#The End of All Things REWRITE: Short Story
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Do you know about Ludwig Bechstein? Well you should.
But do not worry: if you never heard of his name until now, it is perfectly normal. In a similar way to madame d'Aulnoy in France, Ludwig Bechstein was one of the great names and influential sources of the fairytale in Germany, but fell into complete obscurity due to being overshadowed in modern days by a contemporary (Charles Perrault for madame d'Aulnoy, the brothers Grimm for Bechstein).
Ludwig Bechstein was, just like the brothers Grimm, a German collector of fairytales (Märchen in German), and just like them he published an anthology of them. However, whereas the brothers Grimm started publishing their work in the early 1810s with re-editions later on, Bechstein published the first volume of his collection in 1845, and the second volume in 1856.
And here's the thing: Bechstein was MUCH, MUCH more well-known in Germany than the brothers Grimm, for the rest of the 19th century. While yes the brothers Grimm were a big success and a huge best-seller, Bechstein's fairytales were even more so. In fact his fairytales were THE de facto German fairytales of the 19th century - until the brothers Grimm's international celebrity (because their fairytales had crossed the Germanic frontiers into English and French-speaking countries, while Bechstein's had not) came back and made their own fairytales overshadow, and then completely eclipse/bury Bechstein's own fairytales.
Why is this important? Because Bechstein had in his collection several fairytales that overlapped with those of the Grimm: for example, as I will show above, both collections had an "Hansel and Gretel", and " Little Red Riding Hood". But while we know today the Grimm's version better, it was the Bechstein's version that the 19th century children knew about. And there is one big difference between the two sets of tales: while the brothers Grimm were obsessed with an "accuracy" of the stories (or what they believed was an "accuracy"), stitching stories together or writing them so as to create what felt like a traditional oral story as it would be told to you by a random German person, Bechstein allowed himself a more "literary approach". He never reached the level of an Andersen or a d'Aulnoy that would entirely rewrite a folk-tale into a long poetic epic... But he allowed himself to correct inaccuracies in the stories he collected, and to add personal details to make the story fit his tastes better, and to develop the dialogues into more than just nonsensical little rhymes, so while he kept short and simple stories like the Grimms, they definitively were more literary stories.
To give you two good examples of the differences, here are Bechstein's changes to the two stories I described above.
The main change within Little Red Riding Hood is Bechstein making the girl more intelligent and well-meaning than in the Grimms version, and the Wolf's deception even more devious. When the wolf tells the girl she could go pick up flowers and play outside of the path, like in the Grimm's tale, Bechstein's Riding Hood stops and asks roughly (not a quote I recap here): "Hey, mister Wolf, since you know so much about herbs and plants within this forest - do you know about any medicinal plant around, because if there is an herb that could heal my sick grandma, it would be super cool!". And the wolf jumps on the occassion, pretending he is a doctor - and he lists to her a whole set of flowers and herbs and berries she can pick up that would heal her grandmother... except all the plants he describes to her are poison, and the Wolf just mocks his intended victim. The joke also relies on the fact that all the plants he lists are named after wolves, with the beast convincing the girl it is because wolves are good and great things. (There's the wolf's-foot, the wolf's milk, the wolf's berries, the wolfswort - names which do correspond to real-like plants such as the spurge laurel or the aconit).
The ending is also slightly modified. The hunter is attracted to the grandma's house by hearing the unusually loud snoring of the wolf - he thinks something is wrong with the grand-mother, maybe she is dying, only to find the wolf in her place. He immediately grabs his rifle to kill it but then pause wondering "Hey, the little grandma is nowhere to be seen... and she was a scrawny woman... Better check if he did not eat her". And so he opens the wolf's belly (and the wolf is still asleep during all that, he really is a deep sleeper). When the humans decide to put stones in the wolf's belly, they explicitely reference in-universe the "Wolf and the seven goats" story, which gives them the idea. (Quite a fun and accurate detail since we know that the brothers Grimm attached the episode of the stone to the Little Red Riding Hood story by taking it from the "Wolf and the seven goats" one)
As for Hansel and Gretel, the witch is described differently from the Grimms (she is still a very, very old woman who has something wrong with her eyes, but she isn't red-eyed like the Grimm, rather she has "grass-green" rheumy eyes, and she has no cane or crutches, Bechstein rather insisting on her being a hunchback and havin a very, very large nose.) But the main difference occurs in the climax, which is very different from the Grimm.
The witch still tries to push Gretel in the oven, but she doesn't ask the girl to check if it is "hot enough". Rather she put bread in it to go with her Hansel-roast, and she asks the girl to check if the bread is brown yet. And Gretel is about to obey... when the snow-white bird that led them to the house reappears and warns her of an upcoming danger with human words. The girl immediately guesses the trick, and pushes the witch in the oven. Second big change: the "treasures" the children obtain are not the witch's, nor do they find it on their own. As they exit the house, the treasure literaly rains on them - because all the birds of the forest arrived and dropped the precious items on them while singing "For the crumbs of bread / Pearls an gems instead". As the children understand, the birds were grateful for what they believe was food offered to them (the bread crumbs) and reward the children with the treasure.
Oh yes and the mother (no stepmother here) doesn't die. Rather she and her husband are miserable in their house because they regret leaving their kids, so they are very happy when they return, and with the treasure they all are certain to never go hungry again. Happy end. (Because here the mother isn't a bad person like in the Grimm - she just really, REALLY was a desperate woman who didn't want to see her own children die before her eyes)
#little red riding hood#hansel and gretel#german fairytales#ludwig bechstein#bechstein fairytales#brothers grimm#grimm fairytales#grimm fairy tales#german fairy tales
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The End of All Things - REWRITE
On July 6th, 2018, I succumbed to some self indulgence. Six years later, let's do it again.
Featuring @deltheor 's Sydney ~
Pongo knew.
The official BLADE report never made it into the public eye, but he knew Elma, and Elma knew everything, so he got the information out of her. While Pongo had been out on a forced vacation, Sydney had Brainjacked seventy percent of NLA’s population and had taken them to Cauldros, where he’d set himself up in a Ganglion fortress to play the role of false king. Elma showed him the witness reports, people recounting being controlled, people recounting their efforts to stop him. An elite team of Brainjack users were able to take him down, in the end, but even that almost hadn’t been enough.
The rumors spread like a disease throughout NLA. He still walks among us, Pongo once heard. He’s been stripped of his rank, so hopefully he won’t be allowed anywhere near a knife again. I saw him in the residential district once - do you think he’s planning how to do it again?
It hurt. The rumors had nothing to do with Pongo, yet he still felt their sting. He could only imagine how deeply it was affecting Sydney.
In the end, the rumors and the official reports combined were enough for Pongo to make a decision.
He pulled out his comm device and called Sydney just after noon. Someone had given Pongo his number a long time ago, long enough that Pongo couldn’t quite remember who it was. Sydney didn’t respond. Frantic, Pongo kept dialing and calling, dialing and calling, dialing and calling, come on Sydney why won’t you pick up -
“The fuck do you want?!”
And suddenly, everything Pongo had planned to say vanished into thin air. Gods above, Sydney’s anger was something to behold. Pongo knew he had to be quick, or Sydney would hang up.
“H-Hi, Sydney,” Pongo started. “We, um…we need to talk.”
“We’re talking right now, dipshit.”
Damn it. Damn him. Pongo released a shaky breath, trying to keep himself composed. “I meant in person. This is not something I can talk to you about over the comm device.”
“I’m busy. You should spit it out and stop wasting my time -”
“Not over the comm device.”
Pongo hadn’t meant for his tone to get so strained, so forceful. Sydney didn’t respond immediately, and he almost wondered if the (former?) Interceptor had hung up after that little outburst. However, after a moment of silence, he got a response.
“Alright, fine. When would you like to plan our little date?”
Pongo swallowed hard. No, Pongo, it is not a date. Do not get your hopes up. He shook his head, then responded, “Well, um…do you know of that elevator by the West Gate? The one that leads to the very top of the walls of NLA?”
The location held many good memories for Pongo; that was the same elevator he’d taken down to the Industrial District, the very first time he’d stepped foot into the city. Back then, he had no idea who he was, or who he was meant to be. In recent months Pongo found himself revisiting the location, if only to reminisce on the past. Others had called this insight into himself and the hearts of others a blessing, and perhaps he could use this talent to…well. To see Sydney.
“I know the place,” Sydney said, again knocking Pongo out of his stray thoughts.
“Would you be able to meet me there tonight? Maybe around eight?” Pongo asked.
“Sure, I guess. See ya then.”
“Right,” Pongo said, but the dial tone hit his ears before he had gotten his full response out. With a sigh, his hand lowered, and pressure built behind his eyes. Shoving his comm device in his back pocket, he looked to the horizon. The sun was high above him, a promise that the day was still young. It would be a painful wait until the appointed hour arrived.
~
Pongo found himself waiting at the bottom of the elevator fifteen minutes before eight. This corner of the city was quieter than he expected, but then again, this was the Industrial District. Outfitters, arms manufacturers, and construction workers hurried about the district in a mad frenzy. The chaos usually calmed his nerves; he felt at home in the hustle and bustle, the high energy that came with BLADE’s intellectual conquests. Yet tonight, as he’d been walking towards the meeting point, Pongo had briefly considered getting a drink at the Repenta Diner. Frye had once told him that spiking a coffee wasn’t out of the ordinary, and Pongo had seen first-hand how alcohol soothed aching hearts.
This was something he needed to be sober for, though, so in the end, Pongo had gotten a water from the diner. He’d nursed it in his hands and had taken two sips before discarding the cup. He wish he’d kept it now, as he had nothing to do with his hands aside from wringing them together. Sweat built beneath his palms, the friction of his gloves providing some level of distraction from his own thoughts. Funny, how he allowed himself to feel this. Funny, how it didn’t serve to distract him from the truth.
“Pongo? Helloooo? Anybody home in there?”
Pongo blinked a few times, and when he regained focus, he saw Sydney standing right in front of him. How long had he been standing there?! Gods above, Pongo was out of it, huh? He could even smell Sydney’s cologne - it was one of his favorites. Jasmin, saffron, cedarwood. An expensive blend. Pongo stepped back, his heart fluttering under his chest.
He did not wear this for you. Stop it.
“H-Hi,” Pongo stammered, “sorry about that, I just…”
“Lost in your own head?” Sydney guessed, raising one of his pierced eyebrows in annoyance. “Happens, I guess.”
“Right. Yeah,” Pongo grinned sheepishly, finally making eye contact with Sydney. What was the human saying again, something about eyes being windows to the soul? If that was the case, Pongo could see through Sydney, and in that brief moment, he saw the truth. Sydney was happy to see him.
That made Pongo want to cry.
“So what’s so important that you couldn’t tell me through comms, huh?” Sydney asked. “You’re an old-fashioned fucker if you prefer talking to people in person.”
“Then call me old-fashioned, I suppose,” Pongo laughed nervously, “I, um…I think this is going to be too important for comm messages, is all.”
“Guess I’ll be the judge of that,” he huffed, “so get on with it. I don’t have all night.”
Right, he said he was busy. Pongo needed to get to the point. But at the same time, BLADEs were flying past them both, some casting looks over their shoulders. Damn it, he should’ve thought about how busy it’d be here.
“We should find somewhere quieter,” he suggested, expecting some form of backlash.
To his surprise, however, Sydney shrugged. “Whatever floats your yacht.”
“I do not own a yacht.”
“...I’ll rent you one of mine, sometime. Maybe I’ll throw in a one percent discount on the rental fee, too.”
Pongo’s eyes started to sting as he held back tears. The offer sounded so genuine, so real. Do not get your hopes up.
“I would like that,” he said softly, feeling his heart begin to rip itself apart. He turned away from Sydney before he could say anything else.
Pongo stepped onto the elevator platform, using the controls to send it to the top floor after Sydney had embarked. It was a long way to the top, so once the elevator fence came up and they began to ascend, Pongo found himself sneaking a glance at Sydney. He was facing away, observing the city below. It was an array of colors and lights under the darkened sky, replacements for the stars that didn’t shine that night. Sydney’s head turned slightly, and Pongo could see those same lights reflected in his eyes. What a vibrant red they were, the color of power and blood and undying strength.
Red, the color of love.
The first tear fell. Pongo wiped it away with the back of his glove, wincing when he pulled his arm back. He’d done it too rough, and now his cheek hurt. Not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to leave a memory.
The elevator came to a stop at the top floor. Pongo stepped out once the railings came down without acknowledging Sydney. He came to rest his arms on the fencing along the platform, staring down at NLA. This was where Elma had taken him when he’d first entered the city, when Pongo was unsure about who and what he was. There was a kind of poetic satisfaction in returning here, a satisfaction in knowing that he had found himself.
Though…had he?
No. Pongo wasn’t here to throw himself a pity party. Just push the feelings down, as you always have and always will.
“So…” Sydney said, leaning back on the railing to Pongo’s right, “what do you want?”
Pongo didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he let it go in a shaky exhale. Maybe he could save himself. Maybe he could find a silly excuse and have Sydney get mad at him for wasting his time. Maybe he could find another way to get the answers he needed.
But he couldn’t do any of that in good conscience. He had to face this - and so did Sydney.
“Elma gave me access to the BLADE reports,” he finally said. “They, um…you Brainjacked over seventy percent of the population.”
Silence. Pongo didn’t have the strength to look up at Sydney, to gauge his reaction through his facial expressions. Yet the air shifted, a tension that was nearly unbearable. Pongo opened his mouth, too uncomfortable to remain quiet, but Sydney beat him to the punch.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
A confession. Pongo gazed upwards at that, finding that Sydney had turned around to assume the same position as him. He was staring out at the city lights, his brow furrowed. From the profile, he looked…
He looked sad.
That was what Pongo had been searching for. That was the answer he needed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Sydney spat out in response.
“Sydney -”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, sharper this time, “why do you even care?”
Because I care about you.
He couldn’t say that. He shouldn’t.
“Because Elma also told me you suffered some kind of amnesia afterwards,” Pongo answered, “that you did not remember most of the time in Cauldros. It just…from everything I heard, I do not think that the one who Brainjacked everyone was truly you.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Sydney’s voice rose, “Of course it was me!”
“No, no, Sydney, listen to me, that was not you -”
“SHUT UP!!”
Pongo flinched back at Sydney’s order. Sydney’s eyes were glazed over, tears trailing down his cheeks. He hunched over to hide his face, an ugly sob emanating from the back of his throat. It took every bit of willpower to resist rushing forward, to resist wrapping him up in a hug, to resist telling him that everything would be alright.
I will not be able to let go if I hold him now.
“I don’t even know why you wanted to see me,” Sydney nearly shouted as he straightened his spine, spinning around to finally face him. “You know what I did. The entire fucking city knows what I did, but I don’t even fucking remember what happened. What, did you wanna point and laugh at the asshole who ruined lives for shits and giggles?!”
“It was not you,” Pongo pleaded, unable to hold back his own tears.
“Then who the fuck do you think I am, huh?! Who are you to tell me who I am and what I’m capable of?! I’m a fucking monster -”
“You are not a monster!!” Pongo cried, “You are not the same person as the one who Brainjacked the city!!”
“Oooh, so that was a fucking clone who did that, then?!” Sydney retorted, “Answer the fucking question, asshole - who am I?!”
Pongo swallowed hard, forcing himself to stare into Sydney’s eyes. His makeup was starting to smear, a black tar staining his cheeks. As Pongo spoke, his voice rose, gaining more and more strength.
“You act vain and narcissistic and you hardly care about anyone other than yourself. You buy things because you think it makes you happy, but you are never happy, because you think you are undeserving of everything you have been given. You act as though you only care about yourself because you do not want anyone showing you the slightest hint of compassion, and it is because you are terrified, Sydney, you are terrified of being loved because you think you do not deserve it, but damn it Sydney you do!!”
“I don’t deserve shit,” Sydney faltered, but now Pongo was shouting, now he felt too deeply.
“YES YOU DO!! Are you living?! Breathing?! Then you deserve someone who loves you, someone who will be there for you through thick and thin, someone who sees past all of your flaws and sees you for your heart!! Fucking hell, Sydney, I lo-”
He caught himself.
“I know you deserve to be loved because I know you are a good person deep down!! Everyone deserves to be loved no matter how many times they have fucked up, and I will not sit back and watch you believe you are undeserving, because YOU ARE!!”
Pongo’s voice was cracking, a mirror to his heart. His breaths deep and painful, he stepped back, hitting the rail. The metal provided a cool sensation against his hands, welcome in the heated moment. Sydney looked shellshocked, eyes wide and unblinking. Pongo had never seen this expression before, and despite his fury, the sight made him near-nauseous. He had to close his eyes, a gentle breeze finally coming to soothe him, caressing the hair sticking to his face.
“The fact of the matter is that you have changed,” Pongo quietly said, controlling how his voice shook. “You put on the same act as before, but deep down…I see you, Sydney. I do.”
Silence, eternal. Pongo sighed. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t keep doing this. Getting attached, getting his heart broken when there was nothing left to break.
“I am sorry if you had somewhere else to be,” he apologized, “I got my answer. I will leave you alone, if that is what you want.”
Pongo let go of the railing, straightening his spine and turning back towards the elevator. The silence remained deafening, and his thoughts raced to devour it whole. His own voice echoed in his ears, remnants of his anger, reflections of his soul. The anger was not towards Sydney, he concluded quickly, but rather towards himself. How could Pongo have been so stupid, to get this close to Sydney? The happy-go-lucky Interceptor with a heart of gold, with friends in every corner of the city and beyond, a man who dreamed and hoped and wished for more. That was selfish. That was greedy. That was wrong. He wasn’t allowed to wish for a deeper connection because he was destined to love and never be loved in return. That was his punishment, his sentence, his -
A hand, quickly grasping his. Metal under his skin. A whisper, a plea in the dark.
“Don’t go.”
Pongo wasn’t strong enough to keep his gaze fixed forward. He looked to Sydney, to the quivering form that had stopped him from leaving. He was a shell - or perhaps, this was the original Sydney, the one who was showing his true colors after years and years of hiding in plain sight. And his true colors were beautiful in every sense, vibrant red and gold and white. His palm pressed in Pongo’s own was a dream, a hope, a wish come true.
Pongo looked down at their intertwined hands. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.
And yet…
Could he allow himself to be selfish, just this once?
He didn’t give himself enough time to answer that question. Pongo brought Sydney closer, wrapping his other hand around the back of Sydney’s neck, pulling him in, in, in - and their foreheads touched, skin upon skin. Pongo forced himself to keep the space between their mouths, though he cherished the small contact made between their noses. Do not get closer, he told himself, his last shred of control.
But the little voice in the back of his mind, once smothered, echoed out. You are allowed to want this.
His resolve finally shattered.
“Okay,” Pongo breathed. “I am here.”
And he sealed the distance between their lips.
Sydney was wearing lipstick, Pongo discovered, and he wondered if this sudden kiss would smudge it. It would certainly appear on Pongo’s mouth, and he battled with whether or not that was a point of excitement or defeat. He tilted his head ever so slightly, adjusting so he didn’t aggravate Sydney’s piercings. Sydney’s cologne overwhelmed him, that same mix of jasmin, saffron, cedarwood. Pongo could drink deep of it and never be satisfied.
But he pulled away, eventually - after he realized that Sydney was not reciprocating the kiss. Pongo didn’t meet Sydney’s gaze, everything crashing down on him all at once. He had to say something. He had to come up with an excuse. This is the end of everything. You never deserved to get this close, and now you have to pay for it.
“I am so sorry,” Pongo whispered, “I should have…I should have asked first. I know this would not work, but I just...”
He wiped his tears from his face, turning away. His heart had skipped several beats, and he wasn’t sure why the air suddenly felt so heavy, so constricting. He deserved it, still. He deserved to get smothered in the pain. Friend of the world, closest to none. How could someone like him ever hope for more?
The elevator was enticing, too enticing. But he told Sydney he was here, that he’d stay. The honor took hold of him, so his feet refused to move. Better for him anyways - he had to be here for the fallout, both self-inflicted and external. Gods, he should’ve left when he had the chance. He should’ve ripped his hand out of Sydney’s and spared them both the pain. How deeply, horribly selfish indeed. A hypocrite, a fool, and above all else -
Sydney’s hands found their way to Pongo’s cheeks and pulled him back in.
There they were, kissing under the moonlit sky. It took Pongo only a moment to recover from the initial shock, and then he crumbled, his defenses completely destroyed. One of Sydney’s hands shifted backwards, entangling in Pongo’s hair, and the other fell down to cup the space between his neck and shoulder. Pongo’s arms, out of desperation, wrapped themselves around Sydney’s hips to draw him in closer. He thought this would ground him, but instead he found his thoughts floating in a pastel haze.
Sydney was the first to pull away. Chasing the high, Pongo nearly followed his lips, but as they caught their breath, Pongo couldn’t hold back his relief. He laughed, soft and warm, keeping his hands around Sydney’s waist. Hells, he’d been right before - he couldn’t let go, now that he’d taken hold. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Sydney’s thumb came to trace the skin under his eye, wiping away a wet streak of newborn tears.
“I don’t know what this means,” Sydney whispered. “For you, for me…I don’t know what any of this means.”
“It does not have to mean anything if you do not want it to,” Pongo replied, his smile weak but honest.
“But I want this to mean something. You deserve that.”
“You deserve it, too. You always have.”
Sydney swallowed hard. “I…I don’t know if I believe you, yet. But I want to. Damn, do I want to.”
Pongo didn’t respond, but his smile strengthened. He knew Sydney believed that, and he’d do everything he could to prove him right. That he was deserving. That he was loved, loved so much that it hurt.
And maybe…maybe Pongo could believe that for himself, too. That he deserved the same.
They stared out into the city after that, hand in hand. The silence became their friend.
#xenoblade x#The End of All Things REWRITE: Short Story#sydney#yea. yeah#i dont really know what to put here tbh#damn this self indulgent shit...PART TWO#also if you saw this accidentally posted to my main acc#no you didnt! i fought tumbles and won!!
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I know 'person with secret to hide spots other person with secret to hide but doesn't say anything' is like. Thee trope in superhero crossovers, but come on! Some of these guys have been doing this for decades! There's tons of heroes that have gone to pretty extreme lengths to be Completely Imperceptible in civilian life.
Don't you think it's scarier, after all is said and done, to sit there and think I didn't notice a thing? I wouldn't have ever realised? I would never have known? To know that someone you were familiar with - close with, even! - had this whole other personality and skillset and powers and experiences and life just behind the curtain, and they hid it so completely you didn't even see it was there.
'I always knew there was something off' what if you didn't. How world shaking would it be to be so utterly blindsided? To know that this person had somehow learned to so deceptive?
#Strongly inspired by the dp x dc where Danny knows what up IMMEDIATELY or a bat clocks Danny as super suspicious within mins of meeting#Or the amount of reveal fics caused by the hero slipping up in some stupid way and getting themselves doxxed against their will#Like come on!! Full time heroes like superman or batman or Spidey go to great lengths to construct an entirely separate civilian persona!#And yes I know they've had their idiot moments when it comes to their identities but they've kept their secret rock solid for irl DECADES#What's an identity reveal without drama!! Shake it up! Stir the pot! Not a slow and gradual build up of suspicion and stress#But two high speed trains coming at right-angles and the audience is the only one who can see the incoming crash#Twist the knife in if you want. Make it HURT. Make it completely rewrite what they believed.#Short ID reveals are great for this because you can SEE the ripple effects spreading out as the story ends. Just BANG.#But also no ID reveal at all. The main character goes through the story regularly interacting with and developing character right alongside#A hero in hiding and no one is ever the wiser. You're a worker in WE fending off attempts to steal your inventions and Bruce Wayne#Invites you to his office to discuss security and he walks you back to your office when you get nervous about a break in.#You're struggling with school bullies and getting into trouble over your photography hobby and Peter Parker is right there alongside#You complaining about rich kids and fiddling with the outdated finicky lenses you got from the school.#You're a reporter unpicking a mystery scandal and you ask resident tank Clark Kent if he's able to play bodyguard if you go somewhere shady#The reader knows. No one else notices a thing.#And besides focusing on the civilian side is a nice change of pace! Let's see how they manage leading double lives!#What do I even tag this#batman#superman#Marvel#Dcu#spiderman#secret identity#identity reveal#long tags#captain marvel#miraculous ladybug#I know I know#hero and villain
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Im gonna do whats called an Euripides move
#spin the tale around for so many stories of the bible and yet still follow the plot just to mess with people's heads:#On blast rn (most of these are tragedies):#A tragic love story betweeen Absalom and Mephiboshet#Another tragedy of Neptolemous becoming sympathetic and regretful of the things he has done in war only to get killed by his actions#The tiny story of Abbadon and Azrael witnessing the beginnings o the heavenly war and the end of time in the rapture.#Another short story of Satan forgetting his angelic name (symbolism) and trying to find Michael to help him remember.#Another short story of Gabriel falling in love with Michael and asking Miriam for help about human feelings.#Testament of Solomon rewrite where he keeps talking with the demons about their pasts and just shenanigangs#Uriel's adventures in deep space and the many extraterrestrial beings that appear. (I literally want to get a biology degree for this)#Mary Magdalene. Virgin Mary and John's lives after the death of Jesus.#The women in ministry in the early church.#Cain and Abel's story from the point of view of the older sister and Cain's wife.#Deborah's story#Job's journey through so much more becuase I love this man he is so cool.#Paul's life story and his corresponding love with Jesus.#A divine comedy inspired story but with essence of all the abrahamic religions being combined witouth answering which one is actually real#(not just the three main ones but like also as many others as I can place of the abrahamic tree)#and ummmmmmmmmm..... wait theres too muvh ill run out of tag spaceeeee
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top secret writing tip: when you’ve finished your draft, and you think “well, i’ve included everything i want in this, but it feels too short. I don’t know what else to add.”
Simply.... don’t!! If you’ve got everything you want, throw out your arbitrary word count goal, and let your story be as long as you need it to be.
If you add things just for the sake of hitting some length, then you’re probably gonna end up with unneccessary fluff that you might as well just trim out again.
Only 5k words? That’s perfectly fine. 1k words? Fine too. 500 words? Perfect. 100 words? You know it.
Sometimes stories are short, and that’s alright!
#Feli speaks#writing this post in honor of me finishing a draft#it'll end up longer once i rewrite it to prose good but for now#it's done!! and i'm not adding more scenes to it because they're just gonna retread what another scene already does#perfecttly fine on it's own. i dont need to reiterate#short stories n fics are fun!! and sometimes them being short makes them all the more effective#i'm thinking of a joke fic of mine that's 500 words to an elaborate punch line#or 600 word things were i just want to prompt a thought and show off an idea#if i made it longer i'd just muddy up what i want to convey#not everything can be a big sprawling epic ok
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I just realised Julius is technically a former serial killer and I don’t know what to do with that description
#or spree killer. whatever the word is.#like YEAH every DODA agent is a murderer#but i mean the whole ‘murdering for fun’ thing#v#x2#its sort of a weird point in the scenario book that julius’ flagrant murder is seen as a bad thing#but then you destroy all the fds anyway#i wonder if yamamoto realised it was a shitty story choice#since all the short stories were published after the game#or if the ending got messed up because of a script rewrite#since the rest of the game is so patchwork#or maybe im snorting copium and giving the writers too much credit that they could have written something good if they had time#and not that these were the ideas they wanted to portray
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thinking about jemma, how she's very much not into the whole one night stand/hookup thing, very rarely ever does it, except in the ~year(-ish) after she first leaves shield. she's never been particularly great at dealing with things like emotions and trauma, so she looks for distraction, anything to keep her mind off of what she's seen, been through, what she's left, especially as it all comes crashing onto her after she left and she doesn't have all of shield to keep her busy.
so sometimes she goes to a bar, goes on dates that she doesn't plan on turning into anything serious, and will end up going to a hotel with some guy. sometimes it will turn into a recurring thing, but she only ever plans for it to purely be a distraction, something that will get her out of her own head for a little while.
she's entirely aware it's an unhealthy coping mechanism (especially given it isn't even something she particularly likes to do), but for a while it's the only thing that she can think to do that isn't even more self destructive. however, with the biggest things she's looking for in these interactions being the distraction that it provides, the way it can silence her brain for a while, and the validation it can bring, it can lead to less than healthy dynamics, since she's not great at looking for red flags in the first place, and even more so when she doesn't intend on it becoming anything being serious.
by the time she starts settling into a more permanent place, is no longer so transient (roughly around a year after she's left shield), she's largely left this behavior behind as she is actually attempting to more actively deal with everything.
#this is not at all where i planned on this going#this is kind of a mess and a wordvomit and i'll probably reread this later and hate it and delete it and rewrite it but#long story short jemma deals w shit bad and wants to turn off her brain#you were made of galaxies with nebulae coursing through your blood and meteors in your eyes – headcanon.#this ofc doesn't apply in verses where she's in a relationship w someone when she leaves#(or leaves shield w someone in general; not even necessarily a partner)#idk i've just been thinking abt this a lot lately#they also tend to not last very long bc uhh if it does she gets Attached#which is why she doesn't usually do this type of casual thing in the first place#so ig if anyone wanted to meet her that way and see her being a bit of a Disaster#who gets attached to people entirely too quickly and then becomes genuinely attracted to them#ngl tho i do kinda want smth like that#let her have sb she hooks up with several times and then ends up getting Attached
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All Too Well | c.s.c
Summary: You thought you met the man of your dreams. He was everything you ever wanted, but what happens when that dream falls apart and when that man is no longer the one you recognise? You want to love him against all odds because you believe things can be better.
☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works
Word Count: 21,190 words
Pairings: Professor! Seungcheol x Female Reader
Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Established Relationship, break up au! Slightly (quite) toxic relationship, HEAVY ANGST, fluff, smut.
Content Warnings: There is an age gap between the reader and Seungcheol, but it’s not massive. He’s 30, and she’s 25, but it’s enough to cause problems. Seungcheol is a condescending little shit in this. Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic couple behaviours, mentions of an injury. Hospitalisation it’s nothing serious—mentions of blood.
Smut Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving) shower sex, multiple orgasms, squirting and using sex as an apology.
Authors Note 1: This fic will hurt quite a bit, but I like pain and write many of my experiences with my ex. It’s a form of free therapy, and it feels cathartic. Also, this story is fiction. Cheol is a fucking dick in this. This is a story that is not reflective of him or my impression of him. It is pure fiction, nothing else.
Authors Note 2: Thank you so so much to my lovely @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading over this, my lovely @wooahaeproductions and @gyuwoncheol for beta'ing this fic for me 🩷
Authors Note 3: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old Joon fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe.
Taglist: @dkluvrsclub @wooahaeproductions @stayinhellevator @aaniag @seungkwansphd @tomodachiii @gyuminusone @bitchlessdino @zezedoesshit @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @noiceoofed @joonsytip @miniseokminnies @wonwoos-wineparty @persnyako @deobienthusiast @the-boy-meets-evil @gyuswhore @gyuwoncheol @shuadotcom @multi-kpop-fanfics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @thegirlwhoimagined @starlight-night0 @dreamsbloomout @aaasia111 @wongyuuu @ana-marais98 @gaslysainz @cherrylita @highvern
Part of the Broken Illusions Stories
© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved
“Mia, I’m not going to go on Tinder to end a dry spell, nor am I going to sleep with any of the men here. They are all old and most likely married. I’m not keen,” you groaned to your best friend.
Mia had dragged you out tonight because she said that you had a dry spell that needed to be broken, but you were not going to submit to your hormones, and you surely were not going to submit to some random guy on Tinder with the worst possible pick-up lines.
“Look, I can take care of myself. Men are useless and self-obsessed,” you claimed before sipping your martini.
“Surely not all men?” A voice spoke, making you choke on your drink.
You wiped your face wiped it of what? quickly and turned around in your seat to face the voice’s owner. Your eyes widened like saucers upon seeing the man standing before you. You were speechless, and as your eyes scanned, trailed from his deep-set eyes, his impeccable build, and his thighs, thighs that you wanted to straddle and ride until you screamed his name over and over.
“Nope, all men,” you quipped, making the handsome stranger smile at you, revealing his deep dimples.
“Y/N’s been burned by useless men, men who’ve claimed to be all that and then fell short, so she’s quite cynical about most men,” Mia chimed. “Ow!” Mia yelped when you kicked her shin for oversharing.
“Well, how about I get you another drink?” The man suggested, and Mia grinned before hopping off her barstool.
“Great, you do that! I have an early shift tomorrow. Stay safe, Y/N,” Mia said, winking as she headed out of the bar, and you glared at her, knowing that her ‘stay safe’ comment also meant to use a condom.
“I’m Seungcheol.” The stranger introduced himself, and you nodded, turning around to face the bar as he sat down next to you.
“Well, you already know my name. My best friend did kind of yell it,” you deadpanned. You didn’t care how ridiculously handsome Seungcheol was. He could just be another man who could talk a big game and be useless.
“What would you like to drink?” Seungcheol asked, and you shrugged. “Surprise me,” you said. You made a mental note that if he got you some fruity shit, you’d leave him the second the words left his mouth.
“How about a Yuzu fizz gin and tonic?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled at him, nodding.
“I can guess that if I ordered something you didn’t approve of, you would have left the bar by now?” Seungcheol joked.
“Well, now you’ll never know, will you?” You joked, making Seungcheol smile again.
“So why are you here? Trying to find Prince Charming?” Seungcheol asked with a chuckle.
“Oh, come on, be honest. I’m not one to judge,” Seungcheol encouraged, and a sly grin formed on your face.
“If you insist, then okay,” you started to say, inching closer to him, swallowing a gulp as you took in the scent of his cologne. It was musky, spicy, and woody all at once.
“I’ve been stuck in a painfully long dry spell, and my hand is exhausted. I just need to find someone to fuck me hard,” you answered nonchalantly, and you swore you saw Seungcheol gulp slightly.
“You’re telling me a woman as beautiful as you has not found a man?” Seungcheol asked as he moved away to hand you your drink. You took a sip out of the glass, smiling at the taste.
“Good?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded.
“Would you like to try?” You asked, and Seungcheol shook his head.
“Maybe later?” Seungcheol replied, and you nodded.
“But to answer your question, it’s not about looks. For instance, a guy might be doing well, then he’ll say something obnoxious, and I’ll no longer be interested,” you explained.
“Fair enough, I apologise on behalf of my species. We often get too excited when we see a beautiful woman and act up,” Seungcheol clarified, making you grin. Seungcheol was incredibly handsome and sweet, but you didn’t feel anything. Nothing clicked. There was no instant chemistry; suddenly, you felt tired and bored and just wanted to be wrapped up in your blanket.
“Well, this was nice. Thank you for the drink, but I think I will call it a night,” you said, and Seungcheol simply smiled at you. You were relieved at how he wasn’t pushy or objecting to the fact that you wanted to leave so early. Most of the men you had met would get defensive or be less than understanding if you wanted to go before they got to cop a feel.
“Wait, how are you getting home?” Seungcheol asked.
“Walking home, it’s a twenty-minute walk,” you replied.
“Y/N, you can punch me if I step out of line, but no, you’re not walking home alone.” You sighed, but you didn’t mind entirely, plus you could kick him in the crotch if he acted up. You were cognizant enough to do so.
“Well then, Seungcheol, since it’s a bit of a walk, shall we play a game?” You asked as you both stepped out of the bar and started to walk.
“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked, grinning.
“Humour me, Seungcheol .”
“Fine then.”
“Great, let’s play twenty questions,” and you proceeded to ask. “How old are you?”
“30,” he replied.
“If it’s not too rude to ask you, the same?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled before replying, “25.”
“I have another question if it’s not too crude?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded at him to ask it. “When you said you wanted to be fucked hard, how hard?” You gulped; you swore his voice had gotten deeper and huskier since he left the bar. You chalked up your reaction to the cold air, playing tricks on your mind.
“If let’s say, hypothetically, it was me, how hard would you want me to fuck you?” Seungcheol continued , making you stop and turn to face him. His eyes were piercing and burned through any façade you had on tonight.
“Hard enough to make me forget my name,” you whispered, earning a nod from Seungcheol.
The rest of the walk was filled with silence, aside from a few questions from Seungcheol, but you couldn’t get the vision of him standing over you and asking you how hard you’d like to be fucked out of your head.
“Well,” you breathed out when your eyes landed on your front door.
“This is me,” you said, standing with your back against your front door.
“Wait, I have one thing I want to try but don’t worry, you still have permission to knee me in the balls,” Seungcheol teased, making you chuckle, only for a second, before his soft lips landed on yours. The kiss was so light it almost felt like nothing happened, but you knew it did because you felt your heartbeat out of your chest the minute his lips grazed yours.
“I always wanted to know what the Yuzu gin and tonic tasted like,” Seungcheol said smugly before moving away from you.
“Well, it was lovely meeting you,” Seungcheol said, leaving you speechless and breathless as he turned around and walked away from your front door.
“Seungcheol! Wait!” He turned around, smiling at you.
“Would you like to come in for a nightcap? We still have several questions left,” you suggested, hoping he’d say yes. Seungcheol grinned as he nodded, following you into your apartment.
Fifteen questions in, Seungcheol and you were on your living room sofa. You were cuddling into his side, your legs on his lap. Around five questions ago, Seungcheol’s hand started trailing your exposed thighs , and you had let out a few soft moans at his touch.
“Question sixteen for you, Y/N,” Seungcheol said, and you laughed at him.
“You kept count?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded.
“I’m very detail-oriented,” Seungcheol replied, and you rolled your eyes.. Seungcheol’s hand stopped trailing your thighs; instead, he gently squeezed them.
“Tell me, how hard did you want to be fucked?” He asked again, and you quirked your brows at him.
“You already asked,” you replied breathlessly, and Seungcheol shrugged.
“Would it hurt to get details?” Seungcheol pressed staring right into your eyes. You would be lying if you said you didn’t start getting wet five questions ago, but now your core ached at his words.
“So hard that I can’t walk, so that I’m a mumbling and whimpering mess.” You said as you moved so that you were straddling Seungcheol. You gently moved your hips against his, and you felt his length hardening.
“Question seventeen for you. Why did you ask me for a drink tonight?” you asked as Seungcheol groaned and held your waist, stopping your movements.
“When I saw you in this dress, I couldn’t help but think about how I wanted to do nothing more than rip it off your body,” Seungcheol spoke, and you moaned at his words. His grip on your waist got tighter, and you were sure you would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t care.
“Question eighteen, Y/N, are you wet right now?” Seungcheol asked, and you smirked and proceeded to reply with another question.
“Question nineteen, Seungcheol, do you want to find out?” You asked, and Seungcheol’s eyes darkened with lust as he nodded,lifting the pushed-up hem of your dress so that it was at the waistband of your panties.
Seungcheol looked at you for consent, and you nodded, giving it to him. He pulled your panties to the side and brushed his fingers through your folds. Seungcheol moaned at your wetness, then moved his fingers to his mouth, and relished your taste.
“Final question, baby. What’s your safe word?” He asked.
“Peaches,” you replied.
“Peaches it is,” Seungcheol responded, content with your answer, he carried you to your bedroom to a night filled with absolute pleasure.
You woke up the following day to soft snores; you smiled softly at Seungcheol sleeping. Seungcheol looked incredibly handsome, even with his hair ruffled and mouth open as he snored lightly. You hated how you were romanticising this one moment, especially considering that it was the result of several drinks and very sexual questions that led him to your bedroom. Still, at this moment, you wished that this would be the view you could wake up to every day.
He was perfect. He was so sweet, loving, gentle, and kind all night long. You wouldn’t be opposed to having that type of care and affection regularly.
You decided to get out of bed and grab your oversized nightshirt as you headed to the kitchen, leaving your bedroom quietly not to wake him up andruin the little daydream you were happily living in.
You took a detour, making sure to head to the bathroom first, freshen up, and then head to the kitchen, where you made a cup of green tea for yourself and a cup of hot coffee for Seungcheol. In your hazy recollection of last night, you remembered Seungcheol ordering a couple of espresso martinis, so you assumed coffee would be a good idea.
You held the mugs in your hand as you headed back to your bedroom, smiling when you saw Seungcheol sitting up, stretching, and smiling sleepily at you when he turned his head to face you.
“Damn, and here I thought you left me,” Seungcheol joked. His deep morning voice made you feel warm, like the tea that warmed your throat with every sip.
“It’s my house,” you replied, smiling at him and handing him a mug of coffee.
“So, what do you do, Y/N?” Seungcheol asked. “Aside from rock my world,” he added, joking, making you roll your eyes at him.
“I’m a freelance web designer, but I just took a break to travel with my friends for a bit, and so I’m just getting back into it.I need to go out and hustle to get clients again,” you said, and you noticed an emotion you couldn’t decipher flash across Seungcheol’s features.
You assumed he was squinting at the morning sunlight streaming into your bedroom, but it was gloomy. Still, it was early, and maybe he was just tired.
“What do you do?” You asked, not wanting to dwell on your thoughts for too long.
“I’m an English Literature professor at Seoul National University,” Seungcheol said, and you couldn’t help but notice the hint of smugness that laced his tone. Still, then again, if you were a professor at the most prestigious universities in the country, maybe you, too, would behave that way.
“So, you’re like a nerd?” You joked and knew it fell flat, noticing how Seungcheol gave you no reaction.
“Is it still a thing to call people nerds? Youngsters these days,” Seungcheol mused, and you couldn’t help but again detect an undercurrent of an unpleasant tone that made you feel uncomfortable. You let it slide because you knew nothing about this man.
“I enjoyed last night,” you said softly, joining him on your bed, hoping to change the topic.
“I did, too. I didn’t think heading out for a drink after work would help me find you,” Seungcheol agreed.
“I, uh,” you fumbled. You wanted to ask if he would be willing to see you again, and Seungcheol got the hint.
“I want to see you again, and not just to repeat last night, but because I want to get to know you more,” Seungcheol said, and you beamed at him.
“Shit, I need to get home and shower and get to the university, but can I have your number? I’ll text you after my lecture today, and yes, I’ll text today itself because I don’t believe in the whole bullshit of waiting for a day after to tell someone you enjoyed their company. I guess that’s something I learned with age,” Seungcheol stated.
Then, you wondered if you felt Seungcheol’s age would be a motif you could never get rid of.
“Wait, so the buff hot guy, you ended up going home with him and fucking him?” Mia exclaimed obnoxiously loud in the supermarket, making you glare at her as you got a few disapproving stares from fellow shoppers.
“Oh, you need to work on your indoor voice. You will end up spilling my life story to the world,” you said, elbowing Mia, who shrugged.
“So well, was he the kind of dick you want inside you again, or what?” Mia asked as you grabbed some pasta and put it in your shopping cart.
“He asked me out,” you replied.“Well, sort of. He said he doesn’t believe in waiting a while to text, so he said he’d text me today because he enjoyed my company,” you clarified, and you saw Mia’s grin widen.
“What does he do?” Mia asked. “He’s a professor of literature and SNU,” you responded.
“Damn, I need your luck to get that kind of dick on a night out, a qualified dick, if you will,” Mia joked, making you laugh.
“I don’t know, he still hasn’t texted, and it’s nearly 7, and if he texts any later than that, it’ll just be for a hookup, and I don’t want to be a booty call,” you explained, and Mia nodded.
“Well, he’s a professor at one of the most prestigious universities. Maybe he got busy, and if he enjoyed your company, I’m sure he doesn’t only want sex,” Mia explained. You shrugged unsurely, and your phone buzzed in your pocket as if on cue.
Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Seungcheol. Sorry for not texting earlier like I said. Students had a lot of concerns, and it’s been a long day. I finally wrapped up, and if you haven’t made plans already, I’d like to take you out for a late-night dessert.
You smiled at your phone for what must have been too long, considering Mia decided to nudge you.
“Fucking reply, you dork, and have him for dessert because that man must be sweet,” Mia teased, wiggling her brows at you, making you roll your eyes at her as you typed a reply.
You: Hey Seungcheol, that’s okay. Dessert? Colour me intrigued, where should I meet you?
Not even a minute afteryou sent the message, you saw the words “Seungcheol is typing,” flash across your screen, making you smile and feel giddy like a teenager having a crush.
Seungcheol: Send me your location, and I’ll pick you up.
You: Sure!
You: Location sent
Seungcheol: Perfect, see you in a few!
You grinned at your phone as Mia headed towards the check-out aisle. “Wow, he’s offering to pick you up, too. He’s already a keeper,” Mia stated, and you shrugged.
“How?” You asked, curious to understand your best friend’s logic.
“He’s going out of his way to meet you and pick you up; he wants to spend more time with you before the date. He isn’t simply telling you to meet him at a place. He is making the time and effort to take you out on a date after a busy day. That’s a good sign,” Mia explained, making you smile.
You and Mia had paid for your groceries and now were waiting outside. You were conversing with Mia when a sleek black Mercedes caught your eye. It was a sexy car, and your eyes widened when Seungcheol stepped out of the car and smiled at you.
“Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you in the cold too long?” Seungcheol said, and you shook your head at him.
“Not at all,” you said shyly, earning a particularly hard nudge at your side from Mia, who noticed your shyness.
“I’m Mia, you must be Seungcheol,” she greeted, making Seungcheol laugh.
“I remember you, you’re trouble; you were the one who was kind enough to inundate me with Y/N’s sex life that night,” Seungcheol recalled, flustering Mia and you.
“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?” Mia countered, making Seungcheol smile, allowing his deep dimples to appear, making you smile too.
“Can’t deny that”, Seungcheol agreed, winking at you, making you smile even more, so much so that you thought your cheeks would break.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Mia said as she started to walk away.
“Wait, Mia, why don’t I drive you home before we both head out on our date? It’s cold and late,” Seungcheol offered, and for some reason, that stung. You don’t know why. She was your best friend; she’d never betray you, and Seungcheol, well, he was nothing to you right now.
Mia looked at you nervously, and you shrugged before nodding. “Yeah, come on, girl, it’s cold out. Besides, it’s not a long drive,” you rambled nervously, and Mia nodded as she approached the car.
Seungcheol was nothing but a gentleman, holding the door open for youfirst, letting you in the front seat next to him, and then moving to help Mia into the back seat, and you couldn’t help the ugly feeling of jealousy that stirred in the pit of your stomach.
Why would he help her after me? You thought and shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You needed to compose yourself before Seungcheol joined you in the driver’s seat.
“Alright, Mia, why don’t you tell me your address?” Seungcheol asked, flashing her a smile. You forced another smile at your best friend, annoyed at how your emotions clouded your ability to be rational, but Mia was right. Seungcheol was a catch, and you didn’t fancy losing him to your best friend.
The entire drive to Mia’s apartment was filled with awkward silence, aside from a couple of jokes from Seungcheol and a few nervous giggles from Mia. You kept your gaze on the road ahead, refusing to engage in the conversation. You hated how your insecurities got the better of you and ruined a good time.
“Thank you, Seungcheol,” Mia said softly, and for a second, you wanted to roll your eyes at her when you heard how sickly sweet her voice sounded, but then you realised that’s what she always sounded like and that your insecurity nearly caused you to ignore your best friend. You could tell Mia had noticed too as she too kept stealing worried glances at you.
“Hey, I’d never, and I’m sorry I imposed tonight,” Mia said as she exited the car and stood by your window. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and nodded.
“I know, I’m just sorry. I got insecure,” you admitted quietly, and Mia nodded before hugging you awkwardly.
“Have fun tonight. Remember, he wants to spend time with you. You’re not a second option,” Mia reassured, and you smiled at her, mentally noting to send her a long and apologetic text after tonight.
Seungcheol, ever the gentleman, walked Mia to her door and waited for her to go inside before hereturned to the car, sat in the driver’s seat, and smiled at you, which you half-heartedly returned.
“Okay, did you and Mia argue before I showed up?” Seungcheol asked, and you shook your head. “Then why did you act as if I overstepped by dropping her home?” Seungcheol questioned, and you sighed.
“Can I blame it on insecurities, and you can drop this?” You asked, and Seungcheol’s face softened.
“I want to spend my night with you, not her. How about I make it up to you over the best cake ever?” Seungcheol suggested, and you nodded, smiling at him.
The drive was filled with the music in Seungcheol’s car and lo-fi remixes, and halfway along the drive, Seungcheol broke the silence.
“So, this place is far, but I promise you it’s the best dessert place in the world. I know the owners, and I’ve known them since I was a kid, so they’re like family, so the food is legit,” Seungcheol rambled, making you smile.
“So busy day, huh?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded as he moved one hand off the steering wheel to lace it with yours.
“Yeah, but seeing you made it all better,” Seungcheol replied, making you smile at him.
“Cute,” you replied, making him grin as he drove.
“What about you? How was your day?” Seungcheol asked, now properly holding your hand as he kept his free hand on the steering wheel and continued to drive.
“Well, I mean, it wasn’t particularly productive. I asked a few clients if they had any upcoming projects I could assist with,” you explained
“Well, you can’t be passive about it. If you want something, you need to chase after it,” Seungcheol explained and then winced slightly. “Fuck sorry, I’ve been with students all day, repeating this shit to them, and I automatically clicked into professor mode; sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, reaching gently to take your hand and bring it to his lips.
“You’re not exactly wrong, but maybe just keep the life coach’s advice for the kids?” You joked, and Seungcheol’s eyes lit up as he pulled into the familiar driveway of the bakery.
“We’re here!” Seungcheol exclaimed excitedly as he parked the car, getting out first and heading to help you.
“Oh,” you said, pointing to your grocery bag.
“Leave it here; it’s cool,” Seungcheol replied.
“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked as he closed the car door behind you and held out his hand for you; you took it, smiling as his large hand engulfed yours, making you feel safe.
“Is that who I think it is?” A voice called out from the bakery’s back, and Seungcheol grinned, hearing the voice as he replied.
“Halmeoni, it is. Cheol is hungry,” Seungcheol said playfully as he guided you into the bakery and a more petite older woman approached Seungcheol.
“Oh, you are getting buffer by the day, and I see it’s paying off. Who is this beautiful woman?” The lady asked, making you smile shyly.
“Y/N, she and I are here on a date, halmeoni,” Seungcheol explained, making you grin even more.
“Well, I’m glad to see you are dating again. After Yoona, I thought I lost you for good,” the lady added, and you felt Seungcheol’s grip on your hand tighten at the mention of Yoona. Lost him how?
“Halmeoni, not now, please,” Seungcheol warned.
“My dear, Y/N, how rude of me. I’m Minji Kim, but you can address me as Halmeoni. Why don’t you two sit? I’ll get you the specials?” Ms. Kim offered.Seungcheol nodded as he guided you inside to find a more secluded booth to sit in.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seungcheol said softly as you sat down. You were about to counter, saying you weren’t planning to ask him, but you decided against it. It wasn’t your place. Not tonight, at least, not on a first date.
“This is our best-selling product and Cheol’s favourite,” Ms. Kim interrupted a couple of minutes later, as she placed a molten cake on the middle of the table and placed down two forks as well.
“Enjoy, kids,” Ms. Kim said before she disappeared.
“I know it looks simple,” Seungcheol started to say, “But this is the best thing ever. Open,” Seungcheol said as he picked up a forkful of the molten cake and moved the fork to your lips. You accepted the cake, letting out a hum of approval as the chocolatey taste filled your mouth.
“Fuck, that’s amazing,” you praised, and Seungcheol smirked as he took a bite for himself.
“Halmeoni says the love she pours into the cake makes it so delicious. She’ll never tell me her recipe, even if I beg,” Seungcheol complained, and you laughed at him.
“Isn’t that better? Some things are better left unsaid. It might ruin the magic,” you said, and Seungcheol smiled slightly.
“Ah, the childlike wonder, cute,” Seungcheol said, earning a funny look from you.
“Is that a problem?” You asked, moving your hand away from him. Seungcheol shook his head.
“No, I guess I have a very black-and-white view of the world, and sometimes I fail to account that other people don’t. I like that you see the world with all its beauty and colours,” Seungcheol explained.
“Well, stick around me long enough, and maybe you’ll see the world with a bit more colour?” you suggested, and Seungcheol shrugged.
“We’ll see,” Seungcheol said, and you gathered from his tone that he didn’t fancy discussing this issue further.
“Hey, you’ve got cake on your face,” Seungcheol said, leaning forward, and you assumed he’d wipe the cake off your lips. Instead, you were met with his soft lips. You melted against his lips as they moved against yours, only for him to pull away for a second and then find your lips again. You pulled away this time with a light smile.
“Halmeoni will have the worst impression of me if all I do is make out with you here,” you joked, and Seungcheol smirked.
“I agree. How about we finish this cake, and maybe I can show you how much I wanted to spend my day with you instead of lecturing my students?” Seungcheol suggested, and you couldn’t help how your expression changed.Seungcheol caught onto it as well.
“I didn’t ask you out only to have sex with you, I promise. I want your company, but I also want to be able to hold your hand and maybe steal a few kisses here and there. I’d rather do that in a comfortable setting and not traumatise poor halmeoni,” Seungcheol clarified as he placed another kiss on your lips, and you hummed into the kiss.
“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded.You stood up with him, placing your hand in his, and following him to the counter as he paid for the cake, much to your and halemoni’s protests. Seungcheol smiled as he walked out the bakery door, ensuring to wave to Ms. Kim. You felt yourself becoming more enamoured by his actions.
You concluded that Seungcheol could have a hard exterior, but soft inside, much like the lava cake. He could seem slightly unapproachable with his curt and short replies, but if you dug deep enough, you knew he was filled with nothing but love and warmth, and you were determined to get to know that Seungcheol.
You were determined that you could be that one for him, the one he’d let in.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Seungcheol asked as his voice took you out of your daydream of becoming the future Mrs Choi.
“I enjoyed tonight; well, everything tonight has been so incredible,” you admitted, and Seungcheol turned to smile at you, nearly running through the red light, making you laugh and gasp.
“Fuck, do you think being distracted by you is a valid reason for running a red light?” Seungcheol joked, and you shook your head at him.
“Nope, but I think it’s cute,” you said as you placed your hand on his knee.
“That impatient? We’re almost back at mine,” Seungcheol teased, and you rolled your eyes at him,pinching his knee a bit which made him laugh.
The drive back to Seungcheol’s place was filled with jokes and flirty remarks.Once Seungcheol reached his apartment, he couldn’t park the car soon enough and hurriedly helped you out,practically running to his apartment with your hand in his.
The minute you were inside his apartment, you took a second to take off your red scarf. You placed it on the coat hanger by the door and squealed in surprise when Seungcheol turned you around in his embrace, bending down to lift you into his arms and carry you over to his sofa.
You stared at him, confused. What did he want? Was it just sex? You wondered, and Seungcheol spoke, ending your worries within seconds.
“I just want to hold you like this, in my arms, look,” Seungcheol started to say as he adjusted his position so that you were lying between his body, your chin on his toned chest. “Maybe I’m moving too quickly, but I told you I don’t believe in all that bull shit of following rules. You’re the first person I’ve felt this comfortable with for so long, so forgive me if all this is too much because I can reign it in,” Seungcheol admitted as he stroked your cheek, making you smile.
You sat up for a second tokick off your boots, taking your position back, and laying on his chest. “I don’t need you to reign any of this in,” you reassured. Seungcheol was special; he was older, wiser, and something you had never had. You weren’t about to lose him for the sake of some social constructs relating to dating.
You always felt like people made up or exaggerated when it came to how love made them feel. You had friends, like Mia, who would act like they were on cloud nine or something when they were in love, and you never understood it. It wasn’t because you were traumatised as a child or anything, far from it.
You were a happy kid, but your parents weren’t in love. You knew that your parents stayed married for your sake, and while you would always commend them for that because you knew you could never do that, you never understood the point of pretending. All that to say, you never grew up with a perfect example of what love looked like, and after shitty hookups and your fair share of fuck boys and heartbreak, you gave up on the concept.
You didn’t hate love; you just assumed it was something inconceivable that others got, the lucky ones, and you, you didn’t think you’d ever get it. You had convinced yourself that for so long, until you met Seungcheol, until that first kiss with him.
Now, four months later, you watched your boyfriend working.
That was your man, your safe space, your home. Even though there were petty fights and arguments, you two would make it work because that’s what people do when they’re in love.
They fight for each other.
“Okay, I guess I’m decent-looking enough, but you’ve been staring at my face for the past ten minutes, with a smile on yours,” Seungcheol chuckled as he looked at you.
“Wait, I’ve been staring for that long?” You asked, feeling slightly flustered. Seungcheol nodded as he pulled you closer into his chest.
“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asked as his hand traced patterns lazily on your lower back.
“I just-,” you started to say.“Are you real?” You asked Seungcheol, who furrowed his brows at you.
“What?” Seungcheol asked
“I don’t know, I fuck. I never believed that I could have something like this,” you said shyly, and Seungcheol smiled fondly at you.
“Like what?” Seungcheol encouraged, and you took a deep breath to sit up and adjusted until you sat crossed-legged next to Seungcheol on the bed. He soon followed, sitting up, and leaning against his headboard.
“Like, I always thought love was a beautiful concept, but it was a concept that others would get, not me. I never thought I would find someone who would love me, how you do, how you make me feel when you kiss me, and how I feel when I hold your hand. Seungcheol, I feel safe with you, and that’s something I never associated with love. Love was always so unrealistic to me,” you rambled and paused to look at Seungcheol, who smiled fondly at you.
“That’s why I asked if you were real, or something I made up because I was so desperate to feel loved and to be loved,” you admitted.
Seungcheol placed his hand over yours. “You feel safe with me?” He asked.
“The safest. I feel like I’m floating. When I’m with you, I feel like you’ve taken me to a place so high, where there is nothing but love and safety,” you babbled, letting your feelings pour out and making Seungcheol smile widely at you.
“Fuck, then, this is not a good time to say this is it?” Seungcheol said, and for a second, you felt like you had come down from the proverbial cloud you were floating on.
“Uh, say, what?” You fumbled, and Seungcheol grinned at you before leaning over to kiss your lips softly.
“To say that I love you,” Seungcheol admitted, making your eyes widen.
“To be honest, I’ve been meaning to say it for a while now.I just didn’t know if it was the right time or too soon, and I didn’t want to scare you off or anything, but hearing what you said made me realise that I too have nothing to fear when I’m with you,” Seungcheol confessed, making you? at his words as you moved to crawl into his lap.
“You love me?” You asked.
“I love you,” Seungcheol repeated, and you beamed at him.
“I love you more.”
Four Months Later: The First Crack in the Glass
“How was work?” You asked Seungcheol one evening, and he groaned as he flopped into your bed, wrapped his arms around your waist, and cuddled you, making you smile. Your boyfriend might have been a big shot and a fancy literature professor, but he was a giant teddy bear behind closed doors, and in moments like this, you were reminded of it.
“You want to know?” Seungcheol asked as he sat up and stood up to take off his shirt and pull off his work clothes to change into a more comfortable pair of sweats.
“I was teaching the kids about Sylvia Plath,” Seungcheol said slowly.
“Oh, shit, I’ve heard of her,” you said absentmindedly, and Seungcheol let out a soft hum.
“She’s one of the greatest writers, and you’ve only heard of her?” Seungcheol asked. There was a hint of condescension in his voice, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was a hint of judgment from him.
“Cheol, tell me about her work,” you said, trying to push down the funny feeling his words left you with.
“I mean, what can I say? You smiled, watching him, listening intently as he fell into a soliloquy about Sylvia Plath’s writing. “The woman was troubled. Like any great artist, she used her pain to create beauty. She turned her darkest thoughts into the most beautiful words,” Seungcheol explains.
“Who’s your favourite poet?” Seungcheol asked suddenly, and you shrugged.
“I don’t know if I have one. Literature was something I liked, and I enjoyed everything I read. I don’t think I cared enough to love one author exclusively,” you replied, earning a grunt from Seungcheol.
“You couldn’t have liked it enough if you can’t even tell me a favourite author. What about a poem or novel?” Seungcheol pressed, and you glared at him.
“You sound like an arrogant prick,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed and held up his hands in defeat.
“Okay, I apologise,” Seungcheol said, but the smile on his face made you realise that he didn’t mean it.
“I loved the play A Doll’s House,” you said, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened.
“You’re familiar with Ibsen?” He asked, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.
“Just because I’m not some fancy fucking professor doesn’t make me stupid,” you said, inching away from him, and Seungcheol let out a soft sigh.
“What did you love the most about the play?” Seungcheol asked.
“I guess, like Nora, I too feel like I always need to be a certain way and that people have an expectation of what and how I should be,” you admitted, looking down at your blanket, and you felt Seungcheol pull you into his arms.
“I hope that’s not because of my thoughtless remarks?” Seungcheol asked, cupping your face with his large hands, and you shook your head.
“No, but I guess just life. I just see so many people my age settling down, with a family and kids, and everything, and they have a steady job, and just everything,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“So? That’s their journey, not yours, my love. You will have all those things when it’s right. You don’t need to rush it,” Seungcheol said, and you smiled at him.
“That’s one of my biggest insecurities, and I don’t think I’ve ever voiced it, not even to Mia,” you confessed.
“I appreciate that you trust me with it and know that it’s a feeling that I’ll keep safe with me,” Seungcheol promised his words making you melt.
“You’re my safety net?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded.
“Yep,” Seungcheol responded.
“Oh, babe, my friends wanted to meet you, so I asked them over to dinner at mine, join me? I want to introduce them to the woman, who, I quote, ‘makes me less of a miserable bastard’,” Seungcheol explained.
“I’d love to,” you replied.“Wait, miserable bastard?” You asked, unable to fight the slight grin on your face.
“When Yoona and I ended things, I was a miserable bastard,” Seungcheol explained.
“Um, not to rehash shitty memories…” you started to say, and Seungcheol’s soft smile turned into a harsh glare as he spoke.
“Then don’t. I’m not interested in talking about her, and it’s none of your business,” Seungcheol snapped, and you nodded, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up or attempting to.
“There are some things in life we keep to ourselves, right? For all our lives, a secret we take to our grave, Yoona, is that for me,” Seungcheol explained, and you sighed in acceptance, wondering how awful that relationship could have been for him to be still so resentful.
“I get it. You’ll never hear her name from me again,” you vowed.
“Thank you,” Seungcheol breathed out.
“Fuck, does this dress look okay?” You asked, waltzing out of Seungcheol’s bathroom in a black cocktail dress. Seungcheol barely looked up as he placed the wine glasses on the dinner table.
“Cheol,” you huffed, and he looked up at you.
“My friends will like you; they don’t care about what you wear,” Seungcheol said, and you walked over to the dining table with a sigh
“I get that, but still,” you trailed off, and Seungcheol shrugged.
You were about to respond when the doorbell rang. “Cool, they’re here. Just be yourself. They’ll like you,” Seungcheol affirmed, and you sighed, nodding, as you watched him open the door for his guests.
“Jeonghan, Chan, Mingyu, and Joshua, this my love, Y/N,” Seungcheol introduced you proudly, waving towards you as the four men walked into the house.You smiled and waved at them awkwardly.
“Why don’t we get a few drinks, and then we can all get acquainted?” Seungcheol offered, and the rest agreed with nods and hums.
“So, what do you do?” Jeonghan asked.
“Well, I’m a web designer, so I do a lot of freelance work,” you explained, and Jeonghan nodded, smiling.
“That’s incredibly impressive,” Jeonghan complimented.
“What do you do?” You asked, and Jeonghan took a sip of his wine before answering.
“I also work with your boyfriend, except I teach law,” Jeonghan replied, and you nodded.
You were about to reply when you were suddenly interrupted by Seungcheol. “Oh, Jeonghan, don’t bore her; she’s not into the academia,” Seungcheol said. You knew he meant no harm by it, but it made you feel like an idiot.
Did your boyfriend think you weren’t smart enough to converse with someone other than him?
“Well, everyone likes criminal law, murders, and stuff,” Jeonghan joked, attempting to ease the tension, as he noticed how your face fell with Seungcheol’s comment.
“I know, I love watching crime documentaries,” you added.
“Same. What would you say are your favourites? Forensic files?” Jeonghan asked.
“Y/N, you know that watching a documentary on crime, especially an extremely overproduced TV show, does not mean you understand the details of the law. You watch crime shows because you find it cool, but Jeonghan teaches the law. He respects and appreciates it immensely,” Seungcheol added, and you baulked at his words.
“Ignore him, Y/N, this pompous literature professor thinks that if you don’t like Sylvia Plath, you’re a disgrace as a reader. Seungcheol can’t understand that while her work is untouchable, it’s too much, and that’s not a mark of one’s intelligence. Rather what they like,” Jeonghan said. His last words were directed to Seungcheol and were emphasised with a particularly intense glare at him.
“Cheol, why don’t you look after the kids? Yeah, I think Joshua said something about replacing all your vintage books with decoys,” Jeonghan offered, and you were thankful for his comment as Seungcheol stalked off to the kitchen.
Jeonghan looked at you sympathetically before motioning for another man to join you in the conversation. He looked younger, and he had a bright smile.
“This is Chan. He’s the baby of the group,” Jeonghan said, and you couldn’t help but think that his words were a dig at you, but you saw no malice in his voice. He just wanted you to meet another face.
You started a conversation with Jeonghan and Chan; this time, it was just about lighthearted topics. Thankfully, Seungcheol didn’t interrupt with a patronising comment.
“Dinner’s set!” Seungcheol announced, and you sighed. You finally felt better about what happened between you two earlier, but you decided to swallow your pride and join him at the dining table.
“No way you did all this, Cheol,” A man you vaguely remember called Mingyu mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed.
“True, my love here..” Seungcheol said as he moved closer to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in to kiss your cheek softly.
“She helped. I would have burnt the bloody house down,” Seungcheol said.You took a deep breath before nodding in agreement.
You decided you’d chalk up Seungcheol’s initial crappy behaviour to him just being nervous, and maybe he just wanted to save you from a boring conversation but just had a terrible way of executing his plan.
You’d let it go and try to enjoy the rest of the night.
Except, that didn’t go to plan. Several minutes into the conversation, Seungcheol’s grip on your hand loosened, and by the time dessert was placed, Seungcheol had his chair tilted so that his back was facing you and no longer looking at you or engaging you in the conversation.
You felt awkward. Everyone in the room knew each other except you. You were the odd one out, and your boyfriend seemed completely fine ignoring you, too. You didn’t want him to coddle you, but you didn’t expect him to turn his back on you.
You placed your hand on Seungcheol’s back once to get his attention, but he merely shrugged it off, and you felt tears threatening to spill, so you politely and wordlessly excused yourself, not that anyone noticed.
You excused yourself to Seungcheol’s study, where you found yourself a bottle of wine, and decided to sip that and stayed all night and didn’t emerge until after dinner and his friends left.
“Hey, I thought I’d find you here. Why didn’t you join us for dinner? I told them you came down with a headache, but I got to say you didn’t make me look good, doing that,” Seungcheol explained as he walked into his study, and you rolled your eyes at him as you took another sip of your wine.
“I just wanted to introduce you to my friends, and you just decided you couldn’t be bothered?” Seungcheol scolds, and you scoff.
“Why are you so pissed off?” Seungcheol asked as he sat across you, and you stood up and walked over to the window.
“I’m not pissed off. Who said I was pissed off?” You said sarcastically, and Seungcheol sighed.
“You’re acting pissed off,” Seungcheol added. You sighed before speaking.
“You acted like I was a fucking dumbass; what the hell was the comment you gave to Jeonghan? That I’m not into academia, or that I can't understand the law because I watch a Netflix show about crime? You made me look like a fucking moron,” you spat.
“Look, whenever I try to show you anything about my work, you get bored, and you either fall asleep or can’t keep up. I was trying to save you that with Jeonghan,” Seungcheol replied, and you stared at him in shock.
“I don’t fall asleep because I’m not interested. I fall asleep because you talk to me like a student. You lecture me; if you spoke to me about your work the way you do with your friends, with that same enthusiasm, then maybe I’d pay more attention, but you fucking don’t!” You shot back, making Seungcheol sigh.
“So, what was I meant to do? Let you try and have a conversation with Jeonghan about the law, something you know nothing about?” Seungcheol asked, and you nearly slapped the smug look off his face.
“Fuck you. You don’t need to have a master’s degree or prior knowledge about a subject to be interested in it and for fucks sake. I just wanted to get to know your friends, but whenever I tried, you intercepted the conversation with a comment that just made me sound like a fucking child,” you yelled at him, and Seungcheol groaned.
“This was meant to be a good night, and you’re making it all about you,” Seungcheol mumbled.
“Me? How? You barely acknowledged me, you turned your fucking chair around and didn’t look at me during dinner. You barely tried to include me. Your friends, they’re all older than me, and you made no fucking effort to include me,” you yelled at Seungcheol.
“You have a mouth. You could speak up. No one would stop you,” Seungcheol offered, earning a glare from you.
“Why would I fucking do that? Whenever I contribute anything, you show up to either call me an idiot, or when I do try to get your attention actively, you fucking shrug me off. Do you know how that feels?” You asked, your voice trembling.
“Fuck don’t cry. That’s not fucking fair. I don’t even remember the fact I shrugged you off. You can’t attack me for something I don’t even know about,” Seungcheol retaliated.
“Fuck can you just acknowledge that you fucked up a little bit? You’re making me feel so fucking stupid,” you choked out, and Seungcheol shrugged.
“I don’t think I’m making you feel that way. I think you’re making yourself feel that way,” Seungcheol offered, and you glared at him.
“Fine, then, if I’m so fucking stupid. Then, I should just let you be. I’m going home. I don’t want you to feel even more stupid with me around,” you snarled, slamming your wine glass down hard enough to startle Seungcheol but not hard enough to break the glass.
You stormed out of the room as Seungcheol helplessly followed after you. “Wait, Y/N, fucking wait. It’s late, please just stay until the morning, and I’ll drop you off; I can’t drive you home yet, I’ve had too much to drink for it to be safe,” Seungcheol argued, and you scowled at him.
“I don’t fucking need this. I can take a cab,” you said, grabbing your phone, and Seungcheol shook his head at you.
“Not a fucking chance, not so late, please; just let me sober up, and I’ll drive you back?” Seungcheol pleaded, and you gave in.
“I’m going to clean up,” you said, shoving past him and heading into the kitchen as you started to clean up the mess.
“Let me help,” Seungcheol offered, and you ignored him. “Babe, please, I’m fucking sorry, just let me help you?” Seungcheol asked again, and you failed to notice how close he was standing next to you. You bumped into him, managing to drench yourself in red wine.
“Fuck,” you hissed out as the tears threatened to spill over.
“Go, take a shower, I’ll clean up,” Seungcheol said, taking the glasses out of your hands, and you nodded as you silently walked back to the bedroom and stripped, putting your black dress in the laundry hamper and stepping into the shower.
You felt the tears stream down your face. As you washed up, you started to rationalise the fight in your mind. Maybe you had overreacted, or maybe Seungcheol just got caught up in the moment, hell you’ve been guilty of that yourself when you meet your friends, so why should you hold him to a different standard?
You stepped out of the shower, wrapped yourself in one of Seungcheol’s fluffy white towels, and headed out of the bathroom to find Seungcheol sitting looking forlorn on the edge of the bed.
“I’m fucking sorry,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you sighed as you leant against the wall.
“I may have overreacted a bit. I just wanted to feel loved, but I get it, time and place,” you said.
“I do love you, and tonight I acted like a fucking ass. I just wanted to impress my friends, and I did it at your expense. Can you forgive me?” Seungcheol asked.
“I can,” you said, holding out your hand to him, which he took and walked over until he was towering over you.
“How can I make it up to you?” Seungcheol asked as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, which you gladly reciprocated.
“Well,” you started to say as you undid the towel, letting it drop to the floor, and Seungcheol smiled at you.
“You want to make it up to me, Cheol?” Seungcheol nodded furiously. You reached down and placed your hand gently on the top of his head and moved his head so his face was at your cunt.
“Show me how sorry you are,” you said, guiding his head into your pussy. Seungcheol gently pushed your back into the wall. He lifted your leg and wrapped it around his shoulder. He started by placing soft kisses, gently kissing your cunt. He ran his tongue over your folds, moaning as he tasted your arousal.
“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised and dove back in with more desperation. He moved his tongue to your clit, and flicked his tongue against it. You moaned in approval, and he continued his movements.
He suddenly pulled his mouth away from your core, lifted you, and walked over to your bed. He laid you down gently, and his mouth found your cunt again. Seungcheol positioned himself on his knees at the edge of the bed, his tongue now reaching your entrance. He pushed his tongue inside you, and you mewled at the feeling. He shoved his tongue further into your cunt, and his hand reached your clit.
He rubbed at the swollen nub, and you soon found yourself cumming on his tongue. Your hips bucked against his face as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you got down from your high, Seungcheol shoved two fingers into your pussy making you squeal at the oversensitivity.
He pushed his fingers deep inside of you until he reached a rough patch of skin, and you squealed. He smirked, and he started moving his wrist up and down, making his fingers repeatedly hit the spot inside you. It had you seeing stars.
Your second orgasm hit you harder as you felt yourself squirt for him. You were clawing at the bedsheet for support; the way he made your body feel was incredible. He latched his full lips around your swollen clit as he furiously pumped his fingers inside you, and a few short licks and you fell apart again.
You whimpered into the bedsheet, which was now soaking wet, and you reached your hands out for him. He smirked, and he pushed you back further onto the bed as he stripped himself. Seungcheol then climbed over and on top of you. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. His hard cock was resting against your aching cunt. Just seeing his length made you delirious.
He was so thick the first time you had sex with him, you couldn’t even comprehend his thickness. He made you feel so full and had indeed ruined you for other men. His length was perfect, it was able to go deep inside you, and the thickness another word allowed you to feel so good. He filled you up. You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. He pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch.
His hands moved to unwrap your legs and positioned them around his neck. The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt. His thrusts were paced perfectly. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan.
“Harder, Cheol,” you whimpered, and Seungcheol smirked. He pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. He realigned himself and pushed into you.
You and Seungcheol always played rough and pushed each other beyond your limits. Your pussy was making obscene noises as you had cummed so hard. He picked up his pace, knowing he would not last much longer, and his grip went to your throat. You somehow found the ability to tap his hand, letting him know to choke you harder. You liked it, and so did he.
His grip around you tightened. He pushed into you, and you fell apart again. This time, you screamed into the pillow, and Seungcheol released not too long after you. He flipped you back over, laying you down on your back. He moved down again to your pussy, and licked and sucked. He moaned, tasting your release and his.
He always did this; he wanted to lick your pussy after cumming inside you. You didn’t complain. A few more licks and one final suck to your entrance, and you came once again. He placed the last kiss on your cunt and pulled you into his arms.
“I’m still so fucking sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, and you rolled over to place your head on his chest.
“It’s okay, just don’t do it again?” You said, and Seungcheol nodded, pulling you into a soft kiss as he held you until you fell asleep in his arms. The feeling of safety was still there, but why did it feel like there was a slight tear in the safety net that was your love?
You shook it off, thinking it was expected. Couples fought.
You two would be fine.
“Morning gorgeous,” Seungcheol mumbled the following day as he wrapped his arms around your waist while you made tea.
“Hi,” you replied, turning around to face him as he pulled you into a soft kiss.
“I want to talk to you about something,” Seungcheol said, and you looked at him nervously.
“Chill, it’s not a bad thing. Well it is, but it doesn’t affect us,” Seungcheol explained as he guided you into the living room and onto the sofa.
“Yoona, she was my first love, my first everything. Well, not everything, but she sure felt like it. I thought she and I would be together for the rest of our lives. I proposed, and she said yes, and somewhere along the road, everything went wrong. I found out she cheated several times while we were engaged,” Seungcheol explained as you held your breath.
“So, whenever she is mentioned, I get agitated because she ruined me and made me cynical until I met you. You make me happy, happier than I’ve been in a very long time,” Seungcheol explained, and you sighed, feeling terrible for him.
“I want to continue making you happy for a long time, Seungcheol. I won’t ever hurt you like her,” you promised, making him smile at you.
“I love you, and I’m sorry for last night. Look, there’s a cocktail party at the university next Friday evening. I’d like you there and want to show you off to everyone. I want to show off my girl,” Seungcheol said proudly.
“I’d like that,” you said, placing your lips on his plush ones.
You, too, would be fine. It was a slip-up, not a crack in the safety net—just a slip.
“Good god, I was starting to think that Seungcheol had kidnapped you or something,” Mia joked, making you laugh nervously as she entered your apartment and hugged you tightly.
“Why would you think that?” You asked, genuinely concerned about why your best friend had such a vivid imagination.
“Well, you’ve only spoken to me a few times within the four months that you and Seungcheol have been dating, and I say this with as much honesty as I can. Don’t become one of those girls that ditches all her friends once she finds a guy,” Mia joked, but you knew there was some weight to her words.
“Mia, that was in university, and it happened once. I’m not the same person anymore,” you defended, and Mia nodded.
“So why did you want me to come over, girls’ night, or trouble in paradise?” Mia asked, and how you chewed your bottom lip nervously was enough of a tell for Mia to sigh and understand.
“Why don’t you sit? I’ll grab the wine, and I’ll explain everything,” you explained another word, and Mia nodded as she kicked off her shoes and got comfortable on your couch.
You handed her a glass of cabernet and held another glass for yourself as you sat down on the sofa and started telling her about every detail for the last four months. It was going well until you finished recalling the details of last night’s fight.
“Wait, he did fucking what, and you fucking forgave him? Why because he made you cum?” Mia accused, and you cringed. You had just finished recounting the entire story of the dinner with Seungcheol.
“He made a mistake,” you mumbled, and Mia scoffed.
“A mistake is forgetting to order dessert, not ignoring your girlfriend, or treating her like she’s a bumbling idiot!” Mia fired back, making you sink into your seat.
“Sorry, you need to talk to him about this. Sex is not an apology, and why did you forgive him? Did he just gaslight you into forgiving him? Is that what happened? Did he say that you’re being crazy or shit like that?” Mia interrogated, and you kept shrinking in your seat.
“Mia, shut up. Stop using such extreme words for him,” you whimpered. You didn’t like how loud her voice had gotten, and she sighed.
“He used sex as an apology. Y/N, do you not know how big of a red flag that is? And the fact that you gave in makes it even worse because you’ve now set the precedent that he can pull this sort of shit with you, and you’ll forgive him if he makes you cum hard enough!” Mia rattled off, and you wanted to smack her if it meant shutting her up. Instead of being rational, you decided to defend your boyfriend, even if it meant doing it at the expense of hurting your best friend.
“Mia fuck you. You were in a relationship with, what was that guy’s name, you remember, the one who cheated on you for four months straight, and you kept taking him back. You’re going to lecture me about being spineless in my relationship when you let a guy walk all over you for four months straight because you were so fucking desperate!” You snarled and regretted the minute the words left your lips because you saw how hurt overtook Mia’s face and how her lower lips trembled.
“I haven’t seen this side of you in a while. You were like this in university, where once you fell for a guy, you became blind to his every flaw and then lashed out at anyone who tried to tell you otherwise. You know what, Y/N, you know where I live. Find me when you decide to take off your rose-coloured glasses. I can’t bear the sight of you right now,” Mia said, placing the wine glass down on your coffee table and storming out of your house.
You felt awful, but Mia was wrong to assume that Seungcheol would use sex as an apology instead of actually apologising instead. You shook your head and sighed, finishing your glass of wine. You would reach out to Mia eventually.
“Fucking hell, you look beautiful, my love. I might just be the luckiest man alive,” Seungcheol praised as you stepped out of your bedroom.
You wore a red evening gown that exposed enough of your chest to be enticing but also respectable for a formal event at a university. You topped off your look with makeup that brought out your best features and slipped on red strappy heels.
“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked.You looked up at him. He was wearing a black suit, and you honestly wanted to skip the university party and have him take you right here. Now, as if he could read your thoughts, Seungcheol laughed.
“Don’t worry, you can rip this suit off me after tonight,” Seungcheol said, making you laugh too as you took his hand and headed to the party.
“Y/N! So lovely to see you again,” Jeonghan greeted when you and Seungcheol entered the venue.
“What about me?” Seungcheol joked childishly, making Jeonghan roll his eyes.
“Needy, isn’t he?” Jeonghan teased, and you laughed.
“But you love me,” Seungcheol said, and you smiled
“I do,” you said, making him smile backbefore he looked up, and he suddenly froze as his eyes fixated on a figure across the room.
“Cheol?” You asked, noticing how Jeonghan also looked tense as both men intently stared at the figure, now making her way across the room to greet them.
“Jeonghan, my favourite law professor, you know my students miss you dearly!” The lady joked.
“Yoona,” Jeonghan acknowledged, and you, like Seungcheol, felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.
This was Yoona?
This was the woman that broke Seungcheol’s heart? This woman, who Seungcheol failed to explain, worked alongside him. She was a colleague of his. He saw her every day at work, and nowhere during the four months did he think to mention that he still worked alongside his ex-fiancé.
You also felt Seungcheol let go of your hand, and you could have sworn he inched away from you.
“Seungcheol, it’s so lovely to see you, and who might this be?” Yoona asked as her gaze turned to you, making you gulp and then pale in horror as Seungcheol could not answer for a second.
“She’s a friend,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you saw Jeonghan shake his head slightly, and you sighed at him, holding your hand to out to Yoona
“Pleasure to meet you. How do you know Seungcheol?” You asked, feigning innocence, and you heard Seungcheol fail to bite back a hiss.
“I’m a colleague of his, and oh, I guess we have some history, actually pun intended on that.I teach art history here. Are you a prospective student?” Yoona asked, and you stared at her and looked back to see Seungcheol ’s poker face staring back at you.
“No, I’m not a student. I’m amazed that you’d think that,” you replied, unable to keep the slight bite use a different word your tone had to it.
“Well, what do you?” Yoona asked, and you were about to answer when Yoona beat you to the punch.
“Well, you must be a fellow academic. Our Cheol here has a type,” Yoona said as she shot you a wink and waltzed away from the conversation, leaving you a mess and Seungcheol angry.
“Okay, I’m going to leave you two to it,” Jeonghan said as he rushed off too. You started to feel the room close in on you and you just wanted to leave.
“Would you excuse me? I need to make a phone call,” you said hastily as you ripped your arm out of Seungcheol’s hold and nearly ran out of the ballroom and outside to a quieter area of the venue until you found a secluded bench to sit on as you gathered your thoughts.
“I thought I’d find you here,” you turned around to see Seungcheol standing, staring at you withhis hands in his pockets and looking at you with an emotion you couldn’t decipher. Was it guilt or annoyance?
“That’s Yoona?” You asked, and Seungcheol simply stared at you.
“The Yoona?” You repeated, and Seungcheol sighed, nodding as he walked over to stand across from you. You could not look at him.
“What?” Seungcheol asked, and you let out a dry laugh at his ability to be so damn obtuse.
“This is the woman who broke your fucking heart. You work alongside her, and you never once thought to, oh, I don’t know, mention that she is not only your ex but your fucking colleague?” You snarled another word, and Seungcheol sighed.
“Grow up, adultshave to- what?” Seungcheol paused mid-speech when he saw you glaring at him.
“Do not fucking patronise me. This is not an age issue. Your ex,who at the mention of her name, you become a frigid bastard.You failed to mention that you work with her!” You repeated, raising your voice.
“What do you fucking expect me to do to? Run away? We met here, fuck, I’m a grown man. I can’t run from my problems!” Seungcheol shouted back, and you sighed.
“You don’t get it do you?” You choked out.
“No, because you’re acting like a fucking child, and I am not one. I need to deal with every situation, no matter how unpleasant it is!” Seungcheol spat.
“Fuck, shut the fuck up about being more mature because you’re not, not even for a fucking second. How the fuck do you expect to have a future with me when your past is there in front of your eyes every fucking day, and the worst part is that you never told me. You act as if I gave you this new lease on love, but now I don’t know if that’s something you can sustain because the woman who broke your heart is your colleague. What if one day she wants to try again? How do I know that I know that you won’t go running?” You rambled, letting a tear slide down your face.
“You’re being selfish and so fucking unfair,” Seungcheol retorted.“Do you not think so?” Seungcheol asked rhetorically
.“Fucking hell, I told you she cheated on me while I was fucking engaged. Do you think I have no dignity or some shit that I’d go back running to the woman who ruined me?” Seungcheol yelled, and you shrank into yourself.
“Can you just do what I do, and fucking grow up and realise that in life you need to put up with people who you may not what anything to do with, but that’s what being an adult is like?” Seungcheol continued to yell, each word piercing your heart.
“Oh, then again, what would you fucking know about being an adult? You are a 25-year-old with no fucking direction in life. You have no stable job or anything stable. In contrast, all your friends are either settling down, and you fuck, you sit at home with no motivation to go out and find yourself some work,” Seungcheol yelled, using your biggest insecurity against you.
“You have no fucking stability, and you act like a fucking child, so don’t you dare lecture me on how to behave,” Seungcheol spat and then sighed deeply when he realised what he said.
“Y/N-,” Seungcheol started to say, and you held your hand up to him.
“No, fuck don’t, Cheol, don’t you fucking dare. You used my biggest insecurity against me. Who the fuck does that, huh?” You asked, and Seungcheol sighed, looking down.
“As for stability, you’re right. I don’t have a ton, but if there was something that I thought gave me some semblance of stability, I thought it’d be you.I thought that at least it would you, but you aren’t my safety net anymore, are you?” You yelled, and Seungcheol looked down in shame.
“I’m sorry. I told you seeing her makes me turn into something else!” Seungcheol weakly defended, and you glared at him.
“No. Fuck you, you don’t get to do this. What about being an adult, huh? Being an adult means not getting set off by every situation that doesn’t favour you. Instead, it’s about finding ways to cope. It’s about setting boundaries, so your past doesn’t hurt you and hurt the people in your present,” you choked out the last word as Seungcheol took a step forward towards you.
“Y/N,” Seungcheol started to say, and you ignored him.
“Just fucking go back to your party. I’m going home. I’ll text you, but please leave me alone for tonight,” you said, pushing past Seungcheol.
“Please let me know when you get home,” Seungcheol said weakly, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“I said I would, didn’t I? Now, fucking move,” you spat, storming out of the garden and out of the venue as you waited for your Uber to arrive.
You had barely gotten home that night when you heard someone pounding on your front door. You groaned, knowing it was Seungcheol. You glared at the front door, hoping that if you ignored the incessant pounding, then he’d get the hint and he’d just leave, but Seungcheol was relentless. You knew that.
You sighed, walking to the front door and opening it to reveal your teary-eyed boyfriend.
“Baby, can I please explain?” Seungcheol asked, and you ignored him as you let him into your house, and he closed the front door behind him.
You started walking back into the house, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Once you were inside, you turned to him, and before you could say anything. Seungcheol dropped to his knees, hugging your waist, begging for forgiveness. You ran your hands through his hair.
“Cheol, it’s okay.”
Seungcheol carried you to the shower, where he helped you shower and clean. He helped you dry up and pulled you into his arms once you were both curled up on the bed.
Seungcheol ’s fingers were gently ghosting your cunt. You felt him turn you to face him; he captured your lips in his full ones. His hand finding your core, rubbing your clit, he did this till you fell apart. He repeated that almost four times until he pushed himself inside you till he came.
You couldn’t sleep that night. Only one question plagued your mind.
Since when did sex make up for an apology?
You woke up the following day sore and worn out. Not just from the fight last night that left you out and alone in the cold but also from Seungcheol fucking you into the mattress. You heard faint snores from him, and you took it as an opportunity to get some alone time. You wondered, did he think sex would make up for what had happened?
After showering and cleaning yourself up, you headed to the kitchen to make breakfast, subconsciously making breakfast for two. You were stirring the noodles waiting for the water to boil, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. You felt Seungcheol place kisses along your neck, and you melted into his embrace for a second until the events of last night came back to you.
“Cheol, can you set the table up? I’ll get breakfast ready.” You said and you felt Seungcheol press a kiss to your cheek before running off to set the dining table. Once you made your way over with the contents of breakfast, you sat down and started to eat.
“Baby?” Seungcheol’s voice broke the silence, and you looked up to see him staring at you. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. You felt your heart clench.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry about last night,” Seungcheol started to apologise again; his voice was breaking as he tried to contain himself.
“Which part, Seungcheol? The part where you failed to introduce me as your girlfriend, or the part where you threw my insecurities against me, or the part where you told me to grow the fuck up?” You fumed.
“All of it, all of it,” Seungcheol said, standing up to kneel in front of you. “I fucked up so much, but,” Seungcheol started to say, and you interrupted him.
“If you think that fucking me last night made it better, it didn’t because now I’m wondering if you think sex is the solution to all our problems,” you said.
“Never, I just, I’m shit with words at times, and I knew that at least my actions could prove my love to you. It’s a shit thing to do, but I didn’t do it to distract you from last night,” Seungcheol replied.
“I want to talk about everything, but I want a breakdown of everything. First, why did you pull away from me when you saw Yoona? Were you embarrassed?” you asked, your voice breaking, and Seungcheol shook his head.
“Of course not,” Seungcheol replied swiftly, and you glared at him.
“Because all I do wonder if when you call what we have love, you never call it what it is,” you admitted, and Seungcheol sighed as he stood up.
“Come on, let’s talk on the couch,” Seungcheol offered, and you stood up, taking Seungcheol ’s hand as you walked over to your couch.
“I tell you, I love you,” Seungcheol said, and you nodded.
“You do tell me that you love me, but the way you do it is like it’s a secret,” you mumbled, feeling a tear roll down your cheek.
“I get that I’m younger, and I’m not some fancy professor with a huge savings account, but the way you act at times, you act like you are ashamed of me. Fuck, for Yoona to say that you deviated from your type to date me. What does that mean? Am I some charity case, where you’ll date a non-academic girl, and then later I’ll be a notch in your belt, a funny story to tell over Christmas, with your real wife, and everything?” You babbled as you broke into a sob, and you felt Seungcheol pull you into his arm as he hugged you tightly.
“You think about a future with me?” Seungcheol asked, and you scoffed.
“Is that all you took from everything I just said?” You asked.
“No, but it gave me hope. Look, Yoona brings out the worst in me, and you were right last night to tell me that as adults, we can let that jar us or act out because that’s life, right? Meeting people and getting to know people you may not like is life, but Yoona, at one point, was my life. She was my future until she ruined it. Every time I see her, I lash out because I’m brought back to the headspace that I was in when she cheated,” Seungcheol explained, pausing to take a breath.
“She reminds me of every insecurity I had, she takes me back to a very dark headspace, and instead of working my way out of that, I lash out because fuck, I’m scared that it’ll happen again,” Seungcheol admitted looking down.
“You think I’d cheat on you?” You asked.
“No, but you’re young, gorgeous, and still have so much ahead of you. I woudn’t blame you if you found someone your age,” Seungcheol mumbled, making you scoff again.
“I’m with you, aren’t I? Unless this is your plan? Pushing me so far that I no longer want to be with you? Is that what you’re trying to do?” You asked, and Seungcheol shook his head immediately.
“Then why the fuck is this constantly an issue?” You snapped, and Seungcheol winced slightly at your tone.
“I guess when I first started dating you, you were so different and, in a good way, a fresh breath of air, but everyone around me started joking that maybe you know it was just a fling because we are so opposite at times. However, as the months with you progressed, I know that’s not it.I know I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry that for so long I made you feel otherwise,”
Seungcheol paused to take a breath. “I love you, and I am serious about this. I want to make this work, I do,” Seungcheol admitted another word.
“Then stop lashing out at me and talk to me. Stop running away from me, run to me instead,” you said softly, and Seungcheol smiled at you.
“I didn’t mean what I said about you having no stability. It was so fucking shitty of me to use your insecurity against you. I just, fuck, there’s no excuse, I’m just fucking sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, his head hanging low.
“Yeah, that stung. Look, how about we take a week, cool off, and I guess catch up in a week?” You offered, and Seungcheol agreed.
“How’s this, I’ll plan a getaway for us, and I’ll cook us food too!” Seungcheol suggested, and you laughed.
“I’ll follow a recipe to a tee and have Mingyu monitor me?” Seungcheol proposed making you grin at him.
“Fine, but if I get sick from your food,” you started to say, and Seungcheol laughed.
“Then I’ll kiss it all better for you,” Seungcheol said lamely.
“I’ll see you in a week, my love, and remind you why you fell in love with me,” Seungcheol promised as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you smiled as you watched him walk away.
You let out a breath you didn’t realise that you were holding when he walked away. You nodded to yourself. You and Seungcheol would be fine, this was a slight tear in the safety net, but you two would be fine, you convinced yourself, for it was only a tiny tear.
“Hey,” you mumbled, embarrassed, as Mia opened her front door the following evening.
“What, have you come here to tell me I deserve no love or something?” Mia spat, and you felt like you had been slapped, and looked down in shame. You deserved that much.
“Mia, I fucked up. Can we talk, though?” You asked, holding the box of doughnuts in your hand, and she sighed, nodding as she let you in.
“So, what, I’m assuming the Mr. Perfectly Wrong fucked up again?” Mia mocked, and you sighed as you kicked off your shoes and sat on her couch.
“He was engaged in the past, and she was like his dream girl,” you said, unable to stop the way your voice trembled at recalling Yoona and realising how she was the opposite of you. She was dignified, elegant, older, wiser, or whatever other negative thought you tortured yourself with.
“She still works with him. They both teach at the university; he never told me, Mia. I had to find out because I met her at a university event,” you mumbled, unable to stop the tear that slid down your face.
Mia sighed as she sat down next to you, and you took it as a positive sign to launch into the story of the fight.
“Oh, that mother fucker!” Mia swore, and you flinched at her expression.
“Mia, he was hurt,” you mumbled, and she scoffed.
“How many excuses do you want to give this piece of shit? I get that love is blind. I fucking do. You cruelly pointed it out to me, but let me tell you something, my love, he’s blinded you. He’s no good for you. He’s condescending, judgmental, rude, and worst of all you keep forgiving him when he gives you half-assed apologies!” Mia ranted, making you look down in shame.
“Is that who you want to fucking be with?” Mia asked. “A man who keeps you like a secret, aman who acts like you’re a kid, a man who talks down to you?” You sighed.
“Maybe it’s just a bad spell. He’s not like this, ever,” you defended, and Mia groaned, rubbing her forehead.
“This man, I don’t care how good the sex is or how amazing the good moments are. The good moments aren’t enough to mask that he is inherently flawed and has a complex. A complex that he will project onto you, and you will struggle to try to meet the ideal woman in his head. Still, you’ll try all your life because that woman doesn’t exist, and not to be unkind, but it’s because that woman will never exist for him. He doesn’t know what he wants,” Mia explained, calming down as she sat down next to you.
“He said he loved me,” you mumbled weakly, and Mia nodded.
“I’m not denying that he cares for you, but his ego comes before you, Y/N. You will bend over backward for this man, and you have, but see if he even bothers to put in an ounce of that same effort that you put into this relationship,” Mia continued , and you glared at her.
“You know what? I didn’t come here to be yelled at. I get enough of that from him!” You seethed, and Mia frowned at you.
“There, right there, if you can’t even figure out what’s so fucked up about that sentence, then I don’t know what even to tell you,” Mia said.
“We’ve hit a rough spot, but we’ll be fine,” you shouted, almost as if you were convincing yourself more than Mia.
“You know what, I’ll be here when this illusion is broken,” Mia mumbled, standing up, and you took that as your cue to leave.
You stormed out of Mia’s house and drove straight to Seungcheol’s.
“Baby?” Seungcheol asked when he opened the door and saw your downcast expression.
“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol asked, and you shook your head at him.
“Can I stay here? I know we’re meant to meet at the end of the week, but I just need you,” you asked.
“Of course, my love, you know where everything is. I just have to grade one more paper. Then I’ll join you?” Seungcheol asked.
You were so worn out from the week's dramatics that you quickly showered, changed into one of Seungcheol ’s shirts, and headed to bed. You curled up in Seungcheol ’s bed. You smiled when you felt him join you later that night, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
Protecting you, never letting you go, he was your safe space.
You woke up the following morning to something stroking your thighs, and you opened your eyes to see Seungcheol ’s head placed between your legs. He was kissing your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your cunt.
You moaned as you spread your legs, placing them onto his shoulders. Seungcheol ’s luscious lips wrapped around your clit.
As he sucked, his pressure was perfect. He pushed in two fingers and thrust them in your cunt, as he sucked on your clit. He licked and fingered until you came around his fingers. Occasionally, he would run his tongue up and down your wet folds but always go back to your cunt.
“Morning, princess,” Seungcheol greeted as he hovered over your body and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. It felt like the first time you slept with him.
Passionate yet soft, you felt loved, and that was not something you felt in his embrace for a while.
“Morning, handsome,” you mumbled sleepily as Seungcheol pulled you on top of him. You felt his cock hard and waiting. You moved and sat up and slowly sank on his length.
“Fuck!” You let out a groan of pleasure. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him.
You wanted to see him fall apart underneath you. You trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You sighed, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt. You hadn’t cum yet, and Seungcheol knew that.
“Princess, over here,” Seungcheol motioned to your mouth, and you moved, legs shaking as you sat on his waiting tongue. Seungcheol, as always, licked you clean of his cum.
You both were still in bed in the afternoon, simply embracing and kissing each other, when Seungcheol spoke, breaking the silence.
“So, do you want to make the trip a little earlier?” Seungcheol asked, and you looked at him, smiling.
“Can you take leave on such short notice?” You asked.
“Baby, it’s reading week for the students, so yes, I don’t need to worry about them for now. I want to focus on us.”
~~A Trip Upstate~~
“Got everything?” You asked Seungcheol for the fifth time. You had to stop yourself from laughing as your boyfriend kept going back and forth between his apartment and his car, forgetting something with each trip.
“Wait, oh, for the fucking love of god. I forgot the car keys,” Seungcheol groaned as he ran back into the house, and you laughed at him some more. You were still laughing when he came back.
“Hi,” Seungcheol said sweetly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, capturing you in a warm hug.
“I like seeing you like this, happy and laughing,” Seungcheol said, making you smile at him.
“Well, you make me laugh and happy,” you admitted, placing your chin on his chest and looking up at him.
“I’ve been fucking that up a lot, but I promise you, this time I won’t fuck up. I love you, and I need to get back to showing you that it’s not an empty promise,” Seungcheol spoke, and you reached up to pull him into a soft kiss.
“I love you, and thank you,” you mumbled against his lips.
“Shall we, my love? There’s a nice cabin I want to take you to upstate, and it has our names written on it,” Seungcheol said , and you nodded as he helped you into the car.
The drive up to the cabin was filled with jokes, laughter, and a few kisses here and there. It felt normal. Like you finally got your Seungcheol back, like all the fights could be forgotten because he was back to normal here. However, that hope ended the second you and Seungcheol started fighting over how to cook a dish.
“Why are you so mean about this? I’m helping you; you don’t even know how to peel a fucking onion!” You snapped at Seungcheol, who was crushing the microwavable rice packet.
“I might not know how to peel a fucking onion, but at least I’m not a 25-something that has no fucking direction in life!” Seungcheol spat back, making you exhale deeply.
“Y/N,” Seungcheol started to say, and you glared at him.
“No, Cheol, what the fuck, what the actual fuck? You’ve been using my insecurity against me twice now, and what-do you think each time you apologise, I’ll come back crawling? Or something? I’m tired of this, and I’m,” you took a deep breath to collect yourself.
You would not let Seungcheol see you fall apart, not when he was the reason behind the tears.
“We’re done,” You stated calmly, glaring at Seungcheol, who didn’t dare follow you as you walked away,.You grabbed your overnight bag and called an Uber, heading out of the cabin.
You weren’t sure if you had properly ended the relationship between the two of you, but you were tired of constantly giving him the benefit of the doubt, and for him to only shatter it the second he felt remotely attacked.
1 Month Later: The Breaking Point
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you mumbled to Mia, who had picked you up from the floor of your house last night. You had called her on your way back home, and thankfully she didn’t ask many questions, and just tried to help you.
Since you left Seungcheol, you didn’t know where you two stood. He made no effort to contact you, so you just assumed that since you yelled. “We are done,” at him, that you were.
Seungcheol took the hint and left you, but what pained you the most was that he could never run after you.
You craved his touch, his voice. You wanted him, but his lack of effort made you think he wanted nothing to do with you. Were you just a waste of time for him?
You thought that what you two had was a masterpiece, or what was that before he tore it all apart? Or was it you? Were you the one who tore it all to pieces?
All that to say, you had held yourself together, well, or at least you could put on a happy face. You just plastered on a fake smile and went on about your day. You put your efforts into your job out of spite.
You wanted to prove to Seungcheol that you weren’t some bumbling idiot, but instead, you were a 25-year-old with things going for her. You wanted him to see you wanted him to be proud of you, but he wasn’t here to see it. Maybe he never cared.
Your breaking point was this afternoon. You had just secured a huge contract, and just as you had signed on the dotted line, you wanted to share it with Seungcheol. You froze mid-text when you realised that he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if you had done something remarkable because you two were done, so why should he care?
So, you started bawling at home and shakily dialed Mia’s number, and that’s when she came to your rescue. She came to find you when you were at your lowest, and you felt guilt engulf you. You had defended Seungcheol to her, insulting her viciously, but she never batted an eyelid.
“You know most people say thank you,” Mia joked, and you sighed.
“I am thankful, trust me, more than you know. I know you want to say I told you so, so go for it,” you snapped, and Mia shook her head as she helped you sit on the couch.
“He lost the one real thing he had. That’s not on you. He never fought enough for you,” Mia explained as she pulled you into a gentle hug, which made you blubber and, thus, make you cry more.
“Nothing, nothing from him, for a fucking month, Mia! Nothing. I thought he loved me and saw a future with me and all that bullshit, but he did not fucking bother, not once, to even be like, are you okay? Nothing, he just, fuck, wait, I think my phone is ringing in the bag. Can you help me grab it?” You asked, and Mia nodded, scrunching her nose at the private number.
“I swear if it’s that fucker calling through a random ass number to get to you, he’s going to get the living lights smacked out of him,” Mia threatened as she handed your phone to you.
“Hello?” You answered.
“Hello, Miss Y/N. We have been given your number as an emergency contact. Do you know Mr. Choi Seungcheol ?”
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” You asked, your voice trembling. What happened to Seungcheol?
“Sorry, I’m Nurse Lee. I’m calling from the Seoul National Hospital. We have been given your number as an emergency, so we are calling to ask if you could come down and sign a few things for us?” You sighed in relief, but only slightly.
You got into your car, not caring if you got a fine for speeding. You reached the hospital and parked, running in your heels to the main lobby. You frantically explained that you got a call and were quickly ushered upstairs to the wards.
You heard laughing and opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend laughing with the doctor. His eyes widened as he saw, and just like that, his laughter faded. The doctor noticed your presence, and he waved you in.
“You must be Y/N. Thank you for coming here. We just need to discharge him, and we need you to sign a few forms for him.” You nodded, still confused, “I’ll be back in around thirty minutes. I’ll let you two catch up.” The doctor left the room and left you both alone.
“Cheol?” You said softly.
Seungcheol wasn’t looking at you. You walked to his bedside when you saw there was enough space. You sat down slowly and held his face in your hands. He reluctantly looked at you.
“What happened?” you asked. You let go of his face so he could talk.
“It’s not a big deal,” He said. You rolled your eyes.
“It is, especially if you’re in the hospital.” You countered.
“Don’t laugh.” He said, warning you. You nodded. “So, long story short, I may have dropped a knife on my foot.” You looked at him, perplexed.
“How?”
“I was cooking, and it was going well. Then the knife slid off the counter and onto my foot. I didn’t lose a toe, just a lot of blood. So yeah, by the time I got here, I passed out from blood loss, and I guess that’s why they called you.” He blurted in one go, and you tried to stifle a laugh.
“Seriously?” He said, but you could hear the smile in his voice. His heart warmed at the sight of you smiling. It had been so long since he was the reason for your smile.
“I’m so sorry, but why were you trying to cook?” You asked.
Seungcheol ’s laugh faded, and he paused. “I noticed a lot about me that I’m not good at. Cooking is at the top. I felt as if I could attempt to conquer that maybe I can do more in life,” Seungcheol looked down at his hands covered in wires. You touched his thigh, making him look at you.
“You are good at so much,” you countered, and Seungcheol shook his head.
“Professionally, maybe, but my personality? No. Nothing great there,” Seungcheol said, resignation lacing his tone. You opened your mouth to say something, and Seungcheol spoke first. “I’m not saying this to guilt-trip you into taking me back. After you broke up with me, I started seeing someone,” your hand jerked away from his thigh, which confused Seungcheol until he saw the heartbreak on your face.
“No, Y/N. I meant seeing a professional,” Seungcheol said, laughing.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, unsure what you were apologising for.
“If you think I’m even close to being able to move on from you, you’re insane.”
“Come on, let me drive you home?” You said, Seungcheol nodded.
“I appreciate it, thank you.”
While driving, something occurred to you, and you had to ask. “Cheol, um, how come I was your emergency number? Last I remembered, you said it was Jeonghan?” Seungcheol blushed and scratched his neck.
“Uh, well, it’s embarrassing now, but I changed it three months into us dating,” his confession, making you almost drive through a red light.
“Why?”
“Ugh, I sound so stupid because we’re not together, but I guess I wanted you to know I trust you. I know my actions during our relationship were deeply contradictory to that. I also knew that you would be the one for me.”
“The one? In three months?” You asked.
Seungcheol smiled fondly at you. “Can you pull over?”
Seungcheol fished out his wallet, looked for something, and pulled out a small silver ring.
“Seungcheol, what the fuck?”
“Trust me; it’s not a proposal. I don’t think I’ll be that lucky. I just thought it was something I should get after three months. I wanted to give this to you, but then I hurt you so many times after, and each time, we tried to make it work, and I kept on fucking it up for us. It was a promise ring that I’d never hurt you again, and I guess I failed.” Seungcheol admitted, and you noticed a tear fall down his face.
“Why do you still have the promise ring?” You asked.
“Wishful thinking, I guess?” Seungcheol replied.
“I miss you,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol heard you.
“We can try again,” you offered weakly.
“No, not yet. Let me learn. Let me be a better man for you. If I can’t, then know you deserve so much more,” Seungcheol spoke, and you smiled softly at him.
You resumed driving. Upon reaching Seungcheol ’s house, you pulled up and helped him out of the car and into his apartment. You laughed when you saw the floor covered in blood. It was not a normal reaction, but the backstory was quite amusing.
“Hey, Cheol, why don’t you lie down? I’ll clean this up for you?” You said.
“No, I can manage,”
You glared at him. “Trust me,it’s safer that I do this,” You laughed as you watched him hobble to his bedroom. Thank goodness he didn’t live in a multi-story house.
After cleaning up, you found Seungcheol sitting in his bed, playing music and softly humming. You knocked on his door. Seungcheol smiled and waved you in.
“Hi.”
“Blood’s gone,” you said, and he patted the space next to you, and you sat down on the bed next to him.
“Thank you. Somehow, you’re always cleaning after my mess.”
“Seungcheol, don’t,” your voice firm.
“I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Fuck, come here,” he patted the space in front of him. You carefully moved and sat between his legs so as not to hurt his bandaged foot. Seungcheol pulled your hair to the side, kissing softly on the nape of your neck.
“Just please, don’t break me apart again because I don’t think I’ll recover anymore if you do,” you pleaded, and Seungcheol turned you around in his embrace so that you faced him.
“Never again, I promise,” Seungcheol promised. bullshit
“Okay, so where is your boyfriend?” Mia asked, venom dripping off every word, and you rolled your eyes at her.
“He probably got caught up with work. Can you fucking let it go?” You asked, and Mia shrugged.
“I’m just saying, for a man walking on thin fucking ice, he better at least bother with his girlfriend’s birthday party,” Mia stated before walking out of the room to place balloons in another part of your apartment.
You sighed, knowing she was right, but Seungcheol was busy. Maybe he’d be late, but he’d show up. You kept telling yourself this until midnight when he never showed up, but you were several drinks in and had enough liquid courage to storm over to his place, which is precisely what you did.
You hailed a cab and made the drunken journey to his.
Your conscience was warning you. You paid no attention.
Yousure as hell ignored it for long enough. You could continue to do so.
You knocked on the door, and the door opened to reveal a shirtless Seungcheol in a pair of black sweats. You had lost all sense of rationality, and at this point, you didn’t know what was right or wrong.
“Y/N?” Seungcheol asked, confused, as would anyone. He couldn’t help but take in your appearance, how your cleavage left little to the imagination, but he knew the reality was better, how your heels made your ass seem even rounder. Your face was beautiful as always, but your mascara had run slightly, and your nose was red.
“Can I come in?” You asked. He nodded quickly, letting you in and closing the door behind him.
Seungcheol slowly guided you to the sofa, and he sat down, waiting for you to sit beside him. Instead, you straddled him, your legs on either side of his hips.
“My birthday. I got a crappy, “happy birthday” text from you, and you don’t show up to my party. What the fuck is wrong with you? This is not the attitude from someone who wants another chance,” you fumed, and Seungcheol stared at you sighing. He had no excuse, none whatsoever.
“Y/N, I—” You shut Seungcheol up with a kiss. You rolled your hips against his crotch, and you could feel that underneath his sweats, he was naked. No boxers. You could partially feel his cock against your lace-covered cunt.
“Y/N, I, what’s going on, fuck,” Seungcheol stopped speaking as you started sucking his neck, gently grazing your teeth against his neck andmaking him whimper for you. You felt his cock harden fully underneath you. You pulled away from his neck for a moment.
“Cheol, at this moment, I need to forget that I’m mad at you,” you admitted, and Seungcheol sighed before nodding as his grip on your thighs tightened.
“I’m not saying no; you don’t need to apologise, and you don’t need to leave, but we need to talk when we’re done,” Seungcheol added.
“I will.”
“Good.” Cheol stood up from his position and carried you into the bedroom. And he noticed your makeup had smudged and brought you to the bathroom. He placed you on the counter, his lips immediately finding yours. Kissing you, his lips pulled and sucked on yours. You moaned, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth.
Seungcheol deepened the kiss. His hands found the straps of your dress; he pushed them down. You hissed as your breasts met the cold air of the room. Seungcheol helped you out of the dress, leaving you in your soaked underwear. He groaned at the sight. His hands went to your legs, pushing the heels off your feet, his lips never leaving yours. He moved his hands to your underwear and pulled it off. He groaned when he saw how wet you were.
He pushed his sweats down and undressed; he stood erect and naked in front of you, and you took a moment to drink in his appearance. Seungcheol guided you into the shower, and you let out a moan, when you felt the warm water hit your skin. Soothing you, you felt Seungcheol turn you around and push your back against the wall. He placed kisses down your neck, his lips finding your breasts. He sucked and nibbled your nipple as his other hand massaged and squeezed and tugged the other breast. Cheol moved his body down yours as his lips found your cunt.
Seungcheol placed a soft kiss. He gently lifted a leg and wrapped it around his broad shoulders. He pushed two fingers inside of you, groaning at how wet you were, where he could practically taste your arousal. He angled his fingers inside you and started to finger you, and his lips found your core, as he ran his tongue against your folds.
He pulled your clit between his teeth, gently grazing the swollen bud. You whimpered. He replaced his teeth with his plush lips. Wrapping them around your clit and sucking as his fingers pounded into you. He kept his movements up until you came. You tightened against his fingers, and your clit throbbed in his mouth as he helped you ride out your orgasm.
Seungcheol gently unhooked your leg from his, and you sank to your knees. You pushed against his toned abs, and his back hit the shower wall. You wrapped your lips around his cock; he was thick. While your hands wrapped around the remainder of his length, you took him and started to suck him. He let out a low growl and a strangled whimper as you continued to suck him. You grazed your nails along his thighs and whimpered, bucking his length into your throat, making you gag slightly. You kept sucking until you felt him still and releasein your mouth.
You smirked as Seungcheol was panting. He pulled you two on your feet and into a sweet kiss. He cleaned the both of you up, his hands finding your face and washing the smudged mascara off your face. He guided you out of the shower and to his bed. You moaned as you felt the soft sheets against your naked body.
Seungcheol couldn’t get enough of you. His eyes drank you in. His mouth was desperate to taste you again. He approached you, lifted your legs, and placed them on his shoulder. His mouth found your cunt again. He started by placing soft kisses against your cunt, knowing where to lick you.
He wasted no time. He dove straight in, his thick tongue flicking against your swollen clit. Your hands made their way into his hair. He pushed in three fingers this time. He lapped at your arousal while you whimpered in oversensitivity. It didn’t take much after that for you to cum on his tongue.
Seungcheol rubbed his cock against your wet folds several times and then pushed in. You hissed as the stretch was quite intense after two orgasms, but he felt so good. You tugged on his hair, making him look up at you. You brushed your thigh against his hardened length, and he wasted no time.
“Move”, you whispered, and that’s all it took for Seungcheol to lift your legs and place them on his shoulders, allowing him to hit deeper inside you. His thrusts were rough, and each time, he would withdraw only to push back harder and deeper.
He leaned down and captured your lips in his. You melted into the kiss while he pounded into your cunt. You were a mumbling and moaning mess underneath him. You felt yourself clench around this length, making him groan into the kiss. He pushed a few more times until you fell apart on his cock.
He pulled out of you gently and laid down beside you.
You woke up a few hours later, not realising you had fallen asleep.
You woke up to at least thirty texts and missed calls from Mia, and you sighed, stepping out of Seungcheol’s bedroom to call her. You quickly told her what happened last night, and Mia could only relay her disappointment.
“Do you not see how far gone you are, Y/N; you’re making excuses for him. People like him don’t do this just once.”
“He was busy and couldn’t make it,” you explained, and Mia scoffed.
“Y/N, I’m telling you as someone who has been through something like this. He will leave you broken.” You scoffed, and your following words were nothing but pure venom.
“Mia, you had a relatively hot boyfriend, and he dumped your ass. So I guess you’re not too different to me since the only thing you’re good for is looking the way you do. You couldn’t keep him either..” You kept your voice stern and firm.
Mia groaned. “I won’t ever say I told you so, but when the inevitable happens, you know where to find me. I’ll listen because I know you won’t.” With that, Mia hung up.
You sank to the floor.
How did a loving relationship with your boyfriend leave you so drained and lashing out at others to defend him? What went wrong?
“Hey, did I interrupt something?” Seungcheol asked, startling you, and you stood up, shaking your head. You didn’t want to get into it with him right now.
“Here,” Seungcheol said, handing you a coffee mug, and you nodded, taking it.
“You’re right. My actions last night weren’t of a boyfriend trying hard to prove that he’s worthy of being with you,” Seungcheol explained, and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m tired of hearing you apologise. I need you to show me that you’re fucking sorry,” you said .
“What about a date tomorrow? There’s a gala at my university. Don’t worry, it won’t be like last time, I promise,” Seungcheol begged, and you sighed, nodding.
You weren’t exactly sure what made you want to give him a second chance, but maybe because you loved him or the idea of him, you weren’t entirely sure which one. You just knew that regardless of what the situation was with you two. With him, it still felt like home somehow.
DIVDER:
You and Seungcheol walked hand in hand to his gala; this time, he wasn’t distant, curt, or moody. He was jovial, greeted everyone, and introduced you until Yoona entered the picture.
Seungcheol wasn’t flirting, but he sure as hell didn’t bother to hide how happy and excited he was to see his ex, considering he spent nearly 45 minutes talking to her. You stormed out of the venue and waited by his car until he noticed.. oblivious to your anger.
“Waiting long?” Seungcheol asked, and you scoffed.
“I’m amazed you remembered I existed. You seemed to be taken by Yoona. I thought I was a distant memory,” you mocked, earning a glare from Seungcheol.
“Let’s just go home, yeah?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded, following him into his car.This time, he didn’t help you in.“When the fuck did I give you a reason to think I’d cheat? How many times do I need to fucking tell you that Yoona and I are done?” Seungcheol bellowed suddenly, and you sighed.
“That’s not the fucking point!” You yelled back, and Seungcheol sighed, loosening his tie.
“The point is that you always gloss over our problems, you always act like I’m a child or something, and you never tell me the truth. When I get mad, you act like I’m insane even to be upset. Do you know how that fucking feels?” You yelled, and Seungcheol glared at you.
“Not my fucking problem thatyou don’t understand how the fuck relationships work, or maybe you’re too fucking immature to make one work,” Seungcheol hissed as his grip on the steering wheel only got tighter.
“This is so fucking rich coming from you considering the fucking fact your ex dumped you, and yet you’re so obsessed with her that you didn’t care that she cheated on you. Instead of spending the night with me, someone who loves you, you cosied up to someone who walked all over you!” You yelled.
“Y/N, get out of the car before I make you!” Seungcheol yelled, making you whimper at his tone and words.
“Seungcheol, please, I’m so sorry,” you were begging, but Seungcheol ignored you. He leaned over and opened the car door. You looked at him; his eyes were trained on the road ahead.
“Seungcheol, please don’t do this,” you begged. You knew you couldn’t change his mind, but you were scared. He didn’t seem to care. You reluctantly exited the car, gently closing the door behind you. Seungcheol wasted no time, and he sped away, drove off, and left you alone in the dark.
You were freezing, and your outfit did nothing to counter the cold. You let out a sob, your feet in absolute agony from the heels, and your mind an emotional mess. You pulled your phone out of your purse to call someone. You called Seungcheol, no response. You sighed more. Seeing as he would ignore you the entire night, you called the last person you could think of.
“Y/N? What? It’s two in the morning. What do you want?” Mia’s voice was hoarse and laced with sleep. You tried to reply but couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your throat.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mia asked, her voice now concerned.
“I don’t know where I am, and it’s dark and cold. I’m so sorry for disturbing you. I shouldn’t have—”
“Y/N, stop, pin me your location. I’m coming to get you,” You sobbed out a thank you and sent her your location.
Around twenty minutes later, you saw a car enter the empty street, and it screeched to a halt suddenly. Mia stepped out with a coat and ran towards you. She wrapped the coat around your body. She didn’t ask questions; she just guided you to heris car.
“Let’s get you home,” Mia said. She was fuming, but she was scared that if she yelled at you now—which she surely would, she’d break you into two.
“Do you want me to come in?” Mia asked as she pulled up outside your apartment, and you shook your head.
“I just need time alone, but thank you, Mia,” you said, who nodded as she watched you leave the car before waving to you and driving off.
“Baby! You’re safe!” You turned around to see Seungcheol running after you, and you sighed as you walked into your apartment. Seungcheol followed you, and this scene was one you knew all too well.
“You threw me out of the car!” You yelled the minute you were inside the apartment.
“I was scaredI’d say something worse if you stayed. I was trying to mitigate further damage.”
You rolled your eyes at him.“You’re a fucking moron.”
“I am, but I came back, I—” you interrupted him.
“For what? To apologise?” You asked, and you hated that hope still coated your words.
“No, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, you’re acting so fucking immature, but we’re not good for each other. I need someone who gets me. I can’t coddle you every five seconds because you got your fucking feelings hurt,” Seungcheol said, finality lacing his words.
“So, if we were closer in age, we would have worked?” You asked, and Seungcheol sighed, nodding.
“I’ll send someone for my things, and I’ll mail your things back to you by the end of the week,” Seungcheol mumbled as he walked out of your apartment.
He left as quickly as he came into your life. You’d experienced heartbreak before, but nothing like this. You wanted to die. You tried to stop feeling because the pain manifested into physical pain as you felt your entire body go numb and limp. You couldn’t handle it, and you felt all too much all at once.
The Reeling
It had been two weeks since Seungcheol broke up with you and after he returned your things to youin a box with no goodbye letter and nothing to give you any semblance of closure, you impulsively booked a train ticket to see your folks
If Seungcheol didn’t want to coddle you, you tried to find comfort in the two people you knew would.
“Y/N?” She was confused by how upset you were. Your mother practically yelled when she saw you at the front door, and you burst into tears the minute she saw you and hugged her.
“I missed you,” you cried into her arms while she was happy to see you.
“Come in. Why don’t you go to your room freshen up?” You nodded.
“Hi, stranger.” You said, scaring your father, who was too engrossed in a crossword puzzle.
“Y/N!” He yelled, standing up to hug you.
“Oh, who’s ass do I need to kick for you crying?” You shook your head.
“No one, I just missed you guys,” you lied, and your parents nodded knowingly.
“Freshen up, honey. We’ll be right here with food and a drink?” You nodded at your mother and headed to shower
“Seungcheol,” You answered your phone that was ringing. You had just gotten out of the shower and were drying your hair.
“Uh, hi. Sorry, I wanted to pick up my hoodie. I left it at yours, but you weren’t there, and I just wanted to check when you’d be back so I could get it?” Seungcheol asked, so casually, so casually cruel.
At least he was honest. You knew nothing was left there anymore,
“I’m visiting my folks; I’ll send it to yours when I’m back,” you said, keeping your tone neutral and devoid of emotions.
“Cool. Thanks,” Seungcheol said, hanging up before you could get a word out.
You broke down again. He called you, only to break you all over again.
“So, it’s a boy problem? It’s got to be,” your father mused after dinner. You two and your mother were in the living room, sipping wine and catching up.
“I was a fucking idiot. I gave him a chance after chance,he walked all over me, and I let him because I loved him,” you whined to your parents, who smiled sympathetically at you.
“I would rather you didn’t call yourself that. I didn’t raise one.” You smiled at your dad’s attempt to be funny.
“Well, I was,” You sighed, sipping the wine. You decided you’d tell your parents everything aside from the ridiculous amounts of sex that led you up to this moment.
“Why did you want to try so hard to keep him?” Your mother asked, and you shrugged.
“Because I loved him, or so I thought I did, but love shouldn’t hurt this much,” you mumbled.
“You know what? I was right when I believed that love is this huge thing that doesn’t exist, and aside from you two, I don’t see it anywhere.” You said, and your parents smiled softly,
“Honey, love isn’t easy. It takes so much effort and time to get it right, and even then, you can screw it up.”
“Then what, I screwed up?” You accused, and your mother shook her head.
“No, you tried and broke yourself into two to become someone he wanted. That is the furthest thing from love. It’ll hurt, but one day, when your paths cross again, you’ll be able to smile at him with no malice and thank him for putting you through hell because you’ll know what you never want again,” your mother explained, pulling you into a tight hug as you sobbed.
“He couldn’t even be bothered to attend my birthday,” you mumbled, sniffling pathetically, and your father nodded.
“That’s not a good sign, if I’m being honest, isn’t it meant to be fun, a birthday party?” Your father asked, and you could only shrug.
“Get your hair done or something,” your mum suggested the following week.
“Why?” You asked, and your mother smiled at you.
“Well, isn’t that what everyone does after a breakup? Get their hair done, and you’ve been moping for a week. Go outside, go and see the colourful world out there,” your mother said, kissing your forehead.
You laughed but decided to take up your mother’s advice, and soon enough, you found yourself in a hair salon.
“So, how do you want your hair done?” The stylist asked as he started to towel dry your hair.
“I’m not entirely sure, but something that screams I’m doing good and happy.” The stylist smiled.
“A few highlights and waves?” He suggested, and you grinned. You relaxed into the chair as the stylist worked on your hair.
You smiled at your appearance in the mirror. You felt fresh. You still felt pain, but the new hair did do wonders. You’d never understand the logic, but it helped, only for a second, until a voice stopped you in the shopping mall.
“Y/N?” Your blood ran cold, and you’d recognise that voice anywhere.
“Yoona,” you muttered, turning around as you faced her.
“Did you change your hair? I like it. It looks lovely!” Yoona smiled.
“Can I help you, Yoona?” You asked, not having the energy to pretend to care.
“I heard you and Cheol broke up?” Yoona said, and you cringed at her use of his nickname.
“Why, are you waiting to dig your claws into him?” You snapped, and Yoona shook her head.
“Look, I have no defense for what I did to him, but I’ll say this: There is an idea that Seungcheol has in his mind. Even if I didn’t fit that mould, should I have cheated? No, but it wouldn’t have mattered because I would never be enough for him, and neither were you. He has a version of a woman in his mind, which doesn’t exist. You dodged a bullet, my Y/N,” Yoona narrated as she walked off, leaving you speechless.
It was on your walk that all the puzzle pieces fit together. Yoona wasn’t wrong—granted, an unreliable source—but her words weren’t exactly wrong. You bent over backward to appease Seungcheol, but nothing was enough, and if Yoona, his “ideal girl,” failed to meet his idea, then what was his ideal?
A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflected on him? Was that all he ever needed: someone to make him look better?
You smiled, turning back to see Yoona walk into another shop. Maybe she was right; it’d take a while to reconcile and face the trauma of dating Choi Seungcheol, but you knew it wasn’t you anymore. You could have been carved by the gods themselves, but unless that god were Seungcheol, you would never be enough for him, and somehow you were okay with that.
You just needed now to heal, mend old relationships, and find yourself again, but you were a soldier who came back from war half her weight. You needed to regain strength from this, heal, and become someone who had learned from this.
You could do it. You’d get older and wiser, while his lovers would be the same, wide-eyed and keen until he tore them to shreds when he realised they weren’t the one.
You could move on. You’d be fine.
The Healing: 2 Years Later
You were fussing over your speech for the fifth time that day.
“Girl, it’s fine, you’ve worked your ass off for this app. I can’t believe you got SNU to sponsor this. You’ve grown up!” Mia said dramatically, making you laugh.
You two were okay again; it took a lot of healing, but you two were okay because you didn’t hurt anymore.
You were at the launch of your newest app, a website for students and teachers to connect quickly.You wanted to pitch it to SNU, and they agreed.
You had finally finished your presentation when your eyes locked with his.
You flashed him a smile, and he returned one.It was like nothing you imagined at that moment. Nothing hurt anymore; he was a painful memory, but he was your past.
You would sometimes wonder if the love affair between the two of you maimed him the way it maimed you, but you also figured that you could live without getting that answer from him.
You’d be okay. You weren’t okay then, but you are okay now.
You were okay before you met him, and you’d be okay after him.
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INFINITELY YOU
part two // crullers & constants
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
WORD COUNT - 4.2k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker
Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.
Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.
Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.
Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.
Or, at least, none that mattered.
But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.
It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.
Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.
After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.
And Peter never even asked why.
“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”
Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”
And how true that must have been.
There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.
He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?
Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”
You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!
“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”
It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”
Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.
You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?
“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”
“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”
The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.
Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”
Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.
“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.
Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.
“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”
Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.
You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”
Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”
Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.
“Did he?”
Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”
You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.
In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.
“Well did he have anything useful?”
He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.
Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.
“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.
“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.
“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.
Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”
Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.
“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”
Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.
“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”
“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”
You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”
Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.
“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”
By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.
Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”
“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”
Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”
“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.
Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”
“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”
“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”
You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”
“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”
Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!
“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”
“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”
He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”
“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.
“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.
If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.
You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.
“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…
Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”
Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.
“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.
He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?
“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”
He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.
Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.
But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.
The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.
Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.
Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.
“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”
He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”
You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.
“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”
You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”
Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”
His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.
“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.
“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.
There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”
You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”
Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”
In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.
Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.
“Mj happened.”
Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”
It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”
In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.
“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.
You sucked in a breath.
“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”
His brow snapped up. “What changed?”
Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.
But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.
“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”
An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.
“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”
“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”
“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”
“I’m not pretending-”
Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”
Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”
There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.
“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”
“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”
Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”
series masterlist
a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.
as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th
#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#no way home imagine#no way home fanfiction#no way home#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagines#spiderman imagines#tom!peter imagine#andrew!peter imagine#tobey!peter imagine#tom!peter x reader#andrew!peter x reader#tobey!peter x reader#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#mcu x reader#marvel x reader#marvel imagines#marvel headcanons#spiderman imagine#spiderman fic#spiderman fan fiction#dark spiderman#mcu#spiderman#spiderverse#tobey maguire#andrew garfield
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hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo
okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3
just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.
hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.
now for the characters!
---
VAGGIE VALTIEL:
starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.
CHARLIE:
next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!
the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition
tangent time!
as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)
back to the characters
Alastor:
note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning
with that being said...
alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does
(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)
Angel Dust:
TW: brief discussion of SA
this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.
i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.
LUTE:
so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...
with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties
i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.
Adam + Final Thoughts
i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell
final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios
#am i gonna do more? idk. we'll see#oh boy sorry about the seventy million tags#i eat bees#artist#oc artist#artists on tumblr#artist on tumblr#hazbin hotel#hazbin critical#hazbin redesign#hazbin rewrite#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critique#hazbin hotel redesign#hazbin hotel rewrite#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin vaggie#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin lute#hazbin art#hazbin hotel art
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hello all! been a moment since we last discussed some things, so I'm coming online to discuss the progress of Larkin's development and make a few announcements :)
over the last ten months, larkin has gone through a lot of changes, some of which I've documented here--but most of it I've kept pretty private. I realized that over the few short years I've been developing the game, I sort of grew an unhealthy dependence on my presence within the 'interactive fiction' community that I really, really needed to take a step back from and break, all in order to ensure that I could enjoy working on what originally started out as a passion project for me.
since july of last year, I've completely reshaped and rewritten how larkin exists as a project, shifted it's genre and started collaborating with a few others to ensure it can be of the highest quality it can possibly be. uptop, i'd like to mention @tapeworrmart who's taken on the immense task of putting together most of the game art for me, @khiita and @ann1a-1 who have both taken on the roles of my editors (and also sounding boards for when I am being absolutely insane) and my production manager phillip, who without his assistance, larkin would barely exist.
with that, let's do a progress report. the intended demo of larkin, or what i've taken to calling 'episode one' (yes, i said, 'episode,' more on that in a minute) has stretched to just over 200k words worth of content. it stretches all the way from the earliest versions of larkin's original prologue, to the end of the original chapter two. so far, we've completed 3 out of the intended 20 character portraits, as well as some more art that's slowly been in development.
now, on to the announcements. probably the biggest, and the one I am most ashamed of is--due to the fact that I've been slammed with graduate school work and some other external factors, Larkin as it currently exists is not the best that I think it can be. I'm deeply sorry for this, but I want to ensure that you all are getting the highest quality game you could get from me--and right now, I know it's just not that. Which is why I am unfortunately, pushing the release of the demo back until Friday, June 14th, 2024. Patrons will be granted access to the most recent edit of the demo two weeks earlier on Friday, May 31st 2024. In the meantime, I will be working day and night (quite literally) to get what I'm dropping on you up to par and something that I'm happy with.
To make up for this disappointment, I'm planning on repopulating the blog with a lot of content over the coming months, rewriting new versions of old asks, posting art and short stories.
Next on the agenda and also an equally important announcement. I'm changing the rating of Larkin to Mature or 18+ As I've been writing these past few months, working through a lot of themes and figuring out the story I want to tell, I've found that I think the change in rating is entirely necessary. While I don't think I've ever had that big of a minor fanbase--I think that this is just what I am most comfortable doing. There has consistently grown a little bit more of gore, and trauma exploration, which is the main reason for this change in rating, but, this does allow for the inclusion of something that I've been toying with since the intial release of the game. There is going to be explicit sex scenes in this new version of Larkin--all of which, you the player are able to opt out of, or completely avoid if that's something you want--but I just thought a little announcement would be warranted. This does not mean however, I am comfortable with answering thoroughly explicit asks or getting unsolicited sexual messages. The goal is to keep this game blog mainly tame.
Please respect this boundary of mine.
Third thing to be announced. I've also changed the format in which Larkin will be released. Rather than around the twenty-five chapters in one of a series of 'Books'/'Games', Larkin will be released episodically over four 'seasons' with eight-ten episodes of around 200k-250k words each (though, this is just an early estimate--they could grow longer, as I'm basing this purely off the demo/Episode One)
Finally and a little bit of a fun note: there are now twelve romance options throughout larkin, five male, three female, one non-binary and three gender-selectable. With those upcoming asks, you'll hear more about each in the coming days :)
With all that being said, I wanted to lastly thank all of you for supporting me over the years and putting faith and your interest in this project. truly, the support of all of you means the world to me and I can't wait to share more of larkin with you all.
thank you 💖
#larkin game#larkin if#larkin#announcement#game announcement#blog update#interactive fiction#if#cyoa#cyoa game#twine interactive fiction#twine#twine game#sugarcube twine
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I promise I searched your blog, but how do you (specifically) zero draft? The post that showed up in a search of your blog was like, bullet point writing whatever is in your head for the.wip, which I think is v cool and would help me finish lofm! So I'm curious how you do it!
Oh yes, okay! I don't think I've actually explained it anywhere, but I love talking about this.
what is a zero draft?
The great thing about a zero draft is that you can pretty much make it whatever you need it to be. For me, I was having a hard time with the middle of my story. I've started and stopped this wip so many times, always getting hung up at the same part as I approach the middle. I've always had a very clear picture of the beginning and the end, but never how to get all the way through from point A to point B. My original outline had things in brackets like [character growth] and [plot stuff], but what does that mean!?
My goal was to get all the way through. So I opened a blank document, started at the beginning, and literally rambled and talked my way through the entire story. I didn't write real prose. It was all stream of consciousness. It was me describing what happens in the story as if I was telling it to a friend. The zero draft was my rubber duck. This was my brainstorming document. I used common vernacular and slang and abbreviations. There are bullet points, numbered lists, sidebars where I rambled about a scene I completely forgot to mention in a previous section. Lots of comments about things I need to include in the next draft. Literally anything and everything I thought of went into the zero draft.
A zero draft can be as long or short as you need it to be. Mine ended up being around 40k words. But I've seen other people say a zero draft is 10k to 20k words. It's really up to you! And when you feel like you've covered enough of the story to move on to the next draft.
And you don't have to go about a zero draft the way I did! Recently, an author I love and follow on instagram (Casey McQuiston) shared in their stories that when they were writing their most recent book, they zero drafted each chapter before they wrote it out. Casey said that because of this, it was first time they didn't have major edits and rewrites afterwards. So if you find yourself needing a little more structure and sense of where you're going, I think a zero draft could be super helpful!
Of course you don't have to have a zero draft, and if you've got a good sense of the plot and character arcs, you might not need one. But it can be a great way to brainstorm and figure out those things if you need to!
#zero draft#zero drafting#writeblr#writing tips#answered#kaatiba#i hope this makes sense and helps!!#am i psyching myself out about having to write real words now? yes#but i'm very excited about my wip again though#so that's helpful too
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Idk if you’re taking requests but I have one and I’ve loved you’re writing for Ominis so let’s go!!
⚠️spoilers ahead just in case⚠️
I was wondering if you’d be willing to write an Ominis x fem!hufflepuff! Reader where they’ve liked each other but it all comes out before the Scriptorium mission. Like he tells the story on why he won’t use crucio and everything but when Sebastian uses the curse on her Ominis is the one to rush to her and help her. I just want fluff and love for this boy he needs more of it!!
I trust you to write this amazingly and please make whatever changes you’d like I’d just want this boy to be loved ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Hold me close
Ominis Gaunt x gn!reader
Tags: angst | hurt/comfort | torture curse
1k words
A/n: Thank you for the request! This is a short little one shot rewrite of the In the Shadow of the Study quest so ⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️. Hope you like!
Quite how you ended up in Salazar Slytherin's secret Scriptorium with a couple of Slytherin boys was a mystery in itself, almost as baffling as the one presented directly in front of you. You'd left the cosy Hufflepuff common room only an hour ago, and now here you were, staring at a huge, ornate door decorated with serpents. Salazar Slytherin really liked snakes.
"That must be the voice I hear," Ominis says beside you. " I don't believe I'm about to do this."
Your heart flutters in your chest as you watch him approach the door and take a deep breath before speaking, if it could be called that—a quiet hiss escapes his lips. You jump back in astonishment as the mechanism on the door jumps to life, the eerie green glow of the serpents' eyes illuminating the dim corridor.
"Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed," you say, marvelling at him.
"Between the two of you, I'm starting to feel left out," Sebastian says from behind you.
"Between the two of us?" Ominis asks. If it weren't so dark, you'd swear he'd be blushing.
"I…never mind," Sebastian mutters.
You know what your friend means, but you squirm uncomfortably anyway. It's true, you both seem to have rare abilities that others might envy. You make quite the pair, though Sebastian was none the wiser of your mutual affection.
It isn't long before you encounter yet another locked door in this infernal maze. The floor is wet, the room smells dusky and damp, and you quickly notice the reason why. Following the scurrying of a rat in the corner, your illuminated wand shines on a skeleton in the corner of the room. You fight to hold back the bile rising in your throat. A scrap of paper draws your eye, slightly nibbled but still more or less intact, laying next to the long-decayed corpse. You reach down and pick it up with two fingers, your face twisting in disgust as you try to read the scrawled words.
"Ominis...your aunt Noctua…she mentions being trapped here. Blocked by an unforgivable curse," you say shakily.
Your gut twists with guilt, knowing that having agreed to talk to Ominis for Sebastian had doomed you all. You had wanted to help your friend, but you should never have agreed to it, and the pain on Ominis' face is more than you can bear.
"Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do…," Sebastian started.
"Yes, it is! I thought you knew me better!" Ominis shouted back.
Your immediate reaction is to go to him. You wish you could hold him, comfort him, instead you move slowly to his side, your hand reaching for his but falling short under Sebastian's watchful eye.
"Ominis," you whisper.
"I won't do it," Ominis says, shaking his head and beginning to pace nervously. "You shouldn't either."
"I understand, but it's our only way out of here. I can take it," you say, trying to keep the quavering from your voice. You muster the courage to reach out and grip his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Are you going to use the curse on Sebastian?" he asks in a small voice.
"I don't think I can."
Ominis grimaces as you leave his side, walking over to Sebastian by the door, steeling yourself for what's to come. You trust your friend not to prolong it longer than necessary. Balling up your fists, you nod and Sebastian readies himself, raising his wand and hesitating only for a second before expelling the dreaded incantation.
"Crucio."
A crackle of electricity ripples through your body and you see only a red haze before forcing your eyes shut and falling to the floor, gasping for breath. Your nerves are on fire, your very flesh feels as if it's burning as you try to scream but nothing comes out.
"Please, please," a faint voice enters your ears as the pain subsides and you open your eyes, staring at the floor as your vision readjusts to the assault on your retinas, the stones beneath you swimming back into focus. You take a deep breath and fill your lungs, desperately reaching out in front of you, clutching the first thing you feel.
You look up and Ominis is kneeling in front of you, holding your arm and feeling his way to find where you are. You start breathing shakily, trying desperately to catch your breath and feel wet, hot tears pooling in your eyes. Ominis' hands are shaking as they glide up your arms, over your shoulders and brushing your neck, finding your face. He cups your face in his hands, pausing as the tears roll over his fingers, then wipes them away gently. His face is contorted in pain as he asks, "Are you okay? Please, be okay."
"I'm okay," you manage to stutter.
Sebastian seems to be in shock, standing dumbly by the now open door, watching the interaction between his friends.
"I'm so sorry," he groans, leaning back against the wall.
"It's fine, you did what you had to do," you say weakly, attempting to get up off of the floor.
Ominis clutches your arms again, firmly, standing with you and steadying you as you wobble on your aching legs and stumble into him. He doesn't loosen his grip, only pulls you closer, looping an arm around your back and holding your weight.
"I've got you," the soft voice says in your ear.
You rest your head against his shoulder, his hand finding its way to the nape of your neck and gently stroking your hair.
"I…there's a room here…," Sebastian says feebly before retreating behind the door.
Ominis doesn't let you go, the shaking in his hands subsided, now replaced with a tender and assuredly comforting touch. You look up at him, his hands still tangled in your hair, and watch his closely knitted brows relax.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he says.
"I'd do it again, for you."
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It’s Not All In Your Head (Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski)
I KNOW THIS IS KIND OF A DYING FANDOM SO IF YOU LIKE THIS PLEASE REBLOG/SHARE/LIKE!! IM CURRENTLY REWATCHING SO IM FEELING QUITE INSPIRED BY THESE CHARACTERS!
this was formerly posted on my blog as “Unexpected” with a 1.5k word count, but I wrote it over two years ago and wanted to rewrite some things and add some more plot. So this really is a different story now, deserving of a new title and song that fits the vibe
pairing: female reader (she/her) x Stiles Stilinski
summary: When you find yourself mixed up in the mysterious supernatural world of Beacon Hills, a town you’ve grown up in your whole life, you find an unlikely ally in the form of Stiles Stilinski. The boy you’ve despised and admired for the last half of your life.
notes/warnings: small mentions of familial death, mention of dead body
word count: 3.3k
Getting out of bed this morning was rough.
Head rushing and pounding with the adrenaline from the night before.
It couldn’t be, right?
Everything you experienced last night wasn’t real, or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.
You couldn’t explain how you ended up in the woods in the middle of the night.
Hearing voices in your head, it was almost as if you had been summoned there.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
This was the second time in your life that you couldn’t push the voices away.
It had only happened once before this, right before your grandmother passed.
She had been in hospice for the last few months and hadn’t been doing well.
You begged your mom to let you skip school that day to visit her, but she insisted that the last time she had spoken to the nurse, everything was fine.
You got called out of class early that day, your mother rushing you over to the nursing home so that your grandmother would be surrounded by family in her last moments.
Neither of you had brought up how you somehow knew you needed to be there, but the coincidence never left your mind.
Tonight felt like that day from a few months ago.
As you sat at your desk doing homework you could hear distant muffled voices, the words weren’t clear, but they started getting louder.
You huffed, pushing your chair back as you got up.
Walking down the hallway you expected to turn the corner and see your younger brother blasting the tv at the highest volume, but you were met with the deafening silence of the dark and empty living room.
The voices continued as you wandered around the house, growing louder as you followed them outside into the back yard.
You looked back at your house before sneaking out the side gate.
The streets were empty as you walked down the sidewalk, making left and right turns when they felt right.
It wasn’t until you reached the entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve that you snapped back to reality and truly took in your surroundings.
You barely enjoyed running through here when it was cross country season, you certainly wouldn’t have chosen to come here in the middle of the night.
Walking further into the woods, you reached a small clearing.
A large wood trunk sat in the middle of the clearing, a sizeable figure laying on top of it.
As you got closer you began to make out shapes; an arm, a leg, it was a body.
You stopped a few feet short of the stump, your eyes widening in horror as they focused in on the lifeless eyes of the body before you.
It was a dead body.
You couldn’t do anything but scream at the top of your lungs.
The murmured voices quickly stopped and were soon replaced by a different set of voices.
They grew louder as did the footsteps as they approached.
“Y/N!” Scott and Lydia exclaimed at the same time.
You turned around quickly, fear painted on your features as you attempted to speak.
“I—I don’t…”
Lydia stepped forward, wrapping her arm around your shoulder as she walked you away from the body.
“Y/L/N?” you heard another voice arise.
It was the first time you really noticed that he was there.
“Stilinski,” you greeted back.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“You know the usual, finding dead bodies in the woods, you?”
Hearing his scoff, you smirked to yourself, it was so easy to rile him up.
It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to be making jokes, but with Stiles the sarcasm and witty comebacks were hard to swallow back.
It was almost refreshing to be joking with him in that moment.
Whispering among themselves, you stood quietly looking around, of course your attention still drawn to the body splayed on the trunk a few feet behind them.
Their whispering soon came to an end and Lydia and Stiles stepped forward.
Taking your arm again, Lydia turned you around so that you were now walking in the direction that you came from.
“Y/N, did you walk here?” Lydia asked concernedly.
“Yeah, I—” you were about to explain how you felt drawn here.
“…yeah” you answered quietly.
She turned her head to give Scott and Stiles a worried look.
You know what this might have looked like to your classmates.
Standing over a dead body in the middle of the woods, late at night.
“C’mon, Stiles will take us home. It’s probably not the safest idea to be out now.”
“What about Scott?” you asked unsurely.
“Believe me, Scott knows how to handle his own,” Stiles replied while slightly increasing his speed so that he was now walking in front of you and Lydia.
You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but you chose not to ask too many questions.
As you crawled into the back of Stiles’s Jeep you didn’t know what to think.
You were terrified about the discovery you made in the woods and the unexplainable feeling that you had that could have possibly led you there.
Terrified at the thought of your classmates, also walking around the woods at the same time and seemingly not as concerned about a body as you were.
The low hum of the radio filled the awkward silence as they drove you home, only speaking up when you had to direct Stiles.
As he pulled up in front of your driveway, you quickly thanked them and got out, trying your best to get to the front door.
Stiles was quick to shut off the car and follow you.
“Y/LN!” he called.
You brushed it off as if you had not heard him, quickening your steps as you got closer.
“Y/N!” he called again.
You rounded on your feet quickly, Stiles stopping abruptly as he almost ran into you.
“What?” you exhaled tiredly, your eyes watering slightly as they met with his.
“What could you possibly say right now?” you asked.
“I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he spoke up.
“No Stiles, I am not okay. None of this is okay.”
He nodded understandingly.
He reached up slightly, so that his hand was barely hovering above your elbow.
You swore you could feel the heat radiating from his body being so close.
As you glanced down, he quickly dropped his hand back down to his side.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he stated matter of factly.
You looked back up to give him a small nod.
He waited for you to go inside and only turned to leave when he heard the lock click.
You did not see it, but Lydia gave him a pointed look as he walked back to the car.
“Shut up,” he said as he started the jeep.
“I didn’t say anything,” Lydia smiled back.
That night you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Every time you closed your eyes you saw the lifeless eyes of the body staring back at you.
Before you knew it, sleep had consumed your whole body and your thoughts and fears of the night slowly melted away.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
You quickly awoke to the sound of your alarm clock blaring.
Immediately hitting snooze, you debated skipping school all together.
It’s not like you didn’t like school, it was quite the opposite.
You were doing extremely well in all your classes, involved in every club and team you thought would make your college application stand out, and you had a great group of supportive friends.
Thinking about the possible run in with Scott or Lydia and the inevitable run in with Stiles, since you shared so many classes, was more than your anxiety allowed you to handle.
Grabbing your bag, you headed to the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and your keys from the counter as you said goodbye to your mom.
Walking to the driver’s door you were startled when a car horn honking caught your attention.
Looking up you were shocked to see Stiles and his infamous jeep, windows down as he blocked your driveway.
“Stilinski, get the hell out of the way. You’re going to make me late for school.”
“Yup, that’s the plan. Get in Y/L/N,” he replied.
Rolling your eyes, you walked over to his car. He nodded at you to get in.
You stood, looking unamused.
He huffed before getting out the driver’s side and walking around the front of the car.
He brushed past you, opening the passenger door, his eyes silently pleading with you to get in.
“Okay, okay!” you exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat.
The radio was low, and you quietly hummed along as you passed the houses on your street.
After a few wrong turns you had finally turned to Stiles,
“Where are we going?” you asked.
“I thought you were taking me to school,” you huffed, annoyance clear in your voice.
“I never said that, I said I was going to make you late,” Stiles replied, an attitude in his voice similar to yours.
Rolling your eyes, you turned in your seat, resuming the activity of watching the world outside the car window quickly pass.
After about another 10 minutes you had pulled into a driveway of a cute looking house.
“Is this your house?” you asked confused.
“Yeah, now c’mon,” he answered, quickly turning off the car and getting out.
You followed him into the house and to his room.
Your eyes scanned his room, blue walls littered with posters and clothes thrown on the floor with little regard.
Typical, you thought to yourself.
If you looked under the bed you were sure you would probably find playboy magazines covered in some sort of body fluid.
You shivered at the thought.
What was strange was the wall by his desk.
Red yarn creating a maze as it led from one photo to another. Confusing words and maps printed alongside.
You watched as Stiles threw his backpack onto the chair.
“Don’t worry my dad isn’t home, so no one will interrupt us.”
You gave him a surprised and teasing look, insinuating that his words were some sort of innuendo, before he quickly spoke again.
“Jesus Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.”
You chuckled softly, before letting your eyes roam around some more.
“I just meant, there’s some things I need to ask you about, you know, about last night?” he continued.
Stiles noticed you visibly harden at the mention of last night.
He knew why Scott and them were there.
But you?
That was a question still left unanswered.
Taking a seat on his bed, you sighed.
“What were you doing in the woods Y/N?” he asked more directly.
“I honestly don’t know,” you said unconvincingly.
“I mean, I could be asking you the same thing. Your dad’s the Sheriff, right? I wonder what he would have to say about you and your friends hanging around dead bodies in the woods.”
This caught Stiles’s attention.
“Ok, let’s not get crazy. And don’t forget, we found you over the dead body,” he reminded you.
“And what exactly were the three of you doing out there? Taking a late-night stroll in the moonlight,” you remarked accusingly.
“Listen Y/N. This is serious, there’s a lot going on in Beacon Hills. A lot that I can’t really explain right now. So please, let’s try and be honest with one another.”
“I don’t know how to be honest without sounding absolutely crazy,” you confessed.
“I promise you, nothing that you say to me right now will sound crazy. Just try me,” he smiled reassuringly.
He kneeled in front of you, now at eye level as you slowly nodded.
“Well, like you said, there’s a lot that can’t be explained, and I can’t really explain what happened. I was at home all night when I started hearing these voices—I.”
Stiles grabbed your hand as you stuttered, a silent comfort urging you to continue.
“It was like they were calling me. I mean I’ve heard voices before, they’re always different. Most of the time I can convince myself that I’m just imagining things, but this time was different. This time they wouldn’t stop. So, I just walked and walked, and next thing I knew I was in the woods and the voices had stopped. And that’s when I ran into you guys,” you said, finishing your account of events.
Stiles seemed less surprised and confused than you had thought he would.
“Y/N, do you know what this means!” he said, realization settling in his eyes as he started piecing things together.
You got up quickly, dropping his hand as you began pacing his room, the fear and confusion of the night before flooding back.
“No, Stiles, not really. I have no idea what any of this means,” you exclaimed, the fear evident in your voice.
His eyes softened as he took in your state.
“Okay, hey! It’s ok. We’re going to figure this out. I’m going to help you figure this out.”
“Figure out what? Stiles, this really isn’t making sense,” you exclaimed as you stopped pacing to face him.
“You said you’ve heard these voices before, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, once…”
“When?”
“What?” you looked at him confusedly.
“When did you hear these voices?” he pressed.
“Right before my grandmother passed,” you confessed smally.
“This is going to sound insane,” Stiles started.
“More insane than a girl who hears voices?” you interrupted.
“I think I know what’s going on.”
He got up from the bed, motioning for you to follow him to the desk, rifling through papers and a big leather-bound book, before stopping on a page.
Across the top you read Banshee.
You had read about Banshees before when you took a dual enrollment literature and folklore class.
You looked at Stiles with an angry and pointed look.
“Stilinski what the fuck is this?”
He was taken aback by your shift in demeanor.
“Is this funny to you?”
“What? No, Y/N, just list—"
“No, this is just too much. I thought you really cared about how I was feeling and if this is just you and your friend’s idea of a twisted joke, I don’t want any part of this.”
“Y/N I CAN EXPLAIN!” he continued.
You grabbed your stuff and ran out of the room, letting your long strides carry you further and further away from Stiles’s house.
As you walked through the school parking lot, you turned to find that stupid blue jeep following behind you.
Pulling up next to you, Stiles rolled his window down.
“Y/N!”
You stopped abruptly, causing him to slam on the brakes.
“Stiles, leave me alone.”
“Please Y/N, if you won’t talk to me just, please talk to Lydia or Scott. They’ll explain everything.”
You shook your head at him before walking away.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You had gone almost the rest of the day, successfully avoiding Stiles and his friends.
There was a close call at lunch when you saw Scott and Stiles standing on opposite sides of you a few feet away. Your friend was a saving grace as she appeared next to you, demanding to know why you were so late as she yanked you away to a table across the cafeteria.
However, as you sat in AP Government, your luck was wearing thin when Stiles chose to sit right next to you.
You glanced over to him, an annoyed look covering your face. To which he gave a cocky smirk and wave.
You angled yourself slightly so that you were facing away from him while still being able to sit forward in your desk.
As your teacher began the lesson you did your best to ignore Stiles’ constant attempts to get your attention.
From excessively tapping his foot and pencil, nudging the edge of your desk with his shoe, and leaning over the aisle so that he was now in your personal space.
“Y/N, c’mon,” he pleaded quietly.
“I’m trying to learn about our constitutional right to contraceptives, shut up,” you angrily whispered back.
“Y/N—” he continued.
“STILES SHUT UP!” you exclaimed.
Your teacher fell silent as she looked up to see you and Stiles sheepishly sinking into your seats.
“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Stilinski, am I interrupting your social time?”
“No, Mrs. Thomson,” you answered embarrassedly.
“Right, well if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to teaching. The two of you can catch up in detention.”
You groaned, turning to look at Stiles who had a satisfying grin on his lips.
After a grueling 40 more minutes, class ended, and you were reminded of your unfair punishment as you watched your classmates pack up around you.
Mrs. Thomson wrote an assignment on the board, before packing her bag to leave.
As she walked out of the class, she gave the both of you a pointed look, a silent threat that you would be in more trouble if you did not actually stay to finish the assignment.
You were surprised to find that Stiles remained silent for the first couple minutes of detention.
He seemed preoccupied with whoever he was texting.
Unfortunately, the silence was short-lived when Lydia, quickly followed by Scott and Kira, walked in.
This wasn’t just any detention; this was an ambush.
“This cannot be happening right now,” you sighed, your hands rubbing your face as Stiles chuckled.
“Brought reinforcements this time,” he joked.
Your eyes quickly darted to his, shutting him up instantly.
“Y/N—” Lydia started.
“Look, I’m not sure how you got involved with these two idiots,” you motioned to Scott and Stiles before continuing.
“But I’m not sure what else to say about last night.”
“We understand that this is confusing,” Kira spoke up.
“I really don’t know what you guys keep referring to.”
“Y/N YOU’RE A BANSHEE,” Lydia spoke next.
Your eyes widened at her statement.
“ARE YOU ALL ON DRUGS?” you exclaimed.
“Like me…you’re a banshee like me,” she finished quietly.
They must be on drugs.
“The supernatural, it exists, we exist…” Scott spoke up, looking around the group as he finished.
“We?” you questioned; confusion clearly etched on your face.
“Banshee” Lydia raised her hand, answering with a sense of confidence as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You turned to Kira, her eyes turning a fiery orange as she answered, “Kitsune, it’s from Ja—”
“Japanese culture, I know,” you quickly finished for her. Your eyes softened as you shifted your focus to Scott.
“Werewolf,” Scott answered, his eyes glowing a bright red as he looked at you.
“Okay…so, what are you, a life-sucking vampire?” you asked, turning to Stiles with a mocking grin.
“I’m—I’m nothing,” Stiles replied.
“So, the body in the woods? They were killed by something supernatural?” you questioned.
They all nodded their heads.
“And I was called to it because, I’m a Banshee?” you tried clarifying.
“Pretty much,” Stiles replied smartly.
“And what are you guys, some sort of super squad?” you joked.
“We help people who can’t help themselves,” Scott answered earnestly.
A moment of silence passed over the group as they allowed you to process all the new information you had learned.
“Can I drive you home?” Stiles asked.
You looked around before nodding, a small grin on your face before you spoke up.
“I would hope so, you kind of kidnapped me this morning.”
He rolled his eyes before letting out a genuine laugh.
“C’mon loser,” he said, as he started getting out of his seat.
“What about detention? You are the reason we got it in the first place?”
“Me? You were the one screaming in the middle of class!”
“Because you were bothering me!”
Lydia, Kira, and Scott looked to one another, silently agreeing to leave the two of you to figure it out.
There was a lot you didn’t know about the supernatural world in Beacon Hills, but what you did know was that you now had a group of people committed to helping you figure it out.
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Now we've got all six of em, can I just say that CRIPES ALMIGHTY the titles for a starless clan suck major ass! Both separately AND as a group!!
I Do Not Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT DO YOU WANNA HEAR MY WIP RENAMES SO FAR
Remember: Don't get too attached yet, the only one I can say with certainty will show up somewhere is the title of Book 4.
ARC RENAME: A Starless Clan -> A Prayer Unanswered
The original name is really good but I'm getting a vibe that the theme of the rework is going to be... when love isn't enough.
It's about how some things can't get better. It's about how all the kindness in the world couldn't get Bramblestar to turn around as a leader. It's about how Heartstar might have had good intentions, but occupation never works out in the end. It's Nightheart's relationship to his family being salvageable, not because they don't all want to fix it, but because his life has worked out best with distance from them.
So, Prayers Unanswered is both about the religious part of how RiverClan doesn't have a leader and can't get in proper touch with StarClan, but it's also about every other wish that hasn't come true.
River -> Starcrossed
One of the VERY large changes I'm considering is actually massively reducing Nightheart's POV. I'm thinking of doing this, not because I dislike him, but because I think it might actually be a better story if the audience is guessing as to his intentions just as much as the other characters are. So, until he's ACTUALLY needed later, his chapters are short and sparse.
So Starcrossed would be about setting up the troubles of the Clans, especially the parts of the conflicts I want to highlight more in BB. It would be setting up the rule changes for "starcrossed lovers" (lmao) but also the brewing anger that the cats have towards code changes... and StarClan, if I do decide to keep the newest revelations and work them in better, in hindsight.
Sky -> Fracture
There's a phrase in my head that is so interesting to me that I need to do something with it. "Only frozen water can fracture."
I want to make the RiverClan situation worse than in-canon. First of all, there's going to be identifiable groups this time which begin to scramble for power. Instead of having the cats just... forget how to do the chores they've done their whole lives, the Clan is splitting up into factions.
This is why they won't be able to win against Heartstar later, when she decides to take drastic measures. They're not fighting like a Clan; they're fighting like a bunch of disorganized teams. There should also be a bunch of needless injuries, maybe even a border aggression that lead to a death, before Heartstar barges in.
I also want to make this a bigger part of the story, Erins willing. Too much time was spent on the Catnip Patrol, imo, we're going to have ANOTHER big trip and I don't want this one to eat up so much time. Rowankit is also still going to die; and maybe a couple of elders around the Lake too.
Shadow -> Snakes and Turnclaws
Berryheart's hate movement has been too tame, from canon books 1 - 4 as of the time of writing. It's ridiculous that they haven't even injured anyone in the Battle Cat series. I saved Antfur from the previous arc so that she can die here.
We've been seeing the Anti-Turnclaw movement rise from the first book, so now with Nightheart's boldness leading him to a place where he will be unsafe, we need to see his rusty butt in actual danger. I'm even thinking that, instead of Nightheart failing his task on purpose, Sunbeam makes him fail by stopping him from getting killed.
I need to know the ending of ASC first though, because I MIGHT be having Berryheart getting her exile here. Whatever kills Antfur is either deniable enough that she's able to squeak by while Sunbeam quietly leaves (refusing to accuse her mother of anything publicly) OR it's so obvious that Heartstar casts her out on the spot.
Meanwhile, we see the OTHER half of ShadowClan's conflict as RiverClan finally unites... against them, as their common enemy. Task failed successfully, Heartsy
Thunder -> The Source of the River
I'm still unspeakably proud of this outline. There's so much I want to do here. She's going to come back with a DND party and I'm hoping that all of them end up in RiverClan with her; INCLUDING Nightheart.
I want the fact that he accompanied Frostpaw to actually be the final straw for him. While he's away, Sunbeam is acclimating to ThunderClan and falling in love with her new home. There are parts she misses about ShadowClan, but as she's adopted by Sparkpelt, taken as a secondary apprentice by the deputy, smiled upon by Squirrelstar after she pressures Bramblestar to abdicate... this starts to feel like this is where she belongs. And that's too hard for Nightheart to ever come back to.
"You come to the source of the river, and are vexed that you do not find the water that is flowing downstream" dude.... man. That's what BB's about. Change. I also really want Nightheart to choose HIS OWN NAME by the end of this series-- so at some point in this book he should finally admit "Nightheart" wasn't his choice either.
(I'm thinking Deltastep. Because his journey with Frostpaw begins at the southern delta of my reworked map.)
And I haven't done them for Book 5 or Book 6 yet, especially since I might end up condensing them or chopping them up to put into the other books.
I do know I'm really love to play with the idea of a starless sky for one of the last books though, I may or may not keep Splashtail's lack of faith in StarClan (hate the Evil Atheist thing they keep doing), but the idea of a "Pitch-Black Star" absolute fucks as symbolism, ngl. Maybe something like "A Gap in the Stars" or "Constellation's Void" or "The Stolen Star"
Also also also I'm having Curlfeather come back as a Dark Forest Demon for at LEAST one scene.
I don't give a good goddamn if they don't go to the Dark Forest or not. ONE weird coincidence that could totally have been Just Good Luck but was actually Curlfeather. Let Her Drown Splashtail, she deserves it. Let her be a malevolent spirit who protects her baby. RiverClan can whine all it wants about Mothwing who ooo doesn't believe in God, Frostpaw's got a demon. Cry about it
Also I hope Frostpaw becomes leader because I'll make it go hard
#Mapleshade here like ''haha i will continue my curse on the appledusk bloodline''#And Curlfeather looms behind her like ''dont.''#BB!ASC#better bones au#ASC Spoilers
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Reimagining the Characters in Wish
(Part 4- The 7 teens)
Yup, you read that right, I’m rewriting AAAAALL these fellas, or rather, just giving more substance to them because as they were in the movie we barely got CHARACTERS, just a 7 dwarfs reference, heck, I doubt y’all remember their names.
If you’re new here, hi, I’m rewriting all the characters in Wish before I start sharing my rewrite, here’s part 1, part 2 and part 3.
Now you may wonder, why am I even keeping the concept of the 7 teens in my rewrite, when just scrapping them all together would make my life so much easier instead of writing lines of dialogue and character motives to all of them?
Well the answer is that I like to make myself suffer I think they actually have a lot of potential, and I really like their designs.
Sooo lets meet the gang.
Who are the 7 teens?
So in my rewrite, the 7 teens will be a little bit more than just Asha’s best friends. Because each one of them will be the sons and daughters of some members of the royal staff.
I’ll be specifying in this blog the following things about each one of them:
- Their personality.
- Who their parents are.
- How they met Asha.
- What purpose will they serve in the story.
So buckle up because this blog might get a lil bit long hahaha I regret this already.
Dahlia 🍪
- Dahlia is a 17 year old girl, she has mobility issues, so she has to use a crutch to walk.
- She’s very organized and proactive, always doing her best to get things done. She’s often the one who takes the lead when planning things for her friends such as surprise birthday parties or deciding where to hang out (or whatever teenagers did back then aside from dying from the plague).
- She has an habit of making lists with the step by step of everything she has planned, which her friends find pretty amusing. Her ideas always turn out to be a lot of fun, although she really needs to learn how to let go of this need of control and just let things play out naturally.
(She’s kinda like Twilight Sparkle… this will not be the last time I’ll mention a My Little Pony character in this blog)
- Sometimes when things don’t go according to plan or she gets anxious she starts stuttering and replacing words
(much like how Doc from Snow White did constantly, I’m shocked they didn’t reference that once in the movie, it’s such an awkward teenager thing to do)
“Asha! We shook— I mean LOOKED everywhere for you la-last night! Why would you fun- I MEAN RUN away from the hackle like that??”
“… I think you mean castle-“
“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT”
- But overall she’s a very kind and supportive friend to Asha, something they both have in common is that they enjoy working hard to achieve their goals, even though Dahlia still wants to give her wish for the king.
- I might’ve made her come off as a bit of a control freak but really she’s very easygoing and kind. Even when things don’t go according to plan she knows anything with her friends will be fun and work out in the end.
Even if what doesn’t go according to plan is a heist mission to infiltrate the castle?
She’s the daughter of the royal cooks
- Her mother is the royal baker and her father is the royal lead chef.
- They both work in the castle, and Dahlia sometimes goes with them to lend a hand when they’re short staffed or to learn the family business.
- Dahlia has witnessed first hand how the royal couple can be not so sweet when they’re away from the public eyes:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
King Magnifico: Diner yesterday was absolutely dreadful, what happened? Have I granted your wish to be the greatest chef in the land for nothing?
Dahlia’s father: m-my deepest apologies sire, you see, the queen took all the salt from our storage yesterday to make her potions so-
King Magnifico: Blaming my wife for your incompetence now, I see
Dahlia’s father: n-no! I’d neve-
King Magnifico: If you got no salt, find a work around, I’ll not be accepting any less than the finest meals from you, was I clear? Dismissed.
Dahlia: … Dad, that wasn’t your fault, you can’t let him talk to you like that.
Dahlia’s father: He’s the king, Dahlia, he’s always right. Besides, it’s thanks to him granting my wish that I know how to cook at all, the least I can do is not disappoint him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Because she got to see this behavior, it’s easier for her to believe when Asha tells her the king and queen’s true colors.
- She’s expected to follow her parent’s foot steps, and become a great cook, but all she really knows how to bake is cookies.
- She sees cooking a lot more as a past time than something she’ll be doing for the rest of her life, but she doesn’t want to let her parents down, she keeps trying to develop some interest in cooking, so she can wish to be a great cook once she turns 18
(Just wishing for it without having truly the interest in cooking wouldn’t work, because a wish has to be something that you really want and comes from the bottom of your heart)
She was the first one that met Asha
- Dahlia was helping her mom sell her baking goods to the neighborhood, so she went all by herself with a little cart carrying a bunch of sweets (like a Girl Scout)
- She knocked on Asha’s house and was greeted by lil 6 year old Asha with her grandpa, they bought some sweets, but as she was walking away Asha noticed she was having some trouble carrying the cart while walking with her crutch.
- Asha looked at her grandfather who gave her a reassuring nod.
- Asha offered to help Dahlia carry the cart.
- They talked while they walked door to door for a while, and after there were no more sweets in the cart they went to play together, and that’s how they became best friends.
She will be the leader
- I mentioned briefly in my blog about reimagining Asha that after her grandfather passed away she started living with Dahlia, so they’re basically sisters, and as such, Dahlia is very protective of Asha and becomes increasingly worried when Asha starts acting weird after her meeting with the king and queen, like she’s hiding something… and why the heck she has a friend that dresses up like a prince now?
- There will be a point in the middle of the story where Asha and Aster run away from the kingdom
(for reasons that I really should explain soon because the whole middle chunk of this rewrite is yet to be shared on Tumblr, I’m so sorry, I’ll get to writing it here soon)
- And Asha is seen now as a traitor, so, the 7 teens are conflicted.
- Should they believe their king, who says that Star guy is dangerous and Asha was plotting to betray them? Or should they trust their best friend?
- Dahlia is the first one who rises up saying they should go after Asha and help her, pack their stuff, tell their parents they’re going to make a sleepover or something, and just go to the middle of the woods.
- Everyone is a little unsure at first (specially Gabo and Simon) but after she gives them a little speech and reminds everyone of all the things Asha did for them, they’re convinced to go.
- Once they do find Asha and Aster, she helps a lot when they have to make a plan on how to defeat the royal couple.
Simon 💤
- Simon is a 21 year old young man, the oldest of the group, and since the day he gave way his wish he hasn’t been the same.
- Simon used to be very energetic and hard working, now, he’s in a constant feel of exhaustion that doesn’t go away, no matter how much he sleeps, he doesn’t feel motivated to do anything.
- His friends are very understanding tho and every time they hang out they always bring a pillow in case he needs a nap (which he always does need).
- They assume Simon has been so exhausted since he turned 18 because after that his father has been more demanding of him and his training, we’ll talk more about that later.
- Even tho he’s overwhelmed with sleepiness, Simon is still very protective and caring with his friends, he always tries his best to stay awake when they’re having fun together, he doesn’t want to miss a moment with them.
- He was even more protective before he turned 18 of course, he was like the older brother of the group, but since now he’s way too sleepy to be the voice of reason, that role is now Asha’s, the second oldest.
He’s the son of the captain of the royal guard
- The training I mentioned before was sword fighting, horse walking, navigation, tactics and a bunch of other exhausting things.
- But for whaaaateveeer reason Simon has lost all interest in learning about them since the day he gave away his wish, gosh I wonder what that wish wa— It’s the same that it was in the movie.
- Simon wished to become the next captain of the royal guard, just like his dad, so he can make him proud and protect his friends.
(Omg Simon is Papyrus Undertale confirmed)
- Magnifico is waiting for Simon’s dad to pass away so he can grant Simon’s wish, can’t have 2 captains of the royal guard at the same time, now can he?
- The tragic irony of it all is that a wish that Simon made to make his family proud just made him become an embarrassment to his father, who now doesn’t even try to teach him anything, knowing his son is just gonna fall asleep during his lessons.
- Simon is very distressed by all this, deep down he knows that he might feel this way because, for whatever reason, the king hasn’t granted his wish yet
- Whenever he tries to explain that to his father tho, he just angrily cuts him off for even daring to question or blame the king for his own failures, saying he must always be loyal and thankful to the king… Always.
(His father is mean like that because he wished to be the king’s most trusted and loyal knight so he literally is incapable of questioning Magnifico, even if that means he hurts his son in the process)
- After getting these speeches from his father so many times Simon just accepted that the problem was him, and it definitely wasn’t the king’s fault
- However, Asha did suspect that Simon’s wish wasn’t granted, just like how her grandfather’s wish wasn’t either, she recognized how Simon shared a lot of behavior patterns with her grandfather.
“You know Simon… Maybe you should ask the king if your wish was granted at all, don’t you think? You haven't been acting like yourself for 3 years now”
“What? Oh no no no I… I shouldn’t bother him with something so silly, I mean, of course he granted my wish… And if he didn’t then he must have his reasons and I just gotta wait haha but it doesn’t matter either way, after all I’m totally fine… I’m fine…”
Simon is the only one in the group who has absolutely no criticism about the king.
He was the second one that met Asha
- Simon was 10 when he started training sword fighting on his backyard, he’d use some scare crows as his opponents, and he made some wood swords by himself.
- Asha and Dahlia were hanging out when they saw Simon training, Asha thought it seemed fun so she asked if she could play too.
- Simon really could use some more lively opponents so yeah, why not?
- They played sword fighting the whole afternoon while Dahlia cheered for Asha and joined in the fun too.
- Since then they were very close friends and Simon taught Asha how to properly sword fight during their preteen years… they haven’t done that in a while now.
He’ll be the traitor
- Yup, oh sweet sleepy lil Simon betrays them in my version too, but don’t worry, it’s not just because he wants to get his wish granted like it was in the movie
(because that was a jerk move that made Simon feel very unlikable, like I get it he’s constantly exhausted and depressed and wants it to go away but bruh couldn’t even look guilty when doing it)
- So, like I mentioned, they all go after Asha and Aster in the forest. Simon at first is very resistant and the others even say it’s okay if wants to stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dahlia: It’s okay Simon, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.
Gabo: OH SURE! I’m a jerk for calling this a suicide mission, but the strongest and oldest of the group not wanting to go is completely understandable, I see how it is.
Simon: …hmm
Dahlia: Simon’s case is different Gabo, if his dad realizes he’s missing then we might have even more guards on our tail.
Safi: Besides, Simon might be a liability.
Simon:… what’s that supposed to mean?
Safi: Ah… shoot- eh you know like… it’s getting pretty late and you didn’t get a nap this afternoon so—
Gabo: He means we can’t carry you through the woods like a sleeping beauty waiting for a kiss, Simon.
Simon:…
Hal: Wow Gabo, very classy (sarcastic)
Gabo: Hey, just saying what we’re all thinking-
Simon: I’m going.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Simon decides he has to go because someone has to be there to protect his friends, not just from the woods, but most importantly from that star guy the king warned everyone about
- May seem contradictory that Simon believes both in the king and Asha, but truth is that he’s holding up hope that this is all some big misunderstanding and Asha just misunderstood something the king said, or she’s being brainwashed by that star, or anything else.
- He just can’t accept that the king is truly evil.
- So, when they’re packing up their things to go, Simon grabs a little something from his father’s room.
- A magic mirror, used only by the king’s most trusted knights, that gives direct contact to the king's study.
- He planed to just use it in case that they needed help if they found out the star was really harming Asha.
- However, once they did find Asha and Aster, it became undeniably clear that the star wasn’t harmful at all, which left Simon very confused.
“Maybe the book the king read about wishing stars was wrong, I should just explain to him that he made a mistake!”
(Oh poor naive boy)
- After planning how they’d defeat the king and save the wishes, Simon just lied saying he was gonna take a nap behind a tree, and thus, he entered in contact with the king and queen
- Magnifico at first dismisses Simon like he’s just messing with his father’s stuff until Simon mentions he knows where Asha and the star are, that peaks his interest, but he and Amaya disguise their enthusiasm perfectly by pretending to be worried for his safety.
“Oh my, are you alright? Has it done anything to you? Where are you? We can send help immediately”
- He says they’re fine, and tries to explain that maybe the king was wrong about star, and there has been some misunderstanding that lead to Asha thinking they were bad people, if they just talked things out everything would go back to normal.
- Like I mentioned in part 2, one of Magnifico’s abilities is hypnosis through eye contact, so he’s able to make Simon see things his way.
- He manipulates Simon into thinking that the star is tricking all of them to get to the wishes, and the only way for Simon to save them is doing EXACTLY what Magnifico says.
- He asks Simon to tell him what their plans are, so he can stop them from… doing anything they might regret.
- Simon, even under the influence of Magnifico’s power, is still conflicted and asks if his friends will be in trouble after this is all over.
“Trouble? Oh heaves no, dear boy, I wouldn’t dream on letting any harm come to them, trust me, your friends will be perfectly safe… If you do as I say.”
“… “if”?…”
“Enough chit chat, now, what are they plotting exactly? Don’t leave any details”
- Of course, Magnifico also offers to grant Simon's wish if everything goes according to plan, Simon is fully convinced.
- Simon agrees to lock his friends in a room during their invasion to the castle, the king convinced him that's the best way to keep them “safe” (Asha will be locked in a different room tho, for… reasons)
- But once he does lock them up, he hears his friends screaming and arguing with him through the door, eventually he has a change of heart and lets them go, so they can stop the king and queen together.
- Simon first betrayed his friends, but then he betrayed the king, and as he’ll find out in a very painful way… Magnifico really doesn’t like being betrayed.
(See what I did there? That’s a line Magnifico says in the Wish movie hehe… okay moving on)
Gabo 😡
- Gabo is a 17 year old teen, he’s also a little person.
- He’s a menace to society the brutally honest of the group, always with a sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue, sometimes they’re funny, sometimes they’re way too harsh, but he often apologizes if he goes too far, he doesn’t mean to hurt people, being blunt is just how he expresses himself.
- You may wonder why his friends even hang out with him if he’s so… grumpy all the time, well, his friends understand that he has a lot of pent-up anger inside because of personal stuff, so they try to help him through it.
- He also has a more soft side to him, he can be very wise for his age when his friends need some advice, and he’s always loyal, even when they disagree, he’d go anywhere they go.
- He’s specially loyal and supportive to Asha and most of the time refrains from throwing shade at her, actually he’s mostly just blunt when talking to the guys, he’s a lot more respectful to the girls.
(Ironic considering Grumpy hated Snow White at first just because she was a girl lmao)
He’s the son of a soldier
- His father is just a random soldier, nothing special really.
- However, once when Gabo was a kid, he was visiting the castle with his father and he wanted to explore, so he sneakily grabbed his father’s keys to the dungeons and went to see how was it like, ya know, boys will be boys.
- He got in, and at first there wasn’t nothing out of the ordinary, just your average scary dark and gloomy dungeon… except that by the end of a hall, full of empty jail cells, there was a door.
- And he could hear someone screaming from behind that door, like they were pleading, and he saw light coming from the key hole… It looked like the king’s magic, except it was green instead of blue.
- He tried to use the keys to open it, but none of them worked.
“Ugh why don’t any of these keys work??”
“Because this area is forbidden, little one”
- He turned around quickly to see who was behind him, and there she was, the queen was smiling down at him, a sweet and tender smile, like she wasn’t hearing the sounds of desperate cries coming from behind the door.
“I- sorry your majesty but umm… it sounds like someone is in trouble in there, shouldn't we help?”
- Then he heard the distinct sound of something made of glass breaking, and suddenly… silence, no more crying, no more screaming, and no more light coming from the door.
“I don’t hear anything my sapling, poor thing, you must be imagining things. Now, why don’t you just hurry along back to your father? He’s looking for you… And remember, this is our little secret~”
- And Gabo never told this to anyone, he knows no one would believe him.
(If you’re wondering what was going on behind that door… let’s just say there’s STILL more evil stuff Magnifico does that I couldn’t fit in my blog about the villains, what’s that you ask? *maniacal laugh* I’ll let you guess)
- Gabo always had the feeling that there was something WRONG with Rosas, but he couldn't quite pin point what, and that experience in the dungeon made him start questioning if the smiles he saw plastered on the king and queen's faces everyday were real or fake.
- This feeling that there was something wrong but there was nothing he could do about it made him, for a lack of a better word, grumpy a lot of the time.
- Needles to say, when Asha explained that the king and queen were actually evil, Gabo believed in a heartbeat.
- Because he’s a little person, Gabo is not expected to follow his father’s foot steps, and that makes him furious, because he wishes he could be seen as strong like he sees himself, but he’s constantly underestimated and treated like a kid.
He was the third one to met Asha
- During a kite festival in the kingdom, Dahlia, Simon and Asha were flying their kite when they noticed a boy sitting down on the grass, next to a broken kite.
- The boy looked very grumpy, so Asha tried offering him a hug, Gabo quickly pushed her away, saying he wanted to be left alone.
- Simon and Dahlia suggested they should just leave him be, but Asha insisted they should just give him some time to calm down.
- They sat a little bit far away from Gabo and started to just talk. Gabo appreciated that even though Asha didn’t even know him she was willing to wait for him to get some alone time and try to reach out for him later, most people just walked away when he had his anger episodes.
- After a few minutes, he got up and asked if he could play with them.
He will be the comedy relief, and the straightforward voice of reason
- Comedy relief is also an important role in a story, to alleviate the the tension and just be that one character that gives more contradictory remarks, otherwise everyone just agrees with each other and really where’s the fun in that?
- Also, after they figure out Simon betrayed them, he’d be the one who snaps Simon out of the idea that the king is a good person, throwing some facts to his face and like, not sugarcoating it, just straight up calling Simon out for being a dirty traitor, an awful friend and an absolute idiot, which may seem harsh but was exactly what Simon needed to hear to realize he was making a mistake.
- Like, Simon just opens the door apologizing in the verge of tears while Gabo keeps kicking his leg to let out his anger while everyone else is staring at Simon very disappointedly, comedy gold.
Bazeema 🥰
- Bazeema is 17 years old, who’s very shy.
-In this rewrite she is pretty much the same except for a little design and background change, you see, I found this piece of concept art
- Do you see it? Bazeema seems to be wearing a hijab, I like that, we don’t get enough Muslim representation, so there, Bazeema is Muslim and she wears a hijab now, her religion won’t affect anything in the narrative tho but I just wish they kept this detail in her design.
- Also I’m keeping that gimmick that sometimes she appears out of no where and scared the hell out of Gabo, because yeah I think it has comedic potential.
- She’s a very sweet and gentle girl, very soft spoken and likes to have some alone time once in a while “us introverts need sanctuary” as she said.
(She’s kinda like Fluttershy, see? I told you I’d mention more my little pony characters)
She’s the daughter of the royal gardeners
- Nothing much to it, Bazeema just saw the queen being rude to her mother once because the flowers were red instead of white. So again, when Asha sas the royal couple is evil she believes her just fine.
- Also she knows about a secret passage inside the palace’s garden, in the center of a hedge maze, that leads to inside the castle.
- Specifically to an underground storage room where her parents keep some gardening tools, but, if they can get in there, they might find a way to get inside the castle through the underground.
- She doesn’t mind following her parents footsteps at all, in fact, she loves the idea of just talking to flowers all day.
She’s the fourth one who Asha meets
- When Asha was 10, she and her friends went to watch a kids play telling the story of Rosas, Bazeema was playing the queen.
- But Bazeema got stage fright, and ran to the back of the stage, embarrassed that she forgot her lines
- Asha followed the sound of her crying and reassured her that it was alright and she could take as long as she needed to feel ready, and complemented that she looked beautiful in her Queen’s dress.
- Bazeema really appreciated that, and she went back on stage, although, she tried keeping her eyes closed to not see the crowd.
She’ll give important info on how to get inside the castle
- Like I mentioned before, Bazeema has info on how to get inside the castle through the garden, so she’ll just assist on that part of their plan.
- Also comedic relief, with her gimmick of disappearing then showing up out of nowhere.
Dario 💎
- Dario is 17 years old, and in this rewrite, he’s mute, not deaf tho, just mute, so he communicates through sign language. That’s to reference how Dopey, the dwarf he pays homage to, was also mute.
- I wouldn’t say Dario is dumb in my rewrite, he’s just really easily distracted, sometimes when his friends are talking he’ll just doze off and look at some flowers he finds along the way or collect rocks, and they don’t really mind.
- Dario is very emotionally intelligent tho, and among all the 7 teens, he’s one of the quickest to believe that Asha is innocent (Right after Dahlia)
He’s the son of the royal announcers
- Ya know those people with the big trumpets that give announcements to the kingdom? Yeah that’s what his parents do.
- Due to his disability Dario can’t really become an announcer, at least not a verbal one, he doesn’t really mind tho.
He’s the fifth one that Asha meets
- Asha was 11 when she and her friends met Dario, he was new in their class because he and his parents just moved to Rosas.
- Since he was mute, he had a really hard time making friends, so, Asha and her friends went to the library and found a book teaching about sign language
(I’m not gonna pretend you can actually learn ALL about sign language with just a book, I should know, I had ASL class in college, with a deaf teacher, and even then I don’t know even half of what there is to know, but this is a fantasy, so let’s pretend these kids learned the whole language, because it’s wholesome)
- So they make this effort to communicate with him and that makes Dario really happy, and he quickly joins the group.
He’ll be the silent comedic relief and also help creating a distraction for the king
- Most scenes when everyone is talking and focusing on more serious things, Dario is easily distracted and can be on the background doing the most random things, it’s not that he doesn’t care tho, he’s listening, and sometimes he comes up with creative ideas of his own.
- Also, as the son of the royal announcers, he goes tell them he has seen the star on the north side of the forest, his parents obviously believe him, and announce to the guards and the king, thus they can get inside while Aster distracts Magnifico.
Safi 🤧
- Safi is the youngest in the group, he’s 16 years old, and he has a tendency to sometimes not thinking before he speaks, so he kinda blurts out things that might come off as indelicate, but he never means to be rude. Also he’s allergic to EVERYTHING under the sun, so, of course, he sneezes a lot.
- I gave him this characteristic of blurting out things that he’s not supposed to say because it kinda reminds me of a sneeze, uncontrollable and sometimes inconvenient, but this way it gives him more character.
- Also if it was only Gabo saying inconvenient stuff and everyone else were saints this would be no realistic group of teenagers, teens are relentless when it comes to saying dumb stuff with each other y’all, they just don’t care.
- Safi is also a germophobic, always avoiding situations that might get him sick, like flowers, animals, dust, humidity, flour, the rain-
- And even though he’s terrified of everything that might give him a sneezing fit, his friends are always there to help him get through it.
He’s the son of two members of the cleaning staff
- So, as you can imagine, Safi really doesn’t want to follow his parents career path, with a job that is all about cleaning dust.
- One day, he was asked to help them clean the castle so he could at least try to learn something.
- While he was helping, the king showed up and started complaining with his parents that his study wasn’t clean enough
- While he was busy talking with them, he left something very important lying around.
- Safi saw the king’s magic staff leaning on the wall.
- Safi wanted to get a closer look, so while the king was distracted he approached the staff, but then, he felt it, a sneeze was coming up.
- He tried to hold it in but it was too late, Safi sneeze was so strong the staff got out of balance, and when it was about to hit the ground Magnifico managed to grab it just in time.
- Safi looked relieved and even chuckled to himself thinking the king would do the same. But the expression the king had was something he never seen from him before… Safi saw pure rage.
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU ALMOST DID? YOU WRETCHED BRAT! YOU COULD’VE ENDED ALL THE MAGIC IN ROSAS! I COULD’VE BEEN RUINED”
- Safi was pressed against a wall apologizing frantically and so were his parents.
- The king took a few deep breaths, and as if nothing happened his expression went back to his usual charismatic smile
“Maybe cleaning duty just isn’t your calling, lad. You’re dismissed from assisting for today, or any other day for that matter.”
- So Safi is not allowed inside the castle anymore.
He was the sixth that Asha met
- Safi was terrified during the festivals celebrating the foundation of Rosas, because the kingdom was decorated completely with, well, roses.
- There were roses everywhere, and he couldn’t stop sneezing with all the pollen in the air.
- Asha and her friends noticed him distressed, and decided to help him by taking Safi away from the kingdom.
- Safi was sad he couldn’t join in the party, but Asha and her friends said they could bring the party to him, so they danced and played instruments all day long.
This boy whose only personality trait was SNEEZING is literally the one who provides the info they need to defeat the villains, no, I’m not joking
- Like I mentioned before, Safi had a interaction with the king where he heard the king say “You could’ve ended all magic in Rosas” but he never understood what Magnifico meant by that.
- It’s not like all the king’s magic is stored in that one staff right?… but what if it is.
- When they’re coming up with a plan to defeat the king, Safi brings up this information, and there you have it, now they know what’s his weakness.
Hal 😄
- Hal is 17 year old, and judging by her earrings that resemble the “Jaaro dibbei” earrings from the Fulani tribe, so with that in mind, in this rewrite she came from Africa but moved to Rosas with her family as a kid.
- Hal is a very extroverted and joyful person, it’s rare to not see her smile, unless the situation really gets serious.
- Shes contagiously optimistic.
- Is often practicing her jokes with her friends, or just throwing some quick witted quips to lighten the mood.
(She’s a lot like Pinkie Pie… All the girls are My Little Pony references)
She’s the daughter of the royal entertainers
- Hal used to practice a lot of juggling and try acrobatics when she was little, but she quickly realized that kind of act wasn’t her calling
- She much prefers telling jokes and funny stories to the king and queen wherever her parents bring her with them to perform
- Hal noticed how the laughs and smiles the king and queen made during her acts always felt kinda forced, like they didn’t mean it.
- However the king would often burst with laughter whenever a performance from her parents went wrong, that always rubbed her the wrong way.
She was the last to met Asha
- When Asha was 13, she and her friends saw Hal practicing juggling near the forest, and she was really struggling with it.
- She told them she was really nervous because she had to be ready to perform for the royal couple in a few days.
- Asha suggested she should try a different kind of act, so she and her friends helped Hal come up with stories to narrate to the king.
- Hal discovered a new passion for story telling, and that became her new act.
She's the one who encourages Aster to confess his feelings
- Our Star Boy wasn’t actually that confident with confessing how he really felt about Asha, after all Aster knew that after granting her wish they would never see each other again, so what was the point in confessing?
- Hal encourages him with her optimism and explains that if he doesn’t tell her he’ll just regret it forever.
- That leads to the “At All Cost” scene
- So thank Hal for playing cupid
- Oh and Bazeema will help encourage Aster too
Final Thoughts
Welp this was a doozy one, but I’m pretty satisfied with how they turned out, everyone now feels like they got something to do and some actual backstories.
The way I’m planning to actually introduce in the story how they all met Asha is through a musical flashback that we see Asha going from a little kid to a teenager, think of it like the UP intro or “Do You Want To Build a Snowman”.
Like the movie would have in the beginning Asha’s grandpa reading to her the story of Rosas and we get a sweet scene of them interacting, then it cuts to this musical sequence (probably with no lyrics like in UP) where we see how Asha met each one of her friends, and also show how as time went on her grandfather grew more and more senile and dependent on her.
The sequence would end with Asha’s grandfather’s passing, and her friends being there to support her. Just like that in a flashback sequence with no dialogue we understand who are Asha’s friends, who was her grandfather, how Asha cares about all of them dearly, and with all that established the story begins.
Like can you imagine that? Introducing why we should care about Asha’s friends by showing to us who they are instead of just telling us and throwing them in the story with no explanation? What a concept, I’m sure glad a certain multibillion company didn’t just waste them…
Anyway, I’ll start actually sharing the chapters of my rewrite here pretty soon, I’m already confident enough to do it!
I was gonna first share a blog about how I’d reimagine Valentino buuuuuut I think it’s gonna be a pretty short blog that I can write later, and I can tell some people really want me to just tell the story already, and I want to start doing it too so let’s gooo!
Thank you so much for reading!
#disney wish#wish 2023#wish#wish star#wish asha#wish disney#wish movie#wish rewrite#king magnifico#wish reimagined#wish the 7 teens
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