shred of contempt in her tone.

“Reiner, I’m so sorry,” Karina looked away for a moment to wipe her watering eyes, “I know I hurt you so much.”

He blinked back tears of his own. Was this real? “It’s… it’s okay, mom, r-really…” Reiner stammered, suddenly overcome with an indescribable feeling of guilt. One that he often felt when thinking about his mother but never understood.

“My dear boy, it’s not okay. I am your mother and I failed you. After talking to Jean I realized that I failed you even more than I thought. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”

“Wait,” he protested, “that man, my dad, took advantage of you when you were still just a teenager and then abandoned you with his child. And then.. grandma and grandpa, I didn’t see it back then but I see it now. I see how disappointed they were. You hardly knew peace a-and they treated m-me like an extension of you. I… I can’t b-blame you for wanting me to meet their expectations.”

Karina shook her head, choking back tears. Reiner could see the way she fought against her own desire to pull him into a hug and it broke his heart. As often as Jean had encouraged him to be angry at his mother, he rarely ever could. 

That guilt, he suddenly realized where it came from. And that was from the knowledge that his very existence made Karina’s life infinitely harder. How every little mistake he made was weaponized against her by his grandparents. The only ones he ever knew and also the ones who silently saw Reiner as a mistake. 

It’s not like they were wrong, either.

Yet Karina didn’t stop shaking her head in disagreement, fighting against her own emotions to find her voice. “None of what you said, about your father or my parents or my age,” she croaked, barely understandable, “none of that was your fault.” She muffled a sob with her hands. 

“You didn’t choose to be born, Reiner. And maybe… maybe I didn’t choose to give birth, but it’s not an excuse for how I treated you. Or how I treated poor Bertholdt. You were just kids and I… I had n-no idea th-that you… or that h-he… it’s all m-my f-fault…”

Reiner sucked in a sharp breath, immediately understanding his mother now knew about that awful night. Without hesitation he pulled her into a strong embrace, unable to contain his own sobs. Karina whimpered innumerable apologies and for once he let her without protest. 

Deep down Reiner somehow knew that both of them needed this. His mom needed to apologize for her wrongdoings. He needed to forgive himself for every one of those wrongs for which he had ever accepted the blame. This was them, finally healing. The first step of countless many in a journey that already felt infinitely easier.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

That night five of them sat around the kitchen table, laughing and playing some of their favorite board games. Karina sat out of some of the rounds but, unlike the previous days, she was very much part of the conversation. Jean still struggled at times to hold his tongue after she said something questionable but he cut himself some slack. He knew this was a process for him, too.

When he and Reiner finally retired to their room his heart felt much lighter. As did his boyfriend’s for that matter, (though he was a little tipsy, too.) It didn’t take long before Jean felt Reiner lightly snoring into the back of his neck, the latter insisting on being the big spoon that night. He smiled to himself as sleep gradually came to claim him, too.

Never in Jean’s dreams did he ever imagine liking Karina Braun. Perhaps it was a Christmas miracle. Or perhaps, as was sometimes the case, he assumed the worst of someone he never met in the process of fighting for someone he loved. He didn’t question it, however, just happy that he agreed to give her the chance.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If there is enough interest I might write a second part where reijean go on a double date with pokupiku and pay their respects to Marcel and Bertholdt.

[dramaqueer-commie]

oh my jesus fucking christ????

neverafter spoilers

everyone trying to talk to the princesses is the funniest shit ive seen in my goddamn life?!?!!!

Gerard nervously babbeling about the apocalypse while insisting its not a sex thing and then EXITING THE ROOM DANCING AND SINGING HER HAIR IS EVERYWHERE AFTER SERIOUSLY DECLARING "if i dont come back its because Rapunzel GOT ME!" is the funniest murph bit ive ever seen???

Cinderella seriously went "thats how sight works"?????? omg are yall trying to kill me???? but also like what was she supposed to say?? "does that sorts work in... in reverse?"???? hello? Pinocchio?? what are you DOING???

I was like "omg Mother Goose trying to match Rapunzels energy is so smart this is gonna be good" COMPLETELY forgetting this is Ally Beardsly, its gonna get real weird, real fast. "so we're both kinda just doing this creepy thing, all right..."??? oh so you know its creepy? but also yes why did Rapunzel go "this person is acting really strange, i better do what hes doing"???? arent you supposed to be some social genius??? whats happening???

"THIS HAS BEEN... LONG"!?!???!? ALLY YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD there is nothing i respect more than making a worse choice bc its a million times funnier

i started this episode like "wow being stuck in this castle and having to trick your way out without making them realize you know their plan and they can hear everything is the scariest part of this season so far well done" and i guess to comedians all of their brains clicked at the same time "time to break the tension"

by gods you did. and it was magnificent

[haley-harrison]

Eric Kripke is the Alfred Hitchcock of our generation. In this essay I will outline the main types of horror they use, offer examples, and elaborate the genius of the said tropes.

It will come as no surprise to anyone familiar with the man's work, that Kripke loves his ✨gore✨. Now that he's no longer restrained by CW's PG rating, he gets to go full-throttle with it in The Boys. That isn't to say that Supernatural didn't get it's fair share though - I mean, just remember the "Skin" episode in season one - that scene where the skinwalker changes his skin is pure body horror. Masterful.

Okay, Haley, so what? Some of us aren't squeamish. What's the brilliant part?

Good point, my med/bio orientated reader. That gets me to the second type of horror (and my personal kryptonite): psychological horror.

Here we get to lovecraftian themes. And I don't exactly mean Cthulhu. See, lovecraftian monsters are incomprehensible to the human mind, which generates horror through the unease of being unable to understand. Similarly, certain characters that the majority of the audience cannot identify with, can be used to the same end. Lemme illustrate this with two examples: Homelander and The Deep.

I reckon it's safe to assume most people aren't sadistic psychopaths, nor zoophiles with a penchant for sea creatures. Therefore the extreme Otherness of these two makes people uneasy, disturbing on a fundamental level. Hitchcock refined that particular horror trope by sprinkling his movies with taboo-topics of his own time, such as implied homosexuality. (*gasp* 🏳️‍🌈😆)

And here we get to the now well-known horror rule: the unseen monster is the scariest monster. More broadly, what is only implied can be more impactful than having the exact scenario shown on screen. The unsaid leaves more to the imagination (which is the most powerful tool for horror), and creates and additional dread with the element of unknown. People are unsettled by what else there might be, when elipses replace a clear answer.

Now back to Kripke, and how CW's censorship actually worked in his favor in Supernatural.

Maybe you saw this coming, but the monsters aren't the lovecraftian element. (Really, with the exception of tulpas and wendigos, none of them were even remotely scary). As I said above, Homelander and The Deep are lovecraftian because they're freaks. Unsympathetic freaks, but imagine if we took that first part away...

I shan't say it.

Just. Something something, american gothic, shit's implied and that's the point.

Haley, is this an elaborate ploy to talk about shipping? Really?

No. This is about environmental storytelling, gritty noir filter, camera angles, and just how much is left unsaid. This is about trauma, and repression, and the emotional reaction of the audience when they're left to ruminate a bit on the kind of lives the Winchesters had. It's about the missing scenes, the psychology, the implications - just -

*deep breath*

Another brilliant thing is how Kripke plays around with bathos - causing contrasting feelings in quick succession to give the audience emotional whiplash. The quips sprinkled in between the violence. The unexpected gag right before a gut-punch. It accentuates the experience for the audience. Like the way Dean's relationship with food is often played for laughs, but when you mull it over it's not hard to figure out the underlying food scarcity while growing up.

And furthermore, where did the money come from when times were tough? A myriad of angst-fics went ahead to answer that, which just proves an implication is far superior to exposition.

Then there's Hell. We don't get more than a few seconds of flashes, but think about it. Wouldn't Hell use every torture method imaginable? And what's the most psychologically damaging thing you can do to a person, especially a man?

I think you know the answer.

And that realization is the dawning psychological horror.

Finally, I'll leave you with this:

Just... Kripke!!!

I'm biting stuff!

[twistedtummies2]

Top 5 Appearances of Jack Skellington

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I decided to use this opportunity to dedicate a short countdown to a film I’m very thankful for: the stop-motion animation classic, “The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Why today? Several reasons: first, Thanksgiving falls right smack dab in the middle between Halloween and Christmas, as far as major American holidays go, so it seems a decent date, given the subject matter. Second, recently the movie enjoyed its 30th Anniversary, so that’s definitely something to celebrate. Third, its producer - and the man many agree is most responsible for the feature’s existence, Tim Burton - got his long-deserved star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame this very year. Fourth and finally, it is quite possibly my favorite movie, and certainly my favorite Disney movie. By that measure alone, I am supremely grateful for its existence, and so a day of Thanksgiving seems a good time to talk about it…and its main character. Initially, I was going to dedicate this list to the film as a whole, but after some deliberation, I decided to focus this countdown specifically on the main protagonist of the feature, Jack Skellington. Jack is an anomaly for a lot of reasons; he’s one of the few times - especially in a movie that now wears the Disney brand like a badge of honor - where the main character of the story really is my favorite one. He’s become almost as recognized as Mickey Mouse around the company, as their resident face of both Halloween AND Christmas. And as time has gone on, his popularity has only continued to rise. What’s great about Jack, and makes him so unique, is the way the character is both so complex and yet so simple, just like the film he’s from. This is also not taking into account the many dualities inherent to the character. He’s the Pumpkin King, the scariest soul in Halloween Town…yet he’s also a sweetheart and finds a sense of childlike wonder in the Christmas season. He’s a dapper, charismatic, theatrical, somewhat grandiloquent fellow…yet he’s also a complete goober, showing a great deal of naivete and not always thinking things through. He’s typically a nice guy who acts polite and friendly to most anyone he meets…but if you cross him the wrong way, or dare to hurt those he considers his friends, he’ll whoop you in a second without mercy. It’s this constant contrast of darkness and light, of the intellectual master of horror and the childlike innocent, that makes him so engaging and interesting. That, and the fact that - unique among Disney heroes especially - Jack kind of creates his own conflict in the story. Yes, Oogie Boogie is the nominal villain of the movie, but even he really only becomes a problem in the original film BECAUSE of Jack’s bad decisions. If you took Oogie out of the equation, Jack could ALMOST be considered a villain in his own right; thankfully, he realizes and learns from his mistake and is quick to make things right. I thought it would be fun to look at some of Jack’s appearances since the film, much as I have done with some of the great Disney Villains (coincidentally) in the past. Now, I can only count appearances I’m personally familiar with to some degree or another, so if any that YOU like are left out of the running, it’s most likely just because I haven’t read, seen, or played them yet. With that said, let’s celebrate Thanksgiving by looking at a character known for its surrounding holidays…forever proving, by extension, that this holiday is the middle child of the yuletide family. Ha Ha. These are My Top 5 Favorite Appearances from Jack Skellington!

5. Pumpkin King AND The Battle For Pumpkin King.

Not only are the titles of these two pieces similar, but so are their purposes. “Pumpkin King” was a video game tie-in to TNBC, which acted as a prequel to the movie. It was released in 2005. Nearly two decades later, in 2023, Disney would release ANOTHER prequel spin-off, in the form of “The Battle For Pumpkin King;” a comic miniseries later reformatted into a graphic novel. Both of these prequels tell the story of how the rivalry between Jack and his arch-nemesis, Oogie Boogie, got started, each with their own unique twists to the concept. As far as the game goes, playing as Jack Skellington - using a variety of crazy gadgets to defeat Oogie and his goons - is obviously a major part of what makes the title appealing. The comic, meanwhile, goes even further in showing how Jack became the Pumpkin King to begin with, and presents a more dramatic and tragic arc for the two enemies, in my opinion. Having read and re-read the comic a couple times now, and compared it to the game…I don’t think either is really a perfect prequel. Each has their own pros and cons, in terms of how things started between the two and how they tie into the film itself. However, one thing I like about both is that each has a different spin on presenting Jack and setting up the character we know from the movie: in each tale, the conflict with Oogie results in some subtle foreshadowing and parallels to the misadventures Jack faces in the film. I’d recommend checking both out, in some form or another, and deciding which you prefer yourself.

4. Twisted Wonderland.

Well, if you know me, you knew this had to be coming. I was over the moon when this Event was announced for the mobile game “Twisted Wonderland”: a game that is admittedly an acquired taste, but which I absolutely love to bits. For those who don’t know already, the premise of the game has the main character - the Player - being transported to an alternate universe, where they find themselves at a school of magic inspired by seven famous Disney Villains. Throughout the game, we encounter various characters based on these villains, along with other Disney characters…but it’s rare that we actually meet any of the original Disney figures themselves. When the Nightmare Before Christmas-themed Event for Halloween of 2024 - entitled “Lost in the Book with Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas” - was announced, it wasn’t too much of a surprise to learn that a new character would be introduced in the event: Skully J. Graves, based on Jack Skellington. What was much more startling was when we found out that not only would we get this new addition to the cast…but that the player and their allies for the outing would be traveling to Halloween Town itself to meet the ACTUAL Jack Skellington AT THE SAME TIME. For me, this was just mind-boggling: getting to see both the actual Jack AND a new character inspired by him in the same Event at the same time was never something I anticipated. The result did not disappoint: Jack is totally and completely in-character for the Event, and his interactions with the students of Night Raven College are a lot of fun. Skully, as well, is a very interesting character, and the twist about his true identity at the end was, I will confess, certainly unexpected. This isn’t an example that I imagine a lot of TNBC fans would place among their absolute favorite appearances for Jack, but it’s definitely a big one for me.

3. Haunted Mansion Holiday.

This was Nightmare’s big arrival at the Parks, and it’s still one of the best things to come out of the film’s ever-rising popularity. In the early 2000s, Imagineers at Disneyland considered making a “Nightmare Before Christmas” attraction, but they weren’t sure how to go about it. The answer came in the form of a holiday overlay for the popular “Haunted Mansion” ride: ever since then, for a whole third of the year (almost half a year, if you count the time it takes to set it all up and then take it all down again), the Haunted Mansion is invaded by Jack Skellington and the denizens of Halloween Town, as they bring their own twisted Christmas delight to the home of the 999 Happy Haunts. While some people seem divided about this since-then-annual change to the famous attraction, most seem to enjoy both versions of the Haunted Mansion, and I am in agreement: the original ride is great on its own, and deserves to be enjoyed on its own terms (it’s my favorite ride at Disneyland), but the Holiday version with the TNBC cast is really fun and charming, too. Arguably the biggest highlight of the ride is Jack himself, most notably in the form of a magnificently-made animatronic of our favorite “Sandy Claws” that greets guests as they enter the graveyard for the ride’s finale. I used to be OBSESSED with this overlay, and I still love it a lot. I’m not the only one, either; the Holiday version remains popular, and has even been adopted into the Tokyo Disneyland Park. Japan has a huge following for TNBC…speaking of which…

2. Oogie’s Revenge.

Released at the same time as the aforementioned “Pumpkin King,” this game (originally made in Japan, hence the segue) was a SEQUEL to the movie. And, just like “Pumpkin King,” it was considered canon by a lot of people for a long time, until recent printed work left that more ambiguous. (In this case a novel called “Long Live the Pumpkin Queen,” which I’ve yet to read.) The plot begins a little less than a year after the events of the film: Jack still feels dissatisfied with Halloween, but he’s thankfully learned that taking over other holidays is not a good idea. So, he instead ventures forth into the real world for a couple of months to basically do some brainstorming and find some inspiration to make his own holiday more interesting. When Jack returns (on Christmas Eve, what a shock), he discovers that Oogie Boogie has been resurrected and has taken over Halloween Town! When he learns that Oogie has plans to get revenge on Santa and become “The Seven Holidays King,” Jack has to find a way to take back his throne and undo all of Oogie’s evil schemes before Christmas morning. As far as Jack himself goes, the great boon this game has is the option of actually playing as Jack Skellington himself, and getting to use different forms of him with different powers to combat Oogie and his minions. Chris Sarandon - who has provided Jack’s speaking voice since the original film, and gets to SING for him, too, in this game (he ain’t half bad, either) - delivers all of the moods and sides of Jack throughout the story with his usual enthusiasm, and the chance to explore Halloween Town in such wild depth is really fun. The game itself seems to be one people love or hate; most agree it’s not the greatest game in the world (though most agree it’s also not terrible), but it seems to be a 50/50 split between people who overlook its flaws and enjoy it, and people who feel it’s a lackluster and overly bizarre spin-off to a classic picture. Personally, while I do see some issues with “Oogie’s Revenge,” I’ve always had a soft spot for this game, and I still do. It’s definitely one of Jack’s shining moments, in my personal opinion.

1. Kingdom Hearts.

Given my love of the KH series as a whole, a lot of you probably saw this coming. However, I actually had a really hard time choosing between these games and “Oogie’s Revenge.” The greatest pro of “Oogie’s Revenge” is that Jack is the main character: you spend a lot of time with him, it’s all his story, and Chris Sarandon gets to sing as well as provide the voice in general. However, I think that - despite the fact Jack and his pals in Halloween Town (and Christmas Town) are only one small part of a much grander puzzle - the Kingdom Hearts series actually handles the character and his world slightly better…mostly just because of the writing. (And because they are better games, in general, when you really get down to it.) As far as Jack himself goes…honestly, I love how absolutely ADORABLE Jack is in the Kingdom Hearts universe. (How many undead skeletons can you call “adorable,” anyway? At the moment, I can only think of maybe four others…which is still a surprising number, honestly!) The games really lean hard into Jack’s childlike, exuberant, impulsive personality, but they also still give him elegance, charisma, and even touch onto a philosophical side we really haven’t seen anywhere else. Some of my favorite lines and moments in the games come from Jack, and of all the Disney allies Sora makes along the way, I think I enjoy his interactions with the Pumpkin King most of all. (He also isn’t too bad of a Party Member.) Sarandon delivers here just as powerfully as in Oogie’s Revenge, and a lot of the story-based elements I love about Jack’s character arc in OR are just as present in these games. Overall, while he may not be the star of the show, Jack is certainly a major highlight of these games. For me, and hopefully for many others, Kingdom Hearts will always be a shining moment in the King of Halloween’s career. It’s not an easy call, to be honest…but I’m gonna name Kingdom Hearts as My Favorite Appearance from Jack Skellington.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

James and the Giant Peach.

While this is a totally non-canon appearance, Jack cameos as the leader of a band of skeleton pirates in this cult classic adaptation of the Roald Dahl story. I have no idea if this decision was made because of budget reasons or because Henry Selick (director of both TNBC and this film) was in a whimsical mood, but either way, it’s such a weird but fun one-off return.

Disney’s Not-So-Spooky Spectacular.

A fireworks show performed around Halloweentime at the Magic Kingdom in Walt Disney World. Jack acts as the host of the event, portrayed by a life-sized and absolutely immaculate puppet, crewed by multiple performers. This puppet has appeared in several other places since, including one of the “Nightmare Before Christmas Live” concerts!

What’s This? The Nightmare Before Christmas Sing-Along.

Performed every Christmastime at Disney’s Hollywood-MGM Studios, this combination of stage pantomime and sing-along concert to some of the songs from the film is hosted by Jack. Our favorite Pumpkin King is played by the same great puppet that appears in the “Not-So-Spooky Spectacular” fireworks show!

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 1: Ghost hunting - Multi!Muse x Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Well, ghosts, death, the afterlife, anxiety, PTSD

Type: Blerps

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: How they would react to going/how they’d feel/what it would be like to ghost hunting with the reader

Notes: Happy first day of Halloween! I wrote this as a blurb, following how they would react/be like to ghost hunting with the reader.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, doesn’t see the point in it. He’s super lost and doesn’t really know what to do or what he’s looking at. Not to mention he absolutely DESPISES the white box. Flinches anytime it turns on. Kind of just dives in head first to everything, quite literally. Jason would eventually get frustrated with you, at some point, mainly when you would keep hearing things, or seeing things. You thought you would’ve caught them on camera by now, but it’s actually the complete opposite. Overall, could be a very stressful situation for both of you.

Michael Myers: Could not care less. Still follows you though. Kind of just sides eye you as you cling onto his sleeve. Walks in first to any room, as usual. Not a fan of the spider webs, it’s probably the only time you’ve seem him visibly annoyed. Another first in seeing his shoulders sort of slouch over. You swear you could even hear an audible sigh coming from underneath his mask, there’s no one to follow, only shadows. Thinks your rituals of white noise and outrageous flashlights is pointless but on the plus side, he kind of just “walks” through the spiderwebs for you.

Tiffany Valentine: Super excited to go ghost hunting with you. It’s about time to take some kind of adrenaline rush! She LOVES contacting the other side, good or evil. She would absolutely take the lead and pull up all the stops of the most haunted places in the area. Tiffany may even go as far as booking tickets to infamous haunted mansions and abandoned buildings. She looks into different manuals, both old and new, she’d buy and steal all sorts of gadgets and anything that could be used for any rituals for you both to catch a ghost. She laughs when the lights go out or things start flying and hitting the walls, disregarding your fear, if you have any.

Billy Loomis: Kind of thinks the idea is lame at first, but after you seem to be very intrigued, at some point Billy wants to get involved. He’s kind of quiet about it at first with a very much “sure thing kitten, whatever you want” attitude. Billy takes the liberty of just watching you as you set everything up, make notes and doodle on all kinds of maps. At first you think Billy isn’t really paying attention, but when he follows you, you couldn’t help but notice he actually knows how to turn on the white noise box. It’s kind of cute, and not to mention, you are more than welcome to hide behind him if anything gets too scary for you.

Stu Macher: LOVES the idea of ghost hunting, will look into the scariest of places in the area. Asylums, jails, schools are his specialty. You’re kind of taken by surprise with how much he becomes hands on with these adventures. Before you’d know it, Stu would take the lead, flashing the light as you follow him through the grim halls of the abandoned buildings. Of course, he’d act like the light went out, losing you in the process, only to flash the light to your face making you scream, frightening almost any remaining living creature in that place, followed by Stu’s belly laughter. Almost no “real” ghost hunting would get done with this guy, you’d probably be chased out by a curtesy officer before you could sit in a room to make any contact with the other side.

Patrick Bateman: Doesn’t entertain the idea for long, he kind of just stares at you when you go on about the adventures you want to take during this season. He understands it to an extent, but it seems meaningless. Not to mention, he’s possibly more athiest than anything, never with the hope of an afterlife. Patrick would rather go where there were violent deaths, places of execution and torture he’d try to convince you “you’ll find whatever you’re looking for, there.” If you could settle then great, if not, then tough luck. There’s a fifty fifty chance you’d be able to drag him with you if you wanted, but that would depend on his relationship with you. Still thinks the ritual of Halloween is silly and meaningless and yes that includes ghost hunting.

Leatherface: Likes the idea of ghost hunting. he doesn’t really understand it at first. Bubba has an innocent way of looking at ghosts, thinking they’re silly and just the kind extension of another human. Once you tell him about the anger and the sadness some of the ghosts carry at times, you can tell he’s a little bit spooked. He’d ask you questions of the afterlife and everything you’d know about ghosts. Maybe start him off small, little haunted cafes, he’d catch on very quickly and learn how to defend himself and you, he’d become a great ghost hunter with the proper guidance.

Harley Quinn: THE BEST GHOST HUNTER. Harley’s so into it! I bet you she has the equipment already. Super enthusiastic and entirely fearless, Harley will not hesitate to protect you whether you need it or not. She’d take the initiative to look into haunted places for you, persistent until you guys find something. Harley’s so goofy, wearing night vision goggles, carrying around a backpack with all kinds of equipment, flashlights, batteries. She’d be messing with whatever you find at the room and ends up making a mess or scaring you half to death, followed by her wide smile and mouthing a non-apologetic “sorry”

Poison Ivy: Not too big on the idea of ghost hunting, but will entertain the idea. You’d have to bribe her into taking you ghost hunting. She mostly wants to make sure you were okay and what better way to make sure you’re okay than to take you herself. Pamela isn’t scared too easily, she certainly hates walking into spiderwebs though. If you’re afraid of everything, she’d scold you just a tiny bit, laughing it off after seeing your terrified expression. You’d forget batteries or chargers or certain little essential things, but your beloved Ivy would have it in her hand, looking to you with a sly smile. Even ghost hunting she seemed to be the one who knew the most.

Bruce Wayne: His first reaction would be “absolutely not” he’s not doing that, why would he? Of course he’s seen many things but ghosts? It just seems like a dull pastime, but when he sees your discouragement, it definitely tugs at his heart strings. Before you know it he’s waking you up at 1 am, packing your bag because you’re going to go investigate an abandoned jail notorious for ghostly activities. He has all the gadgets, why shouldn’t he take you? Also, if there’s nothing you find after hours and hours of looking, I wouldn’t put it past Bruce to move some stuff around or work his bat magic to get you excited about your adventure with him.

Jason Todd: Absolutely down for anything. “Woah, are you sure about that? You’re not going to hide behind me the whole time?” Jason would absolutely tease you nonstop about being scared of ghosts. “I’m not scared, I respect them” “sure whatever you say doll.” He’d let you believe you’re leading them both, following your advice as to what to take, where to go, what to do. Of course his main job is to take care of the spooky spiderwebs for you. Once you get to your destination, it’s nothing like you imagined. Tucking yourself into Jason’s jacket, it kind of makes his heart flutter, after all this time, whether it’s goons or creeps or ghosts, you constantly feel safest tucking yourself into him.

Billy Hargrove: He’s kind of a little unsure at first, not knowing exactly what you wanted to do or why. Billy likes Halloween, but his idea of a Halloween date considers a movie night, going to house parties. but not spending it alone and in an abandoned hospital or building trying to connect with the other world. He’s intrigued to say the least. If Billy learned anything throughout his years is that if a woman has made a decision of a date, it’s better to go with it. Billy is a little bit more scared than he would like to admit, he’s more on edge than you, but that doesn’t mean he’d only fend for himself. If you both get scared at a noise together, or get out of the way of a ceiling tile falling through, he’d instinctively pull you towards him, covering you with his body where he could. Sooner or later, this would become a thrill for him, wanting to go to more places with you even further out of the town of Hawkins.

Steve Harrington: He’d be hesitant, put up a little bit more of a fight than most characters. Suggesting to go to the movies, or go trick or treating, to a carnival, anything else. You’d make a deal with him, you could go to the carnival, or a house party or trick or treating, whatever he’d like as long as he went with you to cross through that abandoned slaughter house. Steve wouldn’t hesitate to tell you maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, but if you’d insist, he’d take you. He’d rather it’d be him that would go with you than anyone else. Like Billy, he’d be protective of you, but unlike Billy, his priority would be to make sure you were okay, not finding ghosts.

Steve Rogers: He’d be up for it, to your surprise, as long as you weren’t going to bother the ghosts, Steve wouldn’t mind taking a walk around said haunted area in hopes of finding proof of an actual after-life. Of course, he’d be your big body guard, ready and apt to be hidden behind. Steve wouldn’t fall victim easily to the jump scares, not as much as you would at least. There’d be times where Steve would try to hold in his laugh at how cute you look clinging onto his sleeve when you thought you’d heard a noise. Of course he wouldn’t hesitate to remind you that this was your idea after all. 

Bucky Barnes: Kind of isn’t down for it. I feel like this would be crossing a line for him of some sort. He’d beg you not to do it, trying to compromise by doing other activities he’s not so fond of, like baking or going to a Halloween party. Bucky would for sure try to sweet talk you out of it if your heart is set on it, explaining to you that maybe it’d be better to let the souls rest. If you’d sneak out then Bucky of course would track you down, finding you easily and of course it’d be at a time where you were stuck somewhere or lost. Here comes Bucky, not even having to tell you “I told you so” or anything but still, you can tell yourself that he told you so.

Wanda Maximoff: Kind of like Steve, she’d be up for it. Wanda would be curious about the after life at times, what harm would it be if you guys were just looking? There was an adrenaline rush in this hobby of yours and Wanda knew it. It’d become a great feeling for her. She’d look for places on her own time, suggesting new methods and ideas of where to go next. You’d be able to even start your own scrapbook of ghost hunting adventures together. Wanda made you promise each other not to go without each other, both for your safety and also because she liked it just as much as you do.

Loki Laufeyson: Kind of laughs about it, but then sees that you’re serious. He actually has quite a bit of knowledge on spirits and those who live in the other world. Loki would be delighted to enlighten you on said topics. He’d advise you not to go disturb them though. If you absolutely insist, or go without telling him, he’d find you just in time before you’d fall down the second floor or down the stairs into a pretty serious accident. There would be a silent “I told you so” moment, but he’d still smother you and comfort you endlessly. So, preferably an at home Halloween date would be more ideal with him.

Cloud Strife: Doesn’t understand why you’d want to do anything like that at all. He just overall doesn’t understand it and honestly he doesn’t really want to. That doesn’t mean he won’t go with you though, he will. Cloud isn’t the best at jump scares, constantly ready to fight whatever surprises you both on the way. This wouldn’t really help his PTSD or anxiety, so maybe it’s best to forget the ghost hunting and maybe read about it instead. 

Aerith Gainsborough: Kind of scared of ghosts? But also so excited about them as well. She loves anything that looks remotely creepy or enchanting, telling you constantly “You should give them a chance” Aerith truly knows how to find the beauty in everything and if it’s anyone that could convince you to find the beauty in a beaten up spiderweb infested home, it’s Aerith. She’s terribly empathetic towards the lives who have ascended your reality, often wanting to get to the bottom of their story and could sit there with you for hours trying to figure out what they’re trying to tell you two.

Sebastian Michaelis: Won’t entertain it. Sebastian is not a fan, if it’s not an actual threat to you or himself, he finds it to “just be another creature” It’s amusing how nonchalant Sebastian is in the presence of a ghost, not caring for their story or their past. If you wanted to know, he would tell you still. Sebastian wouldn’t mind explaining to you the history of souls and where they wander, how they came to be and the whole ordeal. Hopefully it would suit your curiosity enough to keep you from trying to hunt them down. 

Spencer Reid: Soooo down. He’s probably the one that suggested it in the first place. Spencer already has a map of all the said haunted locations in town, he’d even color code them to coordinate where you’d go to first. Spencer would love to keep a scrapbook of different notes, pictures and whatever “evidence” you both find regarding the souls you’ve encountered. There would be times too where Spencer could be out of town on a case, he’d promise you to go to the nearest creepiest or most haunted house in town and take pictures to add to your scrapbook. Nevertheless, the most immersive s/o on this list to go ghost hunting with!

[gunnerfc]

🎄WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 16 - Alex Greenwood🎄

Alex Greenwood x Reader (Man City & Matildas) | WC: 1168

Dec. 16 prompt - winter proposal

-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!

You loved that you got to play your club football in Manchester with your girlfriend, Alex. You had been teammates previously at Lyon in 2019, which was the same year you started dating. Now four years later and your relationship was as strong as ever. 

Christmas time was always a fun time since you were given time off to celebrate with your families. This year, your family were coming to England to celebrate with you and Alex, as well as her family. It felt nice to have everyone that meant the world to you in the same place. Especially considering the question you were planning on asking Alex.

You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with the defender and what better way to propose than during the magical Christmas season? You had gone back and forth with how you wanted to propose before landing on a having a Christmas date night. 

The date was at the Royal Albert Dock to walk around the light trail that was lit up with Christmas lights. You took your time as you took in the lights, though your mind was focused on the small box resting in your coat pocket. Your fingers were laced with the blonde’s as you strolled down the dock.

Your eyes fell on the blonde as you walked, watching the lights reflect across her face. You were too focused to realize Alex had come to a stop, pulling you to a halt.

“You okay?” the defender asked when you stopped walking and turned to face her fully.

Your expression must have matched your confusion at her question. With a raised eyebrow, you responded, “Yeah? Why do you ask?” 

“You just seem nervous and you weren’t really payin’ attention,” Alex shrugged but you could hear the concern in her voice.

You took in a big breath before directing your eyes away from the defender. You tried to collect your thoughts, but you weren't at the specific location you wanted to propose and you didnt want to give anything away just yet.

Your eyes locked with Alex’s once again, a small smile on your face. “I'm good, I promise. Just thinking about some things,” you reassured.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me y’know?” your girlfriend smiled as she took your hand again to continue walking.

You mumbled an “I know” before giving her a quick kiss on her cheek which earned you a bright smile in response. As you kept walking, the ring box felt like it was getting heavier. You knew needed to propose sooner rather than later. 

There was a small pier that was off the trial but still close enough that the lights could still be seen. It was Alex’s turn to be confused as you turned away from the trail and opted to go in the other direction. The blonde didn’t question when you led her to the nearby pier, knowing that you must have a reason for being there.

Your left hand played with the box in your pocket as you came to a stop, turning to lean your back slightly on the railing. You took a deep breath as you tried to remember the short speech you had prepared but you had seemingly forgotten everything now that you were about to say it.

“I had this whole speech prepared but… now that I'm standing here, I can’t remember any of it,” you lightly laughed, not wanting to feel so nervous about asking Alex to marry you even though it was a big step you would be making.

Alex didn’t try to interrupt you to ask what you meant, she could sense how nervous you were and wanted to let you say what you needed. Instead, she opted to take a step closer to you and reached out to hold your free right hand, squeezing it lightly as a show of comfort.

You looked up from the ground in front of you, locking eyes with the blonde which seemed to give you a sense of confidence. 

“Joining Lyon four years ago was one of scariest moments of my life, I didn’t know what to expect being so far away from home in a new country that spoke a language I didn’t understand. Then, I met you and things weren’t as scary. I was so nervous asking you out after that game, but when you said yes, I felt like I was on top of the world.” you paused to catch your breath, Alex’s eyes never left yours as you spoke. 

“Then when you were offered a spot at City I was so happy for you even if meant we would be apart but then they offered me a contract and it was one of the easiest decisions I ever had to make. I would have been fine with the distance but I had the opportunity to be in the same city with you again and I couldn’t pass it up. “ as you spoke, you pulled the box from your coat pocket.

“I love being in Manchester with but it doesn’t matter what city we’re in, as long as I'm with you, I'll be happy. That’s why I wanted to ask you something,” you finished your improved speech as you lowered to your knee, opening the small box as you did so.

You held Alex’s left hand tightly in yours as you did so, Alex could feel herself holding in a breath as she knew what question you were about to ask.

“Alex..” you breathed, your nerves left your body as you felt the blonde’s hand in yours. “Will you marry me?” 

Alex nodded at first before a whispered “yes” left her mouth. You stood quickly, wrapping your arms around her waist as your lips met hers. Your lips moved against each other passionately, the love you felt for each other showing in the kiss.

You pulled away when you remembered the ring that was in the box you were holding. You pulled the ring from the box, moving it onto Alex’s ring finger. You put the box back in your coat pocket, your arms once again wrapping around Alex’s waist. Alex’s arms wrapped around your neck, her eyes locking with yours and you could the love she had for you in her eyes.

“I’m so in love you with,” you muttered as you leaned in to give the blonde another kiss, this one more heated than the first. You two stayed in the spot on the pier, not wanting to leave just yet.

When you pulled away, Alex whispered “I love you” against your lips before you were out of reach. Reluctantly you took her hand to start walking back to the Christmas light trial, though you did debate not finishing it and instead heading back to the parking lot. You once again felt like you were on top of the world as you felt the ring on her hand pressed against your own as you held her hand tightly.

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

I’m now halfway through The Magnus Archives’ 1st season, so I thought it would be cool to just post my thoughts on each episode so far :). (Spoilers, I like all of them, and this podcast is going to be all I care about for a while.) Also NO SPOILERS PLEASE!!!

Link to Masterpost (contains all of these thought posts)

- Episode 1, Anglerfish 🚬

Statement of Nathan Watts, regarding an encounter on Old Fishmarket Close, Edinburgh.

Really strong start, not the scariest episode so far but definitely unnerving, and it gives a good first impression and layer of intrigue. While the story is simple in comparison to the later ones, it was still enjoyable, and I was just appreciating the atmosphere and framing device of the episode as well.

- Episode 2, Do Not Open ⚰️

Statement of Joshua Gillespie, regarding his time in the possession of an apparently empty wooden casket.

This is still one of my favorites. The whole time I was on edge, and this was the first episode that really kept me up at night. I went from wanting to know what was inside the coffin desperately, to wanting to stay away from it as much as possible. Joshua’s insuring dread and creative solution to his problems was fantastic, and it ends with some intriguing plot threads being set up.

- Episode 3, Across The Street 📓

Statement of Amy Patel, regarding the alleged disappearance of her acquaintance Graham Folger.

I think I share a common sentiment when I say that Amy stalking Graham was almost as creepy as the actual horror lmao. Overall I don’t have that much to say about this one, but it was very enjoyable, and I feel really bad for Graham in retrospect :(.

- Episode 4, Pageturner 📕

Statement of Dominic Swain, regarding a book briefly in his possession in the winter of 2012.

I…feel like I should hold off on talking about this one for now. While it was definitely well written and creepy, it just seems to be so full of setup for future plot lines that I almost don’t feel like I can form a concise opinion on it until I really get what’s going on. Honestly, my only complaint with this episode is that maybe it’s setting up TOO much in one go, but I still had a good time with it overall.

- Episode 5, Thrown Away 🗑️

Statement of Kieran Woodward, regarding items recovered from the refuse of 93 Lancaster Road, Walthamstowe.

This one actually did a pretty good job at getting me to think about waste disposal workers lmao, I never really thought about them like that before. This one was just really creepy, but also kind of fun in a weird twisted way. It did a great job keeping me on edge as well.

- Episode 6, Squirm 🪱

Statement of Timothy Hodge, regarding his sexual encounter with Harriet Lee and her subsequent death.

I am simultaneously horrified, and unfortunately aroused by what happened here.

- Episode 7, The Piper 🔫

Statement of Staff Sgt. Clarence Berry, regarding his time serving with Wilfred Owen in the Great War.

Having an episode set nearly 100 years ago is a really fun idea, and it’s executed perfectly here. It was interesting how it also featured a real person, and I liked how the paranormal activity felt more metaphorical here, it really did feel like it was showcasing the horror of war.

- Episode 8, Burned Out 🌳

Statement of Ivo Lensik, regarding his experiences during the construction of a house on Hill Top Road, Oxford.

I found this one to be very nerve-wracking, since not only was the whole scenario with the tree just, like…three creepy things happening at once, but the fact that the statement was given by someone with schizophrenia did a good job making me question it’s validity, even though I’m certain it’s true after listening to a later statement. I also hope that I get to see how the history of the house is unveiled in the future.

- Episode 9, A Father’s Love 💡

Statement of Julia Montauk, regarding the actions and motivations of her father, the serial killer Robert Montauk.

This one made me feel really sad :(. I really felt Julia’s despair in this one (Jonathan Sims does such great voice acting for every statement btw, both the character and the actual person), and I was even more saddened by the implications of why Robert did what he did. If my assumptions are correct, then…SCREW THE MOTHER! It was also the first one that got me thinking about where exactly all of the paranormal stuff comes from, and later episodes only add to my theory that it’s all due to demons/cults/higher powers.

- Episode 10, Vampire Killer 🧛🏻

Statement of Trevor Herbert, regarding his life as a self-proclaimed vampire hunter.

Much like Episode 8, this one did a really good job at making me question the validity of the statement, although I became more sure of its truth a bit earlier. I also just love how nonchalant Trevor comes off as, compared to all of the other traumatized horror victims. (Also, I’m guessing that the name Trevor and the episode title are meant to be a Castlevania reference?) While vampires aren’t the most creative thing for an episode, at least in comparison to everything else, the beast-like execution here more than made up for it in my opinion.

- Episode 11, Dreamer 💭

Statement of Antonio Blake, regarding his recent dreams about Gertrude Robinson, previous Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

Yeah…Gertrude Robinson did not die a normal death. My guess is that she was caught by ✨the horrors✨, but I’ll wait and see. This was another very tense episode, with the prophetic dream world being really, REALLY creepy. I do hope we get to see more of “Antonio” in the future, as I think he could be quite important. (I also hope he gets punched for DUMPING GRAHAM IN HIS TIME OF NEED-)

- Episode 12, First Aid 🏥

Statement of Lesere Saraki, regarding a recent night-shift at St. Thomas Hospital, London.

OMG GERARD KEAY HI HI HI HI HOW ARE YOU!!! Yeah I audibly gasped when he showed up again, it was such a cool moment. Anyways, hospitals already creep me the fuck out so this was pretty effective. Definitely some great setup here, and it helped to make a bit more sense of Pageturner, now that I have a better idea of what Gerard’s whole deal is. It also added some good fuel to the whole cult idea, and my god this poor nurse. Having to deal with all of this in a single night sounds like hell.

- Episode 13, Alone 🌫️

Statement of Naomi Herne, regarding the events following the funeral of her fiancé, Evan Lukas. Statement taken direct from subject.

Having a new voice in this episode was really cool, and Katie Davison did an excellent job as Naomi! It was also cool to see how Jon interacts with other people, he was…nicer than expected. This episode honestly felt like it was calling me out, as I am also someone who’s confident in my independence, but if I was in Naomi’s place I would also probably be scared shitless. I really hope she’ll get a happy ending :(. Also, The Lukas family is quite intriguing, especially since we now know they have a connection to The Institute…

- Episode 14, Piecemeal 👆

Statement of Lee Rentoul, regarding the murder of his associate Paul Noriega.

Firstly, this is probably my favorite of Jon’s vocal deliveries. His performance of Lee Rentoul just feels perfect. (Once again, this applies to both the writer and the character, I’m genuinely convinced the latter is an ex-theatre kid.) Outside of that, THIS ONE CREEPED ME OUT. The body horror was very effective, with the only thing holding it back being the fact that Lee isn’t the most likable protagonist in the podcast, but if this happened to someone else I’d be even more upset. Still though, it was a very creative concept, and the whole vibe and execution of the episode made it great.

- Episode 15, Lost Johns’ Cave 🕯️

Statement of Laura Popham, regarding her experience exploring the Three Counties System of caves with her sister Alena Sanderson.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fu-

- Episode 16, Arachnophobia 🕷️

Statement of Carlos Vittery, regarding his arachnophobia and its manifestations.

The way they tackled the concept in the title was really well done. Arachnophobia is seen as an irrational fear by a lot of people, so having it portrayed as an effect of childhood trauma was a good call. And as someone who is not arachnophobic, this episode got me close to feeling that way. What ever force was making Carlos relive his trauma is a sick fuck. Also the cat was a real one, glad he survived the whole situation. (Also THE WORMS, HOLY SHIT IT’S THE SEX WORMS!!!)

- Episode 17, The Boneturner’s Tale 🦴

Statement of Sebastian Adekoya, regarding a new acquisition at Chiswick Library.

This episode really compelled me to get out the rubber bands connecting images lmao. I really liked all of the connections to past statements here, like the presence of another book from the library of Jurgen Leitner, to the mention of Micheal Crew. The body horror here was once again very creepy, (outside of the flat rat, that was morbidly funny), but my favorite part of the episode was the introduction of Elias, which was a humorous, but also very intriguing scene. Also, the themes of books containing power was great as well. Great stuff all around.

- Episode 18, The Man Upstairs 🥩

Statement of Christof Rudenko, regarding his interactions with a first floor resident of Welbeck House, Wandsworth.

…ew. Ok in all seriousness, this is probably my least favorite episode so far. Still very far from bad, but after all of the extremely interesting themes and plot threads, having an episode where the idea was just “What if a guy had a house covered in meat? Wouldn’t that be fucked up?”, felt just a little bit underwhelming. Which like, the fact that my least favorite episode’s biggest problem is that I find it slightly pales in comparison to previous ones is just a testament to how much I’ve been enjoying the podcast. Still though, there were definitely a few things I really liked. The reveal of the room was creepy (especially considering the meat that seemed…alive…), and as someone who has had to deal with upstairs neighbors making noise for hours during construction, this episode definitely scared me.

- Episode 19, Confession, and Episode 20, Desecrated Host ✝️

Statement of Father Edwin Burroughs, regarding his claimed demonic possession.

This, alongside Lost Johns’ Cave, was one (or I guess, two…) of those episodes that seriously fucked me up. While I am not religious, I have always had fears of how religion can negatively affect me and the people around me, despite the good that it seems to do for so many people. So seeing Edwin be charged for every “sin” he committed by a higher power that wishes to steal its faith, and then not get judged by it, but by the people around him for his one true sin, was absolutely haunting, and I hope he turns out ok in the end. Outside of the horror, the episodes were fantastic. Listening to the events of Episode 8 from Edwin’s perspective, and seeing how Ivo’s actions saved him, was really cool, and solidifies in my mind that Ivo’s experience was real. The connections to demonic magic and Latin script thickened, and it was overall just a great mid-season finale. In conclusion, I hope that Martin feels better soon, and if he isn’t actually sick and is being plagued by ✨the horrors✨, well then I hope he survives :).

Thank you for reading my silly little thoughts if you’ve made it this far, it really means a lot to me :). I’ll probably update this every time I finish half of a season, so hopefully my thoughts on episodes 21-40 will be here in the Reblogs soon. :)

[chronoslovers]

the suckening episode 13 spoilers

first of all, so so happy that there's a season 2! as the episode was coming to a close i was feeling super bittersweet as i felt that there was a lot that hadn't been resolved, so glad this series is getting a second season as it totally deserves it! it's been my first jrwi campaign so it's very dear to me.

second of all, shilo. sweet sweet shilo. god how i've loved his arc this season. the difference between the shilo of episode 1 and 13 is palpable. what i especially loved was shilo coming to terms with empathy - facing the consequences of the old peoples home directly during the games. that entire scene with ben's death was genuinely heartbreaking, what a brilliant moment to show that yes, your actions actively hurt people around you.

i've always believed for shilo to be kind, i think it's in his nature as a person. but his lack of empathy for others held him back. he went from basically sending castle guards to their deaths to attempting to make ben's death as pleasant as possible, using his own abilities for the sake of others instead of his own personal gain. this is something i'd really love to see explored further during season 2, can definitely see the parallels with emizel here with his note at the end of the session. both have used people like they were pawns (love the literal example of this with the card planning 'board' in the motel), and are coming to terms with this. the fact that the final track from the session is called 'absence of reflection' really sums this up for the both of them. they really struggled to reflect on their own actions for the majority of this season.

yet shilo has also been fighting for his own agency, this has already been discussed by others so i'll keep in brief. shilo was a pawn for edward from the very beginning, and honestly to a lesser extent for arthur too. he's constantly used for his title and connection to the queen unwillingly, others seeking to access the power that he has. during this season we've really seen shilo attempt to break free from this, to make his own choices as he learns more about the outside world and overcomes some of his naïvety that's honestly no fault of his own. i'd need to make a whole separate post for his relationship with edward but he was only ever seen as a stepping stone to power.

of course arthur is scary, both physically now and in his abilities from the start of the campaign. but in this finale honestly i found shilo the scariest. his spell against edward that ultimately finishes the fight, the way he conducted himself in that moment, the loss of his innocence merit all made for such a wonderful scene that really shows how far shilo has come. he's always commanded people, he's not the best at physical combat but Words, that's nothing the other two pcs have much power with. the power to change someone's appearance to 0 and impact their social stats is such an insane amount of power, and i really hope this is the direction shilo heads down next season. combined with emizel's lives and physical combat skills they make a really scary duo.

summing things up, i really really love shilo. his arc has been incredible and i'm overjoyed that we will be seeing more of him as his story definitely isn't over. i'm glad we will probably get to learn more about his birth and his thoughts on that, guys they're so cain and abel. but yeah. brilliant finale to a wonderful season!

[ferdieinceladoncity]

I have two million circling thoughts about 'milagro' and no confidence that I can get them out of my head, but it was so intensely interesting I feel like I have to try.

First of all, the most "this was quite obviously written by a man with little to no care or understanding of Not being a man" episode that I have seen so far. To the point that it smacks me over the head. No woman would act like this: you would run, so so far, the second a guy like that entered an elevator with you.

The scene in the church is incredible in terms of how it was acted. The resigned realisation of "god, he's that kind of creep. That's the kind of man he is. He's infatuated with me." the way she starts to cry, overwhelmed with the emotion of it all- the fear, knowing she's in very real danger. It hit me right in the gut.

I do understand what they were aiming with in terms of her character and her infatuation with Padgett. It's not news that Scully is a little bit fucked in the head (as kind as I can put it) and morbid curiosity drew her to his apartment (and, putting her possibly in the running for Stupidest Person ever, self destructive tendencies or not, drinks something he makes her) but the whole scene is almost *too* much. Like. Scully. You cannot be doing this. Possibly the actual scariest/most infuriating scene in the x-files that I've seen.

Then again, I keep yelling that there's no way any woman would be foolish enough to act like this, but she's not a very normal woman. Sorry, it's true. She runs headfirst into these moments of possible self-destruction stemming from her own severe insecurities over whatever her relationship is with Mulder, the circumstances and uncertainty and longevity of which would probably drive *me* a little crazy, especially off the tail end of all the drama of season 6, Diana and all that. I'll do this, I'll get myself into this awful situation, and maybe you'll have something to say about it.

To that end, I'm at odds with wether this is really so 'out of character' or not. I hate to see it. But it makes sense. We can't all be perfect and we certainly can't all make good choices.

Mulder in this episode (because I feel like I should dedicate a paragraph to him even though he's not front and centre) disappoints me a bit. I have at this point read a lot of other reviews of this episode on Tumblr and reddit and heard people praise how "protective" he was, "jealous" was a word used, and generally a lot of focus on the shippiness of this episode, to which I can't agree. He infuriated me just a little. I appreciate that he was down to slap Padgett in the cell and I appreciate that he went to the effort of stealing letters to find his name and all, yet when Scully first talks to him about Padgett after the church scene, telling him he's the one who gave her the milagro and he was frightening, all he has to ask is "do you think he's the killer?" not "are you okay" or anything of the sort. Yes, I know Scully's not the kind of person to really appreciate that. She can hold her own, or she'd like him to think so. Still. From *my* perspective, and this is *my* write-up, and *my* Tumblr blog. And I think it's a bothersome thing to say. Also, I roll my eyes at mulder referring to sex as "the naked pretzel." What's with this guy and censoring himself like he's writing a tiktok comment? Actually, between this and "the wild thing" back in genderbender, maybe he just has some crazy hang-up about referring to scully having a sexual encounter (real or imagined) in a serious context. Interesting.

...That paragraph ended up being longer than my other ones. Loss for feminism on the post that I specifically started because I was fuelled by feminism.

"Agent Scully is already in love" should be for all the world a gleeful revelation and I was quite excited to see it, as I'd heard about this scene long before (MSR gifsets was what drew me here in the first place. I'm shallow like that.) But scully has been so kicked around this episode, stripped of privacy and dignity in every sense and this has been exposed to Mulder and everybody else, that it only makes me sad, because I do wish that Padgett would stop talking to her completely and stop getting around in her head like this.

The end scene just kills me, where the killer breaks in and grabs at her heart. She claws at Mulder's back when he embraces her with such fierce desperation and what I can only assume is a very, very deep well of regret. She doesn't shy away from him caring for her: she needs it.