#you could be a violent resentful bitch and never happens

[maxdibert]

Imagine you are a Hogwarts student, and the Marauders come to play a prank on you. What would you do?

When I was about 14, one of the boys in my class played a prank on me by throwing a bunch of fake spiders at my head. He said that since I always dressed in black (I had a phase where I wore nothing but black for about two months back then—I don’t really know why, I guess I was going through one of those phases, lol), I looked like Wednesday Addams, and the spiders were to complete the look.

That day, after class, I grabbed one of the trash bins from the school yard and dumped it over his head, with all the garbage inside. I told him to take it as a way of returning the favor by complementing his "trash boy" outfit.

He never bothered me again.

If the Marauders or anyone like them tried to prank me, I’d make it very clear that the best thing they could do to preserve their physical well-being would be to never mess with me or breathe the same oxygen as me within a ten-meter radius ever again.

[mommy-daddy-issues-poll]

Jiang Cheng & Jiang Yanli (Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed) Propaganda

Jiang Cheng (his sister was submitted without propaganda)

“Okay, so, this is a matter of perception and what actually happens. Daddy issues: this one's slightly more controversial, but he PERCIEVES that he gets less love from his father than his adoptive brother (he counts the times he's been held as a child [not many] and is very upset when his father makes him send his dogs away to make emotional space for said adoptive brother) and that his father is very harsh with him because he doesn't love him. Why does Jiang Cheng thing his father doesn't like or love him? Introduce the MOMMY ISSUES!!! His mother accuses his father of liking the adopted son more all the time and forgetting who his true flesh and blood is, causing a huge rift in the entire family. (She's jealous of a dead woman that, honestly, I don't think Jiang Cheng's dad ever had a shot with.) She constantly pits the boys against each other, sowing discord in the family and leaving her son Traumatized~! He IS loved by both his parents, but their toxicity towards each other definitely left him, the adopted son, and their poor daughter with different flavors of mommy and daddy issues. (Except the adopted son always knows in his heart who is actual parents are and says at one point that he does get tired of people forgetting that they, yk, existed and were in love with each other.)”

"Convinced that his dad loved their families ward more than him and said ward has to repeatedly comfort him about it. Mother is a huge bitch that propagates this idea. She only shows affection to him on screen before dying. Most of her time onscreen is her yelling at her husband about how she believes he hates Jiang Cheng because she birthed him. Child of parents that should've divorced."

“The Jiang family is a MESS and Jiang Cheng is very much a product of that. His father prefers his adopted son over him while his mother is abusive, controlling and blames Jiang Cheng for not being talented enough. As you can imagine, this man does not grow up well-adjusted at all.”

“his father AND his mother are critical of him so only SOME of his issues are getting their approval”

“Mommy is mad at Daddy for not loving her. Daddy hates conflict and ignores Mommy as much as possible. And ignores his son as much as possible, because he's so much like Mommy--high-strung, irritable, cautious, pragmatic. Daddy prefers the sunny, brilliant, careless, adventurous foster-brother instead. (Everyone loves/overlooks the needs of Nice Peace-making Older Sister. The three kids manage to grow up loving each other despite all this.) Mommy hates the foster-brother (who is (falsely) rumored to actually be Daddy's son) and needs Jiang Cheng to be better than him in every way. She needs Jiang Cheng to be the BEST. But he's not. He's pretty damned impressive in his own right, but he doesn't have Protagonist Energy. He has Secondary Character Energy. The parenting ranges from Tough Love to just your basic abuse. Anyway, Mommy and Daddy and nearly everyone else at home are brutally murdered. Jiang Cheng inherits his father's position and his mom's sexy magic purple lightning whip and rebuilds the family home and raises his orphaned nephew with a whole lot more love and a whole lot less abuse than he got himself. He cries a lot."

“man is the poster child for parent issues. he's the heir to a powerful sect, but his parents had an unhappy marriage and he had a wretched relationship with them before their violent deaths. his father jfm dislikes jc as a person because he thinks jc doesn't embody the clan motto and is too similar to his mother, a woman he resents having to marry. jfm favors jc's adopted brother because that boy's mom is the one he actually wanted to marry, and jc's mother knows it and takes it out on all of them. jc knows he is considered inferior by both of his parents and that he could never do enough to 'earn' their affection or approval, despite family love being his single most deeply desired wish. during a grug-induced hallucination, he just sees them all getting along and loving each other. but the murder of his parents cuts off any hope for reconciliation or healing between them, and he grows into a bitter, insecure, aggressive, violent, and jealous individual as a result. he ends the story utterly alone besides his young nephew, blacklisted by matchmakers and having pushed away his brother in misguided blame for the death of their sister”

“Insane Mommy AND Daddy issues (ignored and neglected by Dad in favour of his bestie's son, frequently berated by his extremely fierce and sharp-tongued Mom, perpetually in the centre of CONFLICT between parents, who then die traumatically).”

“Jiang Cheng’s parents need a divorce SO bad, but they can’t get one, and they both take it out on him. JC takes after his mother in a lot of ways, which makes his relationship with his father deeply strained. His dad loves him, but he doesn’t seem like him much sometimes. He’s very frequently disappointed in him, and he’s physically unaffectionate and distant, showing clear favoritism toward Jiang Cheng’s adopted brother. Meanwhile, his mother projects her own resentment toward her husband and the adopted-ish brother onto JC. She belittles him, constantly comparing him to the brother and saying he’s a failure of an heir for not being able to match someone who should be his subordinate/inferior.”

“tbf I think daddy/mommy issues run in the family considering who his nephew is, but Jiang Cheng is a big mess of daddy/mommy-related trauma shambling around and masquerading as a man”

“This guy's parents (father Jiang Fengmian & mother Yu Ziyuan) really gave him the worst inferiority complex. His father always dismissed him & heavily favors Jiang Cheng 's brother and his mother, jealous bc the brother is adopted and not her kid, is suoer hard on him and constantly telling him how much he sucks. Really fucks up his relationship with said brother in later parts of the show.”

“His dad has never hugged him and likes his adopted brother better than him to the point where people think the adopted brother is his dad's secret bastard child. His mom always compares him negatively to the adopted brother and says he'll never be good enough and that his dad hates him because he reminds his dad of her. His biggest dream is for his family to be happy and his parents to love him.”

“My man’s dad literally picked up another kid and made him get rid of his puppies. His mom was constantly complaining he wasn’t as good as the other kid and saying this is why his dad didn’t love him. And then they died horribly leaving him in charge of his clan.”

"Listen, this man's mother grabbed his arm (therefore making sure he stays within earshot) shows him to his father and says ""I know you don't love him and that he's a major disappointment, but he's still your son!"" to which I thought 'was it really necessary to say that in front of him????' But his father didn't even argue! He just said ""Wife, not now"" and walks off 'cause he's got better things to do than be in the same room with his family."

“so one jc's dad likes jc's childhood friend better than jc (jc has only been held by his dad less than five times). this is because jc is too much like his mother, who jc's dad was kind of forced to marry. jc's mom is constantly screaming at everybody and whipping people with her tazer whip. jc later inherits that same tazer whip. the nicest thing his parents do for him is die so that he can escape a total genocide of his martial arts sect.”

"- his dad and his mom do not get along well; they have a very chilly relationship

- his dad was rumored to have been in love with another woman, but she eloped with his dad’s best friend/servant instead, so his dad was left to marry his mom

- when he’s a kid, that other woman and her husband die, leaving behind an orphaned kid

- his dad basically ‘adopts’ that kid into their family. Jiang Cheng, who at this point can count the number of times he’s been held by his dad on one hand, immediately sees his dad walk in carrying this random other kid, with no hesitation.

- the kid (Wei Wuxian) is scared of dogs so Jiang Cheng’s dad forces Jiang Cheng to give his three dogs away

- Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng grow up, and Wei Wuxian ends up being better in almost everything. Jiang Cheng’s mom harshly scolds and criticizes Jiang Cheng for not measuring up and being as good

- Jiang Cheng’s dad behaves more affectionately and permissibly toward Wei Wuxian, doting on him to the extent that Jiang Cheng’s mom criticizes him for favoring him over his own son

- she tells Jiang Cheng that he will never be good enough for his dad because he reminds him of her; meanwhile, Wei Wuxian, the son of the woman he used to love, will always be above Jiang Cheng

- Wei Wuxian gets injured and trapped in a cave while Jiang Cheng runs home for a week straight, never stopping to rest while he tries to bring help. When Wei Wuxian is rescued, Jiang Cheng’s father praises Wei Wuxian for best exemplifying their clan’s motto. Jiang Cheng watches while receiving no praise for his own actions

- also Jiang Cheng watches his parents get murdered in front of him, which is also very traumatizing "

[innerpalaces]

THE PRINCESS WEI YANG - 170 PART 2

CHAPTER 170: Eternal Torment

Li Ping sneered and pulled out the dagger with all his strength, only to see that the gleaming blade was covered in bright red and blood was dripping onto the ground.

Tuoba Zhen suddenly took three steps back, his body swayed, and the blood from his wound surged like a spring. He said angrily: "Li Ping, even you betrayed me!" After saying this, he bent over and coughed violently because he was too seriously injured.

Li Ping waved his hand, and a dozen men in black suddenly appeared, all holding sharp swords in their hands. Tuoba Zhen was so angry that he drew out the sword from his waist and fought with these people. After all, he was taught by a famous teacher, and he had been very diligent in martial arts since he was a child. Ordinary warriors could not do anything to him, but these people were carefully selected killers, and they were all ruthless. Li Ping also gave guidance from the side, and specifically pointed out Tuoba Zhen's weak spots. In just a few short moments, Tuoba Zhen was severely injured. Blood spurted out, and then quickly spread across his robe into a black mess. He heard a pop, and suddenly covered his right eye and shrieked. That shrill scream sounded like a howl of despair at this moment. The guards in black were merciless, coming over with a long sword and cutting off his legs.

Tuoba Zhen curled up on the ground, with an expression of extreme pain on his face.

At this moment, he heard a clear voice, very gentle and lovely: "Your Highness, you are so easy to find." It seemed like a sigh, but also like a smile, and sounded extremely familiar. Li Wei Yang!

It's Li Wei Yang! Tuoba Zhen lost his legs, and his face was slashed several times. His handsome appearance had been completely destroyed, his right eye was covered with blood, and the vision in his remaining left eye was blurred. But he still managed to hear the voice and said viciously: "Li Wei Yang, you bitch!"

Li Wei Yang smiled and slowly walked out from the side. As soon as she appeared, Li Ping and the men in black stopped their hands and knelt down obediently. Li Wei Yang's eyes seemed bottomless: "My, what happened? You're hurt so badly."

"Stop being hypocritical, you arranged everything. You are really vicious." Tuoba Zhen reached out to wipe the blood from his right eye and said bitterly.

Li Wei Yang smiled softly, the jewelry in her hair still jangling, and her voice was clear and beautiful: "Oh, really? When it comes to being vicious, how can I compare to you, Your Highness? You wanted to put me to death time and time again, and now, I've only learned a bit from you."

Tuoba Zhen fell to the ground, wounds on his face and blood gushing from his body, but he still maintained the dignity of the imperial family. He would never show weakness in front of Li Wei Yang, let alone beg for mercy! He held his chest and gasped as he spoke: "You have long planned out such vicious schemes against the people closest to me. You are really even more despicable than me!"

Li Wei Yang said softly: "Yes, I am indeed despicable. But to you and me, the word 'noble' is just a shadow in water and a rainbow in a blue sky. I am just an ordinary person. Since I am ruthless, I must be ruthless to the end, why bother showing mercy?"

Tuoba Zhen's bloody eyes looked in the direction of Li Ping, and he struggled to say: "Why?" Why, why did he betray him?

Li Ping didn't speak and lowered his head deeply.

Li Wei Yang smiled and said: "Didn't you notice? He has always resented you. If it weren't for your concubine mother, how could his family have been implicated and all died? It's ridiculous that you think just because you have given others a little kindness they should be grateful and devoted to you for the rest of their lives. He has been in your house for so many years and can only be an invisible steward, but I promised to recommend him to an official position that can better utilize his talents."

Li Ping did not deny it, but lowered his head further, and the expression on his face became uneasy. Maybe there was guilt in it, but so what, what the princess said was correct. His family died because of Tuoba Zhen's biological mother. Why can't he hate him? Although Tuoba Zhen saved him, he kept him as a slave, so why should he be grateful? If it were not for the princess, he might have to be Tuoba Zhen's slave for the rest of his life! He doesn't want to!

Sure enough, it's Li Wei Yang! The real fatal blow was waiting for him here.

The person Tuoba Zhen trusted the most was Li Ping, but the one who betrayed him in the end was the person he rescued from the dead. He thought that his mother's people would not betray him, but now he discovered that He Jing was the last person he could trust. However, he died in Li Ping's hands. It's ridiculous that Tuoba Zhen regarded Li Ping as a loyal subordinate. Ridiculous, really the most ridiculous thing in the world! Being betrayed by someone you don't trust doesn't matter at all, but being betrayed by someone you truly trust is the most painful thing in the world! Li Wei Yang knew Tuoba Zhen too well. The reason why she let him off on the cliff was not to let him escape, but to let him have a taste of what it meant to have nowhere to go, what it meant to be betrayed, what it meant to be driven mad by the pain!

Li Wei Yang said calmly: "I learned this kind of thing from you. You can ask Consort Lian to betray me, why can't I ask your loyal servant to betray you?"

Tuoba Zhen was so enraged that he was on the verge of going berserk, and his heart was beating gloomily and miserably. If possible, he would have rushed over and strangled Li Wei Yang! However, he himself fell down first, his mouth full of bitterness. With just a single word, he would feel like stars were popping up in front of his eyes, and his visions was going black.

A person only regrets his mistakes when he is at the end of his rope. At this moment, Tuoba Zhen finally tasted the feeling of being betrayed by someone he trusted, and also tasted the despair of death. For the first time, he felt pain in his heart. This despair was so much that he couldn't bear it. It was more painful than the knife wound on his body!

He raised his head, and everyone was looking at him. Their eyes seemed to be looking at a corpse. Yes, Li Wei Yang would not let him go. He was going to die here today. His vision gradually blurred, and he was now lost in memories. He seemed to see the smiling woman in the dream walking towards him step by step... However, in a moment, it turned into a cold face again.

He was originally a noble third prince. In his heart, he thought the Crown Prince was a fool, and Tuoba Yu was lucky. This was because one of them had a noble bloodline, and the other had the favoritism of the Emperor. He was unwilling to give in. He was constantly ignored and overlooked, but he is also a prince, and he is not willing to live second to others for the rest of his life. So he was ambitiously preparing to ascend to the throne.

However, in front of others, he can never reveal his goal, never reveal his talent. He must firmly control his ambition, and then maintain the most perfect smile, follow the Crown Prince loyally, be humble, strong, and hypocritical. For the sake of the throne, he gradually became hard-hearted. No matter who it was, as long as they blocked his way, they could only die. Even if he is alone, he is not afraid because he does not need anyone. Nowadays, the throne was getting closer and closer, four steps, three steps, two steps, just one step away, and he was about to get it.

Suddenly, all this left him, and he became a fugitive who could only hide abroad. He became destitute and even his last loyal subordinate betrayed him. He thought he was cruel enough, but found that the most cruel thing in the world was not betrayal, but being let down by the only person he could trust. This was more painful than any other betrayal. Even if he is as cunning as a fox, he cannot escape this nightmare. In his heart, besides resentment, there was an even more indescribable sadness. How much better is Li Wei Yang than him? She used everything she could to serve herself, and what about him? He only had one Li Ping who was ungrateful to him. Having reached this point, he had long since clearly seen the human nature and the world, but because of a moment of carelessness, he had forgotten about it.

Now, his legs are broken, his face is a bloody mess, his right eye is blind, everyone around him has abandoned him, and he has nothing. The dignified Third Prince has actually fallen into the state he is in today. It's ridiculous, so ridiculous. He wanted to laugh, but Li Wei Yang waved his hand gently, and a black-clothed assassin walked up. The silver blade flashed and lightly scratched his throat. At that moment, his eyes widened in horror and he thought he would die. However, the long sword only drew a tiny trace of blood. He opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but he could no longer speak. Next, the man severed the meridians of his limbs, and even slashed his face several times. The severe pain made Tuoba Zhen want to show an angry expression, but he found that he could no longer control his facial muscles...

"Your villa, your guards, have all disappeared. I know that there must be a secret escape route in that courtyard, so I gave it to His Majesty. I believe that he will make good use of this place, so, there's no need for you to use it from now on." Li Wei Yang said lightly, the smile on her face becoming more and more gentle. Whenever she smiled like this, she would cause great pain to others.

Tuoba Zhen reluctantly raised his head, but could not see her face clearly.

Only Heaven know how much he hated this woman. He wanted nothing more than to devour her and fuse her into his blood. But now, he suddenly realized that because of her, he had been defeated.

Although, he almost succeeded.

"Tuoba Zhen, actually you shouldn't have ended up like this. How could you trust others when you are so smart? You should obviously be recuperating alone and waiting until the storm is over before you take back what belongs to you. But you were too impatient, you were too arrogant, you couldn't accept being in such a situation, so you chose to believe Li Ping. This may be the only mistake in your life, but sometimes, once is enough."

There is a desire in everyone's heart. Tuoba Zhen's true desire is to fight for the throne. This desire drives him forward. However, it is this same desire that finally destroys him. He is fundamentally a contradictory person. While he constantly exploits and betrays others, he does not allow anyone to betray him. The most important thing Li Wei Yang learned from him is: whoever is ruthless enough can survive.

Tuoba Zhen stared at Li Weiyang. He knew that she could understand what he wanted to say, and she knew that he wanted her to kill him. Rather than live in such humiliation, he would rather end his own life! Because he was Tuoba Zhen. He could die, but he could not lose his dignity!

Li Wei Yang understood his expression, but she just smiled slightly. Her white shoes were not stained by dust. She stepped on the dead leaves on the ground and finally arrived in front of him and looked down condescendingly: "You want me to kill you?"

Tuoba Zhen stared at her, as if he wanted to remember her face in his heart. His eyes were full of hatred, but also with a complicated pleading.

However, Li Wei Yang gently shook her head: "I won't kill you."

Tuoba Zhen frowned, and the resentment in his eyes became more twisted, almost turning into burning flames. And the already blind eye became even more terrifying at this moment.

Li Wei Yang looked at him like this, but just said: "I won't kill you. Not only that, I will also find someone to take good care of you... If you are hungry, someone will feed you, if you are thirsty, someone will give you water. If you are cold, someone will put on your clothes. If you are sick, a doctor will treat you. I will let you live like this, ten years, twenty years, thirty years, forty years, the longer you live the better."

Tuoba Zhen really wanted to curse, but he couldn't make a sound. In fact, he couldn't even put on an angry expression because the meridians in his face were broken and he couldn't open his mouth. Li Wei Yang smiled softly and said: "Don't worry about being unable to open your mouth. Someone will naturally open it for you when the time comes and feed you water and food. Tell me, am I not very good to you?"

For a person like Tuoba Zhen, the best torture is not to kill him, but to let him suffer this kind of pain day and night until he dies. He will only continue to regret, go crazy, and torture himself. Unfortunately, he can't walk, write, cry, shout, or laugh. He needs someone to open his mouth to even eat. She will let him keep his left eyes so that he can look at his misery in the mirror every day and recall his life. Moreover, she would arrange for him to stay in a secret house and let him sit in front of a window where he could see the palace every day, looking at the beautiful glazed tiles, the mighty imperial army, and the luxurious palace gates, day after day, year after year, until his heart is a hole and his bones are ashes.

Li Ping lowered his head. All the assassins in black did not dare to look at Li Wei Yang. They had seen many torture methods and countless vicious torments, but they had never seen anything like this. Rather than kill you, I will keep you tortured for eternity, and this torture comes from your own heart. This is the most cruel punishment in the world.

Li Wei Yang's smile suddenly became relaxed: "Okay, it's time for him to hit the road."

The man in black said nothing and lifted Tuoba Zhen. The last thing Li Wei Yang saw was his desperate eyes. That kind of despair was worse than death. She knew that this was just the beginning, and this desperate pain would accompany him until he died.

Turning around, Li Wei Yang suddenly felt that her mood became extremely relaxed. Now, she had gotten rid of someone she had always wanted to get rid of, and all that was left was to wait for that person's return.

The night gradually deepened.

In the Seventh Prince's Mansion, a red candle became shorter and shorter. Princess Pinting kept staring at the candle, her eyes wavering.

At the third watch, a maid respectfully conveyed a message: "His Royal Highness said that he would not be able to come tonight. Please rest first."

Again - Princess Pinting bit her lower lip and asked softly: "Is he still in the study?"

The maid was stunned for a moment, and then replied again: "Seventh Princess, please rest first." She answered in a evasive manner.

Princess Pinting couldn't bear it any longer, so she stood up and walked out quickly, her beautiful skirt brushing over the threshold, carrying a gust of fragrant wind, and she went straight to the study. Ignoring the obstruction of the guards outside the door, not even caring about her own manners, she rushed in.

The handsome man inside suddenly raised his head and looked at her in shock. He forgot to put away the scroll in his hands, and Princess Pinting caught a glimpse of the person in the painting.

The delicate appearance cannot be said to be extremely beautiful, but the eyes are deeply expressive, which shows how much thought and love the painter put into it.

Princess Pinting finally couldn't bear it anymore, covered her face and cried bitterly. On top of the beautiful bun, the dazzling gems inlaid on the golden hairpin seemed to be eclipsed.

"Your Highness... Princess Anping has never loved you!" When she saw the portrait in Tuoba Yu's hand, she finally couldn't help crying, her voice filled with despair.

Since the day after their wedding, Tuoba Yu never entered her room. He always slept alone in the study. Although she had opposed this marriage, deep down, she hoped that Tuoba Yu would keep her, because she had already fallen in love with him from the first moment she saw him. It was because of this thought that King Chaoyang tried every means to facilitate this marriage, but he never expected that Tuoba Yu would treat the pearl in his palm in such a cold way. Princess Pinting had been waiting for Tuoba Yu to change his mind and find that she is equally beautiful, equally smart, and equally worthy of his love. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tries, he refuses to even look at her.

From the beginning to the end, the only one he admired was Princess Anping, only Li Wei Yang.

Under his cold appearance, all his hidden passion had been given to that woman. She did not resent Li Wei Yang, but she really couldn't understand why Tuoba Yu was so persistent. Amidst the desperate cries of Princess Pinting, Tuoba Yu turned around and walked out with a calm expression.

Princess Pinting chased him to the door and shouted loudly: "Tuoba Yu, I beg you, please let this go!"

Tuoba Yu didn't look back, he just sneered. Let go? Didn't he want to - it's a pity that he desired that person too much, and this desire had surpassed all others. Now, he is just one step away. Even if he uses despicable means, he will get her!

－－－－－－Digression－－－－－

Editor: I thought you would torture Tuoba Zhen to death

Xiao Qin: I was originally going to kill him with a single blow, but then I thought that this was the best.

Editor: The heroine will live a happy life next

Xiao Qin: (⊙o⊙)...

Xiao Qin didn't finish this chapter until 12:30, and it was too late to reply to the message...,_

[endthedrugwarnowdotorg]

interpreting my lover over the only free psychic hotline 1 800 FOREVER

"FOREVER IN MY HEART, ANGEL i HAVE NO WHERE TO STAY TONiGHT BECAUSE i HAVE BEEN AT MY PARENTS HOUSE & THEY THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE iN A RELATIONSHiP WiTH SOME GUY NAMED NAiLL BECAUSE THEY MET WHEN HE CAME OVER TO CHECK ON YOU LAST YEAR WHEN ALL THAT SHiT WAS HAPPENiNG.. SO THATS WHY EVERYONE HATES YOU, CAUSE i TOLD EVERYONE THAT YOU WEREE A WHORE WHO FUCKS EVERYTHING THAT MOVES TO MAKE ME HAVEA REASON FOR WHY i WAS BEiNG A ViOLENT FREAKAZOiD." so your mom no longer thinks im a whore, hopefully? "i let her know that you werent actually josie grossie in high school & people were actually quietly not interested in not being your friend but you are just entirely too busy for most people.. so she does not think you are this ugly duckling turned swan person any longer but she does love you for being popular & turning my whole could look like a hoodlum vibe into some thing classier & for turning you into someone who could model & be a movie star & who never saw me as anything less than perfect. " "I forget why we were fighting but nevermind its because i thought you told my mom that you thought i was candices murderer" FOR THE THOUSANTH TIME I NEVER EVEN MENTIONED ANYTHING CLOSE TO THAT I NEVEER EVEN THOUGHT THAT I DIDNT EVEN WRIE IT DOWN FOR ANY REASON THAT I CAN RECALLTHO I AM AWARE IT IS WRITTEN SOMEWHERE. it was something i was compelled to but its besides the point. i never would have brought that up to anyone and never spoke to laywers or anyone without your knowledge. i know you might have, im not upset about it as much as one might think i would be because im mostly just glad you werent tried as a murderer.. i do wonder why i was never asked about anything but i imagine that was some well meaning attempt to keeep me from having to endure anymore pain. and also inspired by the things i said about you beingsomeone who is so much more eqiupt to testify at a trail.. in retrospect i do regret alot of things i said to you. too many things you took on as your own repsonsibily that i could have handled myself. But in my defense, you do love to be the person that does things for me. it brings you joy & how could that ever be wrong? somewhere along the road we ended up in this place where you believe me to be incapable which is not the case, & then some where resentment was built up but all of that nonesense at that point in our relationship i see to be a concerted outside influence and effort to destroy something beautiful like a blonde jared leto in fight club.. i know thats the case & i think we all know that i think i know whose to blame & for years now weve just been going in circles, possibly because my original assumptions werent accurate & the actual culprets, being the evil villans that they are, were desperate for recognition despite my misguided accusations being a total blessing to them if they chose to take it. I assume, as evil types generally do, they joined forces with the ones that i accused of being the originators of all of our confusion.. and that didnt make things any better but honestly it hasnt made them all that much worse. everything was stagnant to annoying, the only damage was to my ability to be brilliant & therefore my husbands happiness was also messed with which was great cause then there was this huge empty silence that they decided to fill with my husbands worst nightmares that they whispererd into his ears constantly for months trying to make me come across as some insecure unahppy bitch who doesnt want or have any interest in any of the amazing things that were being tossed at me because of my obvious suffering. that kind of shit, is the worst thing for a persons reputation, ive learned. having never been offered all that could ever possibly make a girl happy before, i was not aware of any of this but its obvious that i would have said yes to anything any one offered me.. even things i didnt want. thats kind of my MO. so me saying no to cody or hismother or anyone is just obviously fake. everyone else startedd taking advantage of my neglected gifts as cody grew more and more concerned and then frustrated & then started designing a hate fest to destroy me for being so overrun with tradgedy when hes trying to make a princess.. but i swear to god i did not know. now that i know all i want to do is tell him that i forgive him for hating me & more over that i am so sorry that i was portrayed in such a hideous light. im sorry if i ever said anything kind about anyone who was influencing him to believe such total bullshit. im sure that i did. he has always loooked to me for advice & in recent years i have just been trying to be nice to people who generally deserve nothing but the pain of athousand knives stabbing their back and stealing all of theirjoy. to do this kind of thing to him, thats what i cant grasp. They must just really be hateful ugly humans who want nnothing but misery for everyone because thats the only reason that they would allow him to suffer. me, sure you can hate me but HE IS YOUR FRIEND AND HE LOVES ME LET HIM BE HAPPY NO ONE ELSE WILL DO I AM AMAZING AND GUESS WHAT IM BACK ON MY BULLShIT SO YOU BEST LET HIM COME HANGOUT WITH ME OR HES GONNA GET ALL KINDS OF KEEENAN FRENCH STYLE CRAZY AND NO ONE IS AQQUIPT TO HANDLE THAT OTHER THAN ME. essentially, i am the most tolerant & forgiving person & you all can abasically get off scott free as long as you let me have my man back and dont expect me to acknowledge your evil in any regard because i refuse to let it even exist to us. you are failures. and you lose Cody frey as a friend in the end which is the worst thing anyone could ever have to suffer through. belive me, i would know well, actually.. i woudnt because im the only one who deserves him no one has ever loved anyone as much as him and i love each other and that is something you cannot stop despite all your best lil stupid pathetic efforts. and no i wont have sex with any of you unless you are my husband and im sorry about that but once im back in my place in the world you will be able tocome hangout with us and see what it was that was so much more interesting than hangingout with you guys cause it really is enlightening.

[plantwithoutplot]

PLEASE ODA LET US KEEP THE GRANDPA THE FAMILY IS SMALL ENOUGH AS IT IS ;___;♡

And honestly I've seen theories where Blackbeard wants to use him for his memories of God Valley (because he is one of the few people who was THERE and knows what actually happened, and YES I wanna know about it ffs but know by taking away some of the secrets Gramps has protected for so long????) since he also kidnapped Pudding. . . But also what if he uses Pudding to distort everyone's memories? Or Gramps?? Imagine if Blackbeard distorts Gramps' memories to make him foght Luffy in his stead????

Too many possibilities for angst and that is just the surface. . . I know it, you know it, and, worse, Oda knows it too (´༎ຶ▽༎ຶ`)

Honestly I can understand why people would NOT like Gramps, even if I do adore him because. . . It's a matter how of your interpret the implicit clues/subtext, and depending on where you stand, you can reach completely different conclusions

I love Garp because he does care for his family.

Many people will say that yeah if he cared he would have been there more often, would have told Ace more things about his family, or would have intervened in Marineford but...

What if him not trying to help Ace out was actually a show of respect?

I know it sounds weird but hear me out: Garp, a man who has spent two decades telling his grandsons to be marines, knows more than anyone else what their actual dreams are. I believe that if he had tried to save Ace, the guy would have got ANGRY. Because 1) he doesn't WANT the help, 2) that means that Gramps wouldn't fight him like he would any other pirate (meaning he doesn't acknowledge him as one), and 3) he would RESENT Gramps for throwing away his own dream.

Garp could have betrayed Roger/his son easily by giving the government custody of the two. He could have grabbed those kids and thrown them into whatever Marine school/training exist way before they left Dawn Island. He could have not attacked Luffy at all in Water 7.

But he respects them and their dreams.

He fought Luffy in Water 7 (not full strength but that is because he is a softie who wants to see his kids alive and happy) because he respects his dream, even if he disagrees with it.

He sat with Ace at Marineford even though Sengoku told him that he didn't have to be there, because he respects Ace's will and dream as well, even though the idea of losing his grandson is killing him inside.

And both Luffy and Ace know it.

Luffy COULD have tried to escape Water 7 by asking him for help. Ace COULD have asked for help before his execution.

But they respect him too.

They grew up hearing about the Marines this, the Marjnes that, Gramps bothering them to no end about it the same way Luffy talks about pirates.

Garp's dream is to be a Marine and they would never ask him to give up on it.

Not even if that kills them, directly or not.

So Garp trained them, and he WAS unfair and violent... Not because he enjoyed it, because those boys were doomed to be murdered from the moment their exiatence came to be. They were doomed before they had even been born, and he gave them as 'safe' a childhood as he could (it was far from perfect, but they had shelter, food, water, and, even if lots of part of it sucked, they SURVIVED LONG ENOUGH TO REACH ADULTHOOD).

That was a very long rent but I have lots of feelings about parental figures who try but still fail because 1) context matters bitches (in the OP universe, Ace and Luffy could never have had a normal childhood) and 2) no parent is perfect and they ARE doomed to make mistakes (we all wish not to hurt loved ones, but we will fail, which is how we learn and can actually work toward redemption for past mistakes genuinely and not simply asking for empty forgiveness)

Hi how are you!

SO

chapter 8 is *chef kiss* the best and you literally posted it when I needed it the most I'll comment as soon as I feel my brain cells returning

I have two questions are you caught up to the manga or to the anime?

MONKEY D GARP

Thoughts? Other than being an amazing grandpa?

Helloooo!!! I'm super duper fine, I just finished rewatching Whole Cake Island with my roommate 👌👌

I hope that you're feeling better than a few days ago 🥺🥺 And that you will get a few days of rest now ٩(๑`∪´๑)۶

AaAAAAH I'm glad you enjoyed it!!!! I had lots of moxed feelings toward this chaoter but it may have been because I have worked on it for too long ahah Take your time to write your comment, I will wait patiently!! Even more so if you are planning on another 7k long comment ✧ʕ̢̣̣̣̣̩̩̩̩·͡˔·ོɁ̡̣̣̣̣̩̩̩̩✧

Ok technically I am caught up with the manga and read the chapters every week so. . . When it comes to Garp, my only answer will be this one :

IF ANYTHING WERE TO HAPPEN TO GRANDPA I WOULD JUST BREAK 🥹🥹🥹 💔

And the theories I keep seeing here and there make me fear for the worse and I refuse to acknowledge it in any way, I'm very very happy in Denial Land, it's a lovely country where you always find something new to keep you busy (๑❛ڡ❛๑)

[greatlydelirious]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Bo Sinclair x F!Reader

wordcount: 5k words

summary: You had a special connection with Bo Sinclair ever since you were kids. Your relationship becomes unsteady when Bo pushes you away “for your own good.” Years of suppressing each other’s emotions boil over during one fateful night.

warnings: smut, possessive behavior, angst, mentions of past abuse

You never had a real parental figure in your life. It was tough, never truly feeling that kind of affection. Your mother died while giving birth to you. When that happened, it was already the beginning of the end for you. Your father came to resent you, seeing you only as the “thing” that killed his wife. He became a raging alcoholic, finding solace in the bottle instead of taking care of you. When he drank, he became belligerent. He would scream at you, belittling you any chance he got. At the age of 18 is when he became violent. Everyone in the town knew about this problem, but no one did a thing. Except, you did have one person who always watched out for you. Bo Sinclair noticed your bruises when you came to his house one night to watch a movie.

The two of you were sitting on the couch when Bo decided to start a tickling match with you. “Sorry, darlin’ no can do. I ain’t stoppin’ until you beg for it.” Bo teased flirtatiously. He caged you beneath him on the couch, his fingers fluttering on your stomach while you squealed. “Bo! Please! I can barely breathe!” The giggles flood your body as he was miraculous in his actions. “C’mon I know ya can do better than that.” He drawled while moving to your hips. As you try to wiggle from his grip your shirt lifts above your ribs. Bo immediately stops, pulling back to look at your ribs. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Your eyes flash to his as your breath gets caught in your throat. It feels as though your heart is going to burst as shame fills your body. “I-I fell down the stairs, it’s no big deal. It barely hurts anymore.” You almost cringe at how unconvincing you sounded. A wince comes out of you when he grabs your arm to properly pull you up. Bo pulls your sleeve up, his eyes growing dark. “I know what accidents look like sweetheart. This ain’t no accident.” His fingers ghost the cigarette burns on your forearm. “Tell me what son a’ bitch did this and I’ll make sure his hands don’t even work enough to touch ya ever again.”

Your brain argues with yourself. It’s not like you have any reason to not trust Bo. He was always there for you. Letting you vent to him about the littlest things that were bothering you. Sure, he could be a dick sometimes, but that was his way of protecting himself from people. You understood his outburst, you even wished you were able to stand up for yourself the way he did. You stammer as you finally reply, “It was m-my father, but it was my fault. I-I talked ba-back to him. Please don’t worry about it, Bo.” He moves closer, your bodies brushing together on the dingy sofa. “You know that bullshit ain’t true darlin’. You know that ain’t your fault, you’ve said it yourself.”

Your fingers move to caress his wrist over his long-sleeved shirt. “I have you watching over me, right? As long as I have you, I will be just fine. You’re getting yourself worked up for no reason.” Bo confided in you not long ago about his childhood. It turned your gut when you learned how cruel his parents were. The real irony is you told him the same words he was telling you now; you were never one to listen to your own advice though. It was rare to see Bo get soft, but the walls that he had up around him always seemed too slightly crumble when he was around you. He puts his finger under your chin to lift your gaze from your lap to his eyes. “As long as ya keep that in your pretty little head of yours; we won’t have any more problems happen now will we?” His protective words make your body grow warm. Only then do you notice how close the two of you were. Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips; a feeling of need washing over you. He grins before resting his hands on your hips as he leans in. His breath tickled your lips, “Tell me to stop sugar and I will.” You just simply nod as you stare at his lips. It would be a lie if you said you hadn’t ever thought of Bo as more than a friend. All the girls in Ambrose swooned over him, but how could they not? The man was ruggedly handsome and God that voice. There was something about that southern drawl that gave you goosebumps. 

Before you could get further lost in your thoughts Bo pulls you into a kiss. His lips are rough as he takes claim of your mouth. The taste of cheap beer slips into your mouth, but it only makes you moan. The kiss is sloppy, yet so perfect. You can feel the passion behind every tug of your conjoined lips. He pulls away with a pop before letting out a shaky breath. “If I didn’t know better, I would make you mine right now darlin’.” A shiver goes up your spine, “What says I wouldn’t let you.” He gets up from his place on the couch before looking down at you. “I’ll never be the right man for you and I know you’re smart enough to see that.”

Your heart almost stops in your chest. “Then why are you stringing me along Bo?” This made Bo’s temper flare, “I ain’t doin’ no such thing, I just know what’s best for ya, and ya can’t accept it.” You stood up, a coldness taking hold of your heart, “Fine, but I’m not going to stop being your friend just because you don’t deem me a good enough fuck.” His hands ball in a white-knuckled fist, “Don’t say that shit ever again ya hear me? You know it’s more than that.”

You stare at him, the hurt in your eyes evident. “I’ll see you around Sinclair.” With that, you walk out the door. When you get off the porch you hear a big crash and a shatter of glass. You start to fast walk back to your house, adrenaline pumping your heart. That’s just how it was always like being around Bo; a constant rollercoaster of emotions that at one moment makes you blush and at another makes you cry.

Bo Sinclair would never admit it, but he was madly in love with you. Despite his rough exterior, he had insecurities of his own. Anytime he longed to tell you how he felt, his parent’s voices replayed in his head. They always told Bo how terrible he was. In their words, he was “a useless piece of shit that could never do anything right.” All of this made him push you away. He didn’t want to corrupt you; in his eyes, you were the most delicate and beautiful flower in this town full of weeds.

A couple of days went by of you and Bo not speaking. You did, however, find solace in the other Sinclair brothers. Vincent always had a knack for keeping your mind off all the bad things going on. You and Vincent formed a great friendship. He loved how you always seemed to listen to him intently. Asking him questions about his project and trying to understand him. Most of the people in the town made him feel like a freak, but you treated him just like you would anybody else.

Lester loved when you would tag along during his roadkill cleanup. You’d have a hoot of time making jokes back and forth till the both of you could barely breathe. He always wanted to cheer you up, especially if you had a not-so-friendly encounter with Bo. You were truly accepted into their family; it was a dysfunctional family, to say the least, but at least it was one you could call your own.

Eventually, you and Bo started talking again. The two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other. Even still, you both suppressed any romantic feelings. At this moment in time, it was the best thing to do. It still stung seeing Bo with another girl wrapped around his finger. They never lasted long though, Bo tossing them aside to move on to the next. The Sinclair brother was known as a heartbreaker around town. You tried to ignore it the best you could; although sometimes you did find yourself screaming into your pillow in frustration.

As the months went by you practically blossomed. Your confidence grew as you realized your worth more and more. Your relationship with the brothers showed you that there were people out there who actually cared about you. You stopped taking your father’s shit when one day you hit him back. He flew off the handle, yelling at you to leave his house and never come back. Little did you know that when you ran out the backdoor, Bo was lurking near the house. He was strolling around Ambrose when he heard the commotion coming from your home. Without a word, Bo walked through the back door that you left open in your haste.

After a couple of hours of walking around to cool your head, you went back to the house to pack your stuff. When you get inside you notice your father and his car were gone. It seemed as though he up and left in the short time you were gone. Something didn’t sit right with you and you had a feeling about who could have been the reason for this.

“I. took. care. of. it.” Bo empathized each word through gritted teeth. A back-and-forth was going on between you and Bo in the living room of the Sinclair residence. “You don’t have to fight all my battles for me, Bo! I could have handled it myself!” You were starting to get dizzy of Bo keeping you at arm’s length while hovering over you at the same time. “Yeah, ‘cause you were takin’ such great care of it yourself.” His sarcastic tone made you want to slap him in the mouth, but you held back. “What am I going to do now!? I have nowhere to live.” Bo only smirked at your frustration, “Got that all figured out, so your pretty little head don’t gotta worry about nothin’. Mama set up a guest bedroom a while back that you can stay in. The boys don’t mind nun’ since they like havin’ ya around. It would be nice havin’ a feminine touch around.” His voice turns teasing when he gets to the last part.

You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Why should you waste time worrying about your father anyway? He never had a second thought about you? It might be nice to have some semblance of domestic life for once. “You win this time Sinclair. I would say thank you, but that would only inflate your ego.” A smug smile spreads across Bo’s handsome face. With a tip of his hat he drawls, “I’m always at your service darlin’.”

It astounded you how he was always one step ahead of you. You don’t even want to consider how he got your father to leave. Bo had a way of getting anyone he deemed as a threat to you to go away. Anytime another guy made lewd or flirtatious comments towards you he would put them in their place. Several fights he got himself in stemmed from just that. It always bothered you how he told you “You couldn’t be together” but deterred any man from even glancing in your direction.

As time passes you become a pivotal part of the Sinclair family. In a way, you replaced the role of their mother as you took care of not only the home but the brothers as well. When the sugar mill closed down the townspeople quickly deserted the hidden town. You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t cross your mind as well; but at the end of the day, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. It felt as though your soul was attached to Lester, Vincent, and more importantly, Bo.

You took care of everything around the town as best as you could. It made you feel like you had a job and weren’t just a freeloader. The four of you all had to pull your weight in some way for everything to function smoothly. Yes, you knew all about the people who enter the town and never leave. The dozens of wax statues around the town does unsettle you, but in a way, you understood Vincent’s and Bo’s motive. You loved all the brothers too much to just walk away. Bo tries to keep you away from the visitors as much as he possibly can. He didn’t want to risk you getting injured in the middle of subduing a new victim. That’s why you would stay locked away in your room; trying your best to ignore the screams that would echo all around Ambrose.

It was late in the evening as you cooked dinner for the three Sinclair brothers. The humid Louisiana heat beats down on you through the window as you work away. You stir the stew as Lester and Bo come through the front door. “Shoulda seen the size of that thing Bo! Raccoon damn near looked like the size of a dog.” Bo ignores his brother as he steps into the kitchen. It looks like he just got done fixing his truck for what felt like the hundredth time. “Smells good. You know how to get straight to a man’s heart now don’t ya?” His comment makes you giggle. You slap away his hand when he tries to grab a piece of bread. Looking pointedly at the boys, your mother mode turns on, “You boys better go wash up before eating and get your brother too while you’re at it.” Bo playfully replies, “Yes Ma’am,” before they walk away.

While setting the table you prepare a bowl for each one of them. Vincent and Bo make their way to the table. Bo plops down and immediately starts to dig in. He was never one for following proper manners. You notice how Vincent just stands there fidgeting with his fingers. You hold out a bowl of stew towards him, “You can take it downstairs Vinny, it’s okay.” The quiet man takes the bowl from you and nods in appreciation; quickly making his way back into the basement.

Bo stops mid-chew, chuckling lowly, “Vinny huh? Didn’t know you two were cozyin’ up together.” You roll your eyes, “I’m not going to be mean to him Bo. His nothing but sweet. Stop looking at something that’s not there.” Lester walks in, looking between the both of you before sitting down.

The rest of the meal is shrouded in silence. Lester says a couple of light-hearted comments here and there to try and break the tension until he quickly finishes his meal. “Great as usual miss. Bless her heart, but mama’s cookin’ couldn’t compete with yours.” You smile at the youngest brother. The redneck looks scary to those who don’t know him, but he was the biggest sweetheart. “Thank you, Lester. I put some of the scrapes in a bowl for your pup.” You gesture towards the counter as you continue eating your meal. He grabs the bowl, “See ya later!” with that Lester exists the house again. Bo doesn’t look up while finishing his food “You ain’t gotta be so sweet on them; shits unnecessary.” You simply sigh, grabbing both bowls, and go to wash them.

The chair harshly scraps against the floor as Bo goes to grab a beer from the fridge. He slams the door making you slightly jump. Bo pops the cap open before taking a sip, regarding you intently. “Your too naive darlin’. When you talk to a man like that, he’s gonna get the wrong idea.” You feel the blood rush to your ears as you dry off your hands, “I can talk to anyone however I want actually.” You flinch when Bo slams his beer bottle on the counter. “What the fuck is your problem, Bo!? I’m tired of this possessive boyfriend act you have going on.” You step forward and poke a finger in his chest, “I’m not yours Bo; that’s a decision you made.”

Bo knocks his cap off, running his hands through his hair with frustration, “I was tryin’ to protect ya! I ain’t no better than my parents!” You scoff at the same words you’ve heard come out of his mouth time and time again. “Are you seriously still on about that? We confided with each other; we’ve been through the exact same thing. If you keep acting like this I’ll leave. You hear me? I’ll walk out and never look back!” Your threat isn’t entirely true. You were just so angry at what he’s been putting you all through over the years. Somedays you feel like Bo forgot you even existed. Everything you felt was pent up inside you and you needed to let it out.

Bo immediately backs you up against the counter and cages you with his muscular arms. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, his body practically enveloping yours. “If you didn’t like the way I act you woulda left a long time ago darlin’.” “If you keep playing games with me Bo, I’ll have no other choice. I’m tired of being taken for granted by you.” He tilts his head a sound close to a purr comes out his mouth, “You want me to stop playin’ games? Fine.” Bo brings his lips to your ear; the hot breath that fans down your neck lights a fire inside your body. “You’re all I think about. You know how hard it is to focus when you’re in my shop in those tiny little shorts and tank top ya flaunt round in. My cock gets hard just lookin’ at you sweetheart.” You almost felt overstimulated by his closeness and his intoxicating smell; a manly scent of pine and oil that claims your senses. And God his words; it makes your thighs clench together. Your fidgeting doesn’t go unnoticed by Bo.

The smirk that spreads across his face is almost wolfish, “I tried to stay back for your own good. You’re a big girl though huh?” Bo kisses the shell of your ear, “Say the word and I’ll corrupt that little body of yours,” he drawls out seductively. You finally find your voice when you pull back to look into his eyes. The sincerity of his passion is evident in his dark gaze. “Do what you should have done years ago,” Your breath comes out slightly shaky as you challenge Bo. His hands hook under your exposed thighs and squeeze, “I’m going to fuck you until the only thing coming out of your pretty mouth is my name.” He easily lifts you to seat you on the edge of the counter. Your mouths collide as he presses your bodies together. You nip at his lower lip making the man groan. Bo holds the back of your neck to maneuver you where he wanted. His tongue explores your mouth, trying to savor the taste of you. You cry out when his hips rut forward and his cock rubs against your clothed sex.

You pull away, heavy gasps escaping you as you start blushing, “Wh-what if someone catches us, Bo?” Bo latches on your neck, definitely leaving a mark before moving his hands to grab your ass. “Then hop on cowgirl.” As he lifts you, you wrap yourself around him. His strength makes you grow even warmer when he starts booking it upstairs to his bedroom. He slams the door closed and gently throws you on the bed. Before you can even collect yourself, he hovers over you. “Do you like your clothes?” Your brain feels scrambled as you nod your head. He practically growls, “Then take them off before I fuckin rip them off, princess.” Hands move desperately as you tug your clothes off. You throw your shirt on the ground. “Fuck…” Bo can’t rip his eyes off your breasts when he notices you didn’t put a bra on today. You squirm underneath his gaze as you push at his shirt, “I need to see you.” He chuckles as he takes off his shirt while you wriggle out of your shorts.

Your hands fly to his belt before he stops you. “Patience darlin’, I think I need a little dessert first.” Bo leans in to leave a trail of kisses down your body. His mouth pauses at your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth while he pinches the other one. Your body involuntary rubs up into his bent knee as you moan out. Bo’s teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud as you brace your hands on his shoulders. You push on his shoulder; why did he have to torture in every aspect of the word? He gets up, making you let out an annoyed huff. “You are a needy little thing baby. Don’t worry none. I’m gunna take real good care of ya.” You watch as he unbuckles his jeans, the large bulge hidden underneath makes you stop breathing. The sound of his metal zipper being pulled down adds electricity into the air as the anticipation builds. Bo pulls his pants down with his boxers; his member springs free, precum already dripping from the tip of the wide head.

This wasn’t your first time by any means. When the town was still populated you messed with a guy that worked at the movie theatre. That was very short-lived when Bo found out and beat the shit out of the other man. Any other potential lover was scared off by the man’s brutish display. Even so, Bo was way larger than anyone else you’ve ever been with. While you are lost in thought you feel a tug as you are pulled to the edge of the bed and your panties are discarded. A low whistle flows from Bo’s lips, “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” His index and forefinger stroke along your slick folds, massaging the hot skin. “Damn baby you are so fuckin wet. I’ll be makin’ a mess out of you in no time.” Your positive your face turned scarlet as you moan, “Please Bo, I need you.” He gets down on his knees and kisses your thigh, “I told you before, I’m always at your service darlin’.” With that Bo’s mouth descends on your pussy.

A fog washes over your brain the moment Bo gives your pussy a long lick before eating you out like he was a starved man and you were his first meal. “FUCK! God please Bo don’t stop! I can’t…” You are utterly breathless as you throw your head back into the mattress and your hands grip the comforter for dear life. A finger slips into your velvet walls as his mouth envelopes your clit; circling it with slow twirls of his tongue. “Bo I’m so fucking close; Christ, so fucking close!” Bo’s mouth leaves you with a wet pop. “Look in my eyes while I defile your sweet cunt princess,” he commands you in a dark tone you’ve never heard before.

Just as you’re about to lift your head, Bo pumps another finger into you; making you feel a delicious stretch at the intrusion. Right when you feel your peak coming close, he pulls his fingers out of you. “No, no, please don’t stop, I can’t take it,” You beg as your eyes fill with tears as your need for release overwhelms you. “I could keep you beggin’ like this for hours. What if I just left you and came back later?” He has a malicious smile on his face as he gives your soaked cunt another lick. Your head shoots up to gap at him, “Please Bo, I can’t wait!” “Then keep your eyes locked on me. I want you to have this burned into your memory sweetness.” With that his two fingers push back into you, his thumb assaulting your clit with rough strokes. Bo keeps his eyes locked on your eyes as you unravel. Before you know it, a wonderful rush runs through your body as you cum against Bo’s fingers. “Yes, oh my god, Bo!”

Your vision turns fuzzy as you watch him through half-lidded eyes. He keeps rubbing your throbbing bud as he replaces his fingers with his mouth. Engraving the taste of you into his tongue. With one last lick, he stands back up, “You’re like damn fine wine; too God damn good for a man like me.”

He looks annoyingly smug as he spreads your trembling thighs to accommodate his hips. If you weren’t so lost in your high, you swear you would have kicked him. He rests an elbow next to your shoulder while his other hand guides his cock to your entrance. Bo lubricates himself against your pussy; rubbing his cock up and down your folds. You can feel each vein on his length throb against you. The man was so long and girthy you wondered if it would even fit. His face lowers down to capture your lips in a kiss, “I’ll try my best to be gentle, but you are too fuckin intoxicating.”

He pushes his cock slowly into your tight cunt. “Fuck baby, I can barely move your gripping me so fuckin tight.” A husky groan grumbles from his throat when he seats his whole pulsing length inside you. “When I’m finished with ya you’ll be taking my cock no problem. Your pussy with remembering the feeling of every inch of me even when I’m not fuckin ya.” A deep flush creeps across your face at the vulgar words coming out of his mouth. You would always chastise Bo for his filthy mouth.

You felt completely full with Bo inside you. Thankfully, the aftermath of your orgasm made it not entirely painful. You were only left with a nice stretch as your walls flutter around him. Your hips move against his cock as you try to get Bo to move, “Stop holding back Bo, take all of me please!” Without needing any more convincing you both moan as he starts pumping in and out of you at a fast pace.

The sounds that fill the room are downright sinful. Bo spews out profanities at the sensation of having you completely to himself. Your legs wrap around his hips while your arms hold his shoulders. “Your fuckin mine…” he lets out a ragged breath before continuing, “There is no going back.” His possessiveness takes over as his hands slide under your waist to push you harder onto his cock. Bo is almost animalistic in how hard he is pounding into you. “I won’t let another man even look in your direction ya hear me?” He lowers his head into your neck so his lips can caress your ear. “You’re mine baby, and I’ll make sure ya don’t forget that.” One of his hands finds its way to your clit; rubbing fast circles into the sensitive bud. “Jesus Christ! Don’t stop please!” You whine breathlessly at his attentive fingers.

“I wanna hear you say it.” At first, you can barely make out his words, too lost in the raw pleasure consuming your body. Bo nips your neck while gripping you even tighter than before, “Who do you fucking belong to you?” You throw all your cares out the window as you scream his name, “Fuck! You Bo! I belong to you!” Your vision becomes spotty as you feel another orgasm about to approach. “Say it again!” Both of your bodies are slick with sweat as he fucks into you at mind-numbing speed. “I’m all yours Bo! There is no one else, just you!” With a scream of his name your pussy spasms around his cock as you cum once again. Bo crashes his lips onto yours as he feels you clamp onto him. Grunts fill your mouth as Bo’s hip stutters and he finds his own release. Warmth spreads in your groin as his cum fills you. His head falls into your neck, his arms engulfing you as he rides out both of your orgasms.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you try to catch your breath. You feel yourself being moved up the bed until your back is flush against Bo’s chest. A laugh coming from the man holding you tickles your back, “I think we’re gunna have to make up for lost time darlin’.” You can’t help but giggle as you rest your head against him. “You’re stuck with me now Bo Sinclair. I hope you know that.” Bo presses a kiss against your head, basking in the feeling of having you all to himself. “Oh sweetheart, I hope that you know that I ain’t lettin’ you out my sight anytime soon.”

Your chest swells at Bo’s words. You know it’s his way of saying he loves you since he didn’t know how to properly express those types of emotions and you were okay with that. As you snuggle closer into Bo’s embrace your mind was set. Bo had you in the palm of his hand; body and soul.

Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

fearless // bucky barnes

Summary: You ask Bucky to go to your high school former reunion with you, but when you see your ex-boyfriend there, things don’t go well.

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: undefined age gap, people are assholes to bucky, insecure bucky, protective reader, mentions of sex, angst, fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @amandalove​ for proofreading this!

A/N 2: Hope this made justice to the idea you send me @extraordinarygirl1214​, and tagging @buckys-estrella​ because you asked me to!

main masterlist

Your high school reunion was approaching and you asked your boyfriend to go with you. It had been so many years since you saw some of your friends, you wanted to know about their lives now, how much had they changed, and you wanted to share with them how happy you were to have found an incredible man like Bucky.

He was reluctant at first, you had told him about your high school days, you were popular, you were the captain of the cheerleaders, you were prom queen and you dated the captain of the football team. It was obvious your friends expected you to end up with a fit man with a six-pack that was the cover of some magazine. He knew you deserved someone like that, but instead you chose him, an overweight, unattractive man who was older than you.

He knew you were too good for him, and he was waiting for the moment when you realized it and kicked his ass.

You never liked the way Bucky saw himself, you reassured him a thousand times that you loved him and that he was perfect to you. He made you happy. None of your former boyfriends had made you feel as loved as Bucky did. You knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Bucky would do anything for you. You had him wrapped around your finger. His friends often joked about how whipped he was, not that he minded it, because he knew it was true. He would give you the moon if you asked him to. That’s why he was in your former high school, hand intertwined with yours.

You spotted your friends and smiled, walking towards them with your boyfriend beside you. They seemed so happy to see you, but when their gazes fell on the blue-eyed guy their faces changed.

“Who’s that?”

“Chelsea, Chloe, this is James, my boyfriend.” The excitement for them to finally meet the guy that had stolen your heart was plastered on your face.

“You’re joking, right?”

You frowned, not understanding the reaction your friends had. Bucky, on other hand, understood it perfectly. He knew it would happen. It was what always happened.

“Y/N, my dear, are you telling me that you are sleeping with that every night?” The repulsion on your friend’s voice made Bucky’s stomach switch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice was not cheerful anymore. There weren’t many times when you got angry, but you wouldn’t stand there and hear them bring your boyfriend down.

“What’s going on in here?” You sighed exasperatedly when you heard his voice. John Walker. Your ex-boyfriend. He looked at your friends, then at you, and then his gaze shifted to your boyfriend, asking who he was.

“Y/N’s boyfriend,” Chloe answered, making your boyfriend laugh like the woman had just told him a bad joke.

“Seriously, Y/N? It was obvious you wouldn’t find anyone better than me, but this?” Bucky was starting to feel more self-conscious and insecure than ever. He dropped your hand and turned to leave. This was too embarrassing.

“Listen to me,” your voice made Bucky stop in his tracks, “That man is a million times better than you and your tiny dick.”  Your loud voice started to get the attention of the other people in the room. “He treats me like I’m his entire world, and when he looks at me there’s actually love and adoration in his eyes. The only reason you dated me was for the sex.”

“And why do you think he’s dating you? Look at him!”

“Seriously, Y/N. I thought you were smarter than this.” This time it was Chelsea who spoke. “Besides, how old is he? He looks like my dad.”

“Can he even get you off?” John mocked.

“Yeah, he can. He can give me multiple orgasms, something you never could,” you replied with no hesitation. You wouldn’t stay quiet while he degraded your boyfriend like that.

“C’mon, Y/L/N. That lard-ass can’t please anybody.” That was the last straw. You walked to your ex-boyfriend, a smug look plastered on his face. So you did the thing you never thought you would do. You spit on his face. Shocked expressions appeared on both of your friends and your boyfriend, who was still behind you.

He wiped his cheek, “You bitch.” He raised his hand to hit you but your boyfriend stopped him, grabbing his wrist before he could touch you.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Never thought you’d have these low expectations about men,” Chloe intervened. “Look at him, he’s so violent.”

Did she really?

“Alright, that’s enough. You all can fuck off. Because you know what? You all are a bunch of superficial assholes and that’s why you are gonna end up alone, while I’m gonna marry the most amazing man on earth and build a family with him.” You grabbed Bucky’s hand and exited the gym before anyone could say anything else.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized once you arrived to the parking lot. “You didn’t deserve to hear those things.”

“Why are you apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault?”

“Because you didn’t wanna come, and I know you did it for me, to make me happy.” If you hadn’t insisted on him coming with you, none of this would have happened, and Bucky would be happy having his usual Friday night with Steve and Sam. Instead he had to go through hell and hear things that only increased his insecurities. Just for you.

“I came because I wanted to. It’s not your fault your friends think like that.”

“You’re really wonderful, did you know that?” You caressed his cheek, looking deep into his eyes. There wasn’t anger or resentment towards you. Only love.  You pulled him in, claiming his mouth. Bucky’s hand instantly wrapped around your frame. You could only focus on how soft his lips felt against you. He was so addictive, you couldn’t ever get enough of him. Every time you kissed him, time stopped and your knees went weak.

“Did you mean it?” Bucky asked when you pulled away, yet his arms were still wrapped around your waist and your faces so close that your noses were touching and your breaths were mixing. “About building a family with me.”

“Every word,” you said with no hesitation or doubt in your voice. “Do you?” You looked up to him.

Your boyfriend nodded. “There’s nothing I want more.”

“So… Will you marry me?” Bucky’s eyes widened at your question, not believing the words that left your mouth.

“D-did you… Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did. And I’m waiting for an answer.” Bucky took a moment to contemplate you, see if you were joking, but he only saw sincerity and love in your eyes. You were being serious. You wanted to build a family with him. You wanted him to be the father of your children. You wanted to grow old with him. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You wanted to marry him.

You actually proposed to him. You proposed to him. In the parking lot of your former high school, after defending him in front of your ex-classmates and your ex-boyfriend. You had stood up for him. Just like you always did. Because you loved him. You loved him more than you ever loved someone.

“Yes!” he yelled, he picked you up and spun you around “Yes! Yes!” He didn’t remember the last time he had been this happy, but he did know that all the days to come were going to be memorable. He already could picture how gorgeous you were gonna look in your wedding dress, the excitement was rushing through his veins, he couldn’t wait to share the rest of his life with you.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don���t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

[crowfootwrites]

The Boyfriend | Part II [Taza Romero x Fem!Reader]

Y'all! I did it! I wrote a second part! I actually sort of struggled with the setup of this, but once I started writing the angry, angsty shit I was like, "OH, WE IN BUSINESS." So, please enjoy.

Warnings: language; family drama (arguing); attempted physical violence; pregnancy | Words: 1,734

Part I of The Boyfriend

“What do you mean he wants to come see your motorcycle?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. It had been a few months since the ill-fated family dinner, and aside from a few texts asking about work, you hadn’t heard from your father. So, you assumed his motorcycle chat with Taza had just been polite conversation.

Taza glanced at you across the kitchen table, his full fork of frijoles pausing halfway to his mouth. His eyes softened when he saw the concern in your expression.

“Relájate, mi amor (Relax, my love). He doesn’t have to come here. I can meet him somewhere else,” he said calmly. He watched as your head dropped into one of your palms on the table and the other rested on the top of your very noticeable baby bump. He paused, then put his fork back down on his plate.

“(Y/N), maybe this would be a good opportunity to tell them,” he started, keeping his tone gentle. “I know you don’t want them involved. I understand that, and I will do whatever I can to keep things the way you want them.” He reached across the table to rest his palm against your knuckles. “But the baby will be here in a few months, and hiding it from them is just drawing out the inevitable.”

Emotions rushed over you. You knew that telling them didn’t have to mean anything more than that; Taza would protect his family no matter the cost, and if you didn’t want them involved, they wouldn’t be. But the prospect of having to deal with your mother filled you with a deep-seated dread. You knew she wouldn’t approve. And you didn’t need her approval, but your relationship with her had always been messy and complicated. And some part of you still wanted her to accept and respect you. Angry tears sprang to your eyes, which made you even more frustrated – the pregnancy hormones made you feel like you were losing your mind.

A tear dripped onto the wooden surface of the table and Taza was immediately out of his seat, tugging you out of yours and wrapping you in his arms. He smiled at the feeling of your belly pressed between the two of you.

“Hey, abejita, está bien (little bee, it’s ok). We don’t have to do anything that will make you uncomfortable,” he murmured against your ear, rocking you side to side slowly. He rubbed circles on your back as you regained your composure.

“No, you’re right,” you said with a sniffle. “We need to get this over with.”

Taza’s lips pulled into a wry grin. “That’s a wise choice, I think.”

***

“Ok, I think everything’s pretty much ready,” you told Taza as you flipped the final tortilla on the comal. He came to stand beside you and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“How can I help?” he asked as you pulled the tortilla off with your bare fingers and tossed it into the basket, waving your fingers as the heat sank into your skin. He laughed and gripped your hand, blowing gently on your scorched fingertips.

You couldn’t help the affectionate tears that collected in the corners of your eyes. In an effort to keep you as comfortable as possible, Taza suggested hosting dinner with your parents on the ranch. You would be on your own turf and could call the shots. If anything got ugly, Taza promised that he had no qualms with making your parents leave. To your modest relief, you also felt a little more like yourself today, like you’d happily tell someone where to shove it if they upset you.

“Just being here with me helps,” you mumbled, tucking yourself into his arms.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said quietly. The two of you lingered like that for a moment, enjoying the calm embrace before the storm you knew was about to happen.

And sure enough, a moment later, the doorbell sounded. Your eyes jerked immediately to Taza’s. You struggled to discern if the rolling in your stomach was pregnancy-related or anxiety-induced as perspiration collected on your palms.

He ushered you onto the back patio, helping you to sit in the worn wooden rocking chair before heading back inside to welcome your guests. You listened nervously for the creaking of the front door, which was quickly followed by the drifting voices of your mother and father.

You pulled yourself out of the chair, straightening the soft cotton of your dress over your bump, just as Taza stepped through the door. He came immediately to your side, schooling his features into a calm and neutral mask, tossing an arm around your shoulders. Your father was the next through the door and you bit back a grin at the series of emotions that passed over his face in the span of just a few seconds. Confusion, certainly, and shock, but then pride and excitement and finally, unbridled joy.

Time seemed to slow down as your mother stepped towards your father, her confused gaze traveling from your father’s face to you, eyes widening as they landed on your belly. For the first time in your life, your mother was speechless. She stood on the threshold of the patio door with her mouth open as your father rushed towards you.

“Oh, my baby girl!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a loose hug around your bump, kissing your cheeks delightedly. He turned immediately to Taza, pulling your boyfriend into a strong embrace, clapping him heartily on the back.

“Congratulations, you two! This is wonderful news! Oh, goodness, I’m going to be a grandfather!” he announced in wonderment as he pulled back, turning to his wife, whose eyes were still glued to your stomach.

“Dear?” he asked her, cautiously, but with a hint of something firm in his voice. It was something you had never heard from your father before. You wondered fleetingly what that was about.

His voice seemed to snap her out of her trance. Her eyes met yours and she smiled tightly. “Congratulations,” she forced out and you noted acrimoniously the clenching of her jaw.

Your eyes narrowed. Your heart sank with her false smile and immediately, resentment scrambled into place to protect you. You suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to haul off and smack her, but you quickly chalked that up to hormones. Probably.

Intent on making this a pleasant evening for your completely delighted father, you turned away from your mother with a withering look and plastered on a smile, motioning for everyone to take a seat at the table laden with food you had spent most of the day preparing.

Dinner was an awkward affair. Taza sat beside you, his hand never leaving its reassuring place on your thigh, as the two of you answered your father’s abundance of questions.

Baby Romero is due in November.

We’ve decided to wait to find out the sex.

We don’t really have a preference as long as they’re healthy.

Your mother’s eyes bore holes into you, but she remained silent, except for one question, manifested tersely into the space between the four of you. “Are you going to get married?”

“We haven’t really talked about it,” you replied, surprising even yourself with the strength in your voice. Your mother blinked at you, her expression disappointed, but she said nothing, returning her gaze to her plate.

When everyone had finished eating, your father clapped his hands together and asked Taza if they could take a peek at his Harley.

Taza turned to you, searching your eyes. “¿Estarás bien a solas con ella (Will you be ok alone with her)?”

You nodded at him with a wily smile. “Yo sé dónde están todos los cuchillos en esta casa (I know where all the knives are in this house).”

A loud, deep laugh belted from Taza’s chest as you stood and began collecting plates. You could see him shaking his head out of the corner of his eyes, motioning your father towards the garage.

You were standing in front of the sink, rinsing dishes when you heard the clicking of heels behind you, your mother coming to stop across the counter. You waited with bated breath for the inevitable confrontation, your stomach in knots.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked finally, a bitter edge of hurt creeping into her voice.

You looked down into the sink, realizing you were white-knuckling a spoon. “Why would I?” you demanded. “The last time I saw you, you made it very clear that you don’t approve of Che.”

“I just want what’s best for you!” she insisted, her hands clenching by her sides.

“You don’t know what’s best for me! I’m not you!” You slapped the faucet off and grabbed a kitchen towel to violently dry your hands, coming to face your mother completely. You watched as her eyes flickered quickly to your belly and then back to your face, the sight seemingly fueling her fire.

“I do know that you have no business having children out of wedlock with a man who’s twice your age,” she snapped, stepping closer to you, and your body reacted to the perceived threat, your heart thundering against your ribcage, heat radiating from your face.

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me! Che is the best partner I’ve ever had and he’s going to be an incredible father. Which you would know if you even gave him a chance, but you won’t. You refuse to accept that this is my life, and I’ll live it however the fuck I want!” You could hear your volume rising, but you were beyond controlling it. By the end of your rant, you were screaming, inches from your mother’s furious face, her eyes glinting and her lips set into a scowl. Suddenly, Taza was running into the house and coming to a stop behind you, pulling you gently away from your mother while your father tugged your mother away from you.

“I can’t believe I raised such an ungrateful bitch,” your mother spat, and you swung. Luckily for your mother, Taza had pulled you out of reach, and your fist missed her by several inches.

“Get out of my house!” you hissed, struggling against Taza’s arms, angry tears staining your cheeks.

Your father, looking appropriately mortified, dragged your mother out of the front door and into their car.

Part III of The Boyfriend

[heiterbroward]

Hiram ep

First things first, why are they trying to make a parallel between Reggie/his dad and Hiram/his dad? It's not like Reggie resents his dad for being a car salesman...he resents him bc he hit him and never thought any good of him. Meanwhile, Hiram had a kind father and only resented his class issues. Not the same at all. If Reggie had Hiram's dad, he wouldn't be in this situation bc he would have nothing to prove to a dad who already believes in him.

In fact, Hiram's story moreso parallels Archie. A "good but impressionable" kid has a kind father who wants the best for him, but the kid (for various circumstantial reasons) is more drawn to toxic displays of masculinity; therefore, despite having a good father, they still seek the approval of men they perceive as "strong" and "powerful." They also both happened to get involved w a mafia boss and were partially motivated by the desire to impress a girl. Not to mention it doesn't make sense for Hiram to respond to his father's death by becoming exactly what his father died trying to stop him from becoming, thereby making it so that his dad's death was in vain. Archie also responded unhealthily to his father's death, becoming increasingly violent and retribution-focused as a way to honor his memory and "save the town" but in doing so, moving farther and farther away from the values of compassion and mercy that Fred had tried to instill in him. Hopefully Archie learns how to be a good friend one of these days instead of just an action hero who is so selfless to a fault that it goes full circle back to being selfish and positively reckless.

Meanwhile, I thought Chad was meant to parallel Hiram and Archie was meant to parallel Fred and that Veronica choosing Archie would symbolize her making the opposite choice that Hermione made when she chose Hiram over Fred. But now Archie parallels Hiram, too? At the end of the day Archie usually chooses mercy over revenge anyway, but it's still odd how much young Hiram seemed to parallel season 2 Archie...feeling powerless to protect his family and seeking the guidance of a "strong" male figure to right the injustices he's experienced. Even Hiram's montage of waking up shirtless and running to do push-ups was reminiscent of Archie. Hmm...

Um...and why was it being portrayed that Hermione was so invested in Hiram when I thought the point was that she was actually in love w Fred but only married Hiram for money? Like wasn't she already dating Fred in the Midnight Club episode and even cheated on Hiram w him or something? But now in this ep AFTER the Midnight Club, suddenly she has never started dating Hiram. Ok...

And also who does Hermione think she is telling off Alice and Penelope bc to Hiram "family is everything" and "can you skanks say that?" It's like...no, they can't! But that's also besides the point bc it's not like Hiram or Hermione have ever actually valued their family beyond the same toxic sense of loyalty that binds all these Riverdump families together. Some nerve! When she tried to say she stayed w Hiram all these years just to protect Veronica...how u gonna lie like that? When Hiram was out here destroying her chance to get a fresh start in Riverdale. Veronica put all that effort in to really change and become a kinder person and a good friend to so many of these people just for it to all be for nought bc the moment Hiram stepped back into town, no one could ever fully trust her again or have faith in her character, including her "best friend" Betty Boop as well as people she personally did nothing bad to like Ethel and Josie. But yeah, Hiram "loves" his family! Eyeroll, miss thing. All Hiram loves is power and control.

Like am I supposed to feel sorry for this bitch bc he spent years treating Hermione and Veronica like possessions and is angsting just bc they finally moved on from him, leaving him alone with no one to control? And how is he gonna say he lost so much to get to where he is then turn around and say he's gonna get back what he lost? Like his only justification for still being bad is bc he lost so much already but jk bc he's gonna get it all back. Hip hip hooray, Jaime! I mean, why should anyone rotten on this show ever have a consequence?

Speaking of, I don't care about Reggie's dad either or feel bad for him at all. What is up w this show and forcing the narrative that kids HAVE to forgive their toxic parents? Like, wow, Reggie's dad suddenly feels remorseful once his son is an adult he can't control and is about to cut him out and leave him alone? Yeah, that's why he apologized...bc he pitied himself. Not bc he cares about Reggie. If he did, he would've tried to be a good father when Reggie actually needed a father, not beg for forgiveness now that he needs Reggie more than Reggie needs him. Selfish and useless.

Also didn't like how Hiram's backstory was used as a way to redeem Hiram and not Reggie. I wanted Reggie to hear that story and come to the conclusion on his own that he doesn't want to end up like Hiram. But instead, Reggie will beg to keep working w Hiram and Hiram will have to be the one to step up and say "no, no, you don't want to end up like poor ol' me!" Like ok? My hero! How am I supposed to care that Reggie is back in the main gang now when he's only there bc Hiram rejected him? He didn't choose the "good" side on his own, a betrayal to Veronica and his alleged friends.

But hey, at least it was an ep of Real Housewives that finally made Hiram start to care that Hermione and Veronica think poorly of him! It's not like Veronica tried to get him to change a million times and his pride wouldn't let him, even if it meant losing her for good. Guess he cares now all of a sudden! He'll prob get them both back, too, bc I guess in Riverdale, feeling self-pity about being a bad person is enough to make up for every bad thing you do. That's what I learned from Alice and Cheryl anyway!

P. S. If this is allegedly after the Midnight Club, why are they talking when I thought they forgot who each other is? And why is it in 1988 when the Midnight Club took place in the early 90s? Right...

Hey, didn't Veronica say the rum recipe has been in her family for years? Guess not!

And another thing! Fuck Hiram bc he apparently cares about Reggie so much to tell him not to be like him, but all he did was encourage V to go back down the path of acting like him and taught her that's the only way to maintain his attention/approval. Too little too late to change his mind now. And it's not even Veronica that gave him a change of heart. It's thinking about his dad bc that's all anyone on this show does. Like Veronica tried to distance herself from Hiram's stank to be friends w everyone else, but they threw milkshakes on her. And now Reggie gets to save face by joining them by default since Hiram broke up w him. Cooties.

And shouldn't Pop have looked older js?

[tg-headcanons]

Touka Was Done So Dirty So I Must Analyze It

I have a lot to say about how poorly Tokyo Ghoul turned out. There was so much wasted potential, so much meaningless angst, so many straight relationships crammed where they didn’t need to be, and so many sudden, anticlimactic plot points. But of all of the mishandling and poor choices, I think that Touka’s treatment is the worst.

Touka was a complex and interesting character. She was raised by loving parents, one of whom died early, the other lived a little longer while doing everything he could to impart lessons to keep her and her brother alive. When he died she was suddenly forced to become her brother’s guardian and rush out into a world that is so much less forgiving than her father was. They got taken in by her uncle and his friends, housed and fed, and she even got the opportunity to pursue an education which is a monumental luxury to ghouls. Despite resenting humans for the way her family was massacred and she is forced to live, she became close to a human, looking past her trauma for a friendship she cherishes. Her brother reacted badly to the idea of her being around such a dangerous person who could have them killed like their parents were, and ran off to join Aogiri, leaving her and her uncle as the last remnants of their family.

Touka is angry, and id say rightfully so. Her parents murder, being forced to grow up far too fast, being forced to live in this war she was drafted into at birth, any one thing would be enough to fuck someone up. She has all that going on, so understandable, she’s going to be pissed at the world. If it ended there it would be perfect, a great starting point for a character to delve deep into the concepts of society shaping identity, but then the worst happened

Touka is an archetype I like to call ”Angry Teen Girl”

Before we talk about the archetype, let’s talk about teen girls in real life, specifically how they’re treated by society. The teen girl in the public eye is simultaneously the epitome of beauty who is seductive and manipulative and lustful, as well as airheaded and shallow and naive and pure. The way that changes has to do with the convenience of the adult male onlooker. She’s A tactical mastermind when she doesn’t want to fuck you and she’s an airhead when she has opinions. She’s a prude when she doesn’t respond to advances and a whore when she wears a t-shirt. Most importantly, she’s a silly stupid baby when she demands independence and respect, and a grown woman who should know better when she acts her age

Teen girls don’t have the same understanding that boys their age do. When a teen boy messes up its “oh he’s 15 he’s still learning.” When a teen girl messes up its “shes 15 shes practically an adult she should know better by now.” Because adult men have decided the teen girl is desirable, she’s forced to grow up faster to save them the shame of acknowledging that she is a literal child. And after being treated like stupid children and sexy mature adults, teen girls are rightfully angry. This is so universal, so all encompassing, that almost every teen girl has this undercurrent of anger and grief at how they’d been socialized. Because of that, it too is brushed off as “stupid teen girls and their silly little feelings.”

This is where the Angry Teen Girl trope comes in. There is so much history behind women’s treatment, so many valid reasons for a teenage girl to be pissed, but this character is almost always played off as a joke. Either a joke or something to fix.

Back to Touka, let’s run through this again, this time through her eyes. Her family was perfect until it was taken violently away, she had to become violent against her dead fathers wishes to protect her little brother, that little brother who she was forced to sacrifice her bloodless life for left her for having a single friend, she lived her whole life knowing that no matter who she is or what she does the world hates her and she’s going to be murdered by the state. She has to deal with all of this, and then she meets Kaneki, who tells her to her face that he’s better than her because he was human, not realizing that not eating people is a privilege from birth that she never had. Touka is angry, and Touka is a child. A traumatized child who isn’t in the right for her violent reaction, but isn’t an adult with a peaceful world who knows better

Now if people just hated her for that then fine, but there is a huge overlap of the people who hate Touka for her aggressive personality, and people who love ayato. For every “she’s a bitch who’s so mean and super violent and shouldn’t be killing investigators when she doesn’t need to and deserves getting hurt” there’s a “he’s a sweet boy who’s trying his best and he killed all those people because he’s traumatized.” More and more, it’s clear that the same sympathy given to ayato, the much more violent and aggressive sibling, is not given to his sister. Right off the bat, she’s easy for many to dismiss because the misogynistic tropes that made her are fully reinforced

She is established as a complex person who simultaneously resents humanity for how ghouls are treated and doesn’t want them dead. She’s aggressive to her loved ones as a way to protect them and kills investigators so they don’t have the chance to threaten them. She’s angry because of how she spent her whole life just barely avoiding death at the hands of a genocidal government, she’s angry that she has to live this way, she’s even angry that she had to become violent at all and couldn’t live the peaceful life she could have had

But because she is an Angry Teen Girl, nothing matters except “But She’s such a bitch”

Now Touka at this point is still a great character, but things go south fast. The focus shifts from the world and complex relationships to Kaneki. Out of nowhere, Touka is pining after him. Out of nowhere, she has feelings for him. It was more convenient to just Insert Romance instead of developing them. Even if it stopped here Touka would still be a great character, but it didn’t.

After she fled anteiku, her character died. Not only was she completely cast aside during Ken’s Plot Convenience And Honestly Lazy Amnesia arc, but everything behind her character was stripped to its bare bones

You see, the Angry Teen Girl is only a teen for so long, and she can become one of two things: Hysterical sad evil woman or Calm Momwife. It’s a problem a lot of male authors have of only seeing a woman’s anger as a character flaw. In order to keep her as a hero, her anger needs to be “fixed,” and even that isn’t done well.

Suddenly, her drive is gone. Her love of Yoriko is completely abandoned, as is her reason to care for average humans. Her ambitions of collage and success are cast aside. Her complicated feeling towards her brother become “oh I get it it’s all cool I love him and just want him safe no hard feelings haha.” By the time we see her in Re:, she is no longer Touka. She is just the Momwife personality she got crammed into because Ishida just couldn’t think of a use for this previously complex character than “Wife And Mom.”

I’m not saying that she should have stayed angry and aggressive, but she should have stayed consistent, she should have changed over time and for coherent reasons. Such pivotal parts of her character are unceremoniously thrown out, we don’t even get a good explanation for why she turned out that way. Yes, she could rebuild her family with her brother, but it should have been built up to. Yes, she could leave Yoriko behind, but it should have any reason for it at all. Hell, I’m a die hard Hidekane fan, but I’d say she could have had a great romance with Kaneki if it didn’t come out of nowhere

She was “calmed” by having her dreams stripped from her after losing anteiku. She was given her “happy ending” by getting knocked up from desperate and uncomfortable pity sex. She was a girl who wanted to go to collage and protect her loved ones, she had queer undertones of being in love with her human fried, she had reasonable aggression as a self defense mechanism. Any one of these things could spring into an arc of their own.

But all that was thrown out in favor of being the most convenient straight love interest for Kaneki, though her personality was so incompatible with him that it had to be stripped bare to even pretend it works

If she had been given the same treatment as her brother and had her anger treated as a byproduct of the way she’s forced to survive rather than a self caused character flaw, she could have been perfect. If she’d been kept in the focus and not shoved aside for so much of Re:, she would have been good. If any part of her character at all stayed in tact, she would have been fine. But instead she’s reduced to either a Bitchy Child or Momwife. She was so interesting, and I wish her character didn’t get gutted for the sake of her male family and rushed love interest

[moonlit-jeno]

secrets | n.jm

genre/ warnings: vampire au, explicit sexual content, angst, way too much blood/ blood drinking, b i t i n g, character death (kind of), references to drugs, religion

word count: 9.5k

summary:

“I’m not scared.”

“No?” The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

notes: big thanks to @jaemallow for pushing the jaemin agenda and helping to keep me sane

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Mark grumbles at you, throwing an agitated glance over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and slow down even more just to spite him. “Dude, my dad’s going to kill me.” “He’ll be fine. Murder’s against the word of God, y’know.” You speed up despite your words, laughing at the way Mark glares at you. 

There’s a crack in the sidewalk that he trips over and you laugh good naturedly. The street leading up to the church is in less than optimal shape, littered with cracks in the sidewalk and missing chunks of cement. Mark’s dad had tried to raise money to fix the street, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Mark starts walking slower all of a sudden and you grumble, glaring at him when he grabs your wrist to yank you backwards. You’re about to ask what his problem is when you see the three figures at the end of the road, moving closer towards you two.

“You’re kidding me.” They hear it, they must, with their superhuman senses. It only makes them smile brighter. You glance at Mark. “Wanna turn around?”

“Too late.” Mark breathes, staring straight ahead of him with wide eyes. You look away from him to find the three vampires standing directly in front of you, blocking your way.

A groan leaves you and you cross your arms, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “Can we help you?”

The ringleader of the bunch, Jaemin, smiles. “Well, since you’re offering, I suppose I am feeling a little hungry.”

The church is only one block down but if they don’t want to let you pass, you’re not going to get there. Mark shifts nervously next to you, shaking his head when you open your mouth to make a remark. That doesn’t stop you from saying it. “You realize that just because you’re from the 1200’s doesn’t mean that you have to talk like you’re from the 1200’s.”

“I resent that.” Jaemin frowns, clutching his hands to his chest likes he’s been stabbed. “I was born in 1706. It’s almost like you don’t care about me at all.”

“Is it? Must be because I don’t.” The other two vampires are silent, though one of them- Jeno- watches with amusement. The other one is unfamiliar and looks like he’s trying to figure out to pair you with white or red wine. You shudder and turn your attention to Jeno. “Nice cross. I thought shit like that burned your skin? You know, because you’re a demon and all that.”

Jeno’s eyes smile with him and it’s hard to remember that he’s a monster. He brushes his thumb against the small mark under his eye, shrugging. “Nah, only the blessed ones. Or, y’know, the silver ones. But this one? I just wanted to piss off the church daddy who told me that I deserved to rot in worse places than the sewer.“

You snort before you can stop yourself. “Church daddy?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Church daddy, father, same thing.” A pause. “Hey, Mark, isn’t that your dad?”

Mark avoids eye contact and nods. “Yeah, but I like, I don’t like, speak for him, y’know?” He laughs nervously.

“You don’t have to.” That’s the one you don’t recognize, glaring at Mark. “We can tell it’s what you’re thinking. You don’t even have the decency to look at us?”

“And who are you? Their vampire bitch or something?” You snap to Mark’s defense, not wanting the vampires to prey on Mark’s nerves.

The boy lunges like he’s going to attack you but Jeno grabs him by the neck. Jaemin laughs. “Careful princess, that hits a little too close to home for our little Renjun over here.” To clarify, he leans a little closer and lowers his voice. Not like it matters, the other two can hear him just fine. “Jeno got carried away while feeding the other day and turned him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and this time you don’t have a witty comeback. Vampires are monsters, yes, but they have laws. And it is very, very illegal to turn a human. “That’s-”

“Against the law?” Jeno finishes. “Yeah. It was an accident though, plus he’s from out of town! So I can’t technically get in trouble.”

“Technically.” You mock, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, we’ve got places to be so if we could speed this conversation up?”

Jaemin pouts. “So soon? You’re already late for church, why even bother going?”

You stand your ground. “Good bye, Jaemin. Make sure you do a better job of training your new puppy.” Renjun snarls at you.

“What, like how you trained your puppy?” Jaemin nods over at Mark and the boys face turns red. “Bye, y/n, Mark. I’d ask you to say hello to God for me but he doesn’t exist!”

He walks off with that as a goodbye, Renjun and Jeno on his heels. Jeno at least has the decency to smile at you and tell you to have a good rest of your day.

They’re right about one thing: going to church when you‘re already late sucks. A few people glance back at you and Mark when you sneak in, sitting in the last row. You spot your parents sitting in the front row along with Mark’s brother. Luckily none of them notice you slipping in, so they won’t know just how late you were.

Mark seems on edge and you pat his knee, frowning at how violently he flinches. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking if he’s okay. He just gives you a tight smile. Mark’s always been a nervous kid, so you figure it has to do with the little vampire interaction you just had. Or fear that his dad will yell at him for being late. They’re both pretty scary.

It’s not until after the service that you talk to your parents- your mother taking the time to hug Mark and pinch his cheeks before she even looks at you- and your father asks where you were.

“It was my fault, sir.” Mark speaks up, knowing that your parents adore him and won’t be upset. “I couldn’t find my church clothes, I forgot that they were in the wash and had to sort through all of my laundry. Y/n was an angel and stayed with me to help.”

“Huh,” Your father says, looking Mark up and down. “Well, your shoes could use a good polishing, but you look sharp, kid. Good man.” He pats Mark’s shoulder and walks off to talk to a friend. Your mother raises an eyebrow and shrugs, loading you up with tasks to take care of when you get home.

Do the dishes, fold the laundry, remember to take the store bought pie out of the container and pop it onto a plate so that it looks homemade. “Oh, and one last thing.” She stops you, turning away from her conversation about her book club meeting with some lady that she can’t stand. “I don’t want you walking through the city. Those vampires are getting braver and braver, attacking in broad daylight.”

“Okay, I’ll take the long way.” You promise her. She nods, and satisfied that you won’t die, turns back to her friends. You say goodbye to Mark and a handful of other people- most of whom you don’t like- and head home.

You have absolutely no intention of taking the long way home. It adds an extra half an hour to your walk and you swear you always get attacked by bugs. Besides, vampires might be dangerous, but it’s not like you have a high chance of encountering one. The three you’d talked to earlier were harmless, two of them attending your same university.

Jeno did medical research, occasionally stepping in to teach if the professors needed help. He’s technically a doctor, but he finds ways to multitask. The benefits of being immortal, you suppose, is that you learn a lot, especially if you’ve been alive since the 1100’s. He was nice enough by himself, though he would never answer your questions about history. Not that he wouldn’t try, but the poor guy would just get so confused that he would end up rambling about a completely unrelated topic.

Jaemin was a little different. He took classes, though his goal was to learn about interesting topics and keep up with the culture, not to fit in like Edward Cullen and prey on teenage girls. For someone so old, he’s surprisingly good at the technology classes, learning how to use a camera faster than your much younger parents. Jaemin also holds tutoring sessions for struggling students, pretty much offering help for every subject. Sometimes he assists Jeno with his research, though he never says what they’re researching. It’s always the same vague answer: medicine.

You know them pretty well, and yet you wouldn’t say that you’re friends. Vampires and humans coexist, but it’s not always that peaceful. There’s a definite divide between the two, a definite feeling of “we’re better than them” coming from both sides. And you can see why that divide is there, you can understand why.

After all, it’s not like you’re too fond of vampires yourself.

Cursed to hell, is a phrase used too often by your parents, by the church. God’s reject’s is another. And when you look at them, it’s hard to disagree with those statements.

They don’t burn in the sun but they can’t touch silver, can’t say God’s name, can’t enter a building without explicit permission. They catch on fire when they enter holy places (they’re fine to enter the one across town, but that’s another story).

Similar insults are used to describe humans. “How can you call us God’s rejects when you die so easily?” One vampire had countered when you were in middle school, pointing out that vampires couldn’t get diseases or die of natural causes like a human. He’d called you weak. You’d thrown a cross at him. Both of you had been suspended.

Still, you don’t hate vampires. And you especially can’t hate vampires now, not when you’re failing your chemistry class and your only option for help is Na Jaemin.

Mark has a different opinion. “Y/n, you can’t go to his house! He’ll kill you!”

You laugh. “Mark, come on. It’s either he kills me, or my parents kill me when they find out I wasted my tuition on a class I failed. It’ll be fine.” He still looks unhappy. You wiggle your fingers at him. “Look! I have silver rings on. I’m wearing my cross. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling your parents you were killed by a vampire, y/n.” He sounds dead serious and you raise your eyebrows. 

“Mark, I’m helping with a research project. I’m not deciding to work for the food bank.” You point out. “This is the only way I can make up my grade, Mark. It’s generous of my professor to even let me do this.” He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing with you, and pulls his necklace off. Walking closer, he drapes the silver cross over your head. “Fine. Just, please be careful.” You smile and pat his cheek, tucking the charm under the collar of your shirt. “I always am.”

Jaemin lives in a pretty nice house on the top of the hill, which sucks because your calves are burning by the time you get up there. It has a pretty view, though, and it’s a decent distance away from his closest neighbor. You always joke that he could kill someone up here. Going up alone, that joke doesn’t seem as funny.

He’s got an old fashioned knocker on the wooden door that you only use because you’re not too fond of digging splinters out of your hands. It makes a pretty solid sound, and it barely takes five seconds before Jaemin answers the door. He looks good, wearing a dark blue button up with his hair pushed off of his forehead. Almost like he put some effort in. He obviously catches you giving him a once over and he grins.

“Eager to see me?” You tease, stepping past him into his house. He laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, of course. The world revolves around you, I just had to get a glimpse.” Jaemin drawls. 

“Alright, what’s the research project?” You ask, wanting to get straight to the point. “I’m only here because I need to pass my class, Jaemin.

He takes his time flipping through a book on his coffee table before glancing up at you, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms. “The effects of vampire blood in humans.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket. “If you say that you’re making me drink your blood, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Fucking hell, y/n. I know you humans have a problem with vampires, but I’m a researcher. I do research, and I do it just as responsibly and professionally as human researchers.” Jaemin snaps, and it’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard him not use a flirting or teasing tone. “And besides, we already know what that would do. It would only turn you.” You swallow thickly at the thought of being turned. “Then what do you need me here for?” “We just need a few of your cells and a tiny blood sample.” Jaemin says, moving to where you stand next to the counter. “We’re researching if vampire blood has an effect on strengthening human cells, or preventing undesirable circumstances that affect humans. You know, aging, disease, the like.” He hands you some paperwork and you glance over it briefly. There’s nothing about him draining you dry of blood, so you sign it. “Great. We won’t be taking the samples today considering we’re at my house, but I’ll walk you through the basics of what we’re doing. You know, assuming that you’re smart enough to understand it.” “I’m not fucking dumb, Jaemin.” You snap, glaring at him.

“No, of course not.” He sympathises, smiling down at you. “Just a little slow. Come on y/n, you’re failing one of the easiest courses at the university. You’re not exactly smart.”

You shove the papers over to Jaemin, purposely letting your silver rings graze his exposed skin. Jaemin flinches back from your touch, a sharp hiss leaving him as he grabs at his wrist. He glares at you. “You fucking serious?”

It’s mean, but what he said wasn’t exactly nice. You meet his gaze head on, eyebrow arched. “What’s the matter, leech? Can’t take the heat?” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to ground himself. It’s probably not smart to goad him, but that’s exactly what you do. “Aww, don’t ignore me, leech. It’s rude. Didn’t your parents ever teach you any manners?”

All the air in your body leaves you with a whoosh as Jaemin pins you up against the wall, wrists held over your head by one of his hands. A dull pain radiates through your body and you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your back from the impact, not that Jaemin seems to care. The boy stares down at you with dark eyes, standing way too close for comfort. 

“My parents died 300 years ago.” Jaemin snarls. “But yours are still alive. Didn’t they teach you to respect your elders?”

“You’re not older than me.” The words are intended to be fierce, defiant. They come out shaky, timid. “You’re a dead man, Jaemin.”

That makes him laugh, though you don’t think he’s found your words funny. “Yeah? Do I seem dead to you?” He tightens his grip on your wrist and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, make you look him in the eyes. “I can feel your heartbeat, little girl. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You are. He knows that.

“No?” He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side before dipping down, letting his mouth hover over your neck. “Not even now?”

You shake your head, swallowing down a whimper. He’s right about your heartbeat, it’s fluttering so frantically that you can hear it in your ears, feel it under your skin. You’re scared, but not for the reasons he thinks you are.

Jaemin smiles at you, fangs on full display, and moves even closer to your neck. The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

He scrapes his fangs along your neck, an action that’s painful in the most pleasurable way, but doesn’t break the skin. His tongue darts out instead, soothing over the pain before his lips press to your skin in an open mouthed kiss. Your fingers flex above your head and you ache to touch him, to fist your hand in his soft hair and pull him closer.

A moan leaves you and he pulls away, pressing his thumb to the area. Jaemin can feel your pulse from there and he smirks at how frantically your heart beats.

“You’re not scared?” Jaemin asks, the question condescending. He doesn’t believe you. “You do realize that I could sink my fangs into your pretty little neck and drain you dry, right?”

The mention of him biting you drags a keen out of your throat, and you find yourself whimpering out a “please” before you can help yourself. It has Jaemin pausing, eyes roaming over you as he reassesses the situation.

“Oh, you really aren’t scared.” Jaemin smirks. “Who knew that you were so fucking filthy?” He doesn’t wait for a response, dipping his head down and trailing the tip of his tongue up your throat. It feels nice, so, so nice, but it’s interrupted by a burning pain, a sob ripping from you at the intensity of it.

You thrash against his hold, but then the pain starts to get replaced with a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and you slowly melt into his touch, arching against him to expose more of your throat.

Jaemin pulls away eventually, licking over your wound a few times before pulling back to give you a bloody grin. “Feels good, yeah?” You nod, and the bliss must be apparent on your face because Jaemin chuckles darkly before leaning back in. “You want more, don’t you?”

“Yeah, want it.” The words are breathless and slur together, your body thrumming with heat, begging for more. Jaemin does the opposite of what you want and steps away.

“Be a good girl and take those fucking rings off, then.” Jaemin commands, and you swear you’ve never moved faster than you’re moving now, carelessly dropping your jewelry to the floor. Mark’s necklace lands near his foot and he scowls at it, crushing the piece of metal beneath the heel of his shoe.

You immediately grab for him when you’re done, but Jaemin doesn’t let you pull him forward. He just scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the sofa. You end up straddling his lap, his back pressing into the couch, and he wastes no time before sinking his fangs back into your neck.

“God,” You breathe out, winding your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to you. “F-fuck, Jaem, that feels so good.”

He just hums against your throat, continuing to suck and lick at the wound. There’s a little bit of blood on his lips when he pulls away and you wipe at it with your thumb before letting the digit slip past his lips. He sucks on it slowly, gazing up at you with dark eyes, and lets his fangs graze the skin. Arousal jolts through you and you whimper, pulling your hand away and dragging him back to your neck.

“Baby wants more?” Jaemin teases, not waiting for an answer before sinking his fangs into you, this spot even more sensitive than the last. You whine loudly, tugging at his hair and feeling your eyes roll back in your head at the euphoria spreading through your body. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s so much heat coursing through you that you can barely function.

“Mhmm, yeah.” You pant out. “Want more. Oh my God Jaemin, I’m so fucking wet.”

Jaemin groans at your words, one of his hands sliding up your thigh before moving inwards, cupping your pussy over your clothes. He pulls his hand away when you try to grind down, grabbing onto your hip to stop your movements.

“No.” He growls, the simple word vibrating through your entire body and making you shake. “You come from this, nothing else.”

Tears slip down your cheeks as you hold onto him for dear life, your core clenching desperately around nothing. You hug him tighter, letting your head fall back on your shoulders to expose more of your throat, your lips parted to let Jaemin drag sound after sound of pleasure out of you. It feels good, way too good considering the action, and you lose yourself to the feeling.

The collar of your shirt is tugged down and then Jaemin’s lips are attaching to the top of your breast, fangs sinking into the delicate flesh. You keen and shove your chest further into his face, not knowing what else to do besides hold onto him for dear life. Your body feels heavy but your head feels light and it’s such a startling contrast to the euphoria coursing through your veins that it makes you dizzy. It’s hard to see straight, let alone think straight, and your pussy throbs with every little bit of blood that Jaemin takes from your body. Your hips rock against nothing but air, desperately searching for some sort of friction, something to fill your needy cunt, but you can’t find anything and it has you sobbing out in frustration.

More bite marks are left, more electricity shoots through your body, more wetness drips out of your pussy. You swear you’ve never felt this good in your life, and that’s only confirmed when Jaemin seals his lips over the first mark he left, licking and sucking at the wound until it opens all over again and you feel yourself falling, white flashing behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm of your life crashes over you. You grab at Jaemin as tightly as you can, screaming his name and babbling incoherently as he drags out your pleasure, lets you get high off all of his kisses and bites.

It lasts forever, and it takes even longer for you to come down to yourself, Jaemin stroking your hair and your back. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his face clean and dry of any blood. It takes you a while to notice that there’s an ice pack on your neck and a plate of food on the table in front of you, and you vaguely wonder how long you were out for if Jaemin had time to do all of this for you.

“Don’t move too fast, baby.” Jaemin cautions, noticing you struggling to sit up. “I took way more blood than I meant to, you’re gonna feel a little weak.” “A little?” Your muscles feel like jelly when you try to push yourself off of him and you collapse back onto Jaemin’s chest with a soft groan. Jaemin huffs a laugh and helps you sit up, turning you around on his lap so that your back is to his chest. He drops a soft kiss to your ear and your eyelids flutter. 

“Here, take these.” Pills are dropped into your hand, a bottle of some energy drink you don’t recognize. “It’ll replace all the nutrients and stuff you lost.” Jaemin watches you down the drink in one go, tossing it across the room when you hand the empty bottle back to him. “How are you feeling?”

Your vision is much clearer than it was, though you still feel lethargic and would like to do nothing except lay down in a soft bed for the rest of your life. “My head hurts.” Jaemin hums. “Okay. I would rattle off some instructions for you to follow but I know it’ll just make your headache worse. I’ll write them down for you instead, how’s that.” “You’re so self aware.” Reality hits you when you feel the bruises on your throat, on your chest, and realize that yes, all of that did just happen. “Um. I didn’t know it could feel that-” You trail off, hand waving vaguely in the air. “Good?” Jaemin offers, laughing when you nod. “Mhmm, did they not tell you about that? I’m sure they make it sound like being bitten by a vampire is the worst thing imaginable at that fancy church you go to.” You look away, embarrassed, and Jaemin laughs. “You know that humans make drugs out of our saliva, right? That’s why there are hunters.” Your eyes shoot open in alarm. “Really? That’s awful.”

 Jaemin hums, nodding. “Yeah, well, when it’s profitable...” He laughs bitterly. “Anyways, it’s an expensive drug. And you just got that shit for free.”

“I feel so honored.” You laugh, snuggling into him. He pushes you back. 

“Y/n, I need you to understand something.” Jaemin says, tone suddenly serious. His eyes burn straight into your soul. “That was a mistake. I’m not- we can’t do that again.”

It shouldn’t hurt you. What you just did is considered shameful by many, you should be relieved that he’s telling you it can’t happen again. You shouldn’t want to spend more time with a vampire. “Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod, looking away from his intense gaze to blink back your tears. “Yeah, we just got carried away.” Jaemin looks like he wants to say something else, lips parting for a second before shaking his head, offering a tight smile instead. “We got everything done that we needed to get done. You should rest now.” 

He doesn’t mean now as in right this second, which he made especially clear after telling you that it was a mistake, but you can’t help it. You’re asleep in seconds.

When you wake up for the second time, Jaemin is nowhere to be found. You’re in your own bed, tucked in nice and neatly, and you smile as you realize it meant that the vampire had carried you home. There’s the list of instructions that he’d promised you on your nightstand, signed with nearly illegible hand-writing. Your smile grows before promptly dropping off. Vampires can’t get into a house without being invited. You’ve never invited him in, which means that he must’ve either asked permission from Mark or your parents. Neither is good.

The gravity of the situation hits you when Mark walks into your room, jaw set, arms crossed. He blanches when he sees your neck, the sight clearly making him uncomfortable. “Holy- y/n, I told you that you couldn’t trust Jaemin. You’re lucky I was here when you brought you home because I can guarantee your parents would react way worse than me.”

“Jaemin was fine. He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.” You see the exact moment that those words process in Mark’s mind, his face going from worried to angry.

“You let him drink from you? What were you thinking? Y/n, you look like you got mauled.” Mark sounds disgusted and you try not to shrink into yourself.

The bruises ache when you press over one of them and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment washes over you at how it makes you shiver. “Relax, it’s not like I let him turn me. We just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Mark, it felt so good.” Your eyelids flutter shut at the memory, snapping back open when Mark scoffs.

“So what? You want to be their blood bag now?” Mark’s voice rises in pitch as he yells and the sound grates on your nerves. “Wanna be a vampire whore for the rest of your life? Live in a dusty ass attic and let whoever walks by have a go at you?” “Mark, what- do you hear yourself? What the fuck is your problem?” Mark’s been your best friend since you were five. Never, never, have you heard him talk like this. It hurts.

“Do I hear myself? Y/n, I should be the one asking you that. Here you are, creaming yourself while talking about letting some fucking, some bloodsucker tear your throat open! It’s disgusting.” Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just as bad as Do-” He cuts himself off suddenly, but you know what he was about to say. “Just as bad as who? Donghyuck?” You shake your head, feeling hot tears prick at the back of your eyes. “It must run in the family to become filthy disappointments, then.”

Mark’s eyes soften and he grabs your wrist, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb. “It’s not too late for you. Let’s go to the church, you can pray for forgiveness.”

You feel numb when you nod, letting Mark wrap a scarf around your neck and lead you down the road. He sits next to you in the pews, rubbing your shoulder while you rest your forehead on your hands, pretending to pray. But you can’t focus, can’t stop thinking about your brother.

Donghyuck was Mark’s best friend before you were. The three of you would hang out a lot, though you only joined the two because as Donghyuck’s younger sister, he felt obligated to include you. The two boys were inseparable, and then one day, they weren’t.

Your parents say that he was tainted by the devil. Mark’s father says that he betrayed God. You think Donghyuck simply fell in love. And love is a beautiful thing, but not when it’s between a vampire and a human. Your brother was forced to choose between his family and his love.

In the end, he chose love. 

That night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to stop thinking about your brother. If he’s alive, if he’s a vampire. If he’s dead. What you would do in his situation. Not that it matters, because you wouldn’t fall in love with a vampire, but you can’t help but wonder. Is it really that bad? They were once human, too. 

The thought doesn’t leave your mind even when you go to the lab, meeting an uncharacteristically quiet Jaemin, and a very excited looking Jeno. “Y/n! Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yeah, well, gotta pass my classes somehow.” You laugh. Jaemin doesn’t meet your eyes when you look at him, keeping his gaze just a little too low and frowning. 

“Seriously though, this is great. I’ve been trying to get permission for this experiment for ages, the fact that the administration finally caved is insane.” Jeno says, turning to ruffle through some papers on the desk. You shoot a curious glance at Jaemin, finally realizing that he’s staring at your neck. Or well, your covered neck. He’s trying to see the marks. With a glance towards Jeno, you carefully slide the fabric of your turtle neck down, laughing silently at how Jaemin inhales sharply, lips parting slightly. You yank it back up when Jeno turns around. “Jaemin informed you of the experiment, correct?” You shoot Jaemin a look. “Yeah! You just need to take a couple of blood samples, right?” Jeno shakes his head, tilting his head at Jaemin. “Not exactly. We’re going to need you to take microdoses of vampire blood.”

It takes a moment to register. “You want me to drink vampire blood?” You screech, eyes bulging. “That’s going to turn me!” Jeno shakes his head, laughing. “With the amount we’re giving you? No. It’ll only turn you if a vampire drinks your blood, and you die. You’ll be fine.” Next to you, Jaemin stiffens. You bite your lip. “Um. Like at the same time, or?” “It doesn’t have to be at the exact same time. If you’ve been bitten before, you can’t drink any blood or you’ll be turned. But again, that’s only if you die.” Jeno tilts his head. “Have you been bitten before?” “Jeno.” Jaemin draws his attention away before you can respond. “It’s just a microdose, right? Like, barely enough to have an effect?” He considers this. “Well, I mean, not enough to have negative effects.” 

You and Jaemin share a long look. Jaemin had drunk your blood not even a week earlier. It's dangerous. But it’s a small amount. Jeno said there wouldn’t be any negative effects. And you can’t fail this class. You send Jaemin a pleading look. Jaemin swallows thickly and looks back to Jeno.

“She’ll be fine?” Jaemin’s voice is shaky. 

Jeno nods. “Caring for a human? That’s odd, coming from you. But yeah, she’ll be fine.”

You exhale heavily. “I’ll do it.”

There are more papers to be signed, more blood to be drawn. Though this time Jeno takes it in a much more professional manner, drawing it out and putting it into a test tube. Next to you, Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut and you watch his jaw clench. You want to tease him but you can’t, not in front of Jeno.

Despite Jeno’s reassurances, the worry doesn’t leave you. He doesn’t know what you and Jaemin did, doesn’t know that you’ve been bitten by a vampire. And maybe it doesn’t matter- it’s not like you’re going to die or anything, which is what needs to happen for you to turn- but you need some sort of comfort. 

That’s how you end up bailing on your Friday night dinner with Mark’s family, saying that you need to finish a project that’s due that night. Your parents roll their eyes and scold you for not taking your studies seriously, but let you skip the dinner. Mark shakes his head at you, disapproving of you working with a vampire, but keeps his mouth shut. 

If Jaemin’s surprised when you show up at his door, he doesn’t show it. He just smirks at you, leaning against the door frame. “Hey blood bag.” You scoff and shove past him into the house, dropping down onto the sofa you sat on last time. “When did you start calling me that, leech?”

“When you let me drink from you.” Jaemin says plainly, sitting next to you. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but-” “But we didn’t tell Jeno you drank from me.” You interrupt. “We need to tell him. He’s been waiting forever for this, he’ll be devastated if we ruin it.”

Jaemin nods, considering it. “Y/n, you know you’ll get kicked off the project if we tell him, right?” You nod, biting your lip. “Look, Jeno’s been my best friend for hundreds of years. I hate keeping this from him more than you do.” “Then why are you?” It doesn’t make sense. You’re certainly not friends, or at least you weren’t before last week. 

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are dark and it looks like there’s a war raging behind them, but he doesn’t elaborate on what’s bothering him. The sharp points of his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bites it nervously, blood beading at the cut when he finally looks back at you.

You don’t think when you bring your thumb up to swipe at his lower lip, skin coming away red. Jaemin watches in fascination as you bring the digit up to your own mouth, sliding it past your lips, sucking the blood away. He swallows thickly.

“Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” You ask, glancing from his lips to his face. He shakes his head gently.

“It feels good for you because of our saliva.” Jaemin explains. “But it doesn’t feel bad when you do it, it’s just-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand as if trying to pull the words out of thin air. “It’s very intimate.”

He licks his lips, then, digs his teeth back into his bottom lip. It’s a subconscious movement but you still lean in to press a kiss over where the blood pricks up, nipping just hard enough to have a growl rumbling in Jaemin’s chest before soothing the wound with your tongue. You pull away and smile, licking the blood off of your lips. 

You don’t even have time to make a witty remark over how affected Jaemin looks because he’s pulling you onto his lap, crashing your lips together with enough force that you’re sure they’ll bruise. It draws a moan from you and Jaemin eagerly drinks it in, fisting his hand in your hair and deepening the kiss. 

A gasp leaves you when he pulls away, trails his lips down your throat. You tense in anticipation, a whine getting trapped in your throat when his fangs just barely scrape the skin. He leaves a wet kiss there, pulling away to look up at you. “Want me to bite you, baby?”

“God, yeah.” You moan out, tilting your head to expose more of your neck. 

“Ah, I’d rather you didn’t say that name in my house.” Jaemin laughs. He moves back to your throat, digging his fangs into the spot he’d marked. There’s less pain this time, pleasure coursing through you almost instantly. You whine and tighten your grip on his hair.

Electricity runs through your veins as Jaemin takes what he wants, marking up your body. You breathe out something along the lines of “want more” and Jaemin takes it to heart, scooping you up and carrying you to his room in record time. He tosses you onto the mattress, crawling over you not even a second later to press his lips to yours. 

He fits himself easily between your legs, rocking his hips down in a rare show of desperation. You can feel exactly how affected he is, his hardness pressing deliciously against your core. Another plea of “more” is whispered against his lips and he doesn’t need any more encouragement, pulling away to move further down your body. He kisses and nips his way down your torso, pushing your shirt up to reveal more skin to him, dropping kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants. Your core throbs at the feeling of having him so close to you and you squirm, trying to spread your legs more, trying to articulate that you need something, anything. 

“J-Jaemin, take them off.” You whine, pushing at the waistband. “I need you.”

The coldness of his hands brushing against your skin when he drags your pants down has you shivering, squirming. He tosses your clothing to the floor and wastes no time attaching his lips to the inside of your thigh, holding you down when you squirm. 

“Is this okay?” Jaemin asks, concern mixing with his arousal. He brushes his index finger over your pussy, making your back arch in an effort to get him closer to where you need him. 

“More than.” Despite your assurances, Jaemin doesn’t touch you. He moves his hand up to your abdomen, flattening his palm to keep you pinned down. You whine in annoyance, but the teeth dragging over your inner thigh has you shutting up. A gasp leaves you before he even sinks his fangs in, your pussy absolutely throbbing with need. He presses another gentle kiss to the skin and, raising his gaze to make eye contact with you, bites you.

It’s more intense than when he bit your neck or your chest. It sets your body on fire in the best of ways, leaves you writhing under his touch. Your eyes roll in your head and your hands flail in an effort to grab something, anything to ground yourself. It’s amazing, and just when you think you’ve reached heaven, he touches you.

You’re soaking wet and Jaemin’s fingers slide into you effortlessly, fill you up so well. It’s too much effort to keep your eyes open and so you let them drift shut, let yourself fall into the bliss. There’s pressure against your lips and you open your eyes to find Jaemin hovering over you, sliding two fingers past your lips. You didn’t even realize he’d stopped biting you.

“Suck.” He commands, and who are you to disobey? You wrap your lips around the digits and hum at the taste of yourself, at the weight of them in your mouth. “Taste good, baby?” “Mhmm, yeah.” Your words are slurred around the digits and you suck even harder around them, letting your tongue trace patterns around them. Jaemin swears softly and grinds down against your thigh. 

He presses one more kiss to your lips before sliding down your body. “My turn to taste.”

Maybe there should be some sort of alarm going through your system when Jaemin lowers his mouth to your core. Some sort of reminder that he has some very sharp fangs, that he has just bit you in multiple places, and that his fangs are right in the place that fangs should never be. But it feels heavenly when he licks a stripe between your folds, when he fucks his tongue into your hole. His hands keep you pinned to the mattress, super strength coming in handy to control your squirming. 

The pleasure consumes you and it’s so much, too much, and your eyes want to squeeze shut but Jaemin looks up at you and his gaze is magnetic, making it impossible to look away from him. Your body’s on fire, burning brighter with every flick of his tongue, every moan he lets out into your core. He pulls away to drop his head to the apex of your thigh, digging his fangs into the delicate skin there, and you can’t fight the scream that rips from your throat. You’re babbling, chanting incoherent words as you try to explain how good it feels, how you never want him to stop. His hair is soft in your grip and it’s the only thing keeping you anchored, the only thing preventing you from drowning in pleasure. 

“You taste so good, baby.” Jaemin moans, pulling away momentarily to make a show of licking his lips. “Everything about you is so delicious.” He returns to your core, lapping at your hole before flicking his tongue over your clit, laughing at how your body jolts. There’s nothing but hunger in his eyes as he sucks your clit between his lips, fucking two fingers into your needy cunt. He does it again, hitting all of your sensitive spots, making you scream with bliss as you finally tip over the edge. 

Wave after wave of euphoria crash into you and your lungs burn as your gasp for air. You’re drowning in the best way possible, surrounded by nothing but pleasure and Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

He works you through it with gentle flicks of his tongue, hands smoothing over your thighs to bring you back down. You manage to find enough strength to shove at his head when it gets to be too much, tiredly sinking into the mattress when he pulls away. Jaemin wipes at his mouth and bends down to kiss you lazily, nipping at your lip just to hear you whine. He smooths your hair down and brushes a few strands out of your face, smiling down at how fucked out you are. And you’d be content to lay wrapped in his arms, with Jaemin cooing softly at how pretty you are and petting your head, but you can feel how hard he is.

“Jaemin,” You murmur, shifting in his hold. “Jaem, wanna make you feel good.” “It’s alright, you don’t h- oh, shit baby- you don’t have to.” He has to fight to get the words out, a groan interrupting his sentence when you grab at his cock. You pout at him and manage to tug his pants down just enough for you to pull him out. 

“But I want to.” You smile, leaning up for a kiss. Jaemin doesn’t bother replying, just presses his lips back to yours and melts into your touch. The way you jerk him off is lazy, your energy drained from how intense your orgasm was. Though with the way Jaemin groans against your lips and tightens his grip on your hip, you don’t think that he minds.

He moans your name when he comes, a beautiful sound that has your stomach twisting with heat. White spills over your knuckles and onto his stomach and you bring your hand up to your mouth, licking at it curiously. Jaemin watches you with heavy lids before collapsing onto the mattress. 

“Fuck,” He sighs, eyelids drifting shut. “Why’re you so good to me?” “Why are you so good to me?” You mumble back in response, curling up into him. “Thanks for not biting my pussy.” Something  about that sets Jaemin off and his body shakes with the laughter running through him. A giggle leaves you. “What?” Jaemin shakes his head, still laughing. “Nothing. Come on, gotta get you some food.” 

And that’s how it goes. You and Jaemin continue to hook up, although he does end up saying ‘fuck it’ and attempting to actually teach you chemistry. Despite Mark’s fears, he doesn’t end up killing you. He’s a lot of fun to be around, plus he keeps his pantry stocked with various snacks. Sometimes he even cooks for you, if he’s feeling nice.

“What’s a vampire doing with all this food?” You ask one day, watching him make fried rice. He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the pan and offering you a shrug, though you swear you see him blush. 

Your professor raises your grade to a C. It’s not stellar but it also isn’t failing, which you will happily take. There’s only a little bit of guilt when she beams at you while telling you how happy Jeno is with your dedication to the project. 

Jeno continues to take blood samples, and you continue to not tell him that you’ve been bitten. It eats you up inside, but Jaemin’s always there to reassure you. Whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself more is up for debate.

Everything stays the same except for Mark.

He gets more distant, grows a little more resentful. There’s no smiles or teasing jokes, except for the polite ones he flashes in front of your parents. He starts to make up lies, too, which is something you promised to never do. Excuses to get him out of plans, saying there’s nothing wrong. And your best friend, the most timid, nicest boy you’ve ever met, begins to pick petty fights with you.

You’re over it, and it bothers you even if you try not to let it show. Jaemin rubs your back and tells you it’ll be okay, but you know it won’t. Because Jaemin’s the reason that Mark’s distant. And you have no plans to stop seeing him.

Talking to Jaemin, you’re sure Mark would have liked him if the circumstances were different. If Mark didn’t hate vampires so much, or if Jaemin were just a regular human college student like you. But those aren’t the circumstances, and so you have to deal with Mark’s whiny ass showing up at your door to drag you to church.

“Mark, it’s Thursday night.” You groan, shaking your textbook at him. “I have work to do!” 

“Yeah, you also have praying to do.” Mark snaps, grabbing the book out of your hands. “Not like you even understand this.”

Which, ouch, that kind of hurts. Especially when Mark knows that you’re frustrated that you can’t get the subject down even though you try. You glare at him and reach for the book. “Mark, give it back. And I actually do understand this, Jaemin’s been helping-” “Helping what? Taint you? Turn you into one of their blood whores?” Mark grabs the book back and throws it across the room. “Y/n, come on. I’m not letting this happen to you too.” He pulls you after him despite your grumbling, though he at least has the decency to let you put shoes on. Just because you go freely doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, complaining as Mark drags you through the city. “Jesus Christ Mark, has it ever occurred to you that Donghyuck had free will? That he willingly chose to be with her because he loved her?” You’re fed up with Mark, fed up with everyone. “God Mark, they’re not that bad!” Mark stares at you for a moment. “What, they’re brainwashing you too? How is it that both you and your brother are so dumb? I know you weren’t raised like this.”

“Well at least I wasn’t raised to be such an ignorant asshole.” You snap. “I have the ability to make my own decisions, something you apparently lack.” “Oh, so what’s that supposed to mean?” Mark stops walking suddenly, crossing his arms as he waits for an answer. You open your mouth to yell at him when a flash of movement catches your eyes. Squinting, you make out a group of guys, and they’re close enough that you can hear them laughing when one of them wipes… is that blood on his mouth? “Mark, we have to go.” You whisper. The vampires don’t see you and you’re hoping that you can get the two of you out of there safely. “Come on-” “No, tell me what you mean!” Mark yells, stubbornly standing in place. You groan and try to drag him away but he doesn’t budge. “Come on y/n, tell me what you fucking mean.” You shoot a worried glance over your shoulder, surprised when you don’t see the vampires. There’s a second of relief, lasting only until you turn around to find them standing right behind Mark. You squeak in surprise. Mark freezes too, one of the men having grabbed him by the shoulders. His face presses way too close to Mark’s neck and you jump when you feel hands on your own shoulders.

“Aww, lover’s spat?” The guy holding Mark laughs. “That’s okay, we’ve all been there, right guys?” The rest of his friends cackle in the creepiest way that you can imagine. “Come on, we can resolve this.” You and Mark look back and forth between each other worriedly. There’s no way out of this, you realize. No way to even try. 

“Don’t you wanna know how we can resolve this?” This time the guy holding you speaks and it’s so close to your ear that you flinch, nearly jumping out of your skin. He laughs and his fangs graze your skin, but it doesn’t send pleasure through you like when Jaemin does it. It sends chills down your spine, makes you want to cry. “Answer me.” “N-no.” You stutter out, eyes squeezed shut in fear. “Please, just let us go.” The guy sighs and lets go of you. “Alright.” You and Mark share a look before bolting, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Freedom only lasts for a second before you’re being grabbed again, yanked backwards. 

“Stupid girl. I don’t appreciate being told no.” You whimper and you can hear Mark screaming your name, screaming for help, screaming for anything.

It’s the last thing you hear.

“Jaemin, you’re an idiot. Literally the dumbest person I know.” There’s a familiar voice swimming through your head and you try to move towards it, finding your entire body feels drained.

“Yes, I’ve been told.” Is that Jaemin’s voice? It sounds a lot clearer, drags you out of the darkness. “But look, it ended up being good, right? She’s alive.” You finally manage to pry your eyes open and immediately regret it, slamming them shut and curling into yourself. A groan leaves you and the two stop talking. “Y/N? Baby, it’s me.” There’s a hand on your cheek, brushing against the skin gently, and you press into his touch. “How are you feeling?” “Bad.” You croak out through a dry throat, cringing at how dry it feels. Jaemin laughs softly and something presses to your lips. “Here, drink this.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you get the first taste, and then suddenly you find the strength in your body to take gulp after gulp of the drink. It brings a little bit of warmth to your body, makes you feel less achy. You even manage to pry your eyelids open.

Jeno and Jaemin greet you, both men looking relieved. Jaemin beams at you, dipping down for a kiss. “Hey baby.” “What happened?” You frown, trying to remember how you got to Jaemin’s couch. “Did I- I was walking to the church and we were attacked.” Oh shit, you weren’t alone. You search frantically around the room. “Did Mark- is he okay?” The thought of your best friend- no matter how strained your relationship was at the end- dying is too much for you to handle. 

Jaemin smiles. “He’s the one that brought you to me.”

“He’s okay?” Jeno nods in confirmation.

“They only wanted to kill for fun, guess you were enough.” Jeno says. “Speaking of killing, Jaemin has a lot of explaining to do. And since I don’t trust him to do a good job, I’m going to stay here!” You look between the two. “Kill? Am I- I’m dead?” Jaemin makes a face. “Fucking- I’m a vampire?” Your words come out shrill and the two boys cringe.

“Yeah, sorry.” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “My bad. But, um, I’ll take care of you! Don’t worry.” Then, to Jeno: “Come on man, can’t we have a second of peace? I literally never thought I was going to see her again.” Jeno sighs, glaring at his friend before walking away. “Dramatic.” 

You’re in Jaemin’s arms in the next second, held close to his chest. “Fuck y/n, I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaky and he keeps his face pressed into your neck. “This is all my fault, I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you.” “We’ll figure it out later.” You tug at his hair to get him to look you in the eyes. “I almost died, Jaemin. Give me a headache later. Right now…” You trail off, letting your lips stretch wide. “Kiss me.” It draws a snort from Jaemin. “You were dead like an hour ago and now you want to fuck?” “No!” You whine and smack his chest. “I just want a kiss, get your mind out of the gutter.” Jaemin teases you some more, making you laugh and smack him to stop before you finally say fuck it and pull him closer, smashing your lips together. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body. You have a lot to worry about, but you’ve also got all the time in the world to worry about it. It makes you sick to think about, and for now, you want to just relax. Not that Jaemin seems to mind, happily letting you curl into his chest, stroking your head. You’re not alone, you have Jaemin, and you know he’ll help you through this.

+ You’re not expecting a welcome home party. You’re also not expecting to find all of your belongings scattered across the front yard, having very clearly been chucked from your bedroom window. 

“Lovely.” You scoff, staring at the mess. The front door has the biggest cross you’ve ever seen nailed to it, complete with the silver door knob that you promptly burn yourself on. You stare at the door, wondering if you should knock. It swings open before you make your mind up.

Mark stares back at you with wide eyes and parted lips. “Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Hey, Mark.” You smile, tight lipped. “Jaemin told me you saved me.”

Mark looks like he’s about to say something but then his mouth closes and he shakes his head. “Y/n, you- you’re a vampire now. I can’t.” Mark doesn’t look you in the eye when he says it and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” You mock, shaking your head. “No you’re not. If you were sorry, you would fucking look me in the eyes.” He doesn’t. “You know it’s your fault I’m like this, right?” That gets him to look up at you. There’s fire in his eyes this time. “No, it’s your fault for whoring around with vampires.” You shake your head. “Who made me go to church that night?” He looks away and doesn’t answer the question. “Good bye, Mark.”

[phemonoi]

The Thing About Myths — A Rant

This is a very complex topic. It is a topic I personally hate, and a topic that represents a barrier in the community. It is irritating, but it is necessary we address it. 

Myths are interesting sources of inspiration. They are interesting types of literature and they are impactful in each culture, a big part of what makes a culture what it is. Myths come in many ways; they are narratives that can express any truth, idea, or value a certain society holds. And sometimes they tell us a great deal about the idiosyncrasy of a people, which is incredibly useful for historians and sociologists. Myths can also be fun, but sometimes they can become... a tedious topic. In a religious level, I have noticed, myths can be come a hindrance between the devotee and the divine. 

In our path, myths are an important part of the history of our practices. Sometimes myths tells us about the way ancestors related to divinity, and the type of relationship they had. However, I must draw a line between myth as a form of exposition, and myth as a form of “truth”, to put it in some way. 

Let me be more direct: people fear the Gods because of their myths. They resent the Gods because of their myths. They adore the Gods because of their myths. Or they outright disrespect the Gods, and their devotees, because of their myths. 

A thing must be established very clearly right now: myths are not truth. Paganism is not known for being part of a tradition of “revelation”. The stories and the narratives we tell about our Gods, are ours. They’re not theirs. Anyone can write or rewrite a myth, and that doesn’t mean the thing they’re telling is a revelation from the Muses or a truth about the Gods. Mostly myths come from oral traditions, and they are deeply ingrained within the cultures that birth them; they change and evolve, they get adapted, their meaning and significance often changes as well. Myths are more cultural phenomena than religious revelation. 

Let me put it another way. In our western cultural background, dominated by religions of revelation (the abrahamic tradition), we are accustomed to seeing people belonging to these religions argue about their beliefs in reference to their myths, or their books of revelations. We often see them quoting them, and retelling the stories told there with passion, taking them as guidelines in their relationship to the divine. This is completely fine for them because that’s part of their tradition; that’s their method, and it serves a purpose in their spiritual path. However, this does not happen in paganism. 

Pagan religions do not have a book of revelations. In antiquity, the people who believed to hold absolute knowledge of the divine and preached it based on myths were mostly considered charlatans, or not taken very seriously. This is because in antiquity philosophy had the dominance over religious studies, and the philosophies available at the time considered myths to hold hidden meanings about the nature of the Gods. For example, Plotinus argued that one must not take myths in a literal way, but read them carefully and think about them metaphorically so that one could unlock the full meaning of their symbols, which often led towards a kind of platonic conclusion. Sallustius (a philosopher from the tradition of Julian, allegedly Julian himself) talks of myths as being important to our relationship with the Gods, but he doesn’t talk about that as myths being revelations, or prompting us to take everything a myth says as truth about the Gods. Sallustius was very well aware of the bad reputation myths give the Gods. They are rapists, thieves, cheaters, liars, and they often act cruelly and violently. However, because we worship the Gods, and that means being devoted to them, and that requires some level of loyalty and disposition towards them, then we must interpret these conflicting stories as more meaningful than just superficially immoral. Thus, the conflicting actions of the Gods in myths have been regarded as symbols of deeper ideas even before Plato, and even by the Stoics, and the Pythagoreans, and the Aristotelians, and what more. Even the Orphics themselves didn’t regard their myths as literal truth: one of the things one learned when being initiated was the “actual” interpretation of the superficial myth, which was more symbolic.

So this is the thing. Myths can illustrate philosophical ideas if we consider looking at them under the surface. Myths can tell us about a people’s specific values and customs depending on history. Myths can be enjoyable and fun. However, myths shouldn’t pose a conflict in our worship. 

You can do as you please with myths. You can follow Plotinus’ advice and have them be symbolical. Or you can ignore them altogether, as I do (I acknowledge the importance of myth in the plotinian tradition, but I just find them entertaining and that’s it, I don’t have enough interest in them to study them further). Or, alright, you can believe the myths and the actions of the Gods there as true in the context of our path. But then... ask yourself one thing: why would you want to worship the Gods? If you take myths as a guiding tool in your practice, and you do believe Zeus is a rapist, and Athena is an unfair bitch, and Aphrodite is a vane whore, and anything else, then... what’s the point of you praying? What’s the point of you having an altar? What’s the point of you wanting to connect to the divine through the figures of these Gods?

I mean, okay, I concede you can avoid worshipping the deities that you find to be morally conflicting altogether. But trust me; you will find immoral stories about every deity. You say, “alright, I will avoid worshipping the rapist and instead worship Hades, who is not like Zeus.” Surprise. You will come accross a myth that tells something conflicting about Hades. I promise. I don’t know any (because as I said, I ignore myths), but I PROMISE there is one. And you then will have to go through the burden of reexamining your relationship with Hades, the ways in which you disaprove of his actions in said myth, and perhaps even come to end your worship. Is this the type of path you want to walk? A path of fearing the Gods, of avoiding them, of praying to them to “stay away” from you? Really? 

OR you could just acknowledge that myths are not real. They are fiction. The Gods never commit the actions told there. Zeus never came down to earth in the form of rain to get Danae pregnant. Hera never actually made Heracles’ life impossible because of jealousy and rage. Aphrodite and Persephone never actually fought over Adonis. Apollo never really killed Orion or stalked Daphne. It didn’t happen. It couldn’t have happened, realistically speaking. So why do you believe it? Why do you choose to fear these Gods? You could simply take a myth and say, “well... this is bad. This does not align with my moral values. Good thing this is just a story rewritten by Ovid and not actual record of the activity of the Gods”. 

Myths tells us more about ourselves than about the Gods. Do not put yourself in the burden of having to hate the Gods because of their actions in stories. Do not be so immature and absorbed by our culture’s arrogance and end up “cancelling” the Gods for things a man wrote 2000+ years ago based on traditional stories, thinking of poetry and art, and not of religion. 

Stop fearing Zeus. Stop fearing Apollo. Stop fearing Hera and Athena. These Gods are much more than just figures that perform the worst acts of humanity. Give yourself the chance to have meaningful and loving relationships with them, and let others have that as well. 

I hope this post serves its purpose. 

[deepdonutkid]

Ok opinion about John and Lizzso. S1 relationship ? And if he had lived, how do you think he would have reacted to her and Tommy in s4 & s5.

Thanks anon for this ask! I will call Lizzie in the futur more often Lizzso, because that sounds extremly funny XD YASS, QUEEN LIZZSO and I know it’s a typo, but gosh, I love this typo!

I think about John & Lizzie... a lot, maybe even too much. With the setting they had, like they wanted to marry, but we barely see them as a couple... or never see them as a couple, it’s so interesting to think about those two.

The only interaction we get from these two are only after they have broken up, but they are still very friendly and compassionate about each other, which says a lot about how they were as a couple.

Every time I try to imagine them, while still being in a relationship, I picture them as friends. Talking a lot about problems and how to solve them. They are not really affectionate with each other, because of how things have started with them. It’s very likely John was a former client, who thinks he developed feelings for her, because he is sleeping with her.

A lot of people think, John is a fuckboy, and I doubt that. Even Arthur is more fuckboy than John, because Arthur acutally fucks around a lot. Let me elaborate on this:

John married young and got four kids... what a fuckboy thing to do... Just kidding, it just shows how soft John really is. I mean, neither Arthur nor Tommy married before war and neither of them had children. I think John chose this life for him, because he wanted to. He loved Martha, he loved having a family and he chose this for himself, because he likes being a father and husband. Everything around him is chaos and family is what gives his life structure and stability.

And as a man around this time, he had the choice to marry or not to marry. He could have had a completely fine life, without the trouble of getting kids. If he got Martha pregnant, before they got married, he could have also talk to her about abortion, but... he married her and raised three other kids with her.

That’s why, he is not a fuckboy ... and that’s my opinion.

So after the war John is confronted with the problem of raising four kids... alone. He knows that’s too much for him to handle alone. I bet he was sleeping with Lizzie, to just get his mind off his problems, but it was still there, everytime he was with her. And he thinks to himself: “There is this great woman, I have known all my life, who knows me, knows what life I live, still accepts me, talks with me and gets along with my children... could that be the solution to my problem?”

A part of him also wants to feel a deep connection between them, which they don’t have... not in a romantic way. John wants to sleep with a woman, he is bonded to, because that makes sex better for him and he performs better, if he is fucking somebody he loves. Love makes sex a lot better and he could fuck around all Small Heath, like Tommy and Arthur did, but that doesn’t do it for him. It’s good sex, but not fantastic or really satisfying. It’s something to calm his nerves. (Tommy does that too, but he is so cold-hearted he doesn’t bother to seek after a romantic relationship)

But why do I think, he didn’t had a romantic relationship with Lizzie? Well... because Lizzie sees him different and she is different than him. John was her client first, so all she is going to see in him... is a customer. John is a duty for her. Tommy on the other hand... I think she always had a crush on him and she is still hung up on the time before war and thinks someday she might get a happy end with him... but then they get married and she learns he will never be hers.

Lizzie and John are really good platonic friend with each other and I still want to write (actually it’s a work in progress) a fic, with a focus on their dynamic before or in season 1. John didn’t make a romantic marriage proposal and if he did... Lizzie laughed it off. It’s more likely both of them had a clean discussion about how a marriage could fix a lot of their problems. They both rationally agreed on this and then John went to tell his family about, even though he knew Tommy and the others would laugh about this plan... because clearly John isn’t the thinker of the family.

And when John learned from Tommy about Lizzie’s plans to keep working as a prostitute, he feels betrayal, because she could have told him. But instead she went behind his back and made him look like a fool. If they talked about it, they would have figured out something, that works for both of them. So John understands, he hasn’t found a partner in her... that’s not the same thing he had with Martha.... that’s not love and Lizzie is clearly not in love with him. Or why would she still sleep with other men, if she was in love with John? If she loved John, she would have a lot more faith in him, that things would work out finacially and she doesn’t have to work anymore.

John goes to Lizzie and calls the whole thing off. Lizzie realised, she is relieved, because she didn’t love John nor did she wanted to marry him. She is in love with somebody else and around that time she notices how strong her feelings are for a certain Shelby brother... who isn’t John.

Both of them go back to being friends and stop sleeping with each other, because John can’t sleep with her knowing, she is screwing others as well.

AND NOW... let’s go back to the question... if John would have survived the shooting in season 4, how would he react to Lizzie’s and Tommy’s relationship?

John as we all know him.. has a quick temper and is very hot-headed... He would be furious.

At first at both of them. He would shout and yell and when he doesn’t have the energy to do that... He would start to ignore them. keep all this hate inside him.

But then Lizzie would confront him about this and would probably say something like: “I don’t have a choice.. I want to keep the baby and therefore I have to marry him.”

John would go like: “Yeah, I know why you want to keep it. You have always loved him and not me. (bitch)”

Lizzie on the other hand would retort: “what’s so wrong about that? I can’t choose who I love... That’s just happening to me.”

John: “Why him tho? My brother is a dick... he doesn’t treat you right. He would only marry you out of duty. He doesn’t give a fuck about you and he is going to hurt your feelings.”

Lizzie: “That’S my life and I’m going to make the decision. Fuck off.”

John: “alright, fuck off.”

They wouldn’t talk to each other for week, or more likely until the wedding. John had to be there, but he would be very silent, which is not quite like him, but he feels like the second he opens his mouth he is going to say something that would ruin Lizzie’s wedding day, but he still likes her too much to do that to her. So he keeps everything to himself.

Later he would drink and yell at Tommy for destroying Lizzie’s life and confront him in private about it. 

And he would be mad at Tommy for like a year at least, because he can’t forgive Tommy for treating Lizzie, the way Tommy does.... and it’s actually a good thing John died, before seeing them together, because I believe, John’s disagreements with Tommy would only become more violent, after Lizzie’s and Tommy’s marriage. And slowly John would start to hate Tommy... Not like John would actually plan to leave or do something against Tommy, but he would be bitter and resentful the whole time. He can’t leave Tommy, because they are brothers and John has a strong sense of family, but he would pick a fight with Tommy to every given chance.

He and Lizzie would be friends after a while, but his relationship with Tommy would be ruined.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

-TW: Physical and emotional abuse done by mother and Stepfather, abandonment/absence of biological father, mental illness, suicidal ideation, domestic violence

-Seeking advice and reassurance-(This is mostly a way for me to ask if she's just really good at gaslighting or if I'm overreacting)

My mother is usually the one considered kind and loving by my entire family, but she has very high expectations for me since she wasn't ever able to do anything she wanted with her life after getting pregnant with me. A long time ago, when she found out my dad was cheating she confronted him and he got violent. She told me that she ended up stabbing him in the eye and fleeing to my grandparents house with me. While living there, I was left alone frequently all day or left with people unfit to care for a child while my mother was at work. She would sometimes just not come back untill the next day, and when she did return, it wasn't pleasant. After we moved out of there, my mom started dating my Stepfather, and while he loved me, he wasn't good at parenting at all either. When he was frustrated or angry he'd yell, and when I did something 'wrong' he'd punish my physically (He'd get angry at me for talking too much, struggling with school work, not watching the road while he drives, stuff like that.) I remember complaining about tooth pain so much, that he grabbed an old wrench, forced me down, and pulled the tooth untill it was out all while my mom watched begging me silently to just stop struggling so it'd be over with. He'd also force feed me if I couldn't eat all he made, drive recklessly to scare me, and force me under hot water before hitting me with a belt or switch so that it'd hurt more. When I told my mom about this stuff, she said that since that was how he was raised, I should be thankful that it's not any worse that it was already. Even though she defended his actions, they still fought a lot (physically and verbally) and since he had a lot of health issues it usually ended as a one sided battle. Soon, he died from a heart attack which put my mother into a depressive episode for a few years. I was expected to preform well in school, while she would ignore me in favor of work or social media; sometimes yelling and pushing me around when I asked her to go to the grocery store or to make food. When covid struck soon after my stepfathers death, she got even worse. She had to quit the job she's had for years and find a better paying one. It lated from 12pm-1am and I was always going to sleep crying or hungry because there just wasn't enough time for anything. We fought every night, and she would always attack my self confidence, poking at things I disliked about myself. A few times things got physical, but I was too afraid to do anything back except for run. My grades dropped significantly, and my mother started threatening to share my private school information with her new boyfriend. One day, when she and him confronted me about it, I accidentally reacted badly to a sudden movement out of fear, (I said this "if you hit me, I'll record it bitch") and she grabbed me by the hair and just kept hitting me on the head, face, neck, wherever she could reach continuously yelling at me to apologize. After that I had to write 200 lines about how I would never disrespect her again. A few months later, I tell my teacher what's been happening and he calls CPS. Every social worker that came by just made things progressively worse, so I started lying just to get out of the situation. I didn't have my own room or bed so I had to stay right there with her no matter what happened during the day. I just want to know if it's okay for me to feel deep resentment for my everyone involved? As I stated before, my stepdad had diabetes and actually ended up as an amputee eventually so feel like I should've been able to protect myself.

(Also, I already submitted an ask like this but I couldn't find it so I'm submitting it again. Sorry if that's not what I'm supposed to do.)

Hey anon,

You are definitely not overreacting. All of what you're describing is abusive and absolutely not okay. You deserve so, so much better.

You do not need to be thankful that the abuse you're enduring isn't worse. That is a manipulative idea used to try and control you. You deserve safety, respect, kindness, and care.

Your feelings are valid. You are completely justified in feeling resentment. There are so many adults who have failed you. You deserve better. You are a wonderful, worthy, important person. None of this abusive treatment you're experiencing is your fault, nor is it justified.

I hope you're safe now.

- Misa